Hard Risk by Sidney Bristol
Chapter Twelve
New Orleans, LA.
Harper placed the mug on the drying rack just so. The methodical nature of washing dishes soothed his tumultuous mind, taking him back to simpler times when he was expected to help Mom with the dishes every night. One of the first things he’d done as an adult was buy Mom a dishwasher. She’d scoffed at the thing in the beginning, but after the first big, family meal she’d hosted, he’d made a convert out of her.
These days he missed those moments where it was just the two of them sharing an activity, which was why when his mind was loudest he still rolled his sleeves up and washed dishes by hand.
“What are you doing?” Samuel asked slowly.
Harper glanced up. He’d been lost in thought to the point he hadn’t realized Samuel had returned.
“You get a tail on Daar?” Harper asked.
Samuel blew out a breath and set his laptop bag on the kitchen table. “No. He’s not taking a family car, and he isn’t going out of the front of the house. I haven’t been able to get a camera on the back, so it’s completely believable he hires a car, they pull around back and he’s gone without us realizing it.”
Harper grimaced.
That wasn’t good.
They’d lost Daar a handful of times. Where he went or what he was doing, they had no idea. But given that it only happened when he was alone, chances were whatever Daar was doing was business he didn’t want the family involved with.
“What did Robin want?” Samuel asked.
Harper wiped his hands. “You weren’t listening?”
Samuel held his hands up. “Wasn’t sure I wanted to be a third wheel.”
Harper pulled in a deep breath and a little of his anxiety relaxed. “Cassim invited me to go to Florida with them. I’d also appreciate it if we could lose some of the audio from today.”
Samuel regarded Harper for a moment. “You’ll have to give me timestamps.”
“I can do that.”
It would be a huge burden off his shoulders if he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the audio of their time together was gone.
“Alright. You told her you could do Florida?”
“No, I told her I needed to see if I could be away from work for a week. Jesus, man. I can’t be available all the time or it will look suspicious.”
“Fine. Fine. Play your game, but you’re going.”
“They’re leaving tomorrow.”
Samuel shook his head. “Shit. Talk about last damn minute.”
“I know, right? I was thinking we arrange it so I leave early. Sell it that I need to be back on Thursday or something, then have something come up that lets me stay.” Harper drummed his fingers on the counter. “We have one problem.”
Samuel pulled out a stool and sat across from Harper. “What’s that?”
This was not what Harper wanted to talk about. The very last thing. But he’d seen what leaving out details could do in this case, and he had to be honest with Samuel. “I’m emotionally compromised here.”
“So what, you like her? She’s a likable girl.”
He frowned. It was more than just liking Robin. “I relate to her. I find myself doing or saying things to protect her when I know you’re listening. She’s noticed it. I managed to talk myself out of the corner today, but how much longer? What other decisions am I making because I want to protect her?”
Samuel rubbed his hand across his face for a moment then stared at the countertop. “She’s a good person with rotten family. It makes sense. But nothing you’ve done in the name of protecting her has negatively impacted our investigation.”
He wasn’t getting what Harper was trying to say. Did he even understand it?
Samuel laid his phone on the counter. “I’m going to have Baruti meet us in Miami. I think we should move ahead with our plans there. It will make more sense, anyway. I’ll let Zora know we’re moving things—”
Harper’s phone began to vibrate on the charging station.
Samuel leaned over to look at it. “Logan is calling.”
Harper groaned. “Shit.”
“Answer it.”
He held back away from the phone. He’d hoped that talking to Jamie would suffice and get Logan off his back, but that clearly wasn’t the case.
Harper shoved his hands in his pockets. “What do I say? Anything he asks I won’t be able to answer sufficiently.”
Samuel stared at the screen until it went dark. “Tell him.”
“What?”
“Tell him.” He nodded, settling on the answer. “We’ll need more people in Miami. I can’t do anything because Robin’s seen me. Baruti alone might get into trouble. Looping Logan in and having him help could be the right thing here. And you’re right, this has gone on long enough. So, do it. If Zora gets mad we’ll tell her it was my call, okay?”
Harper grit his teeth.
So much back and forth.
He couldn’t tell anyone. Now, talk. Be careful. Take more risks. It felt like this whole job was a teetering balancing act.
Harper picked up the phone before Samuel could change his mind. This at least Harper was on board with. He hit dial and turned away from Samuel.
The line barely rang once.
Logan’s voice was more of a growl than words. “Wright, you’d better start talking now.”
“I’m working an undercover job for Zora with Samuel and we need your help, TL.”
It was the truth, so why did Harper have an uneasy feeling about this? What was going on that he hadn’t seen yet?
Monday. Undisclosed.
“Sir?”
Hugo turned toward the entrance to his home office. Marc Schroeder stood there brimming with purpose, tablet in hand. He was Skilton’s replacement. This time Hugo would not make the same mistakes he had. Skilton had been allowed to operate without much oversight. He’d been efficient and ruthless, but with that freedom had also come the opportunity to vanish without a trace.
“What is it?” Hugo asked.
Marc stepped into the office and held the tablet out to Hugo. “We have visual confirmation.”
“What?” He frowned and took the device.
Damn it.
“It’s five minutes.” Marc gestured to the tablet. “He doesn’t do more than sit there, but it’s him.”
Hugo could only stare. “How? Do we know what happened? How many people know?”
It was true then.
Skilton had been captured.
Fucking hell.
Hugo had privately hoped Skilton had opted to retire. That might be a better option than this.
“I’d say our source and the two of us know Skilton is in custody. We don’t know where. My source isn’t privy to that.”
Hugo fought the urge to demand to know the source. If pressed, Marc would tell him that, but not without reason. The more people who knew a source existed the less reliable that source would become.
“How much do we know?” Hugo asked.
Marc shook his head. “Nothing. My source only knew we were looking for an older gentleman in custody, probably a black site. That’s it.”
Hugo grimaced. “What was Skilton doing?”
“He was going to speak with Senator—”
He waved Marc off.
That business had been messy, but it shouldn’t have turned into this.
Damn it.
Skilton would have moved to act before clearing anything with the council. That was the good and bad thing about Skilton. He always thought he was in charge.
“That’s not the only thing I came to speak to you about,” Marc said slowly.
Hugo turned from him and strode to the windows to look out at the barren landscape beyond.
Skilton wouldn’t talk. At least Hugo didn’t think that Skilton would were he captured. He was too proud to do otherwise, and he probably expected to die in custody. Hugo knew there was little chance of retrieving Skilton, and even if they did, he would no longer be trustworthy.
But what if Skilton talked?
What a disaster.
“What else do you have for me?” Hugo finally asked.
“You asked me to look into Daar?” Marc reminded him. “I gave you a report…”
“The others are courting him. They think I don’t know, but I do. What did you find?”
“You indicated I should do some digging. I took the liberty of contacting your asset, Saaina Suleiman?”
Hugo turned toward Schroeder. “What?”
He held up his hands. “She said she has leverage on Daar.”
“What kind of leverage?”
“A laptop. Cassim Suleiman had her open a safety deposit box at a bank in New York City and stored it there, because he believes his brother killed his first wife.”
That was old news, except Hugo had not been aware there was proof. “Get the laptop.
Marc inclined his head. “I will see that it is done.”
It was disappointing to think that Daar would betray what they’d built just like all the rest. But Hugo didn’t need them. Not like they needed him. He just had to remind them all who held the power here.
Tuesday. Miami International Airport, Miami, FL.
What Daar needed most was time away from his brother. He didn’t think Cassim had even paused to catch his breath while on the flight, just unending chatter.
Why did Daar continue to do these trips? Wouldn’t they both prefer it if they stopped this charade?
Then again, if Daar didn’t pay sufficient attention to his brother, Cassim was likely to act out. Daar wouldn’t put it past him to even use the laptop.
“Coming, Uncle?”
“Hm?” He turned toward Robin to find that Harper had already gathered their bags onto a cart.
What a relief.
“Yes, right behind you,” Daar said.
At least Harper could be a buffer between them all. Cassim was much better behaved with a third party present. Though Daar was beginning to suspect that Harper actually understood some of Cassim’s snide comments. It was the way Harper’s face tightened.
Why would Harper hide it if he knew Arabic?
Daar didn’t have a good answer to that.
He pulled out his phone and powered on the device. It would take time to load all of their things and get Cassim, Saaina, and the damn dogs loaded up. Daar hoped that Robin and Harper would forgive him for not helping.
Daar’s phone powered on and proceeded to beep and chime.
He frowned and examined the notifications closer. There were too many for there to not be something amiss.
Before he could assess, a phone call came in.
A rather suspicious phone call.
He stared at the name.
Obviously the name was a code. He couldn’t exactly put Maxwell Edward’s name down. There was no reason why their worlds would have collided were it not for the council.
Maxwell was illegitimate royalty.
Daar was the child of refugees.
Their circles shouldn’t mix under normal circumstances.
He glanced around before tapping the icon.
“Yes?”
“Good to hear from you, Daar,” Maxwell said in his typical, clipped fashion. Daar had struggled to understand the man in the beginning, a distinction Maxwell had used to try to paint Daar as unintelligent and uncouth.
“I don’t know about that.” He casually turned, keeping an eye on the crowd around him. “What do you want?”
Maxwell sighed as if Daar were being rude. Truth was he didn’t like to waste his time with pointless niceties.
“To the point as always,” Maxwell said. “It’s a shame this business has us on opposing sides.”
“Hm.” The less Daar said the better. Maxwell had always clashed with the chancellor.
“I’m trying to offer an olive branch, man. You’re in a terrible spot and you don’t realize it. Normally I wouldn’t say anything, but times are what they are. I fear you have drawn the ire of our mutual friend, old chap. I have it on good authority that someone is bound for New York City to retrieve some property you might be interested in.”
“What exactly is it?”
“I don’t rightly know. I was only made aware that the chancellor seeks leverage to secure your support.”
“I see. Interesting gossip.”
Maxwell began to say something else, but Daar ended the call.
What could possibly be in New York City?
On principal Daar avoided the place at all costs.
He would need to speak with Peter and Amaar, see if this fit into what they were working on. Maybe they knew something Daar didn’t?
He was preoccupied with those thoughts as he stepped out of the airport and glanced about searching for Cassim and the others. He spotted Harper heading for him and lifted his hand to wave at the young man. He must have managed to get everyone loaded.
Something jabbed against Daar’s side and then his whole body went tense. His eyes widened, and it was difficult to breathe. Electric waves seized his body to the point he couldn’t move. His muscles burned, and he tasted blood.
“I’ve got him,” a man muttered right before everything went dark.
Tuesday. Miami International Airport, Miami, FL.
Harper never saw the form of the big man until it was too late. The man stepped between Daar and Harper, grabbing the smaller man and yanking him closer.
“Daar!” Harper sprinted forward.
For a few strides, he completely forgot the plan, not that he had any idea what Logan and Baruti were up to, only that they would act. Then again, Daar was a man with enemies and Harper didn’t know who that was.
Harper shoved a man out of his way. “Move!”
From what he could see, Daar’s legs weren’t supporting him. His feet dangled and one arm hung lifelessly over the other man’s arm.
The familiar adrenaline of combat coursed through Harper’s veins. He vaulted over a trash bin to avoid onlookers not doing a damn thing. His momentum carried him over the bin, another stride and he was close enough to recognize the hoodie covering the attacker’s upper body.
It was Logan.
No wonder Harper hadn’t seen him. The guy moved like a ghost.
That didn’t stop Harper from charging headlong into his Team Leader.
Logan staggered sideways just as a second, large man jogged up. His face was covered by a bandana, but Harper would recognize Baruti’s build anywhere. The guy had the body of an NFL linebacker.
Daar dropped to the ground on his hands and knees, wheezing.
Harper reached for his gun on his hip, only to remember he wasn’t carrying.
“Someone call the police!” a woman cried out.
Logan winked at Harper then threw a sloppy right punch.
It took work to be that bad.
Harper sidestepped and landed a hard right hook directly against Logan’s side. He grunted, his bigger body absorbing the blow.
“Good job,” Logan wheezed in a voice that only reached Harper’s ears out then staggered back.
Baruti was quick to grab Logan by the back of the shirt and haul him away.
The scene was complete, and the deed done. Now to sell it.
Harper whirled toward Daar. A few of the onlookers had woken up to the incident and two women knelt by Daar’s side.
“Uncle Daar?” Robin called out.
“Stay in the car,” Harper barked at her, switching into his more comfortable role as a bodyguard.
Thank fuck this was completely his wheelhouse.
“No police. No, thank you,” Daar was practically chanting at the people now closing in.
He sat on the ground, one hand pressed to his side.
Harper went to a knee and gripped his arm. “Are you okay? Where are you hurt?”
Daar looked up at Harper. “Get me out of here. Now.”
“Understood.”
He looped Daar’s arm around his shoulders then lifted the smaller man. Harper could have just picked him up, but a man like Daar wouldn’t appreciate the undignified moment.
Despite telling Robin to get in the limo, she stood at the door watching with wide, fearful eyes.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” she asked.
“He’s fine,” Harper said. “Get in. Now.”
“Do as he says,” Daar snapped.
Robin flinched then quickly disappeared into the limo.
Harper glanced over his shoulder, scanning the area. He knew Logan and Baruti were gone, but if this were a real attack Harper wouldn’t know that. He couldn’t act as if the danger had passed.
Harper stopped at the open door. “Get in. Can you?”
“I’ll be fine,” Daar practically snarled.
The man was angry, that was for sure.
Good.
Harper got into the limo and closed the door.
Cassim gripped the edge of the window separating the front seat from them. “Drive! Drive already.”
He was frantic.
Saaina stared at Harper with wide eyes, one hand on either of the dog carriers. The pooches were blessedly quiet.
Robin was the only one who edged closer to them. “What happened? Uncle Daar, are you alright?”
“See, this is what you do,” Cassim snarled. “You ruin everything. What did they want from you? What have you done now?”
“What’s going on?” Robin’s voice climbed, she was no doubt scared out of her mind. This was not her world.
“Enough,” Harper said over all of them. “It doesn’t matter who is at fault right now.”
Cassim glared at him, but Harper didn’t care.
He turned to Daar. “Are you hurt?”
Daar pushed up and shook his head. “No. It was a Taser. Powerful one, too.”
Robin gasped. “A Taser? Someone Tased you?”
Daar reached over and patted her knee. “I’m fine. Everything is fine.”
Harper stared at Daar until the man glanced at him. Harper knew everything was fine and there was no further threat to the family, but Daar didn’t.
He slowly inclined his head, as if admitting his words were for show.
The hook was set, now to see what Daar did next.