Page 22 of Assassin's Game
“But why would he need us working for him if he has them at his fingertips?”
“We’re not working for the bastard,” Levi growled again.
“Not what I meant, and you know it,” I growled right back.
Levi muttered a not so nice name under his breath.
Remi ignored the byplay, staring at the images on the monitor, and like Levi, I could practically see him turning the puzzle pieces over in his mind. “Back up. The first question is, are they independent or still working military somehow?”
“Military would mean they were some blacker-than-black-ops unit,” Levi pointed out. “Their records burned to cover deep-cover shit. Makes them extremely dangerous.”
“And if they’re not military,” I added, “they’ve evaded the best of the best for five years.”
We shared a look, caution and question and tension all rolled into one.
Remi squatted down. Diesel eased closer to him with a whimper, offering his head for petting. My brother ran his fingers through the dog’s short black fur. “They’re on the run, like you said, Eli. Someone knowing who they were would be a powerful weapon to get them to do what X wants. It makes sense that, like us, they’re being blackmailed into this.”
“What’s ‘this,’ though?” Levi asked.
“It might not matter,” I said as a slow kernel of an idea sparked in my head. “If they don’t want to do this any more than we do…”
Levi grunted. “Divide and conquer.”
“Right.” Remi straightened. “Make contact and find out exactly what’s going on, and if they aren’t with X willingly—”
“Get them on our side.” Contact with Mikaela. Real contact. Anticipation began a sharp buzz beneath my skin. “Work together to get rid of this bastard, whoever he is.” I met Levi’s eyes. “They’re dangerous, bro. They’re wanted for involvement in the death of an officer; no way Delta Force has stopped looking for them, even after five years. They’re not gonna sit down for tea with us.”
“No, they won’t,” he agreed. He narrowed his gaze on Remi. “We’ll need you for this, brother.”
Remi looked torn. He’d committed to Leah and their child, and that meant not taking unnecessary risks. But he knew as well as we did that a four-member team of mercenaries of this caliber was nothing to fool around with. We needed him.
“I’m sorry,” Levi said in the heavy, waiting silence.
“Why?” Remi asked.
I caught the skimming of his eyes over Diesel before meeting Remi’s again. “Because I’m asking you to choose between the security of your family and the safety of your brothers.”
Remi closed his eyes. “I’m not choosing between you. We’re family, period.All of us.” When his eyelids lifted, determination stared out at us. “When do we start?”
I looked to the monitor, to the image of Mikaela Nixon. Reached out to tap the screen. “She’s in charge.”
Levi slapped me on the back. “Let’s find her then.”
OceanofPDF.com
Chapter Eleven
Nix —
I made my way carefully down the creaky metal stairs, trying to avoid the screeches that were sure to wake the rest of my teammates this early in the morning. My goal was in the kitchen—I knew because the scent of coffee permeated the downstairs of the warehouse already. Rhys was on watch the second half of the night. The man might not be able to cook worth a damn, but his coffee kicked ass and took names.
His look as I wandered in wasn’t the least bit surprised. The cup waiting empty in front of the coffeepot only reinforced how well he knew me. Whenever things got rough, when I couldn’t sleep because my brain wouldn’t stop turning over stones to find a solution to a problem, it was Rhys I sought out. He was more than willing to be my sounding board when I needed it.
I poured the rich black elixir into my cup and brought it to my nose, the scent perking up my senses enough to cut through the fog a sleepless night had gifted me.
“You look like shit,” Rhys said, too good-naturedly for a man who’d gotten half a night’s sleep. Without moving my coffee cup away from my face, I raised my middle finger and pointed it in his direction.
“You’re welcome.” His smile was obscured as he drank from his own cup. There wasn’t a table in the long galley kitchen, or I’d have suggested we sit down before I fell down. Or Rhys would have. As it was, we both leaned, me against one counter and him against the opposite, relishing the coffee as our thoughts—or at least my thoughts—raced.
