“You killed Viktor, didn’t you?”
Earl shrugged. “I haven’t been anywhere near Switzerland in years.”
Her brain raced. If he knew beforehand that Viktor was going to meet with someone in Lucerne, and was able to put a trap in place, then Earl Price was far more thanone stepahead of her.Shit. Where was he getting his intel?
Once Dallas had found the malware in the files from the SD card, she’d figured that was how the attackers found her, and that the bug had been designed to determine who Viktor was meeting. Which it had been, but she’d also assumed it was Renfro Warner or Byron Chin who’d wanted to know. If the men at the Lucerne condo had belonged to Earl Price, that meant Renfro hadn’t been lying about not recognizing Natalie. Yes, he’d still killed Kerry Martin and abused all of those women and girls—something both men had in common—but he hadn’t been behind the spyware tracker, or Viktor’s death, or likely anything that had come after.
“How did you know about Viktor’s meeting in the first place?” she asked, no longer caring that she’d already given away her own involvement in the scheme. He had her dead to rights on that anyway. She needed to know where the leak originated.
Earl gave her a look of contempt. “Because I’m smarter than you, and I have better resources. You thought you could crush me, keep me down, but you were only a minor speed bump. People have short memories, and I’ll be on top again before you know it.”
Sadly, he wasn’t wrong. No one’s reputation could be spit-polished faster than that of a middle-aged white man, especially one from a circle of other high-powered men. For exactly that reason, Gretchen monitored the activities of the people they’d exposed in the past, found ways to resurface their stories and keep on top of their hidden funds.
Earl signaled his goons and walked toward the door. “You have three hours. Start writing.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
THE ONE-HOUR flight from Oakland to LAX was the longest of Jason’s life. He was barely holding it together as the plane touched down and he had to restrain himself from pushing his way ahead of the other passengers. He’d led teams into dangerous territory to rescue peoplefor a living, and he’d never been this terrified. Impatient. Soangrythat he vibrated.
And so fucking helpless with Emma at that bastard Saber’s mercy.
But soon enough, he’d have help. Todd was circling the terminals now, and would drive him directly to meet with Emma’s team. For opsec—operational security—Jason wouldn’t know the details until he spoke to Todd in person.
After an interminable wait, the row in front of Jason rose from their seats and retrieved their bags. Forcing himself to be patient, he popped a small rubbery GPS device that looked like an oversized breath mint into his mouth and maneuvered it between his cheek and molars, the same place he used to hide his chewing gum from teachers in high school. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing, but it was flat enough to go unnoticed, and he wasn’t taking any chances.
Every personal protection specialist at Steele carried them in their travel kit to give to high-risk clients.
Forcing himself to calm the fuck down, Jason waved for the people across the aisle to go ahead of him and then finally, finally followed them to the exit door. Passing an older couple that had stopped for a wheelchair, he strode up the jetway and emerged into the bright, open terminal.Jesus, finally.He pulled out his phone and texted Todd.
Jason: On my way.
After ducking into the restroom, he’d just stepped back into the terminal when two men who could’ve walked straight off Muscle Beach—if not for the khakis and button-up shirts—flanked him. The bearded white guy with short brown hair put an arm around Jason’s shoulder like they were old friends and leaned in with a smile. “Just pretend we’re buddies and keep walking. You try anything and I’ll gut you right here. You run and I’ll start taking down civilians.”
Fuck. A sudden rush of adrenaline spiked his heart rate and narrowed his focus. This wasn’t what he’d expected, but at least he’d taken precautions. The men must’ve purchased tickets in order to get past security, which meant his own team would be playing catch up.
Beardo and his partner wouldn’t have guns, but that didn’t mean they were without weapons.
Jason forced a tight smile. “Lead on.”
Any hopes that Todd might spot him being corralled by the goons was shot when they headed for the tunnel that led to the neighboring terminal. His ride would be waiting in front of a completely different building.
“Where are we headed?” Jason asked as they walked briskly along the barren white corridor. He scanned for a way out, or a way to communicate with his team, that wouldn’t get anyone hurt.
Neither of the men bothered to answer. Most of the people they passed were airport or airline employees, several of whom stared at the spectacle they made. They probably thought he was someone famous traveling with bodyguards. Certainly not unheard of at LAX.
“Hand over your phone,” the Hispanic guard with an arm full of tattoos said, holding out a meaty palm.
With a sigh, Jason slid the phone from his pocket and gave it over, watching the man power it down and toss it into a trash can. Losing two phones in a month was a new record for him.
“Is there anything else on your person we need to know about?” Beardo asked as they reached the next terminal. “Any other communication devices or weapons?”
“No.” Nothing they’d find. Suddenly, Jason was shoved into a “family” restroom, the two giants cramming in behind him.
“Pants and shirt off, now.”
Several ill-advised comebacks flitted through his mind, but he took the wiser path and stripped to his socks and skivvies, heart pounding. If they were taking him to Emma, he didn’t want to screw it up.
The tatted man did a quick, but uncomfortably thorough, pat-down and then stepped back, gesturing for him to get dressed. He looked almost disappointed that Jason hadn’t given him any reason to rough him up.
