have a name yet.”
“So let me get this straight,” Jack said. “We’re going to Iran to break into their national museum so we can destroy a painting created by the most hated man in the world?”
“That pretty much sums it up.”
Gabe’s gaze never strayed from Grace, and he could see the slight stiffening of her shoulders as she realized what this could mean for them. Tussad spent a lot of time in Iran. They could kill two birds with one stone. And then maybe, just maybe, once they’d taken their revenge, they could start to put their lives back together.
“Everyone get a good night’s sleep,” he said. “We’ll start recon in the morning at 0800.”
Jack stayed behind in the conference room when everyone else left. He’d known Gabe too long and knew in his gut that something else was going on. Gabe and Grace had always set fire to each other, and it looked like things hadn’t changed much. But very few people knew Gabe’s true identity, and even fewer knew he’d once had a wife and family. The two of them needed to cool it in a hurry if they didn’t want Ethan and Logan to speculate.
“What the hell is going on, Gabe?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“The part about you having the hots for your wife is
“Fuck you.”
“I’ll pass. Besides, your sex life isn’t what I’m referring to, though it’s damned entertaining. There’s something else going on, and I want to know what it is. You two are planning something.”
“Shit.” Gabe closed his eyes and massaged his neck. “Have I ever told you having you for a friend is a pain in the ass?”
“Daily,” Jack said.
“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. Some ideas are better in theory than reality. I need to get out of here. Let’s go get a beer.”
Jack unfolded his long body from the chair and followed his friend outside. The night was warm and the humidity thick. Fog rolled low across the London streets and crept into alleyways. The steady drizzle of the afternoon fell faster in darkness, and the wet soaked right through to the skin. The black lampposts that lined Chapel Street glowed a soft yellow, and umbrellas of red and black covered the heads of those walking home from work along the dismal grey streets.
Neither of them noticed as passersby veered far out of their way. They looked exactly like what they were— dangerous.
The Lamp and Light was dimly lit and sparsely populated. It wasn’t one of the nicer establishments in Westminster, so the tourist crowd was always small. If you wanted booze and privacy, then The Lamp and Light was the place to go.
Jack noticed the blonde working the bar right away. He looked her over slowly from head to toe, appreciating what the leather halter top did for her breasts. He caught her eye, winked, and held up two fingers. He followed Gabe to a round corner booth and sat across from his friend.
The bartender brought the drinks herself—hips swaying in tight black jeans and the edge of a tattoo peaking from her midriff. Yum, he loved tattoos. She set the bottles on the table and laid a folded napkin in front of Jack with a number written on it in black marker.
“Christ, can’t you go anywhere without attracting women?” Gabe asked. “It’s damned embarrassing the way they throw themselves at you.”
“I’m just sowing my oats till the right woman comes along. They’d throw themselves at you too if you didn’t look so damned scary all the time. Haven’t you ever heard of a razor? Maybe getting a haircut?”
“I don’t want them to throw themselves at me. I’m not interested.”
“Are you telling me you haven’t had sex since Grace left you?”
“Excuse me for not being a man-whore like you. I happen to think marriage means something.”
“You might oughta tell your wife that, you know, since she divorced you and all. Speaking of Grace—”
“Were we?”
“Tell me what’s going on. Why’d you bring her in?”
Gabe took a long drink of beer, his gaze constantly moving, looking for threats that weren’t there. “Because I was afraid the rumors might be true. I thought bringing her back into a legitimate game might—I don’t know—make her not so hell-bent on the path of self-destruction. She’s not that person. I have to at least try.”
Love was a ridiculous thing, Jack thought. For something that, in his mind, didn’t even exist to have the power to make a man like Gabe Brennan vulnerable when the worst terrorists in the world had been trying and failing for the last sixteen years.
“You can’t choose the timetable for a person to heal after trauma. Have you stopped thinking with your dick long enough to consider she might not be ready for this?”
“Yeah, I have. We can’t do this job without her. There’s not a marine sniper or an agent anywhere in the world who’s as good at the long shots as she is.”
“I agree with you. But you’re leaving something out.” Jack signaled for another beer and waited Gabe out patiently.
“She only agreed to come with me if I promised to help her take out Kamir Tussad.”
Jack took an unfortunate swallow of beer just before Gabe dropped that bombshell, and the bitter liquid lodged in his throat. He coughed until he caught his breath and then said, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Are you both so desperate to die?”
“It was only a matter of time. If I could have gotten to him before now, I would have taken him out, but the man knows how to disappear. I have contacts who still keep me informed of his movements.”
“Gabe,” Jack said, shaking his head.
“You don’t understand.”
“I do, my friend. There’s never a more powerful motivator than revenge. But sometimes it’s hard to see the outcome from the red haze clouding your vision.”
“He ripped my life to shreds with one bullet, Jack. I lost my daughter and my wife because of him. I lost everything. Grace has just given me the excuse to do what I’ve been dreaming about. And I can do it easier with her than without her.”
Jack closed his eyes and damned all friendships to hell. That’s what happened when people started mattering. The checks and balances system never got even.
“Count me in,” he said. “You’re going to need me. I’ve been across damned near every square mile of Iran with my SEALs.”
“Thanks. I’ll owe you.”
“They don’t take paybacks in hell.” Jack scooted out of the booth. “You want some advice?”
“Not particularly.”
“Go make love to your wife. Watching the two of you makes me feel like a voyeur.”
“Yeah, except that my wife hates my guts and blames me for the death of our child. And she has every right.”
“To borrow one of your favorite sayings, fuck that. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go get laid before you send me to my death. I suggest you do the same.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Sleep eluded Grace.
It had been a long time since she’d slept a full night through. Her mind never seemed to be able to rest. If it wasn’t nightmares, it was memories. And she’d take the nightmares any day. She hadn’t been that lucky tonight.
She woke up in her bed, her flesh clammy and her mind disoriented. The weight of Maddie’s limp body against her own and the stickiness of blood as it soaked both of them was vivid in her mind—as if she were truly reliving the event.
