Cold Pursuit (Cold Justice) (Volume 2) (36 page)

His priority had been creating an act of war without killing the US President.

Ironically, he’d almost failed.

Pilah Rasheed had almost gotten to the guy, probably would have clipped him if not for the FBI agent who’d been getting in their way from the start of this op. The bullet probably wouldn’t kill the guy, but it might come close.

Pilah’s death bothered him. Why, when she’d killed so many innocents, he didn’t know. He looked at the picture he’d kept on his cell phone. Two little girls with a female mercenary he’d hired to get them out of Sargon’s clutches. They didn’t know she was a trained soldier. He could tell by the way they held her hand that the girls liked her.

He hadn’t decided what would happen to them yet. At first he’d been going to send them to a refugee camp, but life there would be harsh and cruel. He stared at the screen, a weird understanding flowing over him that he really was retiring. He was tired—no longer the “tip of the spear.” It was over. He was done with death and duty, no matter how great his country’s need, he could not kill anyone else out of political necessity. He touched the little gap-toothed smile and then deleted the image. He knew what he was going to do when he got home. He knew what his next mission would be.

The girls would have a home. They’d be safe. He’d be keeping his promise to the dead mother and moving on to a new life. The plane taxied along the runway, continued to accelerate. Within seconds they were airborne, his head pressed back against the leather seat.

He closed his eyes and prayed for forgiveness. The image of the little redheaded boy floated through his mind and he sighed. Maybe his God had already forgiven him. Saving the boy meant Elan could live with what he’d done. And he didn’t think that would be true if he’d put a bullet in Michael Vincent as originally ordered.

***

Ted Burger, the Vice President of the United States of America, stared out the windows of his Kentucky home and smiled. It had all worked perfectly. His telephone rang, but he didn’t want to talk to anyone just now. He stood and rifled for the burner cell in his pocket. He pulled out the SIM card and threw it on the fire. Tossed the battery in the wastebasket and the phone casing into the flames after the card.

There was nothing left to link him to the terrorist attack or the staged attempt on the president’s life. He allowed himself a quiet chuckle. Hague was a trusting fool. If things had gone wrong and the president had actually died, Ted wouldn’t have shed too many tears. He hadn’t gone into politics to be second best. And without his wealthy backers, Hague would never have won the election in the first place. But this plan had worked—consolidating Ted’s position of power, bolstering his strong support both from and for the State of Israel.

Hague was a fool with his pacifistic ways. But most fools could be manipulated as long as you were tough enough to hold your nerve.

There was a knock on the door.

“Come in.”

A maid he didn’t recognize pushed in a cart holding coffee and cake.
That time already
? She was a pretty thing. She smiled at him, and he wondered why he hadn’t seen her before. He would definitely have noticed.

“Would you like me to pour for you, Mr. Vice President?”

“Sure.” He took a wingback chair beside the fire. The smell of burnt plastic permeated the air, but the woman didn’t comment. “Where’s Nancy?”

Nancy had been with him for years and wasn’t so pleasant to look at.

“She came down with the stomach flu.”

Ted grunted. Last thing he wanted was stomach flu. “Have the staff disinfect the place before we all catch it.”

“Yes, sir.”

She carried his coffee across to him. Held his gaze. “Cream, no sugar.” She put it on the table beside him. God, she was pretty. Gray eyes and blond hair. Trim figure with long, elegant fingers.

“Thank you. I didn’t catch your name?” He watched her ass flex under her uniform as she walked back to the cart.

“Rachel, sir. Would you like some cake? Carrot or chocolate?”

“Carrot cake. Please.” He picked up his cup and took a sip. Wondered if he dare make a pass at this female. His wife was away visiting her mother and the rest of the family wasn’t yet home for the holidays. He sipped more of his coffee and watched her move. Cutting him a large piece of cake and putting it onto a dainty, porcelain plate. Probably best to bide his time. She might be a gold-digger or a trouble-maker. Best to check her out before he dipped his wick. “How long have you worked here, Rachel?”

“Oh, not long at all, sir.”

“Call me Ted.”

A wide smile broke out across her features, and she walked over and put the cake next to him on the table.

He drank more coffee, realized he was feeling sleepy. Big day today. He hadn’t slept much over the past week.

“Are you OK, Ted?” The maid squatted by his feet.

A sweat broke out on his brow. His hands shook, and she took the cup from his fingers and placed it on the side table.

“Perhaps I’ve already got the damned flu.” His words slurred. His eyelids got heavier. “Better call the doctor.”

She placed her hand on his forehead. “Oh, I think you just need to rest for a little while, Ted.”

Audacious chit. But his eyes closed despite his best efforts.

“This is what happens when you start meddling in things you shouldn’t, Ted, compliments of The Gateway Project.”

The Gateway Project
? That was over, finished! Scattered like roaches under a Mexican sun. He’d shut it down himself. Unless… His heart raced. The muscles pounding so hard and fast you’d think he was running. Someone wasn’t finished. Someone was still taking vigilante justice.
Against him
… A screaming pain tore through his chest, and his eyes flew open as he clutched at his collar. “Doctor. Get a doctor…” He lunged up out of the chair. The maid sidestepped and he crashed to the floor on the Persian carpet. Rolling onto his back as his breath grew hoarse and thin. His hands clawed the rug. His veins stretched painfully inside him as his blood boiled. “Help. Please help.”

Cool, gray eyes assessed him. “Be grateful it was poison and not a bullet, Mr. Vice President. All those people dead just so you could stir up another war.”

Not cause a war—protect his people
, he wanted to argue. But his tongue wouldn’t work. The pain in his chest so intense it was as if his heart was being physically ripped from his chest.

“Sleep now,” the woman said calmly. She squeezed his hand, comforting. This lovely assassin with carrot cake and coffee. The last thing he saw was her gray eyes and pretty face. An angel, a beautiful, deadly angel.

***

Jed woke slowly, through a mist of fatigue and confusion. But one thing was clear in his mind. “Vivi.”

He sensed movement around the bed, indistinguishable as he squinted against the bright light. When his vision finally cleared there was the dark-haired version of the woman he loved. Nothing like a shooter to clarify those emotions.

“Are you OK?” he asked.

She nodded. Jed grabbed her arm as she leaned over him. He didn’t give her time to think, he just held her head between his hands and kissed her on the lips with everything he felt for her poured into that connection. She remained stiff for just a moment and still he held her, refusing to stop until she finally kissed him back.

“Looks like the FBI finally managed to get something right.”

Jed recognized that voice.
Killion
.

“That’s not the FBI, that’s Brennan genes.” His brother, Liam.

He pulled back from Vivi even though he didn’t want to. He was on enough morphine he was feeling no pain. “I guess we have too much of an audience to take this further?” He winked as she shook her head, exasperated.

Someone coughed. “So much for you taking a break.” Shit, his boss, Frazer. Great.

“He did throw himself in front of the president.” Vivi defended him.

He grimaced. “I threw myself in front of you and Michael, Vivi. The president is just lucky he was in my trajectory.”

“Don’t tell him that,” Frazer raised a brow and came over to the bed. “I think you’re getting a raise, and the chances of me being able to fire you are down to zero.” His grin subsided, but the light in his eyes told Jed how worried he’d been.

“I take it I’m going to live?” asked Jed.

They all nodded.

“Until I kick your ass for leaving when you did,” Liam muttered darkly.

Jed ignored him. “Lose any vital organs?” His back hurt. Jeez.

“One bullet stuck in your back ribs. The other one passed through your right lung but managed to miss all major organs.”

“So your dick’s safe.” Killion sent Vivi an apologetic grin.

Jed tried to sit up, and they all virtually launched themselves at him. The pain was staggering, but he was more humbled by the fact they cared. Vivi handed him the controls and he raised the bed.

“Is the threat over?”

Frazer pulled out his cell phone and showed him a picture of two little girls. “We believe Pilah Rasheed was pressured into acting by the threat to the well-being of her children.”

Crap. She’d been trying to save her children but willing to sacrifice other people’s?

“So
this
was always the endgame. Not the attack on the mall itself, but the hit on the president,” said Jed.

“Because the president usually comes to visit the victims of a major incident in the hospital.” Frazer agreed.

Vivi sat on the bed beside Jed and he held her hand. She wore a black t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Running shoes were on her feet. The terror he’d felt at the thought of losing her had cleared his mind about all sorts of things, and he now knew exactly what he wanted. Her. Them.

“But they failed. The president is still alive,” Liam said.

Frazer and Killion exchanged a glance with him. Because maybe the perpetrators hadn’t failed. The country was now on high alert and feeling pretty damn hostile toward the Arab nations. Maybe they’d gotten exactly what they wanted.

“I don’t get it. Who had the most to gain if Hague was killed?” Liam asked. “Not Syria. The US would drop a bomb on Damascus if we thought they’d assassinated our president. Iran, too, for that matter.”

The elephant in the room started trumpeting.

“One country has been calling for the West to show more aggression toward Syria and other Arab nations,” Vivi said quietly.

Frazer’s phone rang and he took the call.

“One that is surrounded by those who have vowed its annihilation.” Liam was watching them all closely.

“And who takes over if anything happens to President Hague?” said Vivi.

The vice president was Jewish and a much more vocal denouncer of Syria, Iran, and its ilk. If the Israelis could get him into power they’d be much more secure in any military action they used in the region. Plus, they might incite a war if the US believed it was Syria itself who’d attacked the US, meaning Israel could sit back and watch its enemies be destroyed. Without lifting a finger.

“We need to shut this conversation down.” Frazer cut off his phone call abruptly. “Vice President Burger was just found dead in his home. Looks like a heart attack, but the ME is going to conduct an autopsy ASAP.” They all exchanged disbelieving glances. “I need to go. I have a briefing with the president.”

Jed’s pain meds were wearing off and he was anxious to talk to Vivi alone before he needed a fresh dose, which would probably send him right back to sleep.

“Did you catch the man who attacked us in the cottage?” Vivi asked his boss.

Frazer shook his head. “DNA and fingerprints are not in any system we can tap. We did pick up an officer in the local police force who was feeding the terrorists information. Now that Sargon is dead it’s going to be harder to figure out his motives and who really hired him.” Frazer gathered his coat and sent Jed a smile. “Glad to see you alive, Brennan. Take a few weeks off. For real this time.”

Jed looked at his prostate form. He might not have much choice. “I might take you up on that.”

The men all left and Vivi hovered, looking as if she didn’t know whether or not she should leave him.

He held out his hand and she slowly reached out to him. “Where’s Michael?”

“Your mom and dad took him to the hotel to change. Then they are coming back here to see you again.”

He pulled her to him. “I messed up, Vivi. Sending you away, I thought you’d be safer. But I messed up. I’m sorry.”

Her serious blue eyes filled with something that looked a lot like love.

“Did you mean what you said on the phone?” he asked. It seemed like a hundred days ago now.

She turned away, head bowed. “I know I said it too fast. It was crazy, but I just wanted to be brave enough to say it out loud—”

“Did you mean it?”

She laughed and blinked rapidly. “I never meant anything as much as I meant that.”

“I meant what I said back there after I was shot, Vivi. I found my family. I never even knew I wanted one until I found you and Michael. I love you. I love him. I know I was slow in saying it back to you on the phone, but you shocked me. I never expected you to trust me after all I put you through. After I failed you so badly. You humbled me and made me stupid.” He pulled her down so her forehead rested against his. “You think they’ll find a spot for me in the Fargo field office?”

“You can’t leave your job for us, Jed—”

“My current job doesn’t go great with family time.”

“You’re talking to a single mom and a fatherless boy.” Her eyes shone, half sadness, half rueful amusement. “Any time we spend with you will be a bonus, but trust me, we can cope on our own.” She pulled her lips into a wry smile. “I don’t want you to change your job. It’s important and you’re good at it.”

“I don’t know how you know that, considering—”

She placed her finger against his lips, which he liked even though it wasn’t her lips. Unfortunately he was really starting to hurt.

“Listen for a moment. I can work anywhere. So if you want to give this thing between us a go and see how we get on, me and Michael will come stay with you for a while. He’s starting to communicate.” Her eyes sparkled. “He typed out some words and he’s making sounds. I’m going to see if I can find some speech therapists who can help him.”