Chapter 15

Five minutes until the meeting…

This was crazy.Beyond crazy. And what might be their only chance at finally apprehending Montgomery.

Walker stood in the shadows lining the street, scouring the area for any hint of movement. Proof that Montgomery was the lying bastard they'd exposed, and that he wouldn't follow the instructions Blair had set out for their meeting.

Namely, that he came alone.

Not that Blair expected the man to abandon any form of backup. She just wasn't sure how much he'd bring. A bodyguard? Two? A squad of black ops men loyal only to him?

Walker was sure it was the latter. Especially after all the proof they'd uncovered on the drives, once Wyatt had broken the encryption. Voice recordings. Videos of clandestine meetings. More photographs than they could go through in a week. Either McClaren was the most paranoid man on the planet, or he'd counted on Montgomery double crossing him. Tossing him under the bus, as he'd phrased it, just like Montgomery had done to the previous director. Anything and everything to prevent anyone from discovering Montgomery's involvement. That he'd been running weapons, drugs — hell, people — for years. All thanks to the power of his position.

Not that Walker had been surprised. There would always be men like Montgomery. What worried him more were the obscene number of photos of both Blair and Gretta. Surveillance that had started six months before Gretta had caught McClaren taking that bribe, and had continued, since, including images of them in Montana.

What proved they'd been targets long before Montgomery had called Blair that night at Walker's place. And Walker couldn't help but wonder if the threat would continue even after Montgomery was dethroned. That whoever was waiting to take the bastard's place would see the sisters as loose ends that needed to be dealt with.

All the more reason for Walker to show Blair she had a life beyond MI6. Beyond London. Back in West Yellowstone where anyone gunning for her —for Gretta — would have to go through Walker's entire team. And he'd take those odds, any day.

Arguments he'd make after they'd put Montgomery down. Permanently, if Walker had any say, which, he didn't. Not unless Montgomery personally tried to hurt one of his team. Walker had promised Blair he'd follow her lead. That if she thought Montgomery should rot in Belmarsh for the rest of his life, Walker would play along.

Unless their lives were at stake. Then, all bets were off. The one concession Blair had made.

Four minutes…

Which was saying a lot considering the impromptu plan they'd devised. Blair had been certain that her boss wouldn't agree to a meeting unless he chose the location. Somewhere free from CCTV, and where setting up an overwatch would be impossible. Which hadn't left many options, though Walker had to admit, the man had picked the ideal spot.

The tunnels running beneath the city.

The only point in their favor was that Blair had insisted on choosing the time. Midnight. Less than an hour to prepare and not nearly enough for the bastard to get a tactical team deployed and onsite prior to the actual meeting — not if he needed to keep it all off-the-books. Which meant, Montgomery wouldn't have the advantage he'd been hoping for.

Walker rolled his right shoulder, hating the tension straining his muscles. Making him acutely aware of every plate, every screw. A constant reminder of everything he'd lost — the consequences if he failed. How he'd never come back from losing Blair.

He took a deep breath — pushed all the outlying thoughts down until nothing remained but stone-cold determination. That eerie calm that washed over him whenever he got into a cockpit. It wasn't that he doubted his team or thought Montgomery's men would outmaneuver them.

It was dumb luck that sucked. An unlikely ricochet, or mechanical issue. The power cutting out or coming on. Something unforeseeable that worked its way into a mission.

Murphy.

And after that freak of a tail rotor incident, Walker didn't trust Murphy to be on his side.

Three minutes…

That's why Walker had chosen Furnival Street — one of two current access points. Only, this wasn't an unassuming door that led to a lift and a set of narrow ladders like the one on High Holborn. Unless Montgomery could open the emergency fire door staring at Walker from across the street, it would take shimmying through an exhaust vent several feet off the ground to get inside. Not how Walker envisioned the new director arriving. His team, however…

It was perfect. A quick boost from below, and one of them would be up and inside. A dart to the door below, and an entire squad could access the lift. And with it already late, there were only a handful of people in the area, giving a squad ample opportunity to infiltrate the place undetected.

Walker's team was ready. Ty, Knox, and Colton were already inside, blending in with the banks of compressors, old telephone equipment, and what seemed like endless branching tunnels. With any luck, they could incapacitate a few of Montgomery's men without the rest of the bastards realizing until it was too late.

Corbin was shadowing Gretta and Blair, in case Walker got held up trying to work through the men from their six. Because Walker knew, without a doubt, there'd be far more people in play than they'd considered. That this really would be a war.

Not that they had to win per se. Just buy enough time for Blair to get Montgomery to admit to everything — bolster their evidence so there wasn't even a shadow of a doubt — then Leland could hopefully swoop in with a contingency of Interpol agents and wrap everything up in a legal bow.

Two minutes…

There. At the end of the street. Ten men moving along the edge of the buildings. Keeping to the shadows. What was obviously a seasoned team. All dressed in black. What looked like vests and goggles — enough weapons to take on a couple dozen men.

They definitely knew where they were going. Thirty seconds, and the front runner was offering his teammate a hand up. Another ten, and the guy was gone — through the slats and into the building. Less than twenty more, and he had that door popped open — the rest of his team filing through.

Complete ingress in sixty seconds flat.

One minute…

Walker checked the street, then darted across, staying close to the wall in case one of the men decided to duck back out — check their six. Making it to the door without having to fight someone or dodge any bullets was a positive start. What Walker hoped foreshadowed the remainder of the op.

Accessing the stack of boxes he'd hidden without anyone walking down the street, another success. A step and a leap, and he had the lip of the vent beneath his fingers. A few kicks of his feet, and a huge pull, and he was halfway in — was able to rest his hip on the edge. Some fancy wiggling, and a few shifts of the equipment on his vest, and he was through. Was able to drop to the floor.

He donned his mag light, keeping it low. Just enough he wouldn't smash his head or trip. While night vision would have been nice, the place lacked any real source of light to amplify the goggles, other than the odd overhead lamp which still worked. The majority located in the one room where Montgomery had wanted to meet.

Walker checked his watch, tamping down any residual fears. He'd guarantee Blair's safety or die trying.

Showtime…

This was it.The final move.

And it all came down to whose team was ultimately better.

Blair stood at the far end of the room, doing her best to blend in with the bunker's metal walls. It was eerily quiet. The kind that seemed unnatural. Like being in a forest with absolutely no other sounds humming around. A warning that something deadly was nearby.

Just her luck, she knew exactly the kind of predator she was up against. And that there was no way Montgomery wasn't bringing an entire contingency of armed men with him.

They'd agreed to come alone. Though, she had no doubts he'd waltz into the area with at least one highly trained arsehole walking beside him. Spin it as him needing security just to walk down the street. That his position precluded him from going anywhere absolutely alone. Probably a loyal MI6 bloke. The kind who wasn't on any official docket. Who worked outside the bureaucracy.

An assassin, if she were being honest. The fabled double O, only he wouldn't work for the government. Wouldn't be burdened by legalities or conscience. Just money and greed and a thirst for power.

Exactly like Montgomery.

Blair wasn't sure how she'd missed all the signs. That him sending her all that covert aid five months ago to help Gretta hadn't been for her benefit, or Gretta's, but an effort to keep Blair from uncovering his involvement. That he was the snake in the grass she'd been chasing, all along.

Oliver Poppy had taken the fall. The fact Gretta had killed the bastard had only worked in Montgomery's favor. No one left alive to out him. Not that Gretta had killed the man to further anyone's agenda. She'd simply been saving Blair's life after Poppy had fired first — caught Blair in the shoulder.

Something her sister might have to do, again, because she was Blair's first line of defense. Not that Blair would have Gretta in view until it suited her. When the shock of seeing her in the UK might actually give them an advantage. Not that Montgomery would be all that surprised when Gretta had always been Blair's go-to for help. Support. But the man would definitely be expecting Walker. No question. So, not having him with her…

That would take some of the cockiness out of her boss' stride. Knowing Walker was close. That he was in the shadows — watching. Hunting. And it might be enough to keep the situation civil. Blair was prepared to offer Montgomery an exchange. Their lives and freedom for his.

Blair doubted he'd go for it. That he'd keep his word and not have a stealth team lurking in the dark, waiting to eliminate her and everyone close to her. But she'd still hope.

She glanced at her watch, feeling the weight of the time sink into her soul. Four zeros.

Midnight.

Blair rolled her head side to side, loosening her muscles. Shoving down any residual reservations. They had a plan. But more than that, she had a team. Men who far surpassed anyone Montgomery would have with him. She'd put her faith it that.

In them.

In Walker.

Footsteps, echoing down the long tunnel leading to the room. Not hurried. Just a steady progression through the bunker. Exactly how she expected her boss to act. Methodical. Calculated. Montgomery didn't panic. Didn't rush. And he sure as hell didn't expect to lose.

She'd use that last assumption against him. Because she was getting a future with Walker, whatever the cost.

That thought played in her mind as the footsteps stopped a moment before Montgomery materialized out of the darkness, stepping through the bulkhead door, some kitted-out bloke at his side. The guy had two guns and a rifle in holsters and slung over his shoulder, along with some grenades and a handful of extra magazines strapped to a vest. Topped off with a set of night vision goggles wrapped around a helmet, and he was exactly what Blair had envisioned.

She was in jeans and a jumper, with only a Kevlar vest as evidence she was concerned at how the meeting would play out. Sure, she was armed. A Walther in her hand. Her backup Glock under her arm. And a compact Ruger LCP in an ankle holster. More weapons than she'd ever packed while in London. Hell, on most missions. Unlike Walker's crew, Blair didn't go on assignments armed for an invasion. But tonight, she wasn't taking any chances. She wanted her boss to know she was serious. And standing there, armed the way she was, would showcase that more than what she said. Actions, and all that…

Montgomery gave her a once-over, his smug grin roiling her stomach. It was so obvious, now, that he was dirty. From the hint of contempt in the line of his mouth to the obvious disdain in his gaze, everything about him screamed corruption. She'd just been too busy trying to be good enough in his eyes to notice.

He took one more step, glancing around the area before nodding at her. "Agent Hughes."

"I told you to come alone."

"I'm the director of MI6. I don't go anywhere alone. Besides, I know you didn't venture here by yourself, either." He studied the shadows, again. "Where's Walker? That is who you brought with you, right? Your new… friend."

"He's close. Who's the bloke?"

"No one you need to worry about. Just an insurance policy, of sorts, that you wouldn't break your own rules and kill me on sight. After how you left that villa on Tortola, you can't blame me for being cautious."

She snorted. "You sent me there to die. I can't help it if your men aren't as skilled as you'd hoped. Speaking of which… where's the rest of them?"

Montgomery didn't so much as let the corner of his mouth twitch. "Rest of who?"

"The wet squad you have waiting in the wings. We both know there's no way you only came here with one agent. Not that it matters. This will either end with both of us walking away, or bloody. That's up to you."

Blair shuffled over, giving Gretta a clear sight line of the bastard in black tactical garb, before holding up her hand. "I've got those flash drives, right here. You'd be amazed how much McClaren distrusted you. All the evidence he'd collected of your partnership. I guess he was concerned you'd turn on him like you did to Poppy."

Montgomery shrugged. "I wasn't the one who killed Oliver."

"No, you just set all the wheels in motion, knowing he'd never go down without a fight. That I'd try to bring him in alive. The perfect storm, as they say. But that's ancient history. I have a proposition."

"I'm here, aren't I? So, say whatever it is you have to say before I lose my patience."

"You're awfully smug for a man who's facing treason. But then, you're probably cocky enough to think I won't be getting out of here alive. Which is the proposition. You pull the hit you have on me, Gretta, Walker, Corbin, and anyone else you thought to include. You take Gretta's name off that blacklist and expunge her record. In essence, you pretend as if we never existed — let us disappear — and I'll give you everything McClaren had. Enough proof to put your head on the chopping block."

Montgomery stared at her for a few moments before chuckling. As if he found the entire situation funny. "Your freedom. That's all you're asking for?"

"That's all I need."

"No insisting I cease and desist all my extraneous activities? Turn over a new leaf, as they say?"

"What's that old proverb? That a leopard can't change its spots? I'm not naive, Montgomery. Nor am I unrealistic. Even if you did stop everything — the guns, the drugs, the people — someone else will simply take your place. And for better or worse, you're a given. The devil you know, kind of deal. So, agree to my terms, and this can all fade into the past."

He nodded, as if he agreed. "And you'll trust in that? My word?"

"Didn't I just say I wasn't naive? Of course, I'll have a failsafe in place. A few key pieces of evidence that will end up in the right hands should you renege. A girl can't be too careful these days. But unlike you, I have integrity."

"And I'm just supposed to believe that? Trust you?"

"The only other choice is this getting bloody." She took one step forward, putting herself in the perfect position to dive behind a huge air compressor. Give her other backup a clear path to join in the fray. "I'd rather it not go down like that."

"The fact you're sporting two handguns that I can see suggests differently. That's more Gretta's style, isn't it?"

"She rubs off. Well? Do we have a deal?"

"I want to see Walker."

Blair grinned. "Why? Do you fancy him, too?"

His smile fell slightly. "I want to see if he shares your sentiment. If this will all fade into the past, like you said because he doesn't strike me as the kind of man to leave a threat behind."

"How do you know what kind of man he is?"

"I just know. So, come on out Walker. Let's talk."

This was it. Either Montgomery would realize he wasn't the only one with a team hiding in the shadows and he'd chose not to get caught in a shootout, or he'd go all-in.

Blair glanced to her left, then nodded.

A few tinny footsteps, then Gretta was by her side, donning even more weapons than the sod standing next to Montgomery.

Gretta gave her old boss a smile, holding her Glock next to her shoulder. Proof she was armed and ready — had the jump on the other agent who was apparently too cocky to have any of his weapons in his hand. Just one palm caressing the pistol at his left side. "Hello, Montgomery. Chuffed to see you, again."

Montgomery's eyes widened as he turned his head, quickly scanning the surrounding area. He didn't speak, just looked at them as if he'd seen a ghost. As if he hadn't expected to see Gretta alive. But then, he had just sent a wet squad to Walker's house. Might have been told she'd been killed.

The man took a quick step back, inhaling sharply as he met Blair's gaze. And she knew. Standing there, looking into his eyes, a deep flush slowly shading his skin. His muscles tensing as his mouth finally lifted into a snarl.

This was ending bloody.