Page 51 of Rescuing Rebel

Haven’s fortress sprawls before us, a hulking windowless structure hewn from cold gray stone. Guards with automatic rifles patrol along high fences topped with coils of razor wire. More are stationed at regular intervals on the roof, scouring the compound below.

Our SUV crawls across the central courtyard, the only sound the crunch of gravel under our vehicle tires. The blank facade reveals nothing of the secrets within.

We stop outside a fortified entrance flanked by more armed guards. Their assessing gazes sweep over Stitch as we exit the vehicle. Stitch will attract unwanted attention, but we can’t do this without her. Mitzy was clear about that. Jeb’s computer skills may be phenomenal in the field, but he can’t hold a candle to what Stitch can do.

We proceed with caution.

I angle my body into a subtle, threatening posture, staring them down. My hardened gaze also sends a message. She’s with us, and no one is to touch her.

After an uneasy beat, their eyes skitter away.

We’re greeted by a stone-faced man who introduces himself only as Kaufman. “Ethan Blackwood, welcome to Haven.”

“Thank you.” I quickly introduce my team.

His calculating gaze sweeps over me while my team lines up behind me. When his gaze pauses on Stitch, his mouth tightens ever so slightly. Jeb closes the distance, standing closer to Stitch.

Protecting her.

I level a steady look at Kaufman. “We can handle any job discreetly, regardless of team composition, but it ismyteam.” My meaning is clear.

“Good.” He stands straight as a rod, practically clicking his heels as he comes to attention. “Discretion is paramount for the job ahead.” He motions us down a stark hallway. “Come. We have much to discuss.”

I step closer, invading his space. When I speak, my voice is low, laced with subtle menace.

“Let’s be clear. My teammates will not be touched, sampled, or breathed on.” I hold his hooded gaze. “The women inside might be your playthings, but mine is off-limits. Are we clear?”

Kaufman’s eyes widen briefly in surprise before his expression shutters. “You seem remarkably well-informed about certain aspects of our operations.” His hand drifts toward his waistband. The guards around us tense, hands poised to draw their weapons.

I stare Kaufman down, utterly unruffled by the silent threat. “As I said, discretion is paramount in my work. I make it my business to know everything about a client before engaging.” My voice hardens with steel. “Now, do we have an understanding regarding my team?”

A charged beat passes where violence hangs in the air. Then Kaufman relaxes subtly, hand moving away from his gun. “Of course. You have my word; your people will remain untouched.” He motions briskly down the hall. “Come. We have much to discuss.” But as we turn to follow, his calculating gaze lingers on Stitch for a beat too long.

He’s suspicious but doesn’t know why he should be.

The game is on now, and he has no idea of the ruin that awaits inside his precious walls.

He speaks to me over his shoulder nonchalantly, as if he owns me.

“You come highly recommended for matters requiring—discretion.” His English is precise, with only a hint of an Eastern European accent.

I meet his gaze steadily. “You’ll find we can be very discrete, no matter the nature of the job.”

Kaufman’s mouth tightens, eyes narrowing slightly at the implication. But he doesn’t comment on it.

“Our systems were impenetrable until a few days ago.” Kaufman’s voice drips disdain. “This breach must be contained quickly and quietly.”

He leads us to Haven’s control room, where Haven’s IT guys try in vain to trace the hacker’s digital footprints. The rapid clicks of typing and the low murmur of strained voices create a chaotic backdrop.

“Looks like you’ve got a problem.” I make a show of studying the data, hands clasped behind my back. Kaufman’s presence beside me is a constant threat, his interest as welcome as a spider evaluating its next kill.

When Jeb asks a pointed question, Kaufman’s initial flash of suspicion quickly morphs into a ticking in his jaw and an appreciative nod. This man is suspicious by nature and knows enough to recognize when someone’s trying to fool him. We have to be careful not to overplay our hand.

I turn to Kaufman, injecting authority into my tone. He needs to know I run my team. “To locate the origin of this breach, we need full access to your systems, surveillance feeds going back six months, and the physical servers, including all monitoring devices installed on the premises.”

Stitch quietly elbows her way to a keyboard, hip-checking one of Kaufman’s men out of his chair. Her fingers hit the keys and begin to dance.

“You won’t be able to access our systems without the passcode.” Kaufman stiffens beside me. He’s not wrong about that. I have to get him to open up his kingdom, as the saying goes, and give us a full run of the place.

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