The floor gave another low squeak. Tina would be close enough to hear every word that Drew said. “I’m surprised you don’t just want me to kill her right now.”
He heard the sharp, indrawn breath behind him.
“I won’t have another mistake on my hands. I want to see Mercer’s daughter die.”
Drew turned his head. He could look straight into Tina’s eyes then.
“Make the trade, Agent Lancaster.”
The line went dead in his ear.
Fear flashed in her eyes. “Drew, what’s happening?”
He glanced down at his phone. Had Devast traced them? And if the EOD traitor had hacked into the system already... There could be no safe place for her.
No safe place, but with him. Drew rushed toward her and locked his fingers with hers. “We need to leave now.”
* * *
ANTON DEVAST SMILED as he put down the phone. The seed had been planted. Now, it was just about letting it take root.
Drew Lancaster could trade the woman. Or he could die.
A simple enough offer.
Anton looked to the right. Dallas waited. So did his prize.
When I’m done, I’ll send you a piece of her, Mercer.
Then his old friend would know that they’d finally come full circle.
A child for a child.
Payback.
* * *
MERCER STARED DOWN at the faded headstone. Weeds were trying to grow over it, so he bent and jerked them back.
The stone was cold to the touch.
No flowers. No mementos marked the grave.
The man buried there had been gone for nearly twenty years. No one but Mercer ever came to visit the grave. He knew—he’d had eyes on this cemetery for years.
“Who is he?”
He didn’t glance back at the agent’s curious voice. He was bringing Cooper Marshall on to the case because he needed backup. The mission was going to get tough, Anton wouldn’t hesitate to kill—and Cooper Marshall, well, he was an agent who never hesitated.
He was also a guy who didn’t seem to understand fear. Sometimes that lack of fear was a weakness.
Sometimes it was an advantage.
“He was a man who got caught in the cross fire.” A cross fire that had come from Mercer. “And his death started a war that I need to end.”
He backed away from the grave. His gaze slid around the area. The spot hadn’t changed much in twenty years. The trees were still heavy, lush. A pretty spot.
Jon might have liked it.