He thought seriously about taking the chance, but Knight was hardcore. He might feel like shit about it, but he would kill Ian if he deemed it necessary to complete whatever mission Her Majesty required of him. Fuck, he was going to kill Simon if he was in on this. He would take that Brit apart limb by fucking limb and feed him to the dogs. He didn’t actually own any dogs, but he would adopt the nastiest set of mutts he could just for the pleasure of feeding them Simon’s body parts if he’d joined the team just to spy for Knight.
Ian dropped the SIG, hating every moment of being caught with his pants down. “What do you want, Knight?”
It was a dumb question. There was only one thing Knight could possibly want. “I want The Broker. For the last few years, MI6 has been tracking a hacker who calls herself The Broker. She’s been selling information all around the world. If the Agency isn’t interested in her, too, I would be shocked. I’m not trying to fuck with you, Tag. I believe Charlotte Denisovitch is The Broker. She’s been causing trouble and my bosses want to have a little talk with her. She has information we need. I promise I’ll watch out for her. I won’t let her come to any real harm.”
Just a little torture. He looked inside the house. It wouldn’t be more than a minute or two before Alex got his shit together and came looking for him, but it was already too late. Damon wouldn’t have come alone. “Where’s Baz?”
Damon Knight and Basil Champion had been partners for years. If Knight was here, Baz would be backing him up.
“He’s here.” Simon walked from around the side of the house, Baz in front of him.
Baz’s slender frame belied what Ian knew to be a ton of lean strength. He was wearing a black long-sleeved shirt and black slacks, looking dapper as he moved through the yard. “Hey, Damon, look who I found.”
“I told you to put your fucking hands up,” Simon ordered. “Do you really think I won’t shoot you? I don’t even bloody like you.”
Ah, no dogs for the Brit. Simon was getting a raise.
“Now, seeing as I have your boy here and you have my boss, I suggest we all take a little time out and talk this through like the gentlemen I know we are,” Simon said. “Or we can start shooting and see who’s standing at the end.”
“You’ve been in America too long, Weston.” The gun at Ian’s head disappeared as Knight sighed. “You’ve turned into a bloody cowboy.”
No, Simon had gone from MI6 agent to Ian’s man. There was no way to downplay the beauty of loyalty. Ian had taken Simon in after he’d fucked up, shown him that he didn’t have to conform to MI6’s rigid rules, and Simon paid him back with loyalty.
“Boss, Adam picked up this one’s trail about two hours ago. I rather thought they might decide to pay you a visit. Damon, in case you’re thinking about trying something tricky, you should know I have a sniper on you. Jesse? Are you in place?”
A voice came from above. “Sure as fuck am. Tell Alex his roof is totally solid. I have a great view from up here. I would have taken out the first dude, but Ian seemed to be having fun. This one, though, is all mine.” A nice red dot appeared on Knight’s forehead. Right between his eyes.
Yeah, he was getting to like Jesse, too.
Alex sighed from his broken patio doors. “Could we keep the body count down? As it is I have no idea what we’re going to do with the sniper and the Russian Charlie used as a carpentry experiment. Why don’t we all come in the house and talk this thing through? There has to be some way for Damon to get what he needs without taking Charlie to Britain’s Guantanamo Bay.”
Alex was a spoilsport. “Fine, but you need to think about moving, man. This is a dangerous neighborhood. Hey, those contractors didn’t happen to leave a shovel behind, did they?”
Alex’s eyes went wide. “You can’t bury them in my backyard. Damn it, Ian, we’re putting in a swimming pool in the next couple of weeks. How am I supposed to explain that? First my French doors, then the hardwoods, and now you want to turn my backyard into a fucking body dump. It’s not happening, Ian.”
He walked away, muttering under his breath.
“I think that’s what happens when good agents lose their brain to a pretty bird,” Knight said.
At least they were in agreement on one thing.
He picked up Knight’s gun and followed Alex into the house.
Chapter Ten
Charlie watched as Ian and Damon Knight sat at his kitchen table together, their faces grim as they worked out her future.
Apparently her input wasn’t helpful as she’d been told to get ready for bed. He hadn’t even allowed her to help bandage him up. Eve had been the one to wash the blood off his shoulder and tell him how lucky he was that the bullet had only grazed him. Ian dismissed her the minute they had gotten back to his big house in the country. Chelsea had already disappeared into the guest bedroom Ian had assigned them to. Alex and Eve took the bed in the small dungeon. Jesse and Simon were pulling guard duty while Ian had called Jake and Adam to bury the bodies until Ian was ready to offer them up to the Agency. Charlie was sure the only person who was happy with anything that had happened all night long was Serena, who would probably be taking notes.
She couldn’t even think about sleeping. Not when she needed to get away. It was time to leave. Ian didn’t want her and she didn’t want to get anyone killed. She’d thought they would only come after her, but today had proven that her uncle was willing to hurt civilians to get to her. She’d thought she would have more time before they found her. Hell, she’d thought that maybe they had given up. She’d been in Florida for over a year working on the op that brought her back to Ian and no one had tried to kill her then. After so long without hearing from her uncle, she’d felt almost safe. Safe enough to come after her husband.
She’d been wrong and it was time to leave. After a little rest, she needed to get Chelsea and clear out of here.
The closest she’d managed to going to bed was changing into one of Ian’s massive T-shirts. It would have to do for sleepwear. It hung to her knees, covering more than a lot of dresses did.
“So you’re married to the big guy, huh?” Basil Champion sat down on the couch across from her, a longneck in his hand. He draped himself almost negligently across Ian’s big comfy couch.
“Not really.” She wasn’t sure why the British agent wanted to talk about her marriage, but she wasn’t getting into it with him.