He said, “Absolutely not, Dr. Bell. Rogue Security specializes in hostage rescue, but weare notandnever will bekidnappers. I understand that you would like to motivate Tristan King, but Rogue Security refuses to take Colleen Frost, Anjali Iyer, and Jian Laio hostage for you. If you would like to discuss an expansion of the mission in any otherethicalmanner, you should contact our commanding officer, Operator Dieter Schwarz. There will be no further communication between us.” He hung up the phone and continued staring at Tristan.
A flush crept up Tristan’s face. No wonder Mary Varvara Bell had so readily agreed to rent mercenaries to rescue people who were important to Tristan. “Jesus, Magnus. Did Bell tell you to kidnap us?”
Magnus held up one finger and spoke into his shoulder microphone again. “Codenames Gabriel, Zadkiel, Camael, and Metatron, there is no change in mission. This mission is hostage recoveryonlyand is now ended. Repeat, no change in mission. Continue with bug out. You are to haveno contactwith the client at this time. All contact with the client must go through Codename Raphael.” He clicked the mic off. “Yes?”
“Who were—is Mary Varvara Bellpersonallyheading this operation?”
“No. All communications with the client are supposed to go through our headquarters. I don’t know how she obtained access to my communications, but she asked for updates twice yesterday.” His jaw set more firmly. “And nowthis.I don’t know if our CO gave her my number, but I am now suspicious of all my communications with her.”
She shouldn’t havedaredto do such a thing. The horror, the sheerhorrorof Bell taking Anjali, Jian, and dammit,Colleen,hostage to ensure that he paid up wasenraging.“She gave a direct order to you tokidnapthem to makemedo what she wants.”
Magnus spoke through clenched teeth. “I am not at liberty to discuss privileged communications with clients, but the four of you need to leave the countryimmediately.We won’t take that contract, but others will.”
Tristan gestured vaguely toward the car. “Jian is injured. He needs a hospital.”
Magnus shrugged his shoulder and spoke into a mic there. “Charlie Team three, one of the targets requires medical attention.” Then he said to Tristan, “Aiden Grier is a medic. He can stabilize Mr. Laio until you can get him to a hospital. Was he shot?”
Tristan updated Magnus on Jian’s suspected injuries.
Magnus nodded. “Aiden can evaluate and stabilize him. It’s best if you guys leave the country somehow. We are pretty close to Mexico, though you will need passports at most entry points. Wherever you go, I recommend you goquickly.”
The medic confirmed that Jian did have broken ribs but that his lungs seemed to be uninjured, and he reset Jian’s dislocated shoulder back in its socket.
Aiden took Tristan aside afterward and told him, “He’s been beaten up, but I don’t see evidence of any potentially life-threatening injuries. After what Magnus told me, I think it’s more important to get all of you out of the States.”
Colleen drove.
First, they stopped by the hotel where Colleen and Tristan had been staying and cleaned their stuff out of the room. The clothes were less of a problem, but their computers were in there, too.
They made a quick stop at Anjali’s dorm. Tristan went upstairs with her to stand guard whilst she found her passport and threw some clothes in a bag.
Colleen stayed in the car with Jian. Tristan told her to keep the motor running and leave if she saw anything questionable.
Next, they went to Colleen’s apartment for some clothes, and predictably, the Butorins had not just invaded her home but also trashed it. Her mattress and office chair had been slashed and disemboweled of their stuffing, and her computer desk had been smashed. Her clothes were strewn on the floor and kitchen countertops. Takeout boxes and leftover food had been thrown on the walls and carpeting.
Her computer monitor, which Tristan knew was one of her few splurges that made her life better, was shattered.
Colleen sighed a heavy, gut-punch exhale.
Tristan wrapped his arms around her. “Is there anything you want from here?”
She sighed again and walked carefully across the broken glass and rotting food covering the floor to her dresser, where she grabbed scraps of clothing from the drawers that hadn’t been smeared with offal.
Tristan held out his hand, and Colleen took it and walked out of the apartment without a backward glance.
He asked her, “Did you get your passport?”
She shook her head. “I don’t have a passport. I’ve never gone anywhere.”
He hadn’t even considered that possibility, but he hadn’t had a passport before he’d been admitted to the Le Rosey school in Switzerland. No one he’d known growing up had one, either.
Tristan told her, “We’ll figure something out.”
When they were back in the car, they found Jian and Anjali holding onto each other in the backseat, nearly asleep because it was almost four in the morning.
Colleen asked him, “To your plane?”
“Yeah,” he said. “We’ll figure out where we’re going when we get there.”
