Covert Vengeance Read online

  He swiveled around to aim a rueful smile at her. “I learned fast to pick my battles with this one. She barely ever lets me drive. Such a control freak.”

  “Hey.” Megan jabbed him in the ribs with her fingers and started the engine. “This is my sister we’re escorting. I get to drive.”

  “Yes, dear.”

  Amber couldn’t help but notice the ring on her sister’s left hand. For some reason the sight made her strangely wistful. Women like them didn’t get to have love stories or happily ever afters, but Amber had a feeling Megan might just have beaten the odds. At least, she hoped her sister had.

  Shaking that line of thinking off, she focused on the situation at hand. Kiyomi was pale and tense beside her, with Cordova radiating that silent air of power from the other side. “What’s the plan?” she asked her sister.

  “We’re taking you straight to the manor,” Megan said as she steered out of the parking lot. “Trinity’s brought in more backup. You’ll meet them all when we get there.”

  ****

  The sensor at the gate alerted him that someone was approaching. Looking up from the expense spreadsheet he’d been going over, Marcus glanced at the monitor on his desk. When the familiar gray Range Rover came into view he got up and made his way down the hall to the front door.

  Technically he’d owned Laidlaw Hall for almost four years now, but he didn’t play lord of the manor well. He felt stupid and entitled standing there on the step waiting to welcome his new guests, but he couldn’t very well hide in his study for the next few months—or however long this arrangement lasted.

  As the vehicle pulled through the gate and started up the crushed gravel drive, he walked to the bottom on the front steps, his left hand resting on the top of his cane, Karas beside him. “Here are our new guests,” he said to her, absently stroking the top of her furry head with his right hand. His new beard itched slightly, but at least it covered some of the worst scarring on his face and neck. It couldn’t cover the swirling, puckered skin around his eye, however, or disguise the limp from his hip injury.

  It was entirely possible this would prove to be a huge mistake on his part in the end. For certain it threatened the peaceful existence he’d made for himself out here, his private refuge and place of healing about to be inundated with more strangers. But given everything that had happened, what choice had he had except to offer his home for this cause?

  He was solitary by nature, and a hundred times more so since that last op in Syria. Yet having Megan come to live with him a few months ago when she’d needed a safe place to go to ground had been one of the best decisions he’d ever made.

  She’d brought life to this old mausoleum. And him.

  He’d gone from feeling obliged to her to being fond of her, then become outright attached to her. Not to mention protective. She meant the world to him. So when danger had stalked her once again and brought her and her sister back together, he’d offered his home as a safe haven for them and the other Valkyries they were able to bring in.

  “What have we got ourselves into this time, eh, girl?” he murmured.

  Karas tipped her head back to gaze up at him with her clear, intelligent eyes and thumped her sturdy white tail on the stone. Oblivious to the danger this would put them all in. Although she was no stranger to danger. She’d been just weaned from her mother when he’d found her as a pup in the shelled-out rubble of a building outside Damascus, abandoned, hungry and ridden with fleas.

  Down the drive, the Range Rover kicked a faint trail of dust out from under its tires, and he was conscious of a mild sinking sensation in his gut. With Megan and Tyler now living in the gatehouse, the only remaining rooms for guests were in the main house, with him. He was about to be surrounded by strangers.

  Megan jumped out with Tyler just as both back doors popped open. A tall, well-built man with a military bearing and a penetrating gaze stepped out of one side. On the other, Amber emerged, helping another woman from the back seat.

  Amber straightened and turned to face him, her arm around her injured friend.

  Hard. That was the first impression he’d had of Megan’s sister when he’d met her during a brief meeting in London some weeks ago, and it still held now. Cold and remote.

  But then he saw the way she watched Megan so carefully and relaxed a little. Whatever Amber had done in the past, she clearly cared about her sister. “Welcome. I’m Marcus. Please come in.” Damn, he felt pretentious welcoming them into this great pile of stones left to him by a great uncle he’d barely known.

  Megan introduced him to Jesse Cordova before turning her attention to the woman leaning heavily into Amber’s side. An injured Valkyrie Amber and Cordova had rescued. That’s all he knew. “And this is Kiyomi,” Megan said.

  The woman straightened slowly and lifted her head. Marcus barely concealed his shock when her black hair fell away to reveal the state of her face. Her name and golden skin tone suggested she was of Japanese descent, but her features were unrecognizable. Whoever had captured her had beaten the shite out of her. Her face was so swollen in areas her skin was shiny, a mass of bruises and cuts. The one eye she had open was fixed on him with utter wariness.

  Marcus understood that all too well, and given her condition he didn’t want her on her feet a moment longer than necessary. “Come inside. Your rooms are all ready for you.”

  Megan and Amber flanked Kiyomi as they came up the steps, Tyler and Cordova behind them. “Where should we put her?” Megan asked him on the way through the door.

  He thought about the remaining rooms. “The Blue Room.”

  Decorated by some obscenely rich female aristocrat back in his family tree somewhere, it was feminine and soothing, and it overlooked the back garden with a view of the stables beyond. This young woman had a lot of healing to do in the coming days and weeks. That room would give her the most peace and privacy he could offer.

  His cane thumped on the old flagstones as he followed them through the foyer to the staircase, Karas’s nails clicking softly behind him. The sight of the stairs before him had his left hip and thigh aching before he’d even reached the first tread. Since being injured and the subsequent surgeries he’d endured after being evacuated from Syria, stairs had become the bane of his existence.

  Only two years ago he’d been a Senior NCO in the SAS, one of the most elite warriors in the British military. He’d been at the top of his career, respected and admired by his peers and the men who served under him.

  Now he was a semi-crippled, forty-four-year-old recluse living way out here in the Cotswolds, who’d just had his solitary life upended.

  Ahead of him the women moved slowly up the stairs, even more slowly than him. He paused two treads behind them, taking in the way both Amber and Megan were careful not to touch higher than Kiyomi’s waist. The woman was barely moving, all but swaying in place.

  “Just a few more stairs,” Megan told Kiyomi softly while urging her onward.

  “Want us to carry you?” Amber offered.

  Kiyomi shook her head. “No. I can make it.” Her voice was strong and pure American, no trace of a foreign accent. Not a surprise, since the Valkyries were all American citizens.

  Though she was clearly in a lot of pain, she kept going, doggedly taking one step at a time up the rest of the stairs and then down the carpeted hallway on the second floor. What had happened to her?

  “Right in here,” Megan said, steering her into the Blue Room.

  Marcus brushed past them and hurried to turn the covers down, then quickly stepped back to give them room. Kiyomi paused at the side of it to brace both hands on the mattress, a film of sweat coating her face and her lips pressed into a thin, bloodless line.

  “Bet it’ll feel good to lie down again,” Amber murmured, holding Kiyomi’s arm steady as the injured Valkyrie slowly climbed on. A low, almost inaudible groan escaped her as she stretched out gingerly on her stomach, her face turned away from them.

  Marcus noted the spots of blood
coming through the back of the purple hospital scrub top she wore. “Did she get treatment in Germany?”

  “Yes,” Amber answered, easing the back of Kiyomi’s top upward.

  Marcus clenched his teeth together to hold back a hiss as she pulled the edge of the bandage away to reveal the welts and rows of stitches marring that soft, golden skin. Lash marks. They’d fucking beaten and whipped her, so savagely that they’d laid her back open. And God knew what else they’d done to her besides that.

  His insides twisted, a fierce protectiveness forming toward her as he recognized the fellow survivor before him. They’d both suffered capture and torture in Syria and lived to tell about it. And he could imagine what else she’d endured as a female captive. His heart twisted for her.

  After checking the wounds, Amber secured the bandage back in place, tugged the scrub top down and drew the covers up to Kiyomi’s shoulders. “There. Sleep now.” She stroked a gentle hand over the back of Kiyomi’s black hair, the movement oddly gentle for someone he knew to be a lethal assassin. “We’ll bring you something to eat when you wake up.”

  She turned to go but Marcus stopped her. “You shouldn’t leave her.”

  Amber frowned at him. “She’s still got sedatives and pain meds in her. She won’t even know I’m gone, and I need to brief everyone about what happened.”

  “No, you need to make sure you’re here when she wakes up.” After what she’d been through Kiyomi deserved to see a friendly face when she awoke in unfamiliar surroundings, and she’d be less frightened if someone she knew was beside her.

  Sometimes a familiar face was the only thing that helped someone hang on to the last thread of humanity and will to live.

  Megan had done that for him. Maybe Amber could do the same for Kiyomi.

  Chapter Ten

  Before now he’d only ever seen places like this on TV or in movies.

  Jesse stood in the empty downstairs hallway to wait while Amber and the others got Kiyomi settled upstairs. The manor house was at least a few hundred years old, built with old money, and must cost a fortune to keep running.

  If Marcus Laidlaw was a combat-wounded former SAS, it would take a hell of a lot more than his savings and disability checks to run this place. The interior space Jesse had seen so far was done up tastefully with a mix of antiques and newer pieces. Old oil portraits and landscapes hung from the foyer and hallway walls. The floors in this part of the main house were made up of large, honey-toned flagstones, worn smooth and shiny after centuries of wear.

  “Jesse?”

  He turned at the feminine voice behind him. A black-haired, fair-skinned woman stood in an open doorway, a knee-length dress hugging her curvy figure, her deep blue stare penetrating.

  He raised his eyebrows. “Trinity?”

  Her lips quirked in amusement. “We meet at last.” She gestured for him to enter the room with a nod. “Everyone’s coming in here.” She waited in the doorway to shake his hand first, her grip firm, then led him into some sort of study that was straight out of an Edwardian-period movie.

  On the far side of the spacious room stood a wide mahogany desk neatly stacked with books and papers. Tufted leather chairs and a sofa filled out the room. The left-hand wall featured a large, open fireplace with a carved stone mantel, logs laid and waiting in the grate. Every wall was covered with bookshelves stuffed with leather-bound volumes, the sweet scent of them permeating the air.

  “Wow,” was all he said.

  “Best room in the house. Marcus uses it as his study.” She flicked a hand at the seating area near the desk. “Sit wherever you like. The others will be here shortly.”

  He chose one of the tufted leather wingback chairs over in the far corner and kept looking around. Seriously great room. He pictured himself sitting in front of that fireplace on a cold autumn night, nursing a glass of aged whisky as he stared into the flickering flames in the hearth and thought about absolutely nothing.

  It would be nice to think about absolutely nothing for a while.

  “Thank you for everything you’ve done, by the way.”

  He looked over at Trinity, arms folded beneath her breasts as she leaned against a bookcase. “My pleasure. It’s been interesting so far.” Amber had captivated him.

  She laughed softly. “I’ll bet.”

  “Cordova, that you?”

  Jesse’s head snapped around to face the door. He pushed to his feet, grinned when a familiar figure walked through it a moment later. “Hell, they didn’t tell me you were coming.”

  “Didn’t want to spoil the surprise, I guess.” Miguel Bautista strode toward him, a smile on his hard face. “You look pretty good for a ghost.”

  “Yeah? You too.” Jesse hadn’t seen him in years. He accepted the quick hug, unable to control the wince and slight groan that slipped out when Bautista thumped a strong hand on his sore back.

  That inky-dark stare met his, missing nothing. “You get roughed up on the job, or what?”

  “A little, yeah.”

  “Amber made you work for it, huh?” the blonde standing behind Bautista said.

  “She did.” And then some. Maybe that was partly why he was so into her.

  Bautista curled an arm around the woman’s shoulders, his gaze filled with pride as he looked down at her. “My wife, Georgia.”

  Still hard to believe a badass like Bautista had taken that plunge. “Nice to meet you,” Jesse said, sizing her up. A female sniper. How awesome was that?

  Her pale blue eyes warmed a fraction as she smiled. “Likewise.”

  “You gonna tell us the story about how you finally caught up with Amber?” Bautista asked.

  “Let’s just say she led me on a merry chase,” he answered wryly.

  As if on cue, Amber appeared in the study doorway. She locked eyes with him, then glanced around at everyone else as Megan, Marcus and Tyler came in behind her. “I can’t stay long. Kiyomi’s sleeping, but I don’t want her to be alone when she wakes up.”

  “Fair enough. Let’s get started,” Trinity said, then made the introductions.

  When Marcus was seated behind his desk, his left leg stretched out on an ottoman, she began the meeting. “Here’s what we know. The contract on Amber was definitely initiated by Yury Stanislav. Miguel was good enough to tell us what he knows about him. Based on that, Jesse’s input and our own research, we can safely say that Stanislav won’t stop until he gets Amber. Obviously we’re not going to let that happen, but until this immediate threat is dealt with, we’ll all have to up our security measures.”

  “Where is he now?” Jesse asked. He’d alerted the base when they’d landed at Landstuhl. As crazy as Stanislav was, he wasn’t nuts enough to try to enter restricted airspace to attempt an attack there. No, he was way smarter and more cunning than that.

  “He left that same airfield in Syria about thirty minutes behind you, that’s all we know so far. We’re in the process of tracking where his flight landed, but by now he’s probably found the last leg of your flight was bound for England, so for the moment let’s assume he’s in the UK somewhere.”

  “What about the others?” Amber asked, drawing Jesse’s attention. She had to be tired. She’d been through a lot over the past few days—weeks—yet it only showed in the shadows beneath her eyes. Her inner strength impressed him. “I’ve been off the grid and busy with finding Hannah, so I haven’t had time to work on anything else. Have you ID’d any other surviving Valkyries we can still bring in?”

  “Possibly a few, yes. Our mission is still to recover them and bring them here, then transition everyone into our own WITSEC-style program,” Trinity said to everyone. Then to Amber, “You and I’ll need to get working on that immediately to get everything ready while we try to locate the remaining operatives.”

  Amber gave a vague nod, and even from across the room Jesse could practically hear the wheels turning in that busy mind. “I’ll start tomorrow, but I’ll be leaving before first light.”

  Megan looke
d at her sharply. “No way.”

  Amber met her sister’s gaze, her expression set. “I’m not staying here with the rest of you while there’s a target on my back. If Stanislav is in England, it’s only a matter of time before he finds me. If I stay here, I might as well paint a big bull’s-eye on the roof so he can take us all out.”

  “Well, I’m not letting you leave again, so how’s that?” Megan fired back.

  “I can’t stay and you know it.” The you can’t make me in her tone was clear.

  “The manor is secure,” Marcus said quietly in his northern English accent, drawing everyone’s attention. “As long as everyone follows certain procedures, this will be as safe a place as any for the time being.”

  “I agree,” Trinity said, then looked at Amber. “There’s strength in numbers. If we all work together we’re practically unstoppable.” She gestured around her. “Everyone in this room knows the risks and yet, here we are. We’re all equipped to handle this, and our best shot at getting rid of Stanislav is to bring him out in the open first.”

  Amber gave a tight smile. “You mean I get to be the bait.”

  “Yes.”

  Jesse didn’t like the idea. Hell, he hated it. But if anyone could survive acting as bait in something so dangerous, it was Amber. And she was absolutely their best hope of drawing Stanislav out of the shadows.

  Like it or not, it made sense, and they couldn’t afford to sit around in hiding. Each day that passed increased the likelihood that any remaining Valkyries out there would be hunted down. This team had to be proactive and eliminate Stanislav if they were going to be able to carry on with rescuing others.

  Jesse swept an assessing gaze over Amber, stopping at her face. Whether this plan went forward or not, he would do everything in his power to keep her safe. He wasn’t going to lie, this was more than just a job now. He admired her. Respected her and her ability.

  He also wanted her with an intensity he’d never experienced before.