Or hunted for the rest of your life.
Kross had taken a room at a small hotel in Port de Sóller earlier in the day, just in case. It had been the right call. On his way to the hotel, he ran a mini surveillance detection route, half expecting to be intercepted. Mallorca wasn’t a place used to gunfire and dead bodies. The police wouldbe crawling all over town within minutes. There would be roadblocks and plainclothes officers posted everywhere. He had to get to the hotel quickly and find a way to dispose of the rifle.
And the Glock too.
He’d have to stay in Port de Sóller for a few days at least. Until things quieted down a bit. That meant he’d probably never see Mia again.
He sighed.
Despite what he’d felt earlier when he’d taken position inside the sailboat’s cabin, maybe it was time for him to call it quits. He’d had a good run. Better than most, to be honest. His numerous contracts with Blackstone Security had paid well, and though he wasn’t a rich man, he had more than enough to live comfortably for the rest of his life.
No more risks. No more close calls.
Once he was confident that he hadn’t picked up a tail, Kross entered the modest three-star hotel where he had booked a room. Having checked in earlier, he crossed the lobby without stopping by the reception desk. He took the stairs to the fourth floor and walked down the hall, thinking of Mia.
He’d only known her for a day or so, and while he was at least ten years her senior, she hadn’t seemed to mind. He could see himself settling down with someone like her somewhere in Europe. For him, it would certainly not be the white-picket-fence version of settling down, but something close enough. He could tell that Mia was clever, intuitive, and that underneath her playful exterior there was ... something else. And he wanted to discover what it was.
He would text her after he had updated Verena. He’d tell Mia that something had come up and that he’d be back in a few days. In the meantime, she could stay in his room if she wanted, all expenses paid.
How can she say no to an offer like that?
Kross smiled as he slid his key card into the lock, then he stepped inside his room. He shut the door, locked it, then switched on the light. A soft glow spilled from the two bedside lamps.
He froze.
Mia was sitting on the bed, one leg crossed over the other, smiling. She wore a black baseball cap pulled low; every strand of her hair was tucked neatly beneath it. A silky camisole clung to her frame, paired with fitted jeans.
She looked casual. Relaxed. And completely out of place.
“Surprised to see me?” she asked.
It wasn’t her words that made his gut twist, but the suppressed pistol in her hand.
He staggered back, stunned. “What—”
But he never finished. Two bright flashes exploded in front of him.
And then nothing. Just blackness.
Chapter Fifteen
Port de Sóller
Mallorca, Spain
Mia Hernandez stood over the lifeless body of Maximilian Kross, who had landed face down on the floor of the hotel room, and calmly fired a security round into the back of his skull. His head jerked once.
Fifteen.
She lowered the pistol, its suppressor still warm. She relieved Kross of his room key and pocketed it. He had been a fair lover, but she’d had better. Much better, if she was to be honest. But it wasn’t only Kross’s performance in bed that had been disappointing. His lack of common sense and situational awareness was almost shocking. She was sure there was a time when Kross had probably been a top operator, but time caught up with everyone, didn’t it? In her professional opinion, Kross had been running on faded instincts. Why else had he let her get so close to him?
Her orders had been clear. Assess and report.
This morning, after he had left the luxurious suite for what ended up being his final operation, Mia had transmitted her assessment and recommendation to Operations. They hadn’t waited long to authorize the kill. She thought it was the right call. Kross was slipping. And that couldn’t be allowed.
Contractual or not, Kross knew things. After the great work he’d done in Manchester, he’d become privy to operational details that couldn’t be permitted to live in the memory of a man who was no longer sharp. His work had been valuable, but like any tool dulled by time, Kross had become a liability.
At least he went out with a win,she thought, hoping that one day she’d be given the same opportunity.
