INTO DANGER (Secret Assassins (S.A.S.S.) Book 1) (14 page)

Admiral Madison was a decorated war hero, his loyalty to the country without question. “T, how do you know so much about STAR Force?” The idea of Stash being a dangerous man was strangely exciting. What else was hidden under those good looks?

Tess shrugged. “My job. My question is, why was he asked to transfer to replace another operative in TIARA? An operative who, I might add, died under suspicious circumstances? With that in mind, most importantly, can he take care of danger when he’s not in fatigues?” She cocked her head, an expectant look on her face. “Listen.”

Crash. Screams. Distinct sounds of gunfire. Training took over. Marlena strode over to grab the door handle. To her surprise, Tess beat her to it, planting herself firmly between her and the exit. She was still smiling, but her eyes were flat and cool.

“What are you up to, T?” Marlena asked through gritted teeth.

“Making a point.”

“What point? There weren’t supposed to be any incidents here. Did you start this?”

“Of course not. This is your job, entirely under your control. What’s happening outside must be someone else’s doing.” Tess leaned back against the door, still listening. “Sounds like someone is getting things back under control.”

“I still don’t understand.” Marlena frowned. “I know you have people out there to prevent any incidents. Again, what point are you trying to make?”

“Silly girl. You don’t think I didn’t leave some information to test him while we chatted, do you? I’m trying to see which side your sea mammal is on.”

***

S
teve stared after Tess’s departing back as she made her way through the crowd. She cut a striking figure, moving with the grace of someone who was in touch with her body. What was this woman’s relationship to Marlena? His mind raced through their conversation. Who was she, and how did she know about him?

He scanned the room for Marlena but couldn’t find her. He just didn’t believe she would be planning a hit here and now, not in that dress. Again, the memory of those strands of pearls under that outfit filled his mind. He cursed softly. Why couldn’t he forget about that and concentrate on what was happening?

He’d never had to deal with anything like this. In his old world, the enemy was the enemy. A target. No more. He’d never had to consider the flesh and blood behind the name, nor had he ever felt the need to make excuses for the other side. But then most of his encounters were with drug lords and terrorist groups, and he’d stared at some of them eyeball-to-eyeball and seen the cold ruthlessness of murderers.

He cursed again. They sure didn’t wear any strands of pearls or have a Tweety Bird tattoo for underwear. He took a deep breath. Concentrate. On. The. Information.

This isn’t the way you’d stop danger when you’re in one of your jungles
. All of a sudden, Tess’s provocative challenge flashed up in his mind like a marquee sign. The rules of the jungle were simple. Let the noise of nature recede, and listen. Be still and wait for movement. The smell of danger was distinctive; his commander had likened it to cigar smoke in a nunnery. Close the mind and use the senses. And above all, watch out for the most mundane, because that was usually where danger hid. Lastly, the target always stood apart.

Steve exhaled. Everything within himself became still as he rescanned the jungle of guests moving about. The room, with its shiny extravagance, receded into the background as he mentally looked for details that a soldier would. He ignored the laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the murmur of conversation, letting the sounds wash across him like white noise. The trees in the jungle hid the danger he sought. Where was the danger hiding among these guests?

Marlena was nowhere in sight. The groups of people moved in slow motion, growing apart and reforming, but what caught his attention was the very group Tess had pointed out to him. The one with du Scheum and some other guests. They never moved from their spot. Nor did anyone seem to go near them, as if they knew they weren’t invited into that circle of power. The small circle of men stood out, smoking cigars while discussing intently, barely paying attention to the laughter and music around them.

The target.

Steve slowly made his way within a few feet of the men. His gut instincts were humming like the brush of an electrical current generated by a live wire. Du Scheum, if he were really the man in white, had his back to him, but even from this angle, Steve saw the way the others leaned toward the man, paying attention to what he was saying.

With deliberate care Steve turned his head left, then right, studying the faces that seemed to be floating by. He’d done this hundreds of times, shutting out and listening at the same time. It was the exact feeling of swimming under water and trusting his heightened senses when the sound of the deep could overwhelm the careless swimmer. Sometimes a shark would swim too close, coming in from behind, out of sight, but his mental awareness would assess the situation. Not dangerous. Not yet.

And as he had countless other times, Steve turned around, trusting what his senses were telling him now, even though he couldn’t see or tell. He searched the faces for Marlena. Smiling women talking to each other. Someone calling out a name. One of the servants trying to balance a tray with too many glasses. A man standing alone by one of the aquariums.

Steve gave the man a once-over. He stood apart from the crowd. Then he took a step forward toward Steve. One of his hands reached into his trouser pocket.

Steve was about to pivot toward the oncoming man when something else caught his eye. Guests were laughing and trying to save the unbalanced server, who tried desperately not to lose his platter. The tray bobbled in one hand. The other hand holding a towel. It was as if his mind became a zoom lens, his entire attention focused on that one hand.

One hand holding a towel. The most mundane thing in the world. But when one tried to prevent something from falling over, one used
both
hands.

The man lost his fight with the tray, and glasses flew in all directions. The loud crash had guests shrieking. Laughing. Man falling over. And extending the hand with a towel....

There wasn’t much time. Steve launched into the air.

***

“L
et me out. Now.” Marlena held on to her temper. Barely. Stash was out there alone.

“He thinks you’re here to cancel someone, Marlena. Give him a few minutes to figure out you aren’t who he thinks you are, darling. He’s been sent by Admiral Madison into TIARA to do something. I want to see how good he is.”

“There’s a hit out there and you let it happen?”

“Don’t worry, du Scheum is too important for us to let anything happen to him.”

Marlena narrowed her eyes. She hated it when she was on the other side of the information scale. She wanted to force her way out of there. Images of Stash injured and in need of help flooded her mind. “Let me get this straight. You knew du Scheum was in danger tonight. Then you lured me in here and left him wide open.”

Tess smiled. “Your Stash is out there.”

“With no weapons. No backup.” Marlena didn’t try to lower her voice.

“He’s a SEAL.”

“And that’s supposed to guarantee du Scheum’s safety?” Marlena asked, incredulous about the whole thing. “T, this about tops everything I’ve ever seen you do.”

Tess shrugged, then reached out to brush at Marlena’s sleeve. “Hair,” she explained.

“T!” That was enough patience. Marlena had controlled her temper long enough.

“There are others out there to do their job if your honey fails, Marlena,” Tess told her, her voice soothing. She still stood in front of the doorway, unyielding. “You need to be in here. You know that. Even though this isn’t a planned incident, per se, let’s take advantage of it. With your reputation you always need a strong alibi. Besides, the more people seeing you in here with me, the better for your image. Just do your job.”

“Haven’t I always?” Marlena countered heatedly. “If he’s with the admiral, why must you play with him? He’s useless to us.”

Tess cocked her head. “I’m not so sure. That money in his account is troublesome, I must say. If he’s rogue, we can use him to lure whoever is trying to set you up at that apartment. You and I know it’s not our darling middleman du Scheum fitting in micro eyes all over that apartment. It’s not the buyer since you’re still in the bidding process. So...Stash could be working for the seller, hmm? But, and I’m saying this because I have the utmost confidence in Admiral Madison’s ability to cull men of honor, if Steve McMillan isn’t a rogue, then he could be in a lot of trouble.” She raised an eyebrow, eyes glinting with mockery. “Don’t you want to save him if his life’s in danger, M? We can’t trust him to be a good alibi yet, so that’s what I’m here for, darling. If things go wrong, and du Scheum happens to be injured out there, we want your reputation intact. Keep them guessing. Did you? Didn’t you? It enhances the enigma.”

Marlena hated being bested, especially by T. She wanted to childishly snarl out something rude, but she knew better. Manipulating people was T’s business, and she deemed it a victory if they reacted according to her bible. She was right. Marlena Maxwell had an image to uphold. Every situation to further her reputation, be it true or false, would attract more clients. And perhaps she would finally lure this anonymous seller to show his face. Above all, she did trust T. Slowly she allowed herself to relax.

“One day,” she said, “I hope someone will order you around and you’ll be his puppet. Then we’ll see whether you like being out of control.”

A faraway look entered Tess’s eyes. “Somebody already succeeded,” she said enigmatically. She blinked. “I’m ready to go out whenever you are.”

“I’m sorry,” Marlena apologized again. Damn it. Even when she tried to be nasty, she was outmaneuvered into backing away. She sighed. “You bring out the worst in me.”

Tess moved away from the door, no longer blocking it. “Darling, don’t insult me. I bring out the best in everyone.” She flashed Marlena a knowing smile. “Especially men. I’ll bet Stash handled the situation exactly the way I prepared him.”

That brought on a quick scowl. “He’s Steve to you,” Marlena said in a fierce voice.

Soft laughter echoed through the restroom. “Possessive, aren’t we?” Tess drawled.

Marlena observed quietly as Tess played with one of her rings, turning it a certain way. Turning off her own version of a bug sensor, she guessed. The woman had an arsenal right at her fingertips. Marlena wished she could play with every ring her friend owned. She watched with interest as Tess opened her purse and pulled out a small flat envelope.

“Is that what I need?” Marlena asked, knowing very well that she’d been deliberately led on again. Tess was right to want her to focus on her job.

“Yes, the instructions are inside, in case I’m not around later. I suppose you have a place to put it safely in that outfit?”

“Darling, you taught me the best hiding places.”

“In that case, I’ve taught you well.” The rest room door swung open and the outside agitation cascaded into the room. “Even with men.”

“You just leave Stash alone, or I’ll teach you a thing or two.”

Laughter. The door swung closed and both of them gave exclamations of shock and concern as the people outside told them what happened.

––––––––

S
teve felt isolated from the pandemonium around him. He’d been vaguely aware of people diving for cover at the sound of the gunshots, with those closest to the waiter crouching and yelling as confusion broke out. There was a breathless minute as everyone waited for a second gunman after Steve had downed the first one. Then the silence broke and there was a rush for the doors as people started to leave. A few women in hysterics were carried out. Some men carrying walkie-talkies had appeared out of nowhere. Security, probably.

Where was Marlena? Amid the screams and shouts, Steve shrugged off the hands that seemed to be everywhere. He didn’t need them touching him. Didn’t they know not to get too close to a soldier after a hit? Everyone was talking at once. His ears hurt from all that babble.

“Somebody call a doctor!”

A man’s authoritative voice rose above the melee. “Everything’s taken care of, my friends. Now, just move to the patio so there’s some breathing room for the gentleman. Please, everything’s fine. Security is here. No need to panic.”

Steve turned to the man in white, seeing his face for the first time. Lean to the point of gauntness, du Scheum had the intelligent face of a negotiator, flinty-eyed and inscrutable. Except for the telltale white ring around his lips, he appeared uncommonly calm for someone who had nearly been killed. As they stood there studying each other, Steve realized that the businessman was trying to place him.

“Thank you,” du Scheum said, “but I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“Steve McMillan.”

“Mr. McMillan. That was a very brave thing you did. I owe you my life.” Du Scheum nodded to some men standing close by, and Steve noticed them herding out the few curious guests who hadn’t panicked and run out of the ballroom.

One of the men with the walkie-talkies said politely, “Watch for broken glass, ladies and gentlemen. Please be careful as you make your way to the patio. Let us know if you need anything.” The small group left dispersed slowly, murmuring about the incident.

Du Scheum spoke quietly to a man close by. Steve recognized him as the one standing by the aquarium before all hell broke loose. “Make sure no one leaves. I want a headcount of every guest. Move the VIPs, the ones with diplomatic immunity, to the secured room so they won’t feel hassled by the police when they come.” The man nodded and slipped away. Du Scheum returned his attention to Steve, looking him over. “Are you injured, Mr. McMillan? There’s blood seeping through your collar.”

Steve reached up and then gazed down at his hand. It was blood. He didn’t think a bullet had struck him. He remembered sliding across the floor. “Must be a cut.” He shrugged. Adrenaline always dulled the pain. He would know soon enough whether he was hurt.