Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 135382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
His insides ached at the thought of another man’s hands on her, but he’d made that bed and he had to lie in it. He owed it to her. She’d given him everything she had that night and he’d taken her like a rowdy sailor.
“What’s going on?” Damon asked. “I take it that wasn’t the doctor.”
“Not sure yet, but I need to get someone to ping her cell phone and find out where it is. O’Donnell said she’s in Dallas, but she didn’t answer. It was some arsehole with a German accent. Maybe Dutch. I can’t tell. Give me a minute.”
He handed Damon his phone and shuffled through his own, looking for Alfi’s number.
Damon was already on his line. “O’Donnell, give me the rundown on what’s happening with Stephanie Gibson. Yes, I know it’s midnight there. I’m aware of the time difference.”
O’Donnell wasn’t going to be helpful, but Alfi might. The phone rang once and then again and again before the line picked up.
“This is Dauterre. I’m partying right now. This better be good.”
Brody could hear loud, thumping industrial music. “Where the hell are you? You’re supposed to be in Africa.”
“Brody, my mate!” Dauterre’s Aussie accent was thick over the line. That’s what happened when he drank heavily. “Brody, I was thinking about you. Gosh, mate, you have no idea how much I’ve wanted to talk to you.”
“Are you in a pub? Where the hell are you? You’re supposed to be watching over the doctor. You remember her? I’m paying you to check in on her.” He was going to kill Alfi. “Where is Steph? What happened?”
Alfi went silent for a moment. When he spoke again, he seemed a bit more sober. “No idea, mate. I suspect she’s at her clinic. Ain’t seen her in a while. I got things to do with my time, too, you know.”
“She’s not there. She had to leave in a hurry because someone’s trying to kill her. I believe that’s a fact you might have mentioned to me.”
“Well, then I’m sure she’s probably on her way to see that Irishman she always talks about.” Alfi sounded tired, his words slurring. “Nice lady, she is. I’ll check in on her next time I’m in Freetown. It’s probably a misunderstanding or something. Don’t be so high strung. The girl is fine. Everything is normal. You know you only told me to call you if something outside the norm happened.”
He hung up. Alfi was drunk somewhere and he would be useless until someone sobered him up.
“Bastard.” Damon was staring down at his phone. “Told me to mind my own business and then hung up on me. This is my business. That’s my name on the bloody door. Arrogant Irishman.”
Brody looked at his boss. O’Donnell might have done him a favor. “There’s only one way we’re getting answers.”
“Go there and demand them. Well, you’ll be useless until you do. Though you’re not using the jet for what will be personal business. You’ll have to fly commercial.” Damon shuddered as though that was the worst punishment he could hand out.
Brody had only flown private since he’d come to work for McKay-Taggart and Knight. Before then almost all his flights had been in the back of an SASR transport aircraft. “No problem.”
“Take one of the lads as backup,” Damon ordered. “If the good doctor is in trouble, I have no doubt you’ll convince Big Tag to let you work the case. Owen’s working with Nick and Robert’s acting as Ariel’s bodyguard while she’s working a case for MI5. I need Kay here in case anything comes up, so it’s got to be one of the others.”
“I’ll take Tucker.” He’d said he wouldn’t mind turning a blind eye to any random violence that might occur.
“I’ll let him know to be ready. I would call Big Tag, but he’ll back his man. You’ll have to make your case in person.” Damon strode into the gym.
Brody walked past the lift. It would take too long. He jogged up the stairs.
He would get to the bottom of this. Even if it killed him.
Chapter Two
Stephanie looked at the laptop screen, slowly scrolling through a rogue’s gallery of mercenaries.
“The trouble is we mostly have pictures of these men when they were younger,” Adam Miles explained. “Once they join the ranks of soldier of fortune, the dirty ones tend to not let themselves get lined up for portraits we can use to ID them.”
“Wouldn’t that make the world a simpler place?” Charlotte Taggart set a cup of coffee in front of her before sinking into her seat.
“So says the woman once wanted by every intelligence agency in the world,” Liam quipped. “You’re a lucky one we didn’t have that kind of database a few years back.”
Charlotte shrugged. “Yes, well, now I play for the good guys and I totally want a database.”