Page 2 of Capturing Victory

The last thing she heard as she turned to rush through the crowd was Ivan’s deep voice, “Find out who she is and bring her to me.”

Not fucking likely.

Chapter Two

He was closing in on the hacker, but the tech genius was making him angry; very angry. And things that made Ivan angry tended to die slow, painful deaths. He hated playing games of cat and mouse. He preferred to lay his cards on the table, do his business out in the open with guns and steel. Which is why he dealt mainly in weaponry; he understood armaments. He didn’t like the world of sophisticated technology, though he certainly wasn’t a technophobe. He understood the use for computers, technology and the internet and was happy to exploit them any way he could, which was why he’d wanted the brilliant mind of XSource on his payroll. But he couldn’t stand the covert nature of internet crime; especially when it was keeping his prey from him.

Ivan would have been more at home in the wild west, hunting his victims on horseback, taking and conquering through sheer strength and force of will. But he’d been born in a different time, forced to channel his intelligence down a different path, hitting the international market, trading in arms deals across borders, building a private army of mercenaries and highly intelligent minds that worked beneath him to help him amass power and fortune through underworld profiteering.

When his phone rang, he nodded at his secretary, allowing her to pick up the call that would set his plan in motion; the capture of XSource. He turned away and watched the harbour, ignoring the initial back and forth as his various teams connected on the operation. He knew he was expending ridiculous amounts of money and resources on this capture. But the people closest to Ivan, the few that knew him best, knew that he was a bloodhound. He never gave up. Whether it was a business acquisition, an arms deal, an art thief or a hacker, he would hunt to the ends of the Earth, until he had what he wanted within his possession. Then he would play God, decide what to do with his new property; keep it or crush it.

When his people, scattered throughout the world, seamlessly co-ordinated themselves, he asked, “Where is he?” his voice cool, betraying none of the irritation he felt.

They’d just turned on their cat burglar, luring her into a clever trap in Mexico and handing her over to Roman Valdez, leader of the Valdez cartel in return for a location on the hacker that Katie Pullman used for her thieving jobs. They’d ensured she would definitely need the hacker’s services on this one to get into a specialised room at the hacienda where the painting she was supposed to steal was kept.

Silence greeted his demand. It took patience he didn’t have to keep quiet and not interrupt his people while they digitally knocked down the hacker’s attempts to cover his tracks. Ivan locked down the urge to pace his office and shout further demands. He was a man of action, but this was not his time to shine. This was the reason he spent copious amounts of money employing people all over the world. So he could have the things he needed… and wanted. And right now he wanted the hacker’s head on a platter. He needed to step aside and allow his people to track the hacker using the sophisticated resources he purchased for these jobs.

After a long moment of silence, he could hear Katie scuffling with Roman and screaming through the phone connection, “Source, get out now!”

This was quickly followed by one of his own people from the command center. “We have him pinned down. He’s in Portugal.”

“Where in Portugal?” Ivan asked coolly.

Several seconds passed and then the answer came through clearly. “Quarteira. A small coastal fishing hub.”

“Keane?” Ivan demanded over the connection. “Who’s closest?”

Keane replied immediately. “We have a man in Lisbon, he can be there within the hour.”

“Not good enough, he’ll go to ground by then,” Ivan snapped, pacing his office. He could feel the tension rolling off his secretary. “What else?”

Five more seconds passed then Keane said, “Know a guy in Cadiz, Spain. I’ve used his team for some jobs in that region. Can either chopper in or boat across the water, fifteen minutes if he goes now.” Keane hesitated and then added, “Mean fucker though. Can’t guarantee the package’ll get to you in one piece.”

“Do it,” Ivan said. “And Keane?”

“Yes, sir?”

“The package will arrive intact.”

Few words were exchanged while Keane engaged the services of his mercenary contact in Spain. The man was indeed rough around the edges, but quick to leap to action when a generous contract was immediately laid out. Ivan did not negotiate. He offered. His offer was accepted, both parties moved forward with their contractual obligations. It was really too bad the hacker failed to understand.

He closed his eyes and continued to practice patience, counting down fifteen minutes to the second as Salazar’s team took a military commissioned craft across the Gulf of Cadiz to Quarteira.

“They’ve landed,” Keane’s voice came across the line. “They’re in the vehicle and movin’ toward the signal. ETA, two minutes.”

Ivan allowed himself to feel the first stirrings of satisfaction since he began closing in on his prey. Soon the hacker would be within Ivan’s power, begging for mercy. He would quickly find out that Ivan had none.

“Sir,” Keane’s voice came through the speaker, cool and professional. “We have the hacker, we have XSource.”

Ivan allowed the corner of his lips to curl slightly in satisfaction. “Excellent.”

“She was preparin’ to run.”

She? A woman?

He turned to his screen, the smile leaving his face. “Show me.”

An incoming message popped up on Ivan’s screen. He tapped it, sitting down for a better view. He was stunned when her image filled the screen. He recognized her, of course. She was the lovely woman in the pink sari he’d attempted to converse with at the Athens ball two weeks before. Even in the overly bright light cast on her squinting features by the camera phone, he could tell it was her. Thick, dark brown hair swirled around her shoulders, forcibly hunched forward from the man standing behind her, holding her arms behind her back.

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