Christen insisted she wanted nothing to do with the Davidson wealth.
Gator told me that while she was still stationed in the forward operating base in Iraq, she’d had a lawyer draw up papers saying that if anything came her way, she would immediately liquidate the assets and distribute them to charity. She would take no control and have nothing to do with the Davidson wealth.
It was after she presented those papers to her father that the will changed.
Gator told me that William Davidson had sent the new will to Christen, showing her that she was no longer listed as a recipient. Christen's role in the last will would have given her control of her share and that of all of her siblings under the age of thirty. She was supposed to balance Karl’s hot-headed ideas until such time the younger siblings were full adults.
We had all surmised that this would keep Christen safe from a murderous brother.
But what it did was move the crosshairs from Christen to London.
Man!
Okay.
I was here on this side of the wall. They were there on the other.
I had been “saved” by the man who had tried to kill me and who had taken my beloved father.
My brain was working on overdrive, searching for anything that would help me puzzle out a way through.
This was a lot. There was a lot going on.
And I didn’t have time to mull.
I had time for action.
What action could I take in this odd space with no exit…well…?
Shit.
I pushed against emotions that wanted to burst through the barriers of logic.
Stop freaking out and think. Your team needs you.
Outside, Christen and Gator. They wouldn’t be back for, say, an hour. Would they realize something was wrong? Or would they just walk through the doors and be caught up in this horror?
Inside, there were men with skills, Strike Force. Kira’s date, Ty Newcomb, Delta Force Operator. But they weren’t strapped with weapons: eight men and the seven women they loved.
A gun was a gun was a gun.
And while there were indeed superheroes in that room, they were not superhuman.
A bullet could stop them cold.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
That room was full of people I love. My team. My heart, Striker.
I went back to the door, hoping it would give, if even an inch, so that I might see what was happening. Or even if there was a wide enough crack at the bottom so I could shove Vincent’s phone underneath to video like I had when I was surveilling Hanasal.
The answer was an emphatic “no” to both.
Though, from this angle, I could now see a square vent in a strange placement on the wall. Two foot by two foot, it must have been nestled between studs. The metal covering was ornate, I guessed, so that it would blend into the opulence of the ballroom.
I crouched to the height of someone sitting in a chair to look through.
Ah, I knew what this was for.
With no wings on the stage. This space must be where performers prepped and exited to climb the three steps up to the dais. Someone sitting in a chair and monitoring could see the stage and tell folks back here when it was their turn to go on.
Taking a knee, I could observe in a limited way. I needed information so I could “work the problem,” as Striker would say. Slow and steady saves her team. Be smart, Lexi. Do it right.
“Where is Christen Davidson?” The MC asked. The fabric stretched across his face obfuscating his features.
My brain pinged back to the CIA, where I had learned about the artist’s use of DNA to create a likeness. There would be nothing to go on once these men left. Their gloved hands would leave no prints, their costume would allow for no accidentally left behind genetic material.
They would get away with this.
“Where is Christen Davidson?” He raised his voice.
Kira timidly raised her hand.
Ty’s face hardened. I had known Ty Newcomb for a while now. But he had just met Kira last week. From the looks of things, the love bug had bitten him hard. Where most people wouldn’t see the subtle shift in his demeanor, I lived amongst men who were or had been special forces operators. Ty was expanding his systems like a bull pawing at the ground, ready to lunge.
Calm. Wait. I sent him soothing vibes, knowing they wouldn’t reach him.
“Christen isn’t here. She went to pick up her mother-in-law and and and and her sisters-in-law. They aren’t here.”
There was a stillness amongst the green Army. This was blowing a hole in their plans.
“Who are you?” MC snarled.
“Me? I’m Kira.”
Steady, Ty.
“And what is your role here?”
“I’m… I’m a guest.”
“You’re Christen’s friend?”
“I met her the other day. She’s not here,” Kira said.
“All right. I’m going to call out names. When you hear your name, you will come forward and form a line.”
“Lexi Sobado.”
I was second up. That was information.
Omega had a score to settle with me. And it had nothing to do with Spyder’s data dump. Omega had come after me two years ago, and in the fight, several of their operators had been killed.
The guy twitched his gun at Kira.
“No, she’s not here either.” Kira had seen the guy push me out the door. Of that, I was reasonably sure. Would she tell? Would they hunt me? I held my breath. There was nowhere for me to go. All I could possibly do here was to shadow walk and stay invisible.
“She left. I… I think she left with Christen and Gator…I don’t know.” Kira stared down at her shoes.
