Chapter 10

TEN

Declan’s ears roared with his pulse, seeing the recognition in Hagar’s eyes when he’d spotted Meg through the few inches of open door. How could he have known it was her? He couldn’t have seen enough of her face to make her.

And here she was, eyes wide, body trembling, breathing in gulps.

He wanted to punch the wall. Punch Hagar. Instead, he kept a steadying grip on her shoulders. “I’ll handle him once we retrieve what we came for. Just breathe, Meg.”

She did, keeping her focus on him. In and out, he breathed with her.

Determination hardened her pretty eyes. She still leaned against the wall, trembling, but said, “He’s mine.”

He knew what she meant, even though he didn’t like it. She wasn’t a vigilante, and while she had the skills to take out any terrorist or criminal if necessary, this act would be far too personal for her ever to come back from.

She stiffened. “Listen.” She pointed back toward the lobby. Hagar’s men were shouting for the crowd to disperse. A smattering of gunfire went off, and people started screaming. “What are they doing?”

What, indeed. Why hadn’t Hagar sent his goons after Meg?

Going against all his instincts, Declan released her and stole around the corner toward the double doors. They were still open a crack, and he watched the crowd scrambling out the gaping hole in the front. Only Hagar and his men remained.

Except for a familiar face—Shredder Man.

“We’ve been looking for you, Mr. Anderson,” Hagar said, dark, merciless eyes locking on the guy as another of his squad shoved the assistant forward.

Anderson stumbled and fell to his knees before raising his hands in surrender. His slacks and shirt were torn and bloody now. His hair was matted with sweat and dirt. “I told you, I don’t know where he is. He’s not here. You’re wasting your time.”

Meg sidled up next to him, and Declan was torn. Should he force her to leave, take the tunnel and escape, or keep listening?

She scrunched her brows as Hagar continued speaking. “Where is the thumb drive you promised me?”

The assistant was smart enough not to look the madman in the eyes. He kept his attention glued to the ground. “I don’t know. He must have taken it. I’ve checked everywhere, and it’s gone.”

“Who’s he?” Meg whispered. “The chief?”

“That’s unfortunate for you.” The terrorist paced around the man in an ever-tightening circle, his combat boots smashing the debris on the tiles. He stuck his hands in the pockets of his jacket, pretending to be deep in thought. “We had a deal, and you have not held up your end.”

“I can’t hand over something I don’t have,” Anderson said. “He shouldn’t have had access to the safe, but somehow, he managed to break into it and steal your information.”

Hagar’s circle grew smaller, one boot smacking the back of Anderson’s shoe as he passed. “Why do I not believe you?”

Anderson’s shoulders slumped. “It’s the truth. Your man already checked me over. I don’t have the drive, and I’ve searched everywhere. He didn’t hide it here.”

Hagar stopped before him, leaning over to put his face in front of Anderson’s. “Surely, the information is still on his computer. You can access that, yes?”

Anderson started to reply, then stopped himself, as if thinking it over. “Maybe. If I can get his password…”

Declan’s internal bullshit meter went haywire. Anderson was playing with fire… Whoever put the information on that USB did it for a reason, and most likely, to get it off a work computer. Or it had never been there to begin with.

Why did Hagar want it?

Whatever the reason, Anderson was buying time, and Declan had to respect the man for it. Unfortunately, he feared Marchetti’s assistant was almost out of time.

And if Declan was reading the look in Meg’s eyes, she thought the same.

“We need a distraction,” she whispered. “We have to save him.”

Hagar gestured at his lieutenant, who grabbed the man by the shoulder and jerked him to his feet. “Where is his office?”

Anderson stumbled slightly. “Second floor. “

The terrorist leader made a sweeping gesture with his hand. “Take me there.”

They started walking directly toward Declan and Meg.

She grabbed Dec and hustled him toward the nearest door, labeled as a meeting room. He took her arm and dragged her toward the stairwell instead. “He made us—you. We have to get out of here.”

She protested, but he tightened his hold, forcing her to keep up.

“The supply closet,” she hissed.

That was lengths of hallways and corridors away. This place was a maze. “No time.”

He hit the bar on the fire door, shoving it open and flinging her onto the landing. “Up,” he ordered as he forced the door shut behind them.

Before it clicked shut, he heard them enter the hall. As anticipated, they opened every door along the way.

Meg was already climbing, taking the steps two at a time.

He barreled after her, then passed her. She couldn’t keep up with his strides, twice as long as hers. Reaching back, he offered her a hand, and she took it, but even when he tugged her along, it wasn’t fast enough.

The door below opened. Declan hefted her over his shoulder and raced as quietly as he could up the next flight.

Below, men filed into the landing and started the climb.

He froze, but only for an instant. There were four of Hagar’s men, Anderson, and Hagar himself. The amount of shuffling, talking, and general clamor they made was enough to drown out his footsteps.

So he ran.

Bypassing the second-floor entrance.

Up to the third-floor landing.

Controlling his breathing, he kept going.

Pounding feet echoed on the stairs beneath them, then stopped. Hagar barked an order in Farsi. Search for stragglers .

One of the group broke away.

And started up as Hagar and the rest entered the second floor.

Meg smacked him on the shoulder to put her down.

At war with himself, he allowed her body to slide down his chest until her feet touched the concrete floor of the small, square landing.

But he didn’t let go.

As the death squad member whistled and jogged up the next set of steps, Declan grabbed his gun from Meg’s waistband. Meg brought up her handheld ultrasonic weapon.

They moved as one into the shadows in the tight corner, each ready to take out their pursuer should he discover them.

A cell phone went off, ringing loud in the cavernous space. The man stopped and answered. He must have lowered himself to one of the steps because they heard the clatter of his weapon as it caught on the railing. He rattled off a conversation in his native language, and Declan pulled Meg from their hiding spot. He motioned her to continue up as he covered her backside, his gun pointed toward Hagar’s man.

When they hit the next floor, she eased open the fire door, and they slipped inside.

This level was private quarters. None of the residents who called the place home, however, were here.

Meg stopped him before he could lead her away from the door. “We have to stop this,” she said, her voice barely audible.

The hallway here was intact and homey-looking, like an old-fashioned hotel. Fancy fixtures, ornate antiques, and expensive paintings lined the space. It was as if the carnage below hadn’t affected it at all.

Declan rubbed his temples. “This Anderson guy is an idiot and working with Hagar. Wonder who the man is that he said stole the USB? Tommy? Whose office is he taking Hagar to? His?”

“We should follow and find out. Hagar didn’t make us. He saw me peeking at him and realized there were state employees on the loose, that’s all. That’s why he sent his man after stragglers.”

“You understood that?”

“Yes.”

Chasing after Hagar and Anderson would be stupid but might yield the answers they needed. Still… “Our orders are to evacuate.”

“That was before we knew about our mystery man taking the USB and the fact that the intel might still be on his computer.”

“We should report in and let Flynn decide what he wants us to do.”

“We should.” She gave him an evil grin. “But all I’m getting is static, which means we’re on our own.”

The unspoken words— it’s my call —hung in the air between them. She was the team leader. He was her second. His role was set in stone.

And his earlier admission? He would pay for that at some point. Maybe now. “Are you asking me to disobey a direct order, not only from our boss but from the Deputy Director of the CIA?”

“Stone gave you the order to protect me at all costs?”

Michael Stone walked on water in Declan’s book. He would go to hell and back for the man. “The one and only.”

“Following me back down to the second floor and helping me figure out what happened to the USB isn’t defying him, though. You’d actually be following his orders, wouldn’t you?”

“You’re asking me to walk a fine line. We both know that pursuing the USB will put you in imminent danger.”

“I’m a black swan. Every mission puts me in imminent danger.”

That truth couldn’t be disputed. Nor could the fact that every mission went sideways, no matter how well-prepped they were.

Flynn had thrown them into this disaster without any warning. While he trusted them to figure things out on the fly to solve their own troublesome situations, ordering them to bail seemed like a copout. Was he trying to cover his ass, which was caught in a sling between the president—who’d demanded he activate their tiny, damaged division—and a no-win situation?

Declan gravitated to no-win situations. They made his pulse quicken and his blood heat.

Meg was one of them. A no-win relationship that he was bound and determined to turn around.

Win-win.

That was his goal.

At that moment, the director’s voice startled them both. “What are you still doing there?” Flynn demanded through their comms. “The Romanian police have called in their SWAT team. Do not get caught. Evacuate now!”

Meg lifted her brows a fraction in question. Declan sighed and gave a nod. “I follow you,” he said softly.

Meg’s grin broadened. She made some static noises in her throat, totally unbelievable. “Sorry, you’re breaking up, sir. What was”—more fake static—“…can’t…hear…” Static. “…you…”

She removed the earbud, sliding it into her pocket.

Everything in his past came down to this moment. Was he really about to throw it all away? Because sure as shit, if he did this, he would never work for the CIA again. He’d be blacklisted. Hell, he’d probably end up in a black site prison, and no one would ever hear from him again.

The thrill of it charged the blood in his veins. That, and the open invitation on Meg’s face. Follow me into hell .

Stone would have to move over.

He removed his comm, hearing the distant sound of Flynn’s voice yelling at them, and turned it off. “If you want my help, let me take the lead,” he challenged.

Her grin faded. “Blackmail? Seriously?”

“Seriously, sunshine .” He tweaked the end of her nose again, which he knew she hated as much as Spence’s too-cheerful British slang. “Do we have a deal?”

If steam could’ve come out of her ears, it would have. Her lips pressed into an irritated, straight line, and she stepped away from the door, hands on her hips again. “Fine. What’s our next move, oh great and wise Declan Reid?”