Total pages in book: 165
Estimated words: 154925 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 775(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154925 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 775(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
Ah, Chelsea Weston. A name that should strike fear in the heart of anyone who knew something about the Dark Web. She’d once been the queen of information on the dark corners of the Internet, and she still did specialty work for intelligence agencies across the globe. If anyone could frame an operative and get away with it, it was Chelsea Weston, and Hutch would do his best to help her after what had happened to his wife this evening.
“You are killing my years’ long operation.” Joseph’s words were even, but there was a tightness to his stance that worried Kyle.
“No, I’m saving your life,” his uncle corrected. “Because I need you to understand that there is no way I allow you to put MaeBe at risk like that. Kyle has to back her. He’s her partner, hopefully her husband someday. I’m not. I’m as close as she’s got to a father, and I get to lay down the fucking law and not give a damn about the repercussions of her feminism.”
“And her mom isn’t here with us,” Charlotte said. “So I get to represent her feminism by telling you if you tried this with one of my sons, the result would be the same. I would have a gun to your head, and you would get to decide if you want to allow the parameters of your operation to change or if you want to die. We’ve got an extra-large freezer. There’s space for you.”
“But we should all agree that I’m not old enough to be MaeBe’s father. It’s a metaphor,” Big Tag insisted.
Charlotte shook her head. “Nah, he’s old. There’s plenty of room there.”
“This is not fair.” MaeBe totally sounded like one of the Taggart girls. “I can do this job.”
“She can. You made sure of it, Uncle Ian.” He had been given a massive gift, and he intended to use it to its fullest. “You trained her. Trust her now.”
Ian didn’t look his way, but there was a slight curling of one side of his mouth—a smirk that let him know he was proud of the assholish way Kyle was taking advantage.
MaeBe’s eyes rolled. “Like I believe that but fine. Fine. Ian, why won’t you let me go in? And you are a couple of years older than my dad. He got started young. So, Pops, why can’t I go undercover and get us all out of this problem?”
“Because this isn’t a simple op. That woman’s emotions are involved, and he can’t protect you from her.” Ian proved that great minds truly did think alike. “And you are her poison. She’ll enjoy torturing you, and I can’t trust a foreign operative to choose you over his mission. I know I wouldn’t have when I was working for the Agency. I would have told myself the mission was more important. Kyle can’t make this choice because he would be taking something away from you and you could resent him for it. I can make it because I don’t care if I piss you off. I want you alive.”
“Beyond that, we don’t want the Canadian operative’s death on our consciences,” Charlotte continued. “You’ve been here too long. It won’t work. You can’t walk back into your safe house and tell her you lost all the men but managed to get MaeBe. If you go back on your own, it will be suspicious that you’re perfectly fine but everyone else died.”
Kyle had figured out an option no one else had. “We could brutally injure him. Putting him in the hospital would be an excellent cover.”
He would volunteer.
“That might work,” Drake agreed. “What was it he said about the upper left quadrant? We could start there.”
“He’ll need a couple of bullet holes, too.” Kyle could see the entire thing play out in his head, and he felt good about it. He would need some tarp, though. Or they could do it down in the bodyguard gym. That was an easy to clean surface.
“You are not shooting him.” MaeBe frowned fiercely up at him. “If anything I get to do it. I’m the one who got stabbed.”
Thank god she was on board. It had probably been the whole dad thing that did it. It was funny how those relationships worked.
“Fine. Fine. Tank my whole career.” Joseph pulled his phone out and unlocked it. “You’re probably right. I think she’s on the edge right now. She could kill me without a thought. I take it you want to tell her I’m dead, or do you want to trade me for what? I assure you she won’t care about me.”
“Then you’re welcome.” Ian took the cell and in a moment he had found the number and put it on speaker. The ringing sound filled the space.
“John? Do you have her? I want to hear her.”