Matt Drake 14 - The Treasures of Saint Germain (4 page)

“We ready?”

“Hell yeah.” Alicia eyed the bed. “Round three?”

“Later perhaps.”

“Perhaps, eh? We really do have to work on your vocabulary.”

The couple exited the apartment and the complex close to the Pentagon, heading into work, and not a cloud marred the horizon. Drake saw the great calm now that the rain had stopped and felt it in his emotions too.

The problem was, what came next?

*

Smyth looked up as Lauren walked through the door. The expression on her face was breezy, innocent, but he knew where she’d been.

“Traffic bad?”

Lauren struggled with an answer. He wondered if she’d lie to him. “It was okay.”

“Thought you’d have been back an hour ago. You remember we have to be at work for half-six?”

“Yeah, but we can still make it.”

Smyth grunted, giving nothing away. “It would have been easier—”

She rounded on him. “Say it. Why don’t you just say it?”

He gave her the familiar tetchy grimace. “Thought a girl from New York would have held out longer.”

“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” There was an underlying danger in her voice, something he only understood when he re-examined his words and considered her past.

“Your secret,” he said quickly. “I only meant your secret.”

She looked like she had a thousand secrets to keep, probably because she did. “That is one broad statement.”

Smyth grunted again, testy. “You know what I mean. You know
exactly
what I mean. Dancing around it only makes it harder.”

“I don’t dance around anything, Smyth. Like you said—I’m from New York.”

“What do you see in him?”

There it was. Laid out on the line, grated, drawn from Smyth’s raw throat like a length of taut barbed wire.

Lauren toned down her quick, caustic attitude when it came to Smyth, he knew. She’d had a tough upbringing, a hard life, and had once told him she found it hard to engage fully with the opposite sex because she’d seen it in all its forms of degradation. He saw the struggle to stay civil on her face.

“He’s trying to help us.”

“No. He’s a freakin’ terrorist, caught red-handed. And now he’s trying every trick in the book to stay out of super-max.”

“He was coerced. In any case, he’s changed.”

“Nicholas Bell is a Pythian,” Smyth threw at her. “Nothing’s changed.”

“You don’t know how he’s been helping.”

“I don’t
want
to know. I don’t care.”

Lauren threw her hands up in exasperation. “And there you have it. It’s just
you.
Anger before reservation. Guilt before question. Stop being such a negative asshole all the time.”

Smyth flinched. “So now I’m the asshole, huh?”

“Don’t expect an apology.”

Smyth didn’t. Lauren found it almost impossible to say sorry even when she was blatantly wrong.

“You spent time with this guy before. Only one night, but yeah, you managed to get close. That didn’t stop him colluding with the enemy, Lauren.”

“Once you’re in it’s hard to get out.” She alluded to her own past.

“What’s this? You trying to identify with him?”

“Of course not. But I see what he’s doing. Smyth,” she licked her lips. “He’s helping us track Webb through their network of old contacts. Thanks to him we know Webb visited Romania recently. His giving us every name, every number. This is information you can’t find
anywhere,
because it only exists in someone’s head and doesn’t have to be given up!”

Smyth watched her face as she broke off, trying to rein it all in. Saw the emotions there, the deeper feelings, and grew scared.

More than scared. Lauren was being manipulated and didn’t know it. Bell was using her, and Smyth hated the terrorist all the more for it. How could he stop Nicholas Bell now?

Lauren indicated the time. “We’re gonna be late.”

He didn’t care, but picked up his jacket and followed her out of the room. Usually, through years of training he was easily able to compartmentalize.

Not this time. He just couldn’t shake the feeling that Nicholas Bell had to be stopped. Permanently.

*

Torsten Dahl made the journey to work swiftly and alone, still smarting from his recent ‘discussion’ with Johanna. Since the very recent reality checks in their lives they had been trying to make a better go of it, to work something out. At first, after the Barbados hell appeared to change them forever, the rocky road had smoothed out, given them an easy passage, safe havens opening up all around. But even in the short time since, pitfalls had started to reopen, past problems rearing their obnoxious heads. On the positive side his kids seemed to have shrugged the horrors of that day off, with only an occasional reference bringing back the nightmares. Oh, and Julia never wanted to see a beach again. At least for the next three weeks.

Dahl flicked his ID through a couple of card readers and then stopped abruptly as his name was called. Well, shouted actually. No—
screeched.

“Torsten! Torsten! Hold up!”

He sighed. He was the only person assigned to look out for her and without him, she wouldn’t be able to gain admittance to the building.

Not the worst possible outcome,
he thought.

Kenzie slipped through the gates, the only comforting sight in his opinion the lack of the customary katana. Offensive and dangerous, the ex-Mossad antiquities smuggler had developed a soft spot for him, and never failed to remind him of it.

“So you’re still here,” he said gloomily.

“Helping you people has its perks,” she said. “And also keeps me under the radar of several notorious kingpins who may or may not be on the lookout for me.”

“Not to mention the hope that the US government gives you a pass on older crimes,” he said.

“Yeah, and I wish they’d, how do you say: get their asses in gear?”

Dahl saw no reason to remind her yet again that he wasn’t American, or English or any other of the nationalities she kept coming up with. Together, they started down the corridor, side by side.

“You given Mrs. Dahl the hoof yet?”

Dahl rounded on her. “That’s none of your business. And, Kenzie, stop trying to get under my skin.”

“Where would you like me to get?”

He tried not to see her long black hair and lithe body, the promise in her eyes.

She grinned. “I won’t be around for long, you know. Best take advantage while I’m agreeable.”

“Why? ’Cause you’re gonna be trying to kill me in a month or two?”

Kenzie shrugged, not ruling it out. “Sides change, my English friend. As do allegiances. Every day sometimes. Just ask the Americans. Oh, and speaking of side changers . . .”

Dahl glanced up as she nodded. Mai Kitano and Beauregard Alain were heading up the corridor, also side by side. He found it a little odd at first that they’d arrived together, then realized Kenzie and he must appear the same way. He nodded at Beau and smiled at Mai.

“Heard anything from Grace?”

The Japanese woman smiled softly. “All the normal, natural, content and typical things that one might expect from a teenager.”

Dahl returned the smile. “I’m happy for her.”

The group carried on, treading the halls with care, at least two of them more than a little wary of the signs of heavy security that were positioned all around. A few moments passed in silence and then Beau spoke up.

“Do you think they, ah, found us a new headquarters?”

Kenzie studied him with a critical eye. “Who knows? So where’s the bodysuit, my friend? I much prefer the bodysuit. Makes things . . . easy on the eye.”

“They prefer I dress normal in the five-starred building.”

“I bet they do.” Kenzie laughed and even Mai smiled.

Dahl followed Beau’s thread. “I hope they have. This constant security tires me.”

“You guys do have a bad track record for HQs,” Kenzie pointed out, having been apprised of most of the SPEAR team’s history by now.

“Point taken. But the new Secretary of Defense may well move us out of here.”

Mai looked back. “See anyone else arrive?”

“Ah, no, sorry. They may already be here.”

“They?”

Dahl grimaced. “I thought you meant Drake and—”

“There are ten people on our team.” Mai threw Kenzie an appraising glance. “Well, nine for sure.”

Dahl stayed silent, regretting his lapse. Seemed like no matter what he did he constantly upset the opposite sex these days.

“So, Mai, you’re staying for good this time then?” Kenzie loved the conflict.

“I might be persuaded to take a week’s leave just to drop you off where you belong.”

“Really? And where do you think I belong?”

“Some kinda hellhole. Atoning for all those you’ve directly or indirectly caused harm.”

“And I guess you never hurt anyone, eh?”

Mai gritted her teeth. Dahl could hear the grind. “Be careful, Kenzie,” the Japanese woman hissed.

“Oh, my. Did I say something wrong?”

A guard they recognized stood up ahead. Dahl engaged him in a little chit-chat as the others stood in a twitchy silence. It occurred to him again that maybe they should get rid of Kenzie as soon as possible, the thief appeared to present no more than a wart on the skin that held the team together.

Best not to explain it that way though.

The door to their office stood open just ahead, inviting, welcoming, but through the gap Dahl could see nothing—only a deep patch of darkness. Shrugging off his own worries he wondered what might await them within.

Nevertheless, he walked straight through.

CHAPTER FIVE

Hayden and Kinimaka had been sat alone, awaiting the team’s arrival since around 5:30 p.m. They kept the office dark and quiet, equipment switched off or dimmed down low, so they could sit side-by-side on a desk and talk.

Hayden swung her legs back and forth. “I’m trying to be totally honest here, Mano. We’re not unsteady. We’re not facing obstacles. We’re fucking fucked.”

The Hawaiian looked morose. “Because I didn’t want you to torture a guy?”

“That was weeks ago. And he deserved it. But it’s not that. It’s deeper.” Hayden couldn’t bring herself to fully explain the problem—it involved her view that Kinimaka hadn’t been man enough to take things all the way—and not just on that occasion—and how that demeaned him in her eyes. The same thing had happened with Ben Blake.
Shit,
she thought.
Poor Ben. I hope you’re happy, my friend, wherever you are.

“I love you,” Mano said simply, maybe a bit desperately. “I worry about you. All the time.”

Hayden felt faraway. “Did you ever consider our future? I mean—look at our lives. Do you think there’s a beautiful wedding day for us? A Hawaiian honeymoon? Do you think we’ll end up at Disneyland with our kids?”

Kinimaka’s face went a little soft. “Why not?”

Hayden now saw the gulf that stretched between them. “We won’t change.”

“Everything changes.”

“Then change it now. All of it. You. The whole SPEAR team. No one’s irreplaceable. Let’s disband and go private.”

Kinimaka breathed deeply in surprise. “You want to disband?”

“I put my career first, no matter what,” she said. “And I need strong people by my side to lean on.”

“This team works,” Kinimaka said. “You know it does.”

“Then it would work anywhere.”

“Wait.” Kinimaka held up a hand. “Just wait. I thought we were talking about us.”

Hayden swung her legs faster. “Shit, Mano, we are. I’m full-on, remember? You’re cautious.”

“Out of the two of us, who’s been shot the most?”

“Oh, hold my ribs before they crack from laughing.”

The Hawaiian stopped all movement as the desk gave an alarming creak beneath him. Hayden felt a lightening in her chest; his clumsiness and fear of it had always been one of his most endearing features to her. He spoke whilst staring at the floor.

“If you love me, don’t let go.”

“There’s more to it than—”

“No. It doesn’t matter whether it’s between adults or if it’s your kids. There are always tough moments, moments you want to take flight. But don’t. Fight it. Don’t run away from those you love.”

Hayden hadn’t expected that from Mano. Despite her mind, which was already made up, she took pause. She held back the words that hovered on the tip of her tongue and took a long breath.

“Do you have any suggestions?” she said instead. Lame but workable.

“Shit, no.” Mano laughed.

Hayden saw shadows crossing the doorway and the unmistakable figure of Torsten Dahl passing through. It was time to put the game face on. Time to go to work. She wondered for a further moment if she should go easier on Mano and propose they simply take a break, but then remembered his words and their long history and the way he’d once made her feel.

Another chance. We’re worth that.

Kinimaka jumped down from the desk, almost toppling her as the enormous weight shifted. Dahl smiled at the unintended antics.

“You two,” he said. “You’re a fine comedy couple.”

Hayden didn’t smile at all. That was what she was afraid of.

CHAPTER SIX

Drake winced a little when he realized Alicia and he were about to enter the office last. That sent every pair of eyes twitching in their direction, and wasn’t helped when, as he opened his mouth to say hi, Alicia nipped him painfully on the ass.

The greeting squeaked out in a strangled cry.

Mai’s face was unreadable; Beau’s an illustration in resigned acceptance. Dahl looked over as tolerantly as he might indulge his children.

“You made it then.”

“Good to see you, Matt,” Hayden said.

“Big session was it?” Kenzie slipped in, upsetting four people at once, not quite a record for her.

Drake addressed the greetings in turn. “Dahl. Any more vacation plans we need to clear our schedule for? Hayden, ’ow do? Kenzie, go fuck a doorknob. And why the hell are you still here?” He smiled at the almost unnoticed Yorgi, sat in a corner.