Darkest Before Dawn Page 72

She closed her eyes, imagining resting with the angels. She could almost feel the soft brush of their wings and the comfort of their protective embrace.

“Soon,” she whispered to herself. “Soon.”

CHAPTER 34

AS soon as KGI boarded the jets, Sam pulled out his secure phone and punched in the series of numbers that would get him to Resnick no matter what time of day or circumstances. Resnick answered on the second ring, his voice wary and alert.

“Sam,” he said by way of greeting.

“Adam,” Sam returned dryly.

“Now that pleasantries have been exchanged, to what do I owe this unexpected honor?”

His voice was laced with heavy sarcasm, which Sam ignored. Needling Resnick, just like needling Hancock, was taking enjoyment where he could, but this was business and there was no room or time for fucking around.

“I’m not calling in a favor,” Sam said.

“Thank fuck for that,” Resnick muttered. “I’ve learned your favors have a pattern of me nearly getting killed.”

“You’re still alive,” Sam pointed out. “Look, what if I told you that we’re about to take Maksimov down for good and there’s a good possibility that we’ll take A New Era down with him.”

There was a strangled choke as if he’d just inhaled a drag from his cigarette and it poured out of his mouth and nostrils in an excited rush. “You’re shitting me. No fucking way. You’re out of your goddamn mind.”

Then his voice became suspicious. “We’ve been after Maksimov for years. Hell, everyone has been after that bastard for years, and no one has ever gotten close enough to him to bring him down without dying.”

“You’re acquainted with Titan,” Sam said mildly, knowing the reminder would only piss Resnick off. “Hancock in particular. And Hancock has been hunting him for a very long time. He’s gotten close on two occasions only to let him go to avoid getting an innocent killed.”

Resnick snorted. “Hancock would sell out his own mother to achieve his mission.”

“And that’s where you’re wrong,” Sam said, his voice deadly soft, suggesting insultingly that Resnick didn’t know fuck-all about Hancock. “Maksimov fucked up big this time. He has something very valuable to Hancock, and trust me when I say Maksimov is a dead man.”

“Tell me how Maksimov gets us ANE.” Excitement edged Resnick’s voice and Sam could hear the inhales and sharp exhales of repeated cigarette drags.

“Can’t promise anything, but what Maksimov has that Hancock wants is also what ANE wants and will pay a lot of money to get. The plan was to stage the exchange, take out Maksimov and then set up a similar exchange with ANE.”

“A FUBAR then,” Resnick accurately guessed.

“Exactly.

“What is it that Maksimov has that both Hancock and ANE want so desperately?” Resnick asked.

“A woman,” Sam said quietly.

Resnick groaned. “Fuck me. A woman? You Kellys and goddamn women. Swear to God.” And then as if what Sam had truly said sank in, shock registered. “Hancock has lost his shit over a woman?”

There was a long pause as Resnick took his time to sort through all the what the fucks Sam knew were circling his mind.

“Okay, so as shocking as it is that Hancock would lose his shit over a woman, what the fuck could ANE possibly want with this same woman?”

“Honor Cambridge ring a bell?” Sam asked.

“Of course. She was killed in an attack ANE took credit for. It was a relief center. Mostly Western volunteers and doctors and nurses.”

“She survived.”

“The hell she did,” Resnick sputtered. “There were no survivors.”

“She lived,” Sam said quietly. “Not only did she live, but she evaded capture for over a week. She made ANE look like weak fools. They lost a lot of face and she became a beacon of hope to an oppressed people. ANE wants her and they want her bad. ANE fucked Maksimov over in a deal. Not ever a good idea. Bristow, the man Hancock was working for undercover as a way to Maksimov, learned of Honor’s survival and sent Hancock to get to her before ANE did. Bristow wanted favor in Maksimov’s organization. So he was going to give Honor to Maksimov, and then Maksimov was going to give Honor back to ANE for a hell of a lot more money than they originally fucked him out of.”

“Okay,” Resnick said thoughtfully. “That all makes sense. Right up to the part about Hancock losing his shit because Maksimov has the woman Hancock planned to hand over to him from the very start.”

“Look, you know everything I do at this point except that Conrad, Hancock’s second, said the night before the exchange was to take place, Hancock called the whole thing off. Came up with the idea of staging the exchange but ambushing Maksimov and executing him on the spot. He didn’t give a fuck about Maksimov’s connections, what he could lead Interpol, the CIA and God only knows who else to. All he wanted was Maksimov taken out and for Maksimov to never get his hands on Honor.”

“Obviously things didn’t go as planned or you wouldn’t be calling me,” Resnick said grimly.

“Hancock lost one of his men. Several are injured. Hancock is touch and go. I don’t even know if he’s alive at this point. But his second called and asked for our help. They want Honor out of Maksimov’s hands, and they don’t care how it’s done. He’s a sadistic son of a bitch and every hour she’s with him will be hell.”

“I’ll send Kyle Phillips’s team and two others. You’re going to need all the manpower you can get. I assume you have every available man on your end.”

Sam didn’t dignify that with a response.

“I’ll send you the coordinates and I need your men wheels up in half an hour tops. And Adam?”

“Yeah?”

“Two things. We’re operating blind here, so I need every single piece of intel you have on Maksimov. I don’t give a fuck how classified it is. I need it and I need it yesterday if we’re going to save her and take the Russian down.”

“Done. The other?”

“Honor Cambridge did die in that attack. You can not leak that she lived. Not yet. If we manage to get to her in time to save her life and get her back home to her family, then it can quietly be revealed that she was rescued by a joint special forces operation.”

Resnick snorted. “As if that kind of information will ever be low key or quiet. It will be a media circus.”

CHAPTER 35

THE rural, rundown cabin in Bumfuck, West Virginia, where Titan had taken refuge smelled of blood and death. Resnick had complained that no wonder no one had been able to find Maksimov when he was meeting people in such a backwoods place.

Rio led the way inside, because he was known to Titan. Although that hadn’t saved him from an overeager trigger finger one of the last times Titan and Rio had butted heads.

Conrad met Rio at the door, pain in his eyes. “Mojo,” he choked out.

Rio closed his eyes a moment. He’d liked Mojo. Quiet but tormented like so many others in the ranks of Titan. But Mojo was loyal to his bones, and his death hit Rio harder than he would have imagined after so long.

He’d given that life up. A life forever in the shadows, always skating the thin edge between right and wrong. Sometimes, wrong was right. And sometimes right sucked. But now, seeing the men who used to follow him as they now followed Hancock brought back many of the things he’d tried to forget.

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