Love and Let Die

Chapter Nine

Ian kept his hands steady on the wheel, his eyes on the road, but that wasn’t what he was seeing. He kept seeing those tears in her eyes as she pulled the robe around her, hiding her body. Somehow he’d expected her to throw him her middle finger and walk through the club naked. He hadn’t expected her to turn in on herself, to look so fucking fragile. Charlie wasn’t fragile. She didn’t take crap from anyone.

Except him.

“Take a right at the next stop sign.” Alex sat beside him in the big SUV. “You know I wouldn’t have to give you directions if you had just let me drive my own damn car.”

Ian turned at the proper time. He didn’t reply to Alex. It was one of those times when words were meaningless.

All three women were in the back. Charlotte didn’t seem to have a problem with high protocol now. She’d been perfectly silent, her eyes on the world outside the window. Those eyes hadn’t sought him out once since the moment she realized he was serious about the “just sex” thing.

Do you think any of it was real?

Her question was playing in his head. It had been real. Every fucking second had been real for him. He’d loved her. He just didn’t trust himself to try it again. He couldn’t put himself through losing her a second time. He couldn’t trust her at all.

Could he?

Revenge should be so much fucking sweeter. He should be sitting here in Alex’s dad car that barely did sixty-five on the freeway thinking about how much fun it was to show Charlie exactly how he felt. But revenge seemed hollow when all he wanted to do was hug the person he was avenging himself on until he could get her to smile again. It kind of made the whole fucking effort pointless when he felt like a shitbag because his revenge plans worked.

“Don’t miss the next turnoff. It can be hard to see in the dark. Again, a good reason for me to drive,” Alex said.

“Alex.” Eve had a way of making her husband’s name—or any name—a perfect admonition.

“I’ll have you playing with your curtains in no time at all.” His night vision was perfect. Alex had to be getting old if he thought he couldn’t see that turnoff.

“It’s not curtains. It’s countertops. The contractor wants to make sure they’re the right ones before they install them tomorrow,” Alex explained. “The invoice says it’s our soapstone, but the contractor thinks it’s the wrong color.”

Ian shook his head. There was no way to comprehend the changes that had come over his best friend since he’d remarried Eve. “What the fuck is soapstone? Why do you care about countertops? What is wrong with you, man? You’re dragging us around in the middle of the night over home décor. When did you become Martha Stewart?”

Alex let his head fall to the side window, bashing it a couple of times before he sat back up. “Well, we all need a hobby, asshole, and you took listening to Guns N’ Roses and drinking Scotch so I was left with fucking soapstone countertops, which are, according to our designer, the very latest in home design and which I can very likely manage to shove up your ass if you don’t stop being an arrogant prick.”

“Alex, I thought we were going to be patient with him,” Eve said in a very gratingly calm voice.

Alex turned to look at his wife. “He’s driving my goddamn car because he’s such a control freak he can’t let anyone else drive.”

Eve’s hand came around the headrest, resting on Alex’s shoulder, and he settled down.

It sucked because Alex seemed just about ready to start a fight and that would have been so much better than the silence that descended on the SUV again. It might do him some good to pull the car over and trade some punches. Ian glanced up at the rearview mirror. It was dark, but he could get a glimpse of her face. He wasn’t used to Charlie being so silent or so withdrawn. She was confident, bold, his match in most ways, but now she had gone someplace deep inside herself and he didn’t like it. She was in the car, but her head was somewhere he couldn’t touch her. It was perverse. He knew he’d been the one to send her to that place, but it bugged the shit out of him. He would rather she yelled at him and called him a bastard to this silent sorrow.

“It’s the last house on the left,” Alex explained. “Just pull in the driveway and Eve and I will run inside.”

And leave him out here with Charlie? Probably not a good idea. Sure, Chelsea was here too, but he’d already proven he didn’t have a lot of discretion when it came to Charlie.

What he wouldn’t tell her was he’d run to the bathroom like a scared five-year-old because his first instinct had been to lie in bed with her all night long. He’d forced her to do it doggie style because he didn’t trust himself not to kiss her. Because the minute he’d gotten her naked and alone, all he’d wanted to do was get inside her and stay there for hours and hours until he was tired and he could wrap himself around her and sleep with her in his arms.

He pulled the car into the driveway. Alex and Eve’s house was nice. Big. It looked like the perfect place to spit out a couple of rug rats and grow old. It was also covered with trees and shit and they were too close to the house. What was he thinking?

“Stay here.” He turned off the ignition and reached for his SIG.

“What’s wrong?” Alex asked, reaching for his own and checking the clip. “Eve, get your head down. All of you.”

“He’s worried about the trees,” Charlie said in a monotone. “He thinks assassins will be hiding in the trees and they’ll drop down on us, and he’s wondering why you picked a place where so many people could lay in wait to kill you. I think it’s pretty. I like the trees.”

“The trees help cut down on electricity bills,” Alex said, shaking his head. “We weren’t thinking that someone would hide an army in the live oaks.”

“Which just proves that you’re losing it, my friend. I bet you don’t even have perimeter sensors set up.” He carefully opened the door, checking the trees in front of him for any movement.

“I haven’t even moved in yet.” Alex proved he could still move quietly. Ian heard the quiet snick of the passenger door closing and then Alex was beside him, his eyes watching their six.

They moved together like the team they’d been for the last five years. Back to back, they checked the yard.

“I can’t exactly set up motion detectors and freaking laser rays. I would fry every poodle and stray cat in the neighborhood, not to mention the out-past-curfew teens.”

“It would teach ‘em to not be out past curfew.” He didn’t get what the problem was. A little laser never hurt anyone. Much.

“You’re demented. And what the fuck happened to Charlotte? I thought things were looking up when you carried her off to the privacy rooms.”

Ian turned, checking the ground for any signs of disturbance. Alex moved cleanly, never giving up his back.

“Charlotte is just realizing that I won’t be as easy to manipulate as last time.” He relaxed a little. There was nothing out in the yard. He didn’t like the neighborhood they’d driven through. There were too many people, too many cars parked along the street that might or might not belong to residents. How was he supposed to properly assess risk in an area like this? He had to hope Alex had at least remembered to triple bolt the doors and install a decent security system. “I think we’re clear.”

Alex stepped back, shaking his head. “Well, you’ll be fun at the housewarming party. Eve, come on. We’re not going to be murdered in the front yard. Let’s go see how much the contractors fucked up.”

Eve hopped out of the SUV, straightening her skirt.

“Come on, Charlie, Chelsea. Let’s go find out what the fuck soapstone looks like.” He wasn’t about to stand out here in the middle of the night with nothing but a SIG between him and however many Russians were trying to kill Charlie. God, he hoped Liam caught at least one of the fuckers. Maybe these assassins were like Alex and held teas to talk about each other’s love lives. Then all Ian had to do was squeeze the fucker’s balls until he gave up how many of them there were.

Charlie eased out of the seat, followed by her sister. She didn’t look around, simply followed him as Alex unlocked the door and led them inside.

“Seriously? You have one lock?”

“You know what, buddy, when I actually move in here, I’ll let you paranoid out the whole house.” Alex opened the door and let Eve in.

Ian watched as Charlie walked by him. Her head was up, but there was a vacantness to her eyes that he didn’t like. She was somewhere else and there was a wall between them. He couldn’t see it, but he could feel that it was there. It was stupid because a wall between them was exactly what he needed, and yet it rankled. It was getting under his skin. His instincts were to tear that fucking wall down the same way he’d wanted to rip off the robe she’d worn around her like a bit of body armor. After they’d had sex, she’d stood in the doorway of the privacy room looking torn apart and fragile and he’d wanted to take away her only bit of protection from him.

It wasn’t fair or reasonable, and logic seemed to have utterly fled his abilities, but then he’d never been able to think around her.

So why the hell was he carting her back to his place and where the hell did he think she was going to sleep? Was he going to shove her ass on the couch?

“I like the archways,” Chelsea said as she walked through the foyer.

Eve smiled. “They used to be square, but I think the arches really open the place up.”

“They left their tools out again, Eve. I swear, I’m going to fire these guys. Why is there a nail gun sitting in the middle of my kitchen? That’s a concrete nail gun. Do you know what that can do to a person?” Alex asked, his irritation plain even from a room away. “It’s lucky we stayed in town since the contractor looks like an idiot. We’re going to have a long talk tomorrow.”

Charlie glanced up, but nothing on her face changed. She just moved into the living room where Alex had turned on the lights. Eve disappeared from view, too. Chelsea didn’t. She waited until everyone had moved on and then turned on Ian.

“What did you do?”

It seemed to be the question everyone was asking today. “I believe that’s none of your business. If your sister wants to talk to you about her sex life, then that’s up to her, but I’m not feeling chatty right now.”

“You broke her, you motherfucking, son-of-a-bitch, turdwad asshole.” Baby sis had a potty mouth, and she didn’t mind getting in his face. Well, she would be in his face if she had another foot of height on her.

“I didn’t break her. I gave her exactly what she wanted.” Except she did seem a bit broken and sometimes, when she thought he wasn’t watching her, he saw how lost she looked.

“She has spent five years with one goal and one goal only. Getting back to you. I told her you weren’t worth it, but she wouldn’t listen to me. She’s in love with you. She’s never been in love with anyone. Do you think I haven’t thrown men at her for years trying to get her to see that you’re just like the rest of them?”

He’d treated her like shit, so he probably was like the rest of them. Her father’s home likely hadn’t been the best place to meet a nice guy. “Do you want me to go down on bended knee and beg her forgiveness? Because that ain’t going to happen.”

If he went down on one knee, he’d try to get lower. He hadn’t spent enough time on her pussy. God, he already wanted her again. He’d wanted her about three seconds after he’d come. Another reason he’d pulled away.

He hadn’t wanted to put on that fucking piece of latex. It had been there in his brain, a little whisper that told him if he just let nature take its course, he would have to keep her. If he kept her then she would have to toe the line. She would have to give up all the criminal shit and become the woman he was sure she could be. All he had to do was let a couple of swimmers loose and he would have Charlie bound to him forever.

Or he would at least have a piece of her when she left him again because there was no way he would ever be separated from his kid. Thirty-nine years of being sure he would die childless and the thought of a kiddo with her eyes and her smile had him acting like Papa Bear.

“I want you to let her go.” Chelsea kept her voice low.

“I’ve been trying to do that since the minute she walked back in,” Ian shot back. “She doesn’t seem keen on leaving.”

“You know what, I should hug you for being the ass I knew you had to be. Thank you, Ian Taggart, for not being able to see how lovable she is. And know this, if you hurt her again, I know how to crucify a man in three keystrokes. You think she was the one who got you on a no-fly list? That was me. I can do way worse, and I won’t hesitate. When this is over, she’ll leave with me. It’s my turn to take care of her and that means getting rid of you.”

Chelsea turned and shuffled off.

Ian thought about strangling her. He could probably do it with one hand. She was the reason Charlie had betrayed him in the first place.

Yep, he was so far gone, he was thinking about killing a girl who had probably seen more violence in her life than he had.

But something about her questioning his rights to Charlie really got his gut rolling.

The minute he’d seen her again, his possessive asshole had risen right back to the surface. He’d only ever felt that way about one woman. Hell, he’d been possessive of her when he’d thought she was dead. He’d kept her memory deep inside him, sharing only the smallest bits of her with his best friend and only to explain why once a year he went on a bender.

Ian followed Chelsea through the archway and into the great room. Charlie was looking at the floors saying something about the finish on them.

She was into this house shit? The way she moved, he would think she wouldn’t care.

Unless she dreamed about putting down roots, about being able to pick out finishes and countertops and fucking paint for the kitchen because she wanted a house that was a home.

He hadn’t picked out anything on his own except the security system. He’d just left it all the way the last owners had wanted it. He never really thought about it, but he actually didn’t like it all that much. The playroom. Yeah, he’d picked out the stuff for the private playroom. So, great, his “home” was personalized with hooks and suspension gear and a really well-made spanking bench.

And he kind of liked the soapstone or whatever was on the countertop. It wasn’t ugly and it looked like it was just the right height to fuck Charlie on.

She shut down the minute he came in the room, that hint of a smile on her face gone in a flash. Well, he’d asked for it.

Chelsea was giving him the good old stink eye. She was likely trying to figure out how to fuck him up real good over the Internet.

He went to the glass doors leading out to what looked like a porch and a big backyard that hadn’t been fenced in yet. Yeah, glass doors from ceiling to floor was such a great idea. If Alex was trying to invite someone to kill him, he was doing a damn good job.

A little red light flashed through the night, finding its way right over Ian’s heart. Motherfucker. The invitation had been received and accepted.

“Take cover!” He dove to the left just as a high-pitched ping shattered those gorgeous glass windows Alex had probably just had installed.

Hitting the floor, he rolled past what looked like the rest of a stack of that flooring Charlie seemed to love so much. “Charlotte, get the fuck down. Get behind the counter and don’t you move.”

The great room separated them, and he damn near panicked that he wasn’t there to cover her body with his. He took his eyes off the door just long enough to watch her pulling her sister down, taking a protective position over Chelsea.

Alex had his back flat against the wall, his gun up, right beside those glass doors. He hit the lights, sending the room into darkness, taking away the sniper’s advantage. Unless he had night vision. Which he probably had if he was halfway decent. Fuck. He knew he should just wear a pair around his neck, but Grace had convinced him he would look like a douchebag. He was damn straight keeping a set in the car from now on. Everyone on the team would. He would make it a rule.

“How many?” Alex asked.

Eve moved quietly, not panicking at all, over to where Charlie huddled with her sister.

Ian stared out. “I don’t know. One, I suspect, since that was how many little red lasers got pointed at my chest. How do you feel about lasers now, Alex? You worried about kitty cats?”

“Fine.” Alex shot the word his way. “I’ll install lasers and be the mean old man at the end of the block who murders everyone’s pets. How are we getting the women out of here?”

“We kill the bad guys and then we can get the girls out.” He really wasn’t sure there was another way. Unlike the earlier attempt, this asswipe had them pretty well pinned down. If Ian was the operative, he wouldn’t give up in this case. He would move positions and wait for the target to come out of hiding. He really wasn’t sure how many of them there were. If he took them out the front, they would be easy targets if the fucker had a partner or was a really fine sprinter.

“Call the police,” Eve said. “I’ll get to my cell.”

“No,” Ian shot back. “We call the police and she goes on their records. No police.”

“Call the police, Eve. If someone locks me up, then so be it. I’m not getting everyone else killed,” Charlie said. “The sirens should scare him away for now.”

What was she thinking? “Don’t you dare pick up that phone. She won’t just get carted off to jail. She’ll go someplace where no one will see her again. Do you understand me, Eve?”

Eve nodded and didn’t make another move for her purse.

Unfortunately, Charlie had her own purse. She reached in.

Now she decided to be self-sacrificing? “Charlotte Marie Dennis, I swear to god, I will make sure you never sit down again if you dial that phone.”

“Ian, this is serious. I can’t let other people die for me.” She started to move her finger across the screen.

Chelsea reached up, grabbed her sister’s phone, and before Charlie could stop her, lobbed it across the room.

“Damn it, Chelsea.”

But he was on Chelsea’s side this time. And he had to deal with this fucker because Charlie was his responsibility. “Give me cover fire.”

“Ian?” Alex started. “What the fuck are you going to do?”

He was going to do something stupid, and he didn’t have time to argue about it. The glass had shattered into neat little pieces all over Alex’s brand new floors. Ian jumped over the glass and out into the yard.

He heard Alex curse and then lay out a quick pattern of gunfire. Alex’s lot was at the end of the street in a sprawling, wealthy neighborhood. It looked like his closest neighbors were a quarter mile away, but the cops could still show if someone was awakened by gunfire.

He was so sick of this. Usually he only had to deal with one attempt on his life a day, but Charlie just had to raise the stakes. Given where he’d been standing and the trajectory of that red laser, the man had to be in the woods behind Alex’s house.

Ian ran to the left of where he suspected the shooter had been hiding.

Sure enough, he felt something ping by his shoulder, grazing him like a near miss with a lightning bolt. Awesome, now he was bleeding. His night was turning into a clusterfuck.

He changed course, moving behind the big trees, using them as cover. He placed his back against one and focused on the sounds around him. His sight wouldn’t do him as much good as his hearing. It was a new moon, and Alex had to pick a house that didn’t have street lamps.

He stilled himself, slowing his heart rate. There was no need for adrenaline here. This wasn’t fun. This was a job, and he would do it quietly and efficiently. Silence. He heard the wind and someone breathing. His opponent wasn’t as professional as he should be. His adrenaline was up. He was dragging air in his lungs and choosing between fight and flight.

Ian could have told him the decision had been made the minute he took that shot.

The ground underneath his feet was hard, and he had no doubt that the minute he moved, something would shift. But that meant the douchebag assassin would make some noise, too.

Ian held his position, trusting Alex to keep the women safe and Charlie in line.

No sound except the idiot’s breathing, and he couldn’t pinpoint exactly where that was coming from. Behind him and to his left, he couldn’t be sure where to fire, so he held. It never paid to play a card before he knew he had the winning hand. Patience was the name of this game. The first one to move lost, and he didn’t intend to lose.

Two minutes passed, maybe three. The woods became quiet, the world narrowing to the wait for that one sound that would tell Ian where the assassin was. Patience. Patience. Patience.

A twig snapped as the man made a run for it.

Ian pivoted out, his hand coming up. His eyes had adjusted but all he needed was that one flash of white where the man’s hood had drifted back, exposing pale skin.

He squeezed the trigger in one easy move, his target in sight.

Now he heard the best sound of all. The sound of his enemy hitting the ground.

Shit. He hoped he hadn’t killed the fucker.

Moving quickly, he crossed the distance between them, keeping his SIG ready in case he hadn’t completely incapacitated the man who had tried to shoot him to get to Charlie.

A black-clad figure lay still on the ground, his hand on what appeared to be a sniper rifle. Ian kicked it away and the body didn’t move. Shit. He needed more practice time with moving objects. He was getting rusty because he hadn’t meant to hit the fucker’s jugular, but it appeared he had given the amount of blood pumping out of his victim’s body.

Alex was going to kill him for getting all that blood on his brand new yard. Using his boot, he turned the body over, assessing it. Six foot. Probably one ninety. He was dressed in all black, assassin chic. A black bag had fallen to the side. Ian rifled through it. Cartridges, extra pair of gloves, cell phone, passport, some cash, and a flask. Vodka. Ah, the Russians. They did like to celebrate the little victories.

He picked up the kit and started for the house. They would have to get rid of the body, but maybe something in the assassin’s bag would offer up some useful intel.

He stopped just before he reached the back doors. The lights came on, nearly blinding him.

Ian jumped out of the way. Alex wouldn’t have turned on the light. Gunfire cracked through the air. Fuck. There was more than one. His eyes started to adjust to the light, and he saw a man standing under the archway, a handgun pointed at Alex.

“I am looking for the girls. Give them to me and I let you and your wife live,” he said in a thick Russian accent.

Alex had the man in his sights, but they were at a standoff because for some damn reason, Eve had left her safe position behind the soapstone-covered counter and was on the floor in between the two men with guns. The Russian had one upped Alex. He was two fisting, with one gun trained on Alex and the other steady at Eve’s head.

He couldn’t see Charlie or Chelsea.

“Somehow, I doubt that,” Alex replied, his voice steady.

“I know you have them here. I was watching place. I think to take your wife and exchange for girls, but you bring them to me. You love wife? You want her to live?”

“Let my wife go and we’ll talk about this. I might know where they are.” It was a stalling tactic. Ian set the bag he was carrying on the ground as Alex continued. “I would be willing to make an exchange, but not until my wife is safe.”

Ian chanced looking around the corner. Alex was attempting to give him time to get back to the house and surprise the fucker, but he couldn’t just go in guns blazing.

Luckily, those lights were bright and Ian was covered by the gloom outside. He could see inside, but it would be difficult for anyone to see him from the circle of all that light.

The Russian had moved closer, the gun in his left hand touching Eve’s head. She was turned away from the Russian. Her eyes were steady on Alex, but no panic showed there. Good girl. She wasn’t feeding Alex’s fear. She was calmly waiting for him to resolve the situation because she trusted her Master. Charlie could learn a few things from Eve.

“But, my friend, if I let wife go, I have nothing to bargain with. Perhaps I take her with me.” There was a nasty chuckle from the assassin as he used the barrel of his gun to play with Eve’s hair. “Maybe after few hours, you will be in mood to share.”

Eve wasn’t feeding Alex’s fear, but this fucker was damn straight going to make Alex blow, and that could be bad for everyone. He had to be precise. Ian shed his fear for Eve, his concern for Alex, and let the plan roll out in his head. Two steps toward the door. That was what he would need. It would leave him shrouded in darkness, but get him close enough that he wouldn’t accidently hit Eve. Head shot. One shot straight through the brain pan and those guns would drop. The target was a little under six feet, but they weren’t on level ground, so he would adjust two inches higher.

All the tension left his body and he stepped up, ready to take out his second asshole of the evening.

But Charlie popped up first. She rose from behind the counter, the nail gun the contractors had left behind firmly in her hands. She had one hand holding the thing up and the other was pulling back the safety trigger that allowed the nail gun to fire. Her pretty face showed no expression as she pulled the trigger and popped two big-ass nails into the side of the Russian’s head and neck. He never saw it coming, didn’t react in any way except to get a stupid expression on his face and fall to the side, dead before he hit the ground.

God, she was hot. She was a fucking warrior goddess with a damn nail gun, and he kind of wanted to do her right then and there, despite the many bodies now littering Alex’s property. Eve might be really good with submissive trust, but Charlie had amazing aim and a steady hand.

Eve sat in the middle of her floor, seemingly unable to move. “Did Charlie just kill that guy with a nail gun?”

Alex was kneeling, trying to help his wife up. “Yes, thank god.” He hauled her into his arms, pulling her away from the corpse. “Are you all right?”

“Is there blood on the hardwoods? Because I don’t think our warranty covers that,” Eve was saying.

Ian watched Charlie as she calmly put the nail gun down, but he noticed her hands were shaking, a fine tremble. Her hand went down, helping Chelsea stand. No one was there to cuddle Charlie, to wrap her up and let her know everything would be okay. He could see the sadness in her eyes, the knowledge that she was alone.

Fuck. He wanted to go and hold her and praise her for her skills with turning construction machinery into killing weapons.

“I wouldn’t move if I was you, mate,” a familiar voice said from right behind him. He heard the distinct sound of a safety being clicked off. “I know you’re quite fast, but I’m no slouch myself, and I would really hate to kill a friend.”

How had he missed it? He’d allowed someone to get his fucking back because he’d been busy worrying about Charlie’s feelings. “I’m not feeling too friendly right this second, Damon.”

A hand touched his shoulder. Damon Knight, MI6 agent and usually an ally, slapped him on the right shoulder. It hadn’t been so long ago that he’d helped Ian with an op in London, but it looked like the cooperation ended there. “I have to ask you to drop the gun, mate.”

He thought seriously about taking the chance, but Knight was hardcore. He might feel like shit about it, but he would kill Ian if he deemed it necessary to complete whatever mission Her Majesty required of him. Fuck, he was going to kill Simon if he was in on this. He would take that Brit apart limb by fucking limb and feed him to the dogs. He didn’t actually own any dogs, but he would adopt the nastiest set of mutts he could just for the pleasure of feeding them Simon’s body parts if he’d joined the team just to spy for Knight.

Ian dropped the SIG, hating every moment of being caught with his pants down. “What do you want, Knight?”

It was a dumb question. There was only one thing Knight could possibly want. “I want The Broker. For the last few years, MI6 has been tracking a hacker who calls herself The Broker. She’s been selling information all around the world. If the Agency isn’t interested in her, too, I would be shocked. I’m not trying to fuck with you, Tag. I believe Charlotte Denisovitch is The Broker. She’s been causing trouble and my bosses want to have a little talk with her. She has information we need. I promise I’ll watch out for her. I won’t let her come to any real harm.”

Just a little torture. He looked inside the house. It wouldn’t be more than a minute or two before Alex got his shit together and came looking for him, but it was already too late. Damon wouldn’t have come alone. “Where’s Baz?”

Damon Knight and Basil Champion had been partners for years. If Knight was here, Baz would be backing him up.

“He’s here.” Simon walked from around the side of the house, Baz in front of him.

Baz’s slender frame belied what Ian knew to be a ton of lean strength. He was wearing a black long-sleeved shirt and black slacks, looking dapper as he moved through the yard. “Hey, Damon, look who I found.”

“I told you to put your fucking hands up,” Simon ordered. “Do you really think I won’t shoot you? I don’t even bloody like you.”

Ah, no dogs for the Brit. Simon was getting a raise.

“Now, seeing as I have your boy here and you have my boss, I suggest we all take a little time out and talk this through like the gentlemen I know we are,” Simon said. “Or we can start shooting and see who’s standing at the end.”

“You’ve been in America too long, Weston.” The gun at Ian’s head disappeared as Knight sighed. “You’ve turned into a bloody cowboy.”

No, Simon had gone from MI6 agent to Ian’s man. There was no way to downplay the beauty of loyalty. Ian had taken Simon in after he’d fucked up, shown him that he didn’t have to conform to MI6’s rigid rules, and Simon paid him back with loyalty.

“Boss, Adam picked up this one’s trail about two hours ago. I rather thought they might decide to pay you a visit. Damon, in case you’re thinking about trying something tricky, you should know I have a sniper on you. Jesse? Are you in place?”

A voice came from above. “Sure as fuck am. Tell Alex his roof is totally solid. I have a great view from up here. I would have taken out the first dude, but Ian seemed to be having fun. This one, though, is all mine.” A nice red dot appeared on Knight’s forehead. Right between his eyes.

Yeah, he was getting to like Jesse, too.

Alex sighed from his broken patio doors. “Could we keep the body count down? As it is I have no idea what we’re going to do with the sniper and the Russian Charlie used as a carpentry experiment. Why don’t we all come in the house and talk this thing through? There has to be some way for Damon to get what he needs without taking Charlie to Britain’s Guantanamo Bay.”

Alex was a spoilsport. “Fine, but you need to think about moving, man. This is a dangerous neighborhood. Hey, those contractors didn’t happen to leave a shovel behind, did they?”

Alex’s eyes went wide. “You can’t bury them in my backyard. Damn it, Ian, we’re putting in a swimming pool in the next couple of weeks. How am I supposed to explain that? First my French doors, then the hardwoods, and now you want to turn my backyard into a fucking body dump. It’s not happening, Ian.”

He walked away, muttering under his breath.

“I think that’s what happens when good agents lose their brain to a pretty bird,” Knight said.

At least they were in agreement on one thing.

He picked up Knight’s gun and followed Alex into the house.