Always Been Mine (9 page)

Beatrice took a sip of her coffee. “I’m saying I don’t think they were fans at all, but someone hired them to mess with me using my relationship with Eric as a cover. Now they’re dead, so they couldn’t snitch. With the news of Eric’s death, those women who attacked me must have freaked out.”

“You’re probably reading too much into the news, babe. It’s—”

Beatrice lost her temper. “Don’t tell me it’s a fucking coincidence because you know in our line of work there is no such thing as coincidences. Believing so will only get you killed. What are you hiding, Gabe?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Beatrice snorted. “Really? You get that same look my father does whenever he’s trying to throw some misdirection my way. It’s pathetic.”

“I really don’t know.” Gabe repeated, and the frustration on his face told her he knew something was up, but he didn’t know what, so she decided to throw him a bone.

“My father never shares any information with me,” Beatrice said. “He likes keeping me in the dark because he thinks he’s protecting me. But you can relay this message to him. In case he doesn’t know who my recent client is, it’s Senator Alex Mendoza. The biggest threat to his security right now is his trip to Colombia. I’m still trying to figure out why.” Beatrice tapped a finger on the gang war article. “The news says it’s a Colombian gang who may have killed these five people. No one is sure because no one is talking. I’m going to dig—”

“Leave it alone, poppy,” Gabe growled.
 

“It’s my job, Gabe,” Beatrice replied coolly. “As the senator’s security consultant, I’m supposed to assess high level threats.”

“Why can’t the security company you hire do this for you?”

“Again. It’s my job and it appears to be personal. I want to know why.”

Gabe raked his fingers through his hair. “What were you planning to do?”

Beatrice eyed him warily. He stepped forward and planted himself squarely in front of her.
 

“Try keeping it from me,” he threatened softly. “You’ll find yourself shackled to the bed. I’m sticking to you like white on rice, so it’s best now to tell me your plans.”

Beatrice glared at him, but he only stared her down. The muscle tic in his jaw told her just how dead serious he was with his words.
 

Shackled to the bed by Gabriel Sullivan doesn’t seem so bad
, a sultry voice gushed in her head.
 

“Shut up,” Beatrice whispered.

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry, voice in my head,” she muttered. “I have a meeting with Senator Mendoza at ten. I’m planning to ask him some specifics about his agenda for Colombia. Then I’m heading to the Cloverleaf District to find out more about the killings or executions or whatever the hell it was.”

“Like hell, Beatrice! Are you nuts?” Gabe said incredulously. “You can be sure I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

Beatrice grinned slyly. “That’s what I’m counting on, sport. I trust you to have my back.”

The look he cast her was a mixture of surprise, pleasure, and annoyance.

Good. Nothing had changed.

*****

Gabe didn’t know whether he wanted to strangle Beatrice or fuck her. She was a damned handful. But taking his personal stake out of the equation, she was right. It was her job to investigate threats to a client. Well, it was his job to protect her. She’d just gotten herself a bodyguard whether she liked it or not.

He walked down the curb of the U.S. Capitol until a black sedan pulled up.
 

“I don’t have much time,” Gabe told the admiral as he got into the car. “Beatrice is in back to back meetings. One is with Alex Mendoza. How didn’t you know of her business with the senator?”

“I don’t keep tabs on my daughter all the time,” Porter said derisively. “The world is keeping me busy.”

Gabe snorted. “What do you have for me?”

“The woman in the picture is Luisa Delgado,” the admiral rattled off the other names of the victims. “She’s half-American, half-Colombian. She has a fresh tattoo on her back that tells me she had recently been initiated into the Fuego gang. Their attack on Beatrice must have been part of their hazing, or so they were led to believe.”

The two men exchanged grim looks. There was their link.

“Anything on Eric Stone’s cause of death?”

The admiral shook his head. “Not yet. I expect the results by the end of the day. I’m dealing with some red tape.”

“What?”
 

The admiral had carte blanche on mostly everything in the agency. Red tape wasn’t in his vocabulary.

“There’s something bigger at play here, Gabe,” the admiral said gravely. “What’s happening is merely the gravel in a landslide. I’m getting closer to the traitor inside the CIA responsible for everything, and he’s throwing wrenches at me in the system.”

“Spy games? What do you mean
everything
?”

“I could trace anomalies back to the specter agent program. There were big ethical issues that came about with the Berserker serum that was administered to agents and turned them into killing machines. The lead scientist who created BSK had disappeared. Soon after, Project Infinity was shut down, agents cut lose. Those who weren’t hunted down joined the Russian mob. Someone high up was involved. I started the op to infiltrate the Zorin Bratva, partly to draw the mastermind out, but he was too smart and stayed hidden.”

Gabe couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Was Admiral Porter saying there was someone wilier than he was inside the CIA?

“You better give me the CliffsNotes version, Admiral, I need to head back.”

“We’re playing cat and mouse with this guy. He’s still one step ahead. We’ve shut down the Zorin Bratva, his coffers are running dry. Thanks to your undercover work, we’ve determined it’s through the sale of cocaine into the homeland that allowed the drug traffickers to buy their guns.”

“He’s the guy allowing the shipment of cocaine into the U.S.?”

“The point is, Gabriel, I was expecting our guy to start shifting his attention to the conflicts in Ukraine and Iraq. That’s where more arms dealers would make money. With the Colombian government in talks to lessen, if not end the armed conflicts, he should have abandoned the country a year ago. Yet he continues to have a vested interest in Colombia. The question is why.”

“Where do we go from here?” Gabe looked as his watch.
 

“Right now, there are very few I trust inside the agency.” The admiral sighed. “I’ll have to depend on unconventional assets.”

“Who?”

“The enemy of your enemy is your friend,” the admiral said. “The Iron Skulls MC and Fuego gang are known mortal enemies. Even with the death of that Marko guy who caused all the trouble for us over five months ago, this had not eased tensions between the two organizations. They’re competing for market share in drugs, cocaine versus meth, both under the control of the Russian gang, which is controlled by the Russian mafia. Skulls are under protection of the Russian gang whenever they’re in the Cloverleaf District—a frequent artery for their operations.”

“Lesser evil?”

The admiral nodded. “I’ve spoken to their president. Nicholas Crane used to be in the U.S. Navy.”

“How can you be sure you can trust him? His MC is running drugs, Admiral.”

“I’m helping them get clear of the drugs. The town they’re protecting is booming. Once they become self-sufficient, they’ll cut their meth runs. They’ll have your back when you get into Cloverleaf District to do whatever Beatrice needs to get done. They’ll have their eyes on you, but won’t get involved unless the situation deteriorates. They don’t want to jeopardize their standing with the Russian gang.”

“Do you know if Beatrice is the target?” Gabe realized he was clenching his fists tight.
 

The admiral held out his smartphone to Gabe. “This was sent this morning to one of my email addresses.”

A picture of the admiral and Beatrice.

“That was taken yesterday at the Metropolitan Police Department. Someone is either trying to make me visible or making sure I know my daughter is not safe.”

Fury and helplessness rendered Gabe speechless. Beatrice was heading straight into the belly of the enemy. Nostrils flaring, he pushed through gritted teeth. “We have to tell her what’s going on.”

“Not yet.”

“Damn it, Admiral. Travis lost Caitlin because of Project Infinity. Are you willing to lose a daughter now, too?”

“Are you willing to tell her your part in the op that nearly got Caitlin killed? Are you willing to tell her what you’ve done for the Zorin Bratva, Gabe? That you’ve killed people in cold blood to become the most feared assassin in all the echelons of Russian organized crime? That you are the Angel of Death—Dmitry Yerzov?”

“If I have to. If that will keep her alive.”

“You’ve really chosen my daughter above everything else, haven’t you?” the admiral said softly. “Be careful what you tell her; do not compromise other ops or agents.”

“Goes without saying, Admiral,” Gabe said darkly. It angered him that the admiral would feel the need to tell him this. The sedan stopped a hundred feet away from the U.S. Capitol complex.

“Take care of her, Commander.”
 

*****

“I’m ready!” Beatrice chirped, stepping out of her bedroom. She insisted on changing her clothes before going sleuthing in Cloverleaf. Gabe agreed, because no way could she blend in the rough neighborhood wearing one of her designer suits, cashmere coat, and thousand-dollar shoes.

Right now, she was wearing jeans that hugged her slender form and black combat boots. She slipped on a ratty coat, her face scrubbed free of makeup and hair twined in a fat braid.
 

She looked incredibly young and beautiful.

“How do I look?”

“Like a female version of Oliver Twist,” Gabe teased.

He grunted when Beatrice jabbed an elbow in his gut as she passed him to pick up her messenger bag. She transferred some items from the purse she used earlier, and then she opened the middle drawer underneath her kitchen counter and took out a gun.

Gabe arched a brow. If he was finding her hot before, more so now. She never failed to surprise him.
 

“You seem to have scenarios like this down pat.”

“I told you, Gabe.” Beatrice tucked her gun in her bag. “It’s what I do. I’m not reckless. I would never go alone. Usually Nate goes with me, or one of the other BSI guys, but since you’re here, I don’t need to bother them.”

“Damn straight,” Gabe muttered.
 

“I’m assuming you’re doing this for free.” She eyed him teasingly.

Gabe stared at her lips. “I accept different forms of payment.”

He watched a blush steal up her cheeks. He didn’t regret the innuendo, and he wanted nothing more than to strip her naked and slide inside her instead of traipsing across town and probably getting shot.

“That better be a joke, Sullivan.” She was glaring at him, which only made him want to fuck her more. Her attitude was a definite turn on for him.
 

“Come on. Save your attitude for later.” His lips twitched in amusement. “I’ve a feeling you’ll need it.”

*****

“This is Luisa Delgado’s address,” Beatrice informed Gabe. They were in front of a ten-story building. The entrance consisted of a collapsed expandable metal gate that had seen better times and dusty aluminum-framed glass doors.
 

She was about to step inside when Gabe pulled her back. “Wait. Let me go in first. You have a bodyguard. Use me.”

Beatrice huffed in irritation. “Fine. Lead the way.”

Gabe speared her an irritated look. She wondered how long before he would strangle her. She’d been sniping at him all the way from DC to Cloverleaf, and except for the tightening of his fingers on the steering wheel—probably imagining her neck—he’d been amiable.
 

They used the stairs since the elevator wasn’t working. Walls were covered with graffiti and the rickety steps were littered with garbage and people. Most of them were junkies—stoned, filthy, and most likely homeless. Beatrice thought she did a good job of blending in with a skull cap over her head, but Gabe was a big guy, and everyone who wasn’t drugged out eyed him warily. She noticed a boy of about ten run out of the building.
 

The little snitch.

“We don’t have much time,” Beatrice said. “I think we’re about to have company soon.”

“I know,” Gabe muttered.

When they reached apartment 405, Gabe rapped on the door. They heard shuffling in the room.

“What do you want?” A voice asked from inside.

“Luisa owes me money—” Beatrice started to say.

“She’s not here. Go away.”

“I’m not leaving until I get my money,” Beatrice fired back. She threw Gabe a dirty look, warning him to wipe the smirk off his face. Didn’t he know how to do undercover work? Jeez.

The door cracked open. A woman peered through the small opening. “You will get us killed. We have nowhere else to go. Go away.”

 
A rush of footsteps pounded up the stairs. The door was slammed shut. Gabe tensed beside her.
 

“Now that was productive,” Beatrice grumbled, trying to make light of the situation, but her heart thudded against her chest with anxiety.

“Babe, I think things are about to get interesting,” Gabe said grimly.

Sure enough, three Latino guys armed with metal pipes and guns appeared in the hallway.
 

Shit.

CHAPTER SIX

“Let me do the talking.”

Beatrice whispered to Gabe as she stepped in front of him. He cursed softly beside her. She was certain he was ready to throw her over his shoulder and run away with her.
 

“Lost?” the Latino man with the nose ring sneered.

“Not at all,” Beatrice said with false bravado. “I’m looking for Luisa. You know where she is? Bitch told me this was her address.” She mentally begged forgiveness for speaking ill of the dead.
 

“Haven’t you read the news? She’s dead.”

Beatrice feigned shock. “No! Damn it. Well, hell, how can I get back my three hundred dollars?”