She arrowed him with a look that made him come to his feet and move the chair out of the way.
“I don’t have a home, Jack. I never did.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Gabe watched the bedroom door and cursed himself a thousand ways to Sunday. Would they never have it easy? What had he done in this life to deserve this?
The others were deadly silent as they listened to the snick of Grace’s rifle case closing. She came out of the bedroom as cold and calm as she’d ever been, her wig straightened and back on her head. Her face was devoid of emotion, though she was pale as a ghost.
“Logan will drive you to the airport,” Gabe said. “The plane will be ready to take off as soon as you arrive. My security team will meet you at the airport in London to see to your safety. I’ll have another of my pilots come back and retrieve the rest of us after the op is finished.”
Logan never showed much emotion, but the look he gave Gabe made sure he knew his displeasure. But Logan knew how to follow orders, and he nodded his head sharply.
“I don’t think so,” Grace said with a cynical smile. “I can take care of myself.”
Cold fear snaked through his body as she took the watch off her wrist and slipped the earpiece out of her ear. “We’re done here, Gabe. Don’t come after me again.” She tossed the electronics on the couch and headed for the door.
“It wasn’t a request, Grace. And I’ll come after you as many damn times as it takes to get through that thick skull of yours. Logan will take you to the plane.”
Logan moved to stand in front of her, and before Gabe or Jack either one could intercede, Grace dropped her bag and shot her hands toward Logan. Gabe had to admire her skill, even though he regretted teaching her those particular moves. She used two fingers to slap at Logan’s shoulders, chest and neck, and Logan looked stunned as he fell to the floor, his limbs temporarily paralyzed.
“Have a nice life, boys,” she said with a salute as she closed the door of the suite silently behind her.
“Well, you have to give her points for style,” Jack drawled, sitting back in his chair.
“What happened? Ethan asked. “I can’t see anything, dammit. Why is Kill Shot offline? Her heart monitor isn’t even registering. You didn’t kill her, did you?”
Gabe closed his eyes and straddled the other dining room chair across from Jack. Logan was beginning to get the feeling back in his body, and he turned his head to glare at Gabe.
“Sorry,” Gabe said. “You should be fine in a few minutes.”
“Except for his pride and his manhood,” Jack muttered.
Gabe ran his fingers through his hair and looked at his watch. They still had eight hours before they were scheduled to break into the museum. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through the coded numbers he’d assigned until he found the one he was looking for.
“Simon,” he said to his pilot. “Grace is on her way to you. You’re her only way out of country. Take her back to headquarters. She’s to be detained and on restricted access until we return. Do whatever you have to do to get her to cooperate.”
Gabe hung up the phone, and Jack let out a low whistle, drawing his attention. “You’re digging yourself a hell of a hole to get out of.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe.”
Ethan cleared his throat and said, “So, by using my amazing deductive reasoning skills, I’m assuming that you and Grace know each other a hell of a lot better than we all thought.”
Gabe sighed, and knew he couldn’t keep the truth from them any longer. They needed to know what they were dealing with.
“You could say that. Grace is my wife.”
“Holy shit,” Ethan said. “That, I wasn’t expecting. How come you’re not mentioned in her file? It says she’s never married and has no living relatives.”
“You’d better stop digging through our files, kid,” Jack growled.
“There’s no mention of me in any file,” Gabe said. “As far as the US government is concerned, I don’t exist on paper.”
He said his next words quickly—mechanically—as if reciting from the dossier that was put together after Maddie’s death.
“Two years ago, our daughter was targeted by a sniper in Tussad’s army and killed right in front of Grace’s eyes. The trauma has made her—” Gabe searched for the words he wanted, but couldn’t seem to think of one that would make them understand.
“She’s not the same person she used to be,” Jack said softly. “I can see glimpses of the real Grace in there somewhere, but until her hatred of Tussad is resolved, she’s not going to get better. She needs professional help.”
“I know that,” Gabe said, the frustration evident in his voice. “And I’ll make sure she gets it once this is over.”
“So what do we do now?” Ethan asked.
“Nothing has changed,” Gabe said. “We get the painting and move forward with the plan.”
The only way Grace knew how to deal with being hurt was with anger, but she knew she had to control her emotions until she was out of the country and back on neutral soil. So for that reason alone, she had the concierge at the hotel get a car service to take her to the private airstrip where Gabe’s plane was located. She still had a part to play. At least for a little while.
She had her passport and papers ready when the driver pulled into the private area for VIPs. The guard saw her French citizenship and that she was using Piccoult’s aircraft, and he let her through with only a cursory glance.
The plane was ready for takeoff, the stairs extended, waiting for her arrival. Gabe would have called ahead, and she was expecting Simon to try something unorthodox to detain her. She knew Gabe would have given the order. It’s what she would have done in his position. Simon would try to drug her food or tranq her before they landed.
Her spine began to tingle as she reached the top of the stairs to the entrance of the plane. Simon should have been waiting for her. Unless he was hiding behind the door, getting ready to detain her. She didn’t pull the gun at the small of her back. Not yet. She didn’t want to incite panic from the airfield guards. But she did palm the small knife she kept in a sheath on the inside of her wrist.
She didn’t want to hurt Simon, but she’d be damned if she was going to be held prisoner until Gabe decided she was able.
“Simon,” she called out. “I’m giving you a fair warning. It’s best to ignore whatever orders Gabe just gave you. I’d hate for you to get hurt.”
She crossed the threshold and immediately checked the hidden area behind the door. There wasn’t anyone in sight, but the tingles down her spine had turned into full-fledged alarms telling her to get the hell out before it was too late.
Grace reached for her gun just as the cockpit door slammed open and she was shoved forward. She rolled as best she could in the confined space and came back up to face her attacker as fast as she could—her weapon pointed and ready to fire.
She recognized Shawn Kimball from the file Ethan had put together. He’d already closed the cabin door by the time she’d made it to her feet, and now it was just the two of them. She kicked off her shoes and held the pistol steady, just as he held his steady on her. His smile bordered on madness, and anticipation gleamed in his eyes. She could also see the intelligence. Kimball wasn’t someone to underestimate.
He was a big bastard—close to the same height as Gabe and as broad through the chest and shoulders as Jack. His hair was buzzed close to his scalp, and he held his weapon with ease. She could tell a lot about a man by how he held his weapon. And Grace knew before they even began that she was in deep shit.
“Was Simon the name of your pilot?” Kimball asked, his smile cruel. “I’ll have to apologize about the mess in
