We shake hands and I’ve got one foot out the door when Mala seizes me in a hug. “Thank you, Lucas,” she whispers. “I disagreed with the decision to make you leave. Thank you for being willing to come back. I know you’ll move heaven and earth to find our girl.”
Awkwardly patting her back, I say, “She’ll be coming home to ye. Keep the Chieftain from losing his mind, aye?”
She gives a wet, wee bit of a laugh. “That’ll be harder than you finding Catriona, but I’m on it.”
On the jet, flying to Morocco…
“Ye know Dubois will have this castle buttoned up tighter than the gold vault at the Bank of England,” Raul says. His dark eyes narrow as he looks over the map. The man is a genius with explosions and diversionary tactics duringextraction missions.
“I’m thinking our weak points are here, and here,” I say, pointing at the castle. “We use the drones to drop explosives there and while the main forces race in those two directions, our main force can enter through the service tunnels. They’re not used much but they’re still in operation.”
“Underground. Always, fucking underground.” Morris is a gloomy bastard who served in the Special Reconnaissance Regiment with me. He’s an excellent fighter, but he has such a severe aversion to anything subterranean. He won’t even live in a house that has a basement.
“Sorry, brother. It’s a quick run-through.” I slap him on the shoulder. There’s ten of us; most are men I served with or MacTavish security. Most of Cat’s cousins are already spread out over the globe, searching for her, but I feel good about my team. They’re all hard-faced men who’ve seen the worst of humanity… and killed them.
“We’ve got twelve hours flight-time, drive time, and reconnaissance. We’ll attack two hours after sunset.” I stand up and stretch, hearing my joints crack. “Try to get some sleep, aye?”
The pilot’s just announced that we’re about to land when Morris falls heavily into the seat next to me. “You’ve been goingover these plans for the entire flight, haven’t you?” He chuckles, “Even though we have them memorized, even though nothing has changed. You’re the same bloody, obsessed bloke you were in the SRR.”
I dinnae take my gaze away from the plans. “This is the most important mission of my life.”
“We all know that.” He slaps my shoulder. “That’s why we’re here.”
Grinning, I ask, “So that triple bonus from the MacTavish clan wasn’t part of your decision-making process, then?”
Laughing, he admits, “Maybe a tad. But we have your back. It’s not about the money and you know it.”
“I do.” Gripping his arm, I nod. “I know it. Thank ye.”
Chapter Nine
In which Catriona wrestles with her conscience, or discomfiting lack thereof.
Catriona…
In the lab, the third day of confinement…
There’s something wrong with me.
Dubois’ project is feckinggenius.
This has me questioning my own sanity.
He’s been eager to show me every step of crafting this new poison and constantly looks for my reaction.
“So, ye added in the dimethyl sulfoxide to make this a contact poison as well? That’s brilliant. Three different methods for absorption.” I’mcomplimentingthis bastard?
Though really. The chemical composition of C-1161 is elegant. A thing of beauty to any researcher.
Aside from the fact it will be used to murder people.
His face lights up with a rapturous grin. “I knew you would understand! You aresi beau, mon amour,so beautiful.”
I barely refrain from rolling my eyes, though he catches it.
“Ah, you are used to those words from men,oui?”He gestures at my breasts. “These aresi beau, of course, and your face,un chef-d'œuvre,a masterpiece. But this?” He walks closer, lightly tapping my forehead, “This isla vraie beauté, your true beauty.” He winks at me and strolls out of the lab, whistling.
Damnhim.
