Shadow Pawn, page 16
Once inside her office, she closed the door and headed directly for the desk phone, the paper from Kaylee already out and in her hands.
Having no cell phone after becoming so reliant on one was more than an inconvenience. If Myles still worked for her, he would have already ordered her a new phone. But he didn’t work for her anymore, and she was about to find out why.
She punched in the number and listened to it ring.
“Hello?” When he answered, it was with confusion in his voice.
“Myles. It’s me.”
“Angela. Jesus Christ. Where have you been?”
“We’ll get to that in a minute. First tell me, what the hell happened while I was gone? Why are you no longer employed by me?”
“Lou didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what? He wasn’t there. I haven’t spoken to him.”
“He told me the board decided to cull everyone who worked directly with you. Even the receptionist got the boot because you hired her.”
“Why?”
“Angela, they were saying you basically jumped ship. Like a reverse defection. That you were selling corporate secrets to the Chinese. That’s why you disappeared. You were in hiding.”
“What? That’s insane. Everyone seriously thought that about me?”
“At work, internally, yeah. The company line was that we were to keep those suspicions on the down low. That the bad press would kill the company stock price. We weren’t even supposed to tell the authorities who questioned us because we were with you in China. I had to sign an NDA to get my severance package swearing I’d say nothing except that you disappeared, which I was happy to do since that’s all I knew. We saw you at the airport then nothing.”
“I was kidnapped. I got into a car at the airport and the next thing I knew there was a rag over my face. I blacked out and woke up locked in a hotel room.”
“Holy shit. Angela, that’s insane.”
“Tell me about it.”
“How did you get away?”
“Somebody hired a company who sent a guy to break me out. I assumed it was Lou or the board because this guy wasn’t cheap. I called my parents the moment I got home. It wasn’t them. And they never said anything about everyone thinking I was conspiring to sell secrets to foreign governments.”
“I told you. We were to keep that secret. The press just reported you hadn’t been seen.”
Now her computer and files being taken made sense. They thought she was a thief and a traitor… How could they believe that?
The project was her brainchild. She protected it like it was her actual baby. No one knew about what exactly was being developed except for those who had been critical in its development.
Not the board of directors. Not even Lou. He knew in general terms what the project had begun as, but no one, save for the lead scientist and her, knew what it had become. Her goal was to keep it that way. At least until they could come up with a way to insure it would be used for good—even with as impossible as that might be.
She blew out a breath. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“I never believed you did what they said you did. Neither did Pam, if that helps any.”
Who exactly was this they who’d come up with this conspiracy theory with her as the villain? “Who told you all this about me?”
“Lou. But he said he was speaking on behalf of the board. He told us he was on your side, but that his hands were tied. They were insisting he clean house and we had to go.”
“With an NDA and a nice severance package.”
“Not that nice. I would rather have my job back, to be honest.”
Scowling, she said, “You’ll get it back. Just as soon as I straighten this out.”
She had a feeling she was going to need a lawyer. A good one.
They couldn’t prove she was selling secrets. The problem was, could she prove she wasn’t?
She drew in a breath. “I’ll be in touch. Just trust me. I’ll fix this.”
“I know you will. I have complete faith in you.”
At least someone did. After this latest curveball she was starting to have doubts.
She hung up with Myles and dove into her computer, searching anything and everything written about her while she’d been gone. She needed to be armed with as much information as she could get about what information was out there about her.
After she didn’t know how long, she glanced up and realized her eyes were blurred from staring at the screen. She stood and her legs protested as she walked to the small half bathroom attached to her office.
Her head was starting to pound.
She flipped on the light and leaned against the sink while reaching for the door of the medicine cabinet.
A flash of silver caught her eye as she glanced at her reflection in the vanity mirror.
What the hell was that?
She leaned closer to the mirror and frowned at what she saw. Three gray hairs, all clustered together at her temple, standing out prominently from the rest of her black hair.
When she inspected her head more closely, she found two more on the other side of her head along the hairline by her ear.
Then a few more.
She’d already decided to let her hair go natural and not go back to her regular straightening routine. But this—this was something else entirely.
Was she prepared to start going gray? At forty?
After what she’d been through recently, what she was still going through, vanity seemed so far from the realm of her current reality she couldn’t comprehend starting to dye her hair because of a handful of silver hairs.
The struggle for survival had put lots of things into perspective.
Maybe she was ready to age gracefully.
Hell, maybe the old gray-haired men on the board of the company would take her more seriously if she showed a little silver. Something for them to relate to, instead of the alien female taking up a seat at their exclusive table.
If they didn’t have her locked up for espionage first, that was.
Jesus, were they so intimidated by her that they’d actually concocted this lie to get rid of her?
It was definitely time to call that lawyer.
She leaned away from the mirror, grabbed the bottle of ibuprofen from the cabinet and turned back toward the office.
She startled when she saw Lou standing there in the doorway, an odd expression on his face.
“Lou. What are you doing here?”
“You just couldn’t stay away for a little while longer, could you?” He sneered.
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about you ruining everything. And you stupid bitch. You sent your damn intern right to me so I knew exactly where to find you. You should have stayed put, Angela—in Shanghai, or on the island you ran to. Everything would have been fine. But no, you had to come home. Now the time for playing nice is over.” He spat the last word as he lunged forward, arm drawn back.
She saw flashes of light when his fist connected with her jaw and heard the sickening crack as her skull hit the marble sill in the doorway between the bathroom and her office.
Through it all, the only thing she could think was that Adam was right. She should have listened.
As another blow and then another rained down on her, she knew it was too late.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
What had Angela said? Grab some clothes before he came back tonight. Clothes as in for one night? Or more?
He didn’t know but he prepared for all contingencies.
Toothbrush. Underwear. Socks. Guns. Clips. Knives. And yes, more cell phones than any man should own, all except the newest burner, with the chips out and taped to the back so he could keep them straight.
He’d even gotten sneaky and powered up Charley’s phone while he was still in the apartment. Eventually he’d have to talk to her but for now she’d think he went back home, like a good little boy.
It was powered down and chip-less again as he drove to Angela’s house. He’d disabled it again right away, before Charley could call and yell at him for disobeying orders. Or ruin his good mood by telling him what he already suspected—that he wouldn’t be getting that big payoff for a job well done.
That was alright. She’d already given him a good chunk of change and he’d walked away with a bonus—Angela in his life.
And if this invitation to come back to her house tonight was any indication, she might be in his life to stay for a while.
He wouldn’t hate that. Not one little bit.
Smiling, he reached down and flipped on the radio, pushing buttons until he hit a station that matched his good mood.
It was a relief to have his own vehicle back. And extra good to have his emergency weapons riding shotgun, so to speak.
The drive from his place to hers was longer than he would have liked, but hell, that could change.
There was nothing keeping him in Virginia.
Not anymore.
He could move—and now he was getting ahead of himself. He needed to cool it and just enjoy the ride.
Things would get serious soon enough. He found himself looking forward to that part.
It was a new sensation. Looking forward to getting serious with a woman. Something he hadn’t let himself even think about when he’d been in the teams. But now that he was out… Maybe every dark cloud did have a silver lining.
His ridiculously uncharacteristic optimism lasted the whole drive and took him through the back door of Angela’s house, where he stopped to frown at the old alarm system still inside.
Rudnick had said he might not be able to get the new system installed today so he couldn’t be too peeved about it.
It didn’t matter all that much anyway. Angela was with the driver all day. And when Samuel dropped her off this evening, Adam would be waiting. He was plenty equipped to protect her.
He smiled as he remembered her comment about him being well-equipped last night as he pushed open the kitchen door—and froze.
Fern was on the floor, a cast iron frying pan and a pool of blood next to her head.
His gun was out before his brain even registered he’d drawn it. Muscle memory. Years and countless hours of training kicked in as he did a quick visual sweep of the room and then bent and pressed two fingers to her neck.
There was a pulse. But it was weak.
Whoever had done this could still be there. Thank God Angela was at work with Samuel—but wait. Where was his car?
Samuel had arrived in a tricked out black SUV that no doubt Rudnick had supplied to his guy. It had remained here while they drove in her car. But his SUV wasn’t in the driveway now.
He backtracked to the back door and outside, standing on tiptoe to peer through the small high windows and into the garage. Angela’s car was parked there.
She was home. Inside. With whoever had done that to Fern.
He ran back in, leaping over poor Fern’s unconscious form, and skidding to a stop just inside the kitchen door.
There he froze and listened.
Was that a man’s voice?
Just one though. He must be speaking on the phone.
Good. The more distracted he was, the better.
Adam moved across the living room, past the bottom of the stairs and pressed against the wall.
Shit. Was the baby upstairs?
He listened again. The sound of the man’s voice wasn’t coming from above. It was coming from behind the door just past the staircase.
Angela’s office.
He leaned closer and now he could make out words where before there was only a murmur.
“…this time I’m going to make sure she doesn’t get away.”
There was silence for a brief moment.
He continued, “I was so close to getting them to turn it all over to me and then she shows up. But nobody saw her. Just the new bimbo I hired for the front desk, but I can handle her… Well, yeah, I mean she has some old lady who lives with her, but we can take care of her too. I just need your help.”
Adam felt the eerie calm of the knowledge that he was going to kill this man. The shame of it was he could only kill him once.
“What, I’m not grateful enough for you? I’m going to hook you up with everything you want, and you want me to thank you for helping me do it? Okay, thank you so much for helping me. Jesus. I’m a COO, not a hitman.”
COO. Mother fucker. It was Angela’s second in command. Lou had done this.
Jesus. Whatever secret she kept from him about what her company was working on was worth killing her for.
“I mean, how the fuck am I supposed to know how to dispose of two bodies in the middle of Maryland? This is your thing. Not mine. So how about we all stick to what we’re good at? I’ll get you the project files. You get your guys over here and get rid of the bodies. Sound good?”
Every time he said the word bodies, Adam’s finger felt a little itchier on the trigger. One more time and he might not be able to control himself. But he needed too. He couldn’t let whoever was on the phone with Lou hear he’d been compromised.
In fact, best case scenario, they would send a clean-up crew. Then Adam could take care of them too, after convincing them to reveal who they were working for.
Bloodlust had him plotting Lou’s death. But behind that, and behind the training that kept his hand steady and his mind focused, was the knowledge that he had to get to Angela, wherever she was. And that it might be too late by the time he reached her.
Minutes could mean life or death, for both Angela and Fern. And yet, Lou the blowhard was still talking.
Adam slipped his newest burner phone—the one he’d used to set up the security with Rudnick—out of his pocket.
This situation might be larger than he could handle alone. Who knew how big a clean-up crew would show up?
No fucking way was he calling the cops. They would definitely not let him do what needed to be done. But a team guy—a DEVGRU guy—would. Jon Rudnick would.
He typed in a text. Short but to the point with just the bare minimum facts necessary to catch him up. Angela’s attacker was in the house. An unknown number were on the way. There were two innocents down. He was armed but alone.
The reply came back fast. Thank God the phone was on silent. The only alert that he’d gotten a text was the display lighting up with the words, Samuel is 10 minutes out.
Anything could happen in ten minutes. Fern could bleed out. Angela could— He forced that thought out of his head and waited until finally the narcissistic maniac ended the call.
He heard the goodbye, then he kicked in the door.
Angela was battered, bloody and unmoving on the floor.
Lou stood over her, a fireplace poker poised in one hand.
That was all Adam needed to see before he raised the gun, aimed right between Lou’s shock-filled eyes and pulled the trigger.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Angela woke to pain. Pain and something rock hard beneath her head, which didn’t help the ache.
She realized the brick wall she leaned against was moving. Rising and falling, fast but rhythmically. And swaying, rocking back and forth.
It was the rocking that was making her feel sick. Or maybe it was the blinding head pain doing that.
The fog clouding her thoughts began to lift and memories flooded back. Fast and frightening.
The terror returned. Lou. The hate in his eyes. The bloodlust as he came at her.
Was he still here?
She attempted opening her eyes, feeling almost blind as she peered through mere slits.
Something held her, restricting her movement. She tried to wrench herself out of the confines she felt binding her.
“Angela. Oh, thank God. It’s me. It’s Adam. I’m here. I’ve got you.”
The relief of his presence had tears streaming from her painfully swollen eyes.
Then reality crept into her jumbled thoughts.
Lou.
Adam had to know. She had to tell him. He was in danger. They both were.
“Lou. He—”
“I know. Don’t worry. He’s dead.” His tone was hard and matter of fact.
She drew in a stuttering breath and then felt the corresponding pain shoot through her ribcage as she recalled him kicking her after she was on the floor, curled in a ball trying to protect her head from him.
Jesus. How could he hate her so much? How could she not have known?
But he was dead. And she had no doubt it was Adam who had done it.
She felt no shame when she said, “Good.”
Her one regret was that she wouldn’t be able to ask Lou why. Why had he done this to her?
“Where are you hurt?” Adam’s voice sounded deeper than usual as he cradled her tightly against his chest. It seemed to make her head hurt more as it vibrated against her bruised cheek.
Where didn’t it hurt? Everywhere.
She felt his hands run over her, looking for injuries. She tried one more time to open her eyes.
This time she was able to focus. She saw Adam’s face, etched with concern as he leaned low over her.
Then his head whipped up at the sound of a noise from the hallway.
A lot more slowly, she craned her neck to look as Adam said, “Fuck!” and released his hold on her.
It took her too long to reason out that two men stood in the doorway—men with guns in their hands—and that Adam’s hands were empty, because of her.
She hit the floor as he dropped her. She managed to fall on her arm and protect her head.
From her prone position, she watched as Adam reached his right arm behind him. Her one clear panic-filled thought was that he’d never reach his gun in time before they shot him.
There was one loud bang. A second quickly followed. Both deafeningly loud sounds came from the doorway behind her as she still watched Adam, who was just bringing his arm around with the gun in his hand.
She watched in horror. Waiting for the concussion as the bullets struck him. Waiting for the bloom of blood to soak his white shirt.
