Just in case.
Knocking rattled the front door to the suite.
Dieter received a text on his phone via Rogue Security’s encrypted system that his captains had arrived, but he looked out the peephole, too.
Four men stood outside, all angled away from the door to surveil the hallway.
Dieter opened the door. “Gentlemen.”
Magnus Jensen led the other three as they trooped in and settled on the couches. All were tall, muscular, lean, and bearing that easy confidence that comes from knowing you could kill anyone you wanted with nothing more than your bare hands.
The four of them lounged on the furniture as Dieter locked the door. He didn’t bother moving the chair and table back in front of it. Nothing short of a shrapnel grenade could take down the five of them.
Dieter summarized the official story as quickly as he could: thatFriederike Augustavon Hannover, a Princess of Hannover and wife of a Prince of Monaco, had been missing since the small hours of the morning. The Monegasque Secret Service wasn’t coughing up any information, and her brother and Rogue Security’s largest client wanted her found and safe. Dieter, himself, was very,veryconcerned for her safety. “We’re relatively certain that domestic violence was involved. I didn’t see any bloodstains or signs of murder, but strangulation doesn’t leave much evidence.”
Magnus Jensen didn’t flinch, his ice blue eyes as steely as ever, but Eian Summerhays, leaning forward with his elbows braced on his knees, winced.
Eian was a blue-eyed Northern Irishman who had served in the British SAS as a paratrooper and underwater specialist. His experience in infiltration had already come in handy during Rogue’s operations, but he had a soft spot for women, children, and dogs in peril, maybe too much of one.
Eian had been highly recommended by the man on the right side of the couch, Aiden Grier, a ginger Scot with no past that could be spoken of.
The last of Dieter’s captains, Aaron Savoie, was former Israeli Mossad and Sayeret, the special forces division of the Israeli Defense Force. The darkness in his eyes could have been mistaken for sadness, as if he had seen too much in his thirty years. It was true that Aaron had lived through enormous tragedy, but his dark eyes were deep pools that hid the rage Dieter had seen emerge when Aaron needed to fight.
Dieter said, “We need to watch the Monegasque Secret Service to see if they’ll lead us to her. If they do, we need to get ahead of them and keep her away from them. If she’s not already dead, they may have orders to finish the job.”
At that, even Magnus raised his dark eyebrows. “I’ll take that. I’d love to punch that prick Quentin Sault in the face.”
Not if Dieter had the chance to do it first. “We’ll need to secure a location because she might be headed there: her lawyers’ office in Paris. I want several men on that office, ready to stand with her if she shows up. Monaco will doubtlessly be watching it, too. I need to know who all their officers are, where they are, and how we can neutralize them if she does show up there. We can extract her at that time to a safe house.”
Aaron Savoie, the Israeli, raised his hand, indicating dibs on Paris, and wrote a short note on a small pad of paper. He was a man of few words.
“So, what do I get, Chief?” Eian Summerhays asked.
“Liaise with Wulfram von Hannover,” Dieter said.
“That’s it? Just relay messages? You set him up with secure communications months ago.”
“I have intelligence that Monaco has turned a person inside Wulfram’s camp. We’ve got a traitor. If Flicka has been kidnapped rather than walked away on her own, it is exceedingly likely that the next target might be Wulfram or his wife, Rae Stone-von Hannover.”
Eian asked, his voice light with his Irish accent, “Isn’t she—um—in the family way?”
When you employed a bunch of guys who used to be spies, they learned stuff that they probably shouldn’t.
“Off the record, yes.” Which meant Eian had a pregnant mother to take care of, which meant Eian would be in peak form absolutely every moment, which was exactly what Dieter needed between the Hannovers and whomever Monaco had inside theWelfenlegion.“So you’ll take good care of them, right?”
“Jesus Christ.” Eian looked stricken, but Dieter knew that he would get over it and be the most diligent of bodyguards.
“And me?” Aiden Grier asked, his Scottish burr thickening even those two words.
“Undercover in Monaco,” Dieter told him. “Infiltrate the Prince’s Palace and be near him in case we need a man on the inside, there.” Two could play at the game of placing moles inside security perimeters. “Conduct surveillance and report intelligence. Be ready to intervene if they show up there with her, take her into our custody, and protect her there.”
Aiden nodded. “Aye, sounds like fun.”
Aiden Grier’s usual idea of fun involved mopping up copious amounts of blood afterward. Dieter repressed a shudder.
They strategized for a few minutes and then divvied up other Rogue Security personnel for other assignments.
Dieter’s four captains left his suite with more spring in their step, though whether it was mere adrenaline or actual bloodlust, he couldn’t tell. “Magnus, hold up a moment?”
