Chapter 14

fourteen

. . .

Bishop

Siren:

What are you doing right now?

Me:

Who wants to know?

Siren:

Cross.

Me:

Don't tease.

Siren:

I miss you. It feels like it's been forever. Where have you been?

Me:

It's been two days.

Siren:

Like I said. Forever.

Me:

I'm working on something for Cross. I should be back soon.

Siren:

Does it have to do with... you know.

Me:

I can't answer that.

Siren:

I don't like not being able to see you. I worry when you're gone.

Me:

I'll take that as a compliment and not a question of my skills. I'll be fine, baby. I promise.

S he didn't know just how much it meant to me that she cared about my safety. I smiled and ran a hand over my beard, sighing through the fatigue of a long stakeout. I'd been living in this truck, surviving on protein bars and bottled water.

My fingers hovered over the illuminated screen, ready to send another message, but a call came through.

I hit answer and barked out, "Yeah?"

"Is that any way to greet an old friend, Bishop?"

"You're hardly my friend."

Deputy Assistant Director Douglas Wilson was my handler and a giant pain in my ass, definitely not someone I'd consider a friend. But in my line of work, he was as close as I had.

"I'll take you off my Christmas card list, then."

"What do you want? I'm busy."

"We need an update on your assignment. The higher-ups are getting restless. It was supposed to be a long game, but the Russians have been making big moves. The timeline needs to shift too."

Unease soured in my belly. "Things have changed since Senior's death."

"I know that."

"She's thrown a huge wrench in the plan. She's innocent and can't get hurt in the crossfire. Not without drawing a hell of a lot of attention from the media."

"I saw the announcement. She married him, huh? That's a development no one was expecting. It doesn't change the fact that the Cross family is going down."

"It wasn't like that. Her dad and Senior did it without them knowing. Told them both they were business documents, then filed the paperwork without their knowledge. They've been legally married for the last ten years."

"Jesus. That's cold."

"Yeah, well. It offers her a little more protection."

"Does it? Seems to me it only makes her a bigger target. Volkov will see her as leverage now."

Nausea rolled in my belly. Instinct had been whispering the same to me, but I'd been trying hard to ignore it. Especially while I was so far away and unable to keep an eye on her.

"He already did. He's smart enough to know he just has to get his hooks into her, one way or another."

"All the more reason for us to wrap this up. Get us what we need so we can put these guys behind bars. She'll be safer if they're all out of her life."

"Yeah. Maybe."

"You don't agree?"

I scratched at my chin, my eyes still trained on the warehouse across the street. It was close to midnight, and any legitimate work had long since ceased. "It's starting to feel like the Cross brothers aren't as involved in things as we suspected."

Wilson snorted in derision. "Yeah, and I'm the fucking cookie monster. Whose name is on those trucks? Whose pockets are lined in cash from dirty shipments?"

He was missing the point. "I'm serious, Wilson. They're involved, no question, but they're not the big bad here."

"Bishop. Have you been compromised?" His tone was suddenly all serious. Icy. Deadly.

"No. But our focus should be on?—"

"Our focus is on whatever the hell I tell you it's on. Now get me what I need to put Daniel Cross Jr. in prison for the rest of his natural life."

Swallowing back an insubordinate reply, I bit out, "Any word on her parents?"

"You're living under the same roof as the people responsible for their deaths. But you already knew that, didn't you?"

"Did one of them pull the trigger?"

"May as well have."

"That's not the same—" A shadow moving in my periphery had me shutting my mouth mid-sentence. "Gotta go."

I hung up on Wilson and snagged my binoculars, adjusting the focus to see if my shadow was of the human variety. It was.

"What are you up to, you shady motherfucker?" I followed him until he stopped near a building, hoping I could figure out who he was now that he'd stepped into the beam of the floodlight. Unfortunately, he was so backlit all I could make out was his cowboy hat. If I was going to get eyes on him, I'd have to change positions or get out of my truck, but that would leave me exposed at best and blow my cover at worst.

"Come on, show me your face, asshole."

I reached for the camera I'd left on the passenger seat without taking my eyes off the unknown cowboy. As I watched, a trio of figures came into view. I had no trouble clocking those three, and they weren't trying to hide themselves either. Volkov's men didn't live in fear of discovery. They did their dirty business where anyone could see them because they thought they were untouchable.

Snapping a few pictures, I grinned as I caught them shaking the cowboy's hand. "Gotcha."

As the man in the middle pulled his hand away, I realized they hadn't been shaking hands. They'd been exchanging money. The cowboy seemed to count it and made to pocket it, but I was able to snap a couple more pictures of the exchange before he gestured for them to follow him inside.

"Goddammit, move out of that fucking light. I need to see your face, you traitor."

The words gave me pause. I shouldn't care about who was double-crossing the brothers, but I'd been on this assignment long enough I supposed it was only natural to feel a little bit of loyalty.

Yeah. Right.

Fucking idiot.

Falling in love with the one woman I couldn't have and forgetting where my true allegiance belonged. This was like something out of the handbook of cautionary tales for newbies.

I cursed as the group walked away. Whoever he was, the cowboy was smart. He stuck to the shadows and never gave me an opportunity to catch his face. I couldn't decide whether that was due to dumb luck or years of practice.

Either way, one thing was sure.

Snagging my phone, I hit the call button. Cross answered on the second ring.

"What?"

"You've got a big fucking problem."

"Yeah? Tell me something I don't know, asshole." Cross sighed, and I could picture him squeezing the bridge of his nose. "What now?"

"I know how the Russians are getting their info."

"How?"

"You've got a mole."