She’d always known his problems with Ian weren’t strictly professional. “Yes, you showed them that he was human and that you’re a traitor.”
He waved that off. “Traitor? I’m more American than any of those fuckers. They still think we’re some sort of democracy. We left that long ago. You know what took down your father’s precious USSR? It sure as fuck wasn’t a thirst for freedom. Hell, no. It was capitalism. The world doesn’t run on democracy. It runs on capitalism, and I’m a capitalist.”
As long as he was talking, he wasn’t shooting her full of electricity. “So you’re going to take the plans for the engine and sell them to the highest bidder.”
“No. I’m going to hand them over to the oil company that’s paying me and let them sit on it. There’s still money to be made in oil. A lot of it. Until such time as that changes, there’s no place for technology like this. Do you really think some bumfuck beach bum from Loa Mali is the first scientist to think this up? No. This is just the latest, and we’ll take this down, too. When the company is ready, they’ll roll out their own version and the money will stay in the right hands.”
Ian had been right. This wasn’t about selling secrets to other governments. “So you work for companies that want you to steal technology for them. Or hurt other companies. That’s why you’re working with my uncle on the pipeline.”
Nelson shrugged a little, like a small boy who had been caught cheating at Monopoly. “Malone Oil doesn’t belong to my employers. If you aren’t in with the big boys, then you’re fair game. The Collective watches out for their membership.”
“The Collective? They have a name for themselves? Oh, god, I hate the Illuminati crap. So I’m supposed to believe that a bunch of CEOs have gotten together and they hire you to what? Steal some plans? What the hell can you really do?”
A nasty little smile lit Nelson’s features. “Well, let’s see. Let me give you an example. Let’s say my latest assignment is for a pharmaceutical company whose top-selling pain reliever is being beaten out by new-blood competition. New drug research takes years and millions of dollars. It’s so much easier to simply herd the public where we think they should go.”
She got a chill as she remembered what had happened a little over a month before. Someone had coated the caplets of a certain brand of ibuprofen with a cyanide paste. It was clear and undetectable to the human eye. Fifteen people in five states had died.
The company’s stock had plummeted while the rival company had seen its shares and its products purchased at higher quantities than ever before.
They had called it a terrorist attack. For Nelson, it seemed it was just good business. “You’re a terrorist for hire.”
“I’m just a lowly employee, Charlotte, looking to make his pension. Like a lot of other people in my line of business. The Collective finds it easy to recruit from Western intelligence agencies. They pay crap. The Collective offers an alternative. Did you wonder how I knew to be here at this particular time?”
She had wondered about it. And come up with some unsavory answers. “You’re saying one of the agents is working for you?”
“Maybe more than one, but certainly you have a viper in your little nest.” He picked up the microphone again and pressed the button on the side before speaking into it. His voice filled the air around her. “Mr. Taggart, you’re down to one minute. Has the bloom worn off the rose so quickly? Well, then you won’t mind when I try her out myself.”
“I’m here.”
Charlie’s whole body went electric with the sound of his rough-as-gravel voice. Fear crept along her spine as her husband stepped on the bridge and every gun in the room pointed his way. Four AK-47s that could tear him apart in an instant.
He shouldn’t have come. He should have found a way off the boat. She wasn’t worth his life, not after everything she’d done.
“Hey, baby.” He held a laptop computer in one hand, his eyes on her.
Two more pirates came up behind him, surrounding him with death.
God, she couldn’t lose him.
“Mr. Taggart, so nice to see you again.” Eli Nelson sounded perfectly content, but then he did have the upper hand. “Did you bring me my data?”
Ian tapped the computer with his left hand. “It’s password protected. I’ll give you the laptop, but you don’t get the password until Charlie and I are off the ship.”
A low chuckle came out of Nelson’s mouth. “Really? You think this is a negotiation?”
If Ian was bothered by all those guns pointed at him, he didn’t show it. He stood tall, his shoulders squared, his stance firm. “I think I have something you want and you definitely have something that belongs to me.”
“I wish we had more time,” Nelson said, sighing with regret. “I really do. I would honestly find it fascinating to peel back your layers, Tag. I mean that literally. I would love to take you with me and skin your hide. But I would also try to understand how you fell for a woman I hired to fuck you. I’ll be honest. I thought I had a fifty-fifty shot at it working.”
“Whatever you paid, you should have doubled it because she’s really good,” Ian replied.
“Ian!” It was good to know his sarcasm didn’t fade just because they were about to die.
Ian sent a slow, infinitely sexy smile her way. “Hey, baby, it’s true. I like to acknowledge great work, and you have the sweetest pussy in the whole world. It’s totally worth a man’s downfall.”
Why was he so damn calm?
He obviously had a plan and it didn’t involve giving Eli Nelson everything he wanted.
One of the pirates, a large man with scars covering his face, leaned in, speaking in broken English about some boat being sighted.
Nelson frowned. “We’ll be faster than the fucking Coast Guard. What the hell did I hire you for if you can’t handle a couple of Coast Guard boats? Get my boat ready. We leave in a few minutes.”
The pirate jogged off, ducking down the stairs.
Only five guns now. What was Ian planning? And how was she going to get that remote device off Nelson?
She glanced down at the water. It was fairly calm. She knew roughly where they had placed the bomb.
If she couldn’t get the remote, maybe she could get the damn bomb. Maybe she could turn it all around. How far was it to the water? She just had to get out the side door and over the railing, but she would have to jump out or she would hit the larger main deck instead of the water. She didn’t need a couple of broken legs.