The PMC representative cleared his throat as if he had just remembered how to breathe. 'Of course, Samantha. You're looking well.'
The barest smile flickered across the woman's face. 'And you, as well. This way, Ms. Massen, if you please.' The willowy woman, several inches taller than Kate, led her through the crowd, leaving Weatherby to head to the bar.
Kate regarded her new escort with curiosity. 'Professional acquaintance?'
The woman who had extricated Kate was Samantha Rhys-Jones, the head of Room 59's UK division. 'I knew Terrence back in his Royal Army days, before he retired, figuring there was more money in private security. When his own business failed, he must have signed on with Mercury. So, what were you two talking about?'
'Oh, dinner in London, among other things. Why, is there anything I should know about him?'
Samantha turned her head to regard her superior. 'He claims to be decent in bed, if that's what you're after. I wouldn't know — the last time our paths had crossed, he'd expressed interest, until I rebuffed him — rather forcefully.'
'I hope you didn't leave any permanent damage.' Kate looked back to Weatherby, who had just tossed his drink back and was signaling for another.
'Only if you count his pride, I suppose.' Samantha turned her laser-sharp, brown-eyed gaze on Kate. 'You can't be serious about him.'
'Of course not. But I'll keep track of him myself if I have to. Apparently they're headquartered in London. But I doubt anything will come of it, so thanks for getting me out of there.'
'It wasn't a ploy — I really do have a message for you.' Samantha snared two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter's tray with elegant ease. 'A Midnight Team operation went down in South London approximately twenty-six minutes ago. Unfortunately, the targets were not eliminated as planned — the team encountered another hit team on-site and had to engage them instead.'
'Another team? What was the outcome?' Kate asked.
'The main targets were terminated before or as our team arrived, as far as we can tell, but the other shooters got away. One of our operatives was taken out, as well. We're still trying to determine what happened.'
Kate's mouth tightened. 'South London, you said?' Off the other woman's nod, she continued. 'I assume you're going back to head the investigation?'
Samantha nodded. 'I took the liberty of booking us both on a ten-thirty flight this evening. You'll have just enough time to pack, but as for rest…'
Kate held up her hand. 'Don't worry about it — an airplane seat is practically like a second home to me. Just let me update Jake, and I'll have him meet us there.' She scratched the nape of her neck. 'Besides, it will be like heaven to take this damn wig off anyway.'
3
David slowed as he approached the edge of the building, his enhanced hearing picking up both the noises of his quarry and their conversation as they ran.
'What the hell was that? We're lucky we only lost three guys to whoever those guys were, and then you go and pull a goddamn stupid stunt like that? It's bad enough I have to report this to HQ, and I'm seriously considering bringing you up on insubordination charges once we get back…'
'Jesus, would you put a sock in it, you sound like my grandmother. They were just as surprised as we were. They got lucky is all. Besides, they had some nuts going head-to-head with us. And as for our deaders, well, I never liked them all that much anyway. Besides, we got the job done…'
'Not all of it, jackass. In case you'd forgotten, she's still alive, which makes this even worse…'
They missed someone? David crouched at the roof's edge and listened as the two arguing men clattered down the stairs of the fire escape and hit the alley. A soft beeping indicated that his superior was trying to contact him, but David ignored the insistent tone, trying to hear more. As soon as they were on the street, he swung over the side and followed them, his HK USP Tactical .45-caliber pistol out. He stepped carefully to minimize any noise.
'Yeah, yeah, we'll find her. That little bitch is crappin' her pants and on the run. We'll take her down in no time.'
'Says the guy who can barely keep his own e-mail account open. Don't forget, she's a hacker, and a damn good one, if she and her brother really got what we wanted. That fuckin' prick, trying to jack up the price on us — you should have seen the look on his face just before I double-tapped him. It was almost worth all this trouble…' The first man's voice trailed off.
David was coming down the first-floor steps when he heard an engine turn over. Looking down the narrow, grimy alleyway, he saw the headlights of a boxy SUV flare to life.
Leveling his pistol, David stepped to the end of the first-floor fire-escape landing and aimed at the driver's side of the windshield. The Range Rover sped forward just as he fired three shots. A trio of pockmarks appeared in the glass, but it didn't break as he had expected. Instead the SUV zoomed forward to pass below him.
Shoving his pistol into its holster, David grabbed the railing with both hands and vaulted over the side, tucking his feet under him to break his fall when he landed on the moving vehicle. He had practiced the maneuver during his Midnight Team training dozens of times, and pulled it off flawlessly, landing on the metal roof with a thud. As soon as he hit, he dropped to his knees. The built-in pads on his armor easily absorbed the impact as he grabbed on to the sides of the vehicle. The roof was more solid than he had expected, and he realized that it was armored, as well. If they can't shoot me, then they'll have to come out and get me.
The Range Rover picked up speed as it shot out of the alley, swerving in a hard right turn onto Wyvil Road — away from the rest of David's team. He opened a channel to his leader. 'M-One, this is M-Two. I'm tracking the hostiles, who are heading west on Wyvil…' David braced himself as the SUV ran over the curb and shot onto a larger avenue, heading north. 'Make that north on Wandsworth Road.'
'So nice of you to report in, M-Two. I've got you on our tracker — are you on the roof of the target vehicle?' M-One asked angrily.
'Affirmative…' David broke off as a man popped up from the passenger-side window, aiming a silenced pistol at him. Without time to draw his own weapon, he lunged toward the man and grabbed the gun just as it went off. The bullet disappeared into the night air. Holding the weapon away from him with one hand, David tried to maintain a grip on the roof with his other, but couldn't do both at the same time. The pistol slowly inched back down toward his head, the other man using his superior leverage with both hands to force it against his helmet. David let go of the roof and grabbed the man's other arm, but his opponent twisted out over the street, pulling David's upper body off the roof. Feeling himself slipping further, David lashed out with his left arm, grabbing the shooter's shoulder and pulling him down with him as he slid precariously close to the road.
'Whoa!' The man leaned back as David's weight forced him half out of the window. Dropping his pistol, he grabbed the door frame with one hand while trying to remove David's hand with the other. The driver yelled something, but David couldn't make it out. He tried to grab the window frame, as well, but the other man knocked his hand away, then clamped on to his fingers and pried them from his own black-suited shoulder. David tried to hold on, but felt each digit being loosened one at a time. He flailed frantically with his other hand, stealing a glance at the rough London pavement flashing by below, and not wanting to get any closer than he already was.
Before he could regain his grip on the other man, David's hand was torn away, and he flew from the Range Rover as it took another right turn. He landed on the street with a breath-stealing impact, rolling, bouncing and skidding to a halt at the side of the road. He had just begun to clear the stars from his eyes and get some air back into his lungs when a tire screeched to a stop only inches from his head. He heard doors popping open above him, and then strong hands were under his arms, hoisting him to his feet.
'Let's go, tough guy, you already fucked up the op enough, don't you think?' David caught M-Four's mocking words as he was unceremoniously stuffed into the back corner of the van, right next to the dead body they'd hauled back. Everyone else was in position. M-One was in the driver's seat, and hadn't even taken his eyes off the road as they'd collected David. But as David examined his battered body, he met the team leader's eyes in the rearview mirror, and got a very clear message — we'll discuss this later. Beside M-One, looking back with a concerned expression on her face, was Tara. M-Four, the loudmouth, had removed his MASC to reveal a lean, fox-faced man
