Page 2 of In The Darkness

To Nick’s right, Gideon came to Xavier’s defense, like usual. “You were the one who brought up the sex doll. Seems to me you have sex on the mind. Is it because you aren’t getting any?”

A Navy Seal and expert in hand-to-hand combat, Gideon had left the service a year ago. Lately, he’d spent his time working with Nick on his cases and being as big a ballbuster as his buddy Xavier. A few years older than the hacker, he always joined him when he started busting chops.

Hunter rolled his eyes, knowing better than to spar with both of them. “I have no problem talking about who I’m fucking, but something tells me it’s just the two of you who are obsessed with where everyone else’s dick is going every night.”

He looked over to his left and smiled at Roman. Of all the men around the table, Nick knew for a fact that he had no interest in Xavier and Gideon’s sex obsession. An Army Ranger, he tended to say little, preferring actions to words. At the moment, the grimace that twisted his expression told everyone he didn’t give a single fucking damn about talking sex during their card game.

“Whose turn is it to bet?” Roman asked, clearly wanting to return the focus to poker.

“Nick’s,” Xavier quickly answered, pointing at him. “He’s just hoping his cards get better if he holds them longer.”

Collapsing them into a single pile, Nick shook his head. “Fold.”

“And the reason you couldn’t say that five minutes ago?” Gideon asked in disgust as he threw a red chip into the center of the table. “Raise.”

“Fuck you,” Nick said, folding his arms across his chest. “You’ve gotten to be a royal pain in the ass since you met Xavier. You know that?”

Gideon laughed and waved off his claim. “When did you get so damn sensitive, Nick?”

Seated next to him, Marius tossed two more chips out. “Your five and up five. And get off Nick’s back. We could always go to your shithole apartment and expect you to play host with the fucking most.”

Nearly as serious as Roman, Marius, ex-CIA, shed his spook vibe when they all got together and liked to poke at Gideon and Xavier when they got going.

Standing from the table, Nick gave him a nod and a smile as Gideon chafed at his comment about his place. A typical bachelor, his apartment offered little more than four walls and a bed. They’d tried moving the game to other places, but after trying Gideon’s practically empty rooms and Hunter’s condo in a building nearly an hour away from D.C., they all decided Nick’s place in Georgetown with a poker table and enough room to fit them all worked best.

“Deal me out,” Nick said as he headed for the couch. Maybe if he sat out a few hands his luck would return.

He grabbed the remote and pointed it at the TV. Tilting his head back, he listened to some show as he stared up at the ceiling above him. Bits and pieces of words from the TV and the men behind him floated into his head, but nothing sounded very interesting.

As the hand ended and Gideon celebrated a win with his usual gloating, Nick’s phone vibrated in his pants pocket. Startled, he fished it out and looked at the screen through bleary eyes, not recognizing the number. Who the hell was calling him at just after ten at night?

He answered it curtly. “Hello.” Unlike the way most people made it sound like a question, when the word came out of his mouth this time, it sounded more like an angry utterance.

“Hello, Mr. Hanson? Mr. Nick Hanson?” a deep voice asked in a cultured way that made even those common words sound important.

“This is him,” he answered, even more tersely than he’d said hello.

“Mr. Hanson, my name is Marshall Gilmore. I’ve been told you’re just the man I should hire for a job I have,” the man said confidently, as if they’d already struck a deal on this job of his.

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”

A long moment of silence hung in the air before Marshall Gilmore answered flatly, “Because I’m told you’re the man to call when you need someone to go undercover.”

Nick sat up straight on the couch and focused on the TV as the man’s statement bounced around in his head. That’s who he’d been for years in the FBI, but he hadn’t had a case like that in far too long. Long enough that he’d turned to seeking out family members for old rich ladies to supplement his bank account.

Maybe wishes did come true after all.

“You’ve got my attention, Mr. Gilmore. What do you say we meet tomorrow and talk about this job of yours you think I might want?”

“I don’t have that long to wait. My daughter’s been kidnapped and gone for a week. The FBI can’t seem to find its ass with both hands, so I’d like you to come to see me tonight. If you’re wondering if this is worth your while, I’m paying three hundred thousand dollars to get my daughter back, and if you get her back safely, I assure you for the rest of your life you’ll see a handsome benefit from it.”

For that amount of money, he’d take a drive to this guy’s house and hear what he had to say. Nick hadn’t had a kidnapping case in ages, so the job already intrigued him.

“Okay. What’s the address?”

Marshall Gilmore gave him the information and then said, “Mr. Hanson, I can’t bear the thought of my daughter being hurt. They’ve had her for too long already. I don’t want to lose her to these people.”

“Give me a few minutes to get ready and I’ll be there within the hour,” Nick said as he stood from the couch to find his shoes.

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