“I breached your security to get onto the property and into the house. A job well done, I must say. But your computer—I have to admit, this last little piece is giving me fits.”
“Tell someone who gives a flying shi—” Without warning or change of expression, the man on her right struck Honey across the face. She’d missed some sort of signal from Savage, because the man wouldn’t’ve acted on his own. She staggered backward and he jerked her upright, almost pulling her arm from its socket.
Her face burned hot, but her simmering anger turned ice cold. “Even if I considered giving you access, what would you do with it?” Even if Savage knew how to get through the biometric matrix, fingerprint recognition, and other failsafe’s, if she made more than three errors trying to access data, that hard drive would be destroyed.
“You really are a dumb blonde, aren’t you?” Savage said conversationally, her dead eyes sending a shiver of revulsion down Honey’s spine. Absently she picked at the prosthetic make-up on her cheek, gouging out a dollar-sized chunk, which she flicked to the floor.
“The money’s for future terror activities; she who has the most money wins.
This
project is to ensure the destruction of T-FLAC, once and for all. It’s a large thorn in my side.” She tore off a section of the nosepiece, exposing most of her own nose, and the tanned skin beneath the faux fair skin. “Once I’ve transferred the intel I want, I’ll destroy all this.” She waved a careless hand around the room. “Here, and at HQ. Years of intel, lost to you and in my hands. A twofer, as they say.”
Her smile strengthened Honey’s resolve. The pathological narcissism, the complete insanity of what she was hearing, made her skin crawl. She made sure her expression didn’t change.
“I don’t trust anyone the way I trust you, Winston,” she worked at the chin prosthetic until it came free, then twirled it on the end of her fingertip as she talked. “We’re like this.” Savage tossed away the chin piece to hold up twined fingers.
“Give me your password, luv, and let’s get the show on the road.”
“I’ll save you a lot of time, you crazy bitch! I won’t give you jackshit, so shoot me now and be done with it.”
Savage laughed. “Yes, you will.” Lifting the semiautomatic, she pointed it at Pollack and popped off a shot. Pollack bucked and cried out. Savage gave her a level look. “I’ll shoot off his digits one knuckle at a time. Password. Now.”
THIRTY-FOUR
H
oney shuddered at the unrelenting tone, though she straightened her shoulders. “I’m not continuing this conversation until I’ve checked to see how badly he’s hurt.”
Savage scraped away her left cheek. “You don’t have a choice.” She paused to pick bits of make-up from under her nails. With what looked like real skin hanging off her face in ragged light and tanned sections, she looked like a leper.
Honey gave her a stony look.
Savage glanced at Navarro. “She doesn’t think I mean it. Maybe you can convince her that no one tells me no.”
“I’d let her go to him,” Navarro suggested from across the room. “You know Winston, once she’s got the bit between her teeth, she’s relentless. Hell, you taught her.”
Savage gave her a hard look, indicating with a wave of the Makarov to the men holding her that they should haul her over to Pollack. “Hurry the fuck up, Princess.”
Honey was frog-marched to Pollack’s location. Shaking off Baldy and Skinny’s cruel grips on her upper arms after a nod from Savage, she sank to her knees, her back to the room.
Pollack was eighty-six years old. His hair was as white as dandelion fluff and his one vanity. Fit and athletic, he was no feeble old man. Still, if he’d been gut-shot…Honey placed her fingers against the artery under his jaw. His pulse was a little fast but normal for a man his age. He opened one rheumy blue eye. Relief swamped her.
“He needs emergency medical treatment!” She let a hint of urgency tinge the words as he looked down at his shoulder, then back up at her.
She frowned, puzzled. He did it again. “Seriously, Catherine. How fucking cooperative do you think I’ll be if Pollack dies? Have one of these goons take him upstairs to his nurse, Kimberly. We’ll negotiate from there.”
“I’m okay,” he mouthed.
No, he wasn’t. She had no idea how badly he was hurt; his belly, his hand . . . He certainly wasn’t his usual robust self. Without moving her torso, Honey slid the tips of her fingers under his shoulder and felt an unexpected lump. She raised a brow. He had a gun? Pushing against the fabric of his ever-present blazer and edging the gun free, she turned to look at Savage. “Did you hear what I said? Let him go, and I’ll help you.”
Not just
a
gun, her baby SIG, that she’d slid along the floor when Savage had instructed they throw down their weapons.
Three bullets left.
Including Savage, they faced eight opponents. Now, add herself and Navarro to the three-bullet equation, and they had a damn good shot at making it out of here alive, and keeping T-FLAC’s data inviolate. It took considerable self-control to keep even the suggestion of hope off her face.
“Move it, Princess and stop wasting my time.” Savage leaned back in the chair, her feet still up on the console as she ripped at her throat piece. “I’ll think about it.”
Shifting to balance on her haunches, Honey rested her forearms on her knees, settling in to wait, the small gun now hidden by her hip. One thing she had in spades that Savage did not, was patience. “I’ll stay put until you decide. But if Pollack dies, all bets are off. I die, and you’ll
never
get in.”
“I’m hurt. And here I’ve gone to so much trouble to get us to this point.”
“Who was your inside man?” Rafael asked, clearly to distract Savage. “Nielson?”
Savage turned away from Honey to look at him with a coy and grotesque smile. “A girl never tells all her secrets.”
Ten feet separated Honey from Rafael now. There were so many weapons in the space, that no matter what the end results were, her precious array was going to take a major hit when the inevitable shit hit the fan. Goddamn Savage.
“Bombings, stealing millions?” His eyes flickered briefly to her, then back to engage Savage. Too bad they weren’t telepathic. “Attempting to frame Winston for what you’re doing? All pointless and not that well executed in the end.”
“God, you are so fucking obtuse, the both of you! Do you think all this—” She waved a finger in a circle as if stirring a pot. “This. You and you.
Together?
Think it was synchronicity? An accident? Of course not. I made sure there was just the right situation to require a team combining cybercrimes
and
a bomb tech. A terror event widespread enough,
newsworthy
enough, for good old T-FLAC to send their best. Just like Noah and his ark, I chose wisely. And two by two, you walked right into it.”
Honey turned her back on Pollack, and without missing a beat, he tucked the small pistol into the designated fold on the back of her LockOut. Now all she had to do was wait for just the right moment, or realistically, a moment that was almost right.
“You couldn’t have kn—
You
killed Jack?”
“We’re all part of the ultimate statistic, Princess. Ten out of ten of us die eventually. I just helped Hansen reach his expiration date a little early to expedite things. You
were
next in command.” Savage clapped her hands like an exuberant child, clearly delighted with her cleverness. “And
voilà
!” She spread her hands wide. “My dream team.”
“For what?” Rafael’s question ensured Savage turn her head, to look from one to the other as if she were watching a tennis match.
“Andriy is too set in his ways, he’s getting old—”
“Actually, Kobevko isn’t getting older at all.”
A sly smile crossed her face. “Ah, you killed him. Exactly as I’d hoped. Black Rose needs new blood. We’ll make an unbeatable alliance.”
“You do realize I’m on the side of the good guys, right? And while it might be a small point, I
dispose of
bombs, I don’t build them.”
“Don’t knock it ‘till you’ve tried it. You’ll have unimagined wealth. But even more of a rush, is the absolute
power
. Intoxicating. Your talents are wasted with T-FLAC, Navarro. You have the skill set I require and the expertise in the bedroom to keep me happy. Enough incentive and every man will switch allegiance. You married Rachel, but it was
my
bed you should’ve shared the night you found her dead.” Savage’s eyes lit.
“Four months preggers,” she murmured dreamily. “If I’d known beforehand, I would’ve dragged out the torture that much longer. Maybe handed you your baby once I’d dug it out of her. What a cream puff.”
Honey wanted to vomit, but Rafael’s face remained impassive. “The bombings killed hundreds of people, damaged millions of dollars’ worth of property, and destroyed businesses. Overkill. With the necessary skills, you could’ve accessed the backup sites, taken the money, and no one would’ve been the wiser.”
While Savage was looking at Rafael, Honey inched closer so she could see how far Savage had gotten inside the protocols that would lead her into the T-FLAC data. Satisfied by what she saw, she knew Savage wasn’t even close.
“What’s the fun in that?” Savage swiveled on her chair to encompass them both. “This way, I had the unpleasant knowledge that you were fucking your way across Europe while I manipulated the strings. That pissed me off, I must admit. You’re a dick, Navarro, but, but you’re
my
dick! I wish you’d stop trying to pretend otherwise. You know the best part?” She demanded of Honey, tuning her head so fast her long red braid slapped across her ravaged face. She flung it over her shoulder impatiently.
“Everyone thinks you’re responsible, Princess. Am I brilliant? Or brilliant? Yes. I think so.”
Honey had to wait while hatred flowed through her like a poison. No emotion, she told herself. Not an ounce. Savage was trying to rile them. She couldn’t allow it to work.
Focus. Breathe. Do your job.
Honey repeated her mantra. She might have her SIG, but it only held three bullets. Her aim had to be fast and it had to be true.
Knowing Savage was this crazy had been academic before. But now, hearing her, seeing her face to face—the reality was nothing short of stunning. The hard pounding of her heartbeat thrummed against Honey’s eardrums as her blood heated her skin.
Focus. Breathe. Do your job.
She took a deep breath
.
“So I get blamed for what you did? Go to
prison
like you did?”
“A very unpleasant place. I have no fondness for Colorado, and even less after experiencing their hospitality. At first, I thought I’d just piggyback off your skills and have your ass fired, Winston. Can’t have you dogging my footsteps, you’re just too conscientious and, honestly? Too
good
to let something like this go. Navarro’s right. You’re a terrier with a bone.”
“Why do you care if I’m out of a job?
“Because you’ll have nowhere else to go but to me.”
Honey motioned to Pollack. “
This
is your way of making me a job offer? Seriously? With my superior skills? There are
dozens
of places that would take me in a heartbeat.”
Savage shrugged. “Not when they discover you’re a traitor and a rogue operative.”
“The private sector wouldn’t give a crap. And maybe I don’t want back in this business. Maybe I want to stay home and raise cattle and babies.”
“You?” Savage scoffed. “You don’t have a maternal bone in your body. Your lack of emotion is what brought you to my attention in the first place. Who do you think coined the sobriquet Ice Princess in the halls of T-FLAC?” She picked bits of throat make-up away. “Somewhere between toying with you in Dresden and London and watching Andriy play with you in Prague, I reconsidered your true value. I realized you’d be more of an asset to me dead than alive. And with your electronic fingerprint, I can be you whenever I like. Honey Winston will be dead, long live Honey Winston. What do you think?”
“
I
think you’re a crazy bitch who should be shot.” Honey pulled the baby SIG from the small of her back and fired in one fluid motion. No hesitation, no adjustment to her aim, just the way her firearms instructor had taught her. Textbook.
At that close range, Savage didn’t even have a nanosecond to look surprised before she crashed backward into the computer monitors, a small hole between her eyes.
THIRTY-FIVE
J
esus fuck. He hadn’t expected
that
. Rafael didn’t have time to contemplate the wonder of Honey taking matters into her own hands so efficiently.
With perhaps a couple of seconds to make good on the element of surprise, he twisted to knee the Greasy-faced guy in the nuts, then spun his now free arm in a leopard punch, similar to a snake striking, to Scarface’s eye, driving his knuckles deep into the eye socket, his entire body weight behind his arm. Both of his opponents went down, writhing.