Forged in Steele (KGI 7)

“Stay on it,” Steele ordered. “Baker, you stay with Maren. I don’t care what goes down, you do not leave her, and if shit goes south, you cover her and get her the hell out of here.”

“You got it,” Baker replied.

Steele waited at the bottom of the steps of his porch and watched as Hancock slowly made his way up the drive. His gait was different. He was moving stiffly, as though each step were painful.

When he got closer, Steele could see why.

Someone had beat the shit out of the man.

Hancock’s face was swollen and battered. His lip was split, and dried blood matted his hair. It was obvious he hadn’t even had enough time to clean up before coming here. Steele had a thousand questions, number one being how the fuck Hancock knew where to find him. If Rio had leaked that kind of information to his former teammate, Steele was going to kick his damn ass all over Belize.

“What the hell happened to you?” Steele asked bluntly when Hancock was just a few feet away.

“Caldwell has lost his shit,” Hancock said, not mincing words. “Where is Maren? Is she safe with you?”

Steele’s gaze narrowed and he pressed his lips into a thin line.

Hancock sent him a weary stare. “Look, we don’t have time to fuck around and have a pissing match over territory and who has the bigger dick. There’s a lot you need to know and fast. Maren isn’t safe and you need to know what you’re up against.”

“So you’re here to warn me,” Steele said, one eyebrow cocked upward.

“Believe what the fuck you want. Do you want the intel or not?”

Steele stared a long moment and then slowly nodded. Then he turned, gesturing toward the door. “Stand down,” he said into the radio. “He’s coming in, but maintain your position.”

As he opened the door he fixed Hancock with a fierce glare. “You do anything to frighten or upset Maren and I’ll make whoever did that to you look like an amateur. Got it?”

Hancock nodded. “Despite what you may think of me, I have no desire to see an innocent person hurt. I have an objective. Something you should understand. Succeed at all cost. Nothing gets in the way.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Steele said in a deadly soft tone. “If you’re trying to compare yourself to me to ease your conscience, that’s bullshit. I don’t use innocent people to achieve my objective.”

Hancock pushed in until he and Steele were nose to nose, neither backing down.

“Tell me something, ice man—yeah, I know what they call you—if there was a threat to Maren, if your objective was to keep her safe, would you give a damn who you hurt to achieve that goal? Would you give a damn who you had to use, or what you had to do to keep her alive?”

Steele stared back, unable to respond, because Hancock was dead on. Steele would do anything to protect Maren and keep her from harm. And he wouldn’t give a damn who he hurt in the process.

“So what’s your Kryptonite, Hancock?” Steele murmured. “What’s your motivation for your relentless pursuit of your goal? You used Grace. You used Maren. What’s driving you?”

Hancock’s gaze became shuttered and he stiffened. “We’re wasting time on useless bullshit.”

Steele knew he’d hit a sore spot, and yeah, who really gave a fuck what motivated Hancock. If he had intel that Maren was in danger, Steele damn well wanted to know about it.

As soon as they entered the living room, Maren gasped, her eyes widening in alarm when she saw Hancock. He didn’t know if it was because she feared his arrival or if she was shocked over his appearance.

He soon had his answer when Maren shoved by Baker and hurried up to Hancock.

“What on earth happened to you?” she demanded.

As she spoke, she reached up, probing one of the lacerations to his scalp.

“This needs stitching and it looks like your nose is broken. Did Tristan do this? Is it because you helped me get away?”

Hancock looked bemused by the rapid-fire questions and even more befuddled that Maren seemed concerned about him. He reared back so his head was out of reach.

“I have a lot I need to tell both of you,” Hancock said, looking between Maren and Steele.

“Well, you can tell us while I stitch those wounds. Steele, you have a med kit. Can you send Baker for it? Surely you have a suture kit.”

Steele swallowed back the smile that threatened. There was nothing remotely amusing about the situation, but he found it hilarious that Maren was barking orders like a seasoned drill sergeant and didn’t seem the least intimidated by Hancock.

Baker hurried to get the med kit and then Steele dismissed him to take watch with the others.

Moments later, Hancock was sitting on one of the stools at the bar in the kitchen while Maren focused intently on stitching his wounds.

“You need to watch your six,” Hancock said to Steele as Steele stood close by. No way Steele was leaving Maren with Hancock without Steele Velcroed to her side. “Caldwell has lost his shit.”

“Yeah, you said that already. But what does that mean? Did you shut him down? Why are you here and not wherever he is?”

“The entire situation was FUBAR,” Hancock said in disgust. “Caldwell went off the deep end after I got Maren out. Before, he played it cool. I was never in favor of him taking Maren. He could have hired anyone to do what he wanted her to do. I knew he had the hots for her, but I didn’t realize the full extent of his obsession.

“I kept Maren with us because I wanted to appease Caldwell and keep him focused on the deal he was working with the guy I’m after. Caldwell was just a means to an end. I was counting on him to lead me to Maksimov.”

“Whoa, wait a minute. Ivan Maksimov? The Russian?”

“I see you’ve heard of him,” Hancock said.

“Stay on it,” Steele ordered. “Baker, you stay with Maren. I don’t care what goes down, you do not leave her, and if shit goes south, you cover her and get her the hell out of here.”

“You got it,” Baker replied.

Steele waited at the bottom of the steps of his porch and watched as Hancock slowly made his way up the drive. His gait was different. He was moving stiffly, as though each step were painful.

When he got closer, Steele could see why.

Someone had beat the shit out of the man.

Hancock’s face was swollen and battered. His lip was split, and dried blood matted his hair. It was obvious he hadn’t even had enough time to clean up before coming here. Steele had a thousand questions, number one being how the fuck Hancock knew where to find him. If Rio had leaked that kind of information to his former teammate, Steele was going to kick his damn ass all over Belize.

“What the hell happened to you?” Steele asked bluntly when Hancock was just a few feet away.

“Caldwell has lost his shit,” Hancock said, not mincing words. “Where is Maren? Is she safe with you?”

Steele’s gaze narrowed and he pressed his lips into a thin line.

Hancock sent him a weary stare. “Look, we don’t have time to fuck around and have a pissing match over territory and who has the bigger dick. There’s a lot you need to know and fast. Maren isn’t safe and you need to know what you’re up against.”

“So you’re here to warn me,” Steele said, one eyebrow cocked upward.

“Believe what the fuck you want. Do you want the intel or not?”

Steele stared a long moment and then slowly nodded. Then he turned, gesturing toward the door. “Stand down,” he said into the radio. “He’s coming in, but maintain your position.”

As he opened the door he fixed Hancock with a fierce glare. “You do anything to frighten or upset Maren and I’ll make whoever did that to you look like an amateur. Got it?”

Hancock nodded. “Despite what you may think of me, I have no desire to see an innocent person hurt. I have an objective. Something you should understand. Succeed at all cost. Nothing gets in the way.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Steele said in a deadly soft tone. “If you’re trying to compare yourself to me to ease your conscience, that’s bullshit. I don’t use innocent people to achieve my objective.”

Hancock pushed in until he and Steele were nose to nose, neither backing down.

“Tell me something, ice man—yeah, I know what they call you—if there was a threat to Maren, if your objective was to keep her safe, would you give a damn who you hurt to achieve that goal? Would you give a damn who you had to use, or what you had to do to keep her alive?”

Steele stared back, unable to respond, because Hancock was dead on. Steele would do anything to protect Maren and keep her from harm. And he wouldn’t give a damn who he hurt in the process.

“So what’s your Kryptonite, Hancock?” Steele murmured. “What’s your motivation for your relentless pursuit of your goal? You used Grace. You used Maren. What’s driving you?”

Hancock’s gaze became shuttered and he stiffened. “We’re wasting time on useless bullshit.”

Steele knew he’d hit a sore spot, and yeah, who really gave a fuck what motivated Hancock. If he had intel that Maren was in danger, Steele damn well wanted to know about it.

As soon as they entered the living room, Maren gasped, her eyes widening in alarm when she saw Hancock. He didn’t know if it was because she feared his arrival or if she was shocked over his appearance.

He soon had his answer when Maren shoved by Baker and hurried up to Hancock.

“What on earth happened to you?” she demanded.

As she spoke, she reached up, probing one of the lacerations to his scalp.

“This needs stitching and it looks like your nose is broken. Did Tristan do this? Is it because you helped me get away?”

Hancock looked bemused by the rapid-fire questions and even more befuddled that Maren seemed concerned about him. He reared back so his head was out of reach.

“I have a lot I need to tell both of you,” Hancock said, looking between Maren and Steele.

“Well, you can tell us while I stitch those wounds. Steele, you have a med kit. Can you send Baker for it? Surely you have a suture kit.”

Steele swallowed back the smile that threatened. There was nothing remotely amusing about the situation, but he found it hilarious that Maren was barking orders like a seasoned drill sergeant and didn’t seem the least intimidated by Hancock.

Baker hurried to get the med kit and then Steele dismissed him to take watch with the others.

Moments later, Hancock was sitting on one of the stools at the bar in the kitchen while Maren focused intently on stitching his wounds.

“You need to watch your six,” Hancock said to Steele as Steele stood close by. No way Steele was leaving Maren with Hancock without Steele Velcroed to her side. “Caldwell has lost his shit.”

“Yeah, you said that already. But what does that mean? Did you shut him down? Why are you here and not wherever he is?”

“The entire situation was FUBAR,” Hancock said in disgust. “Caldwell went off the deep end after I got Maren out. Before, he played it cool. I was never in favor of him taking Maren. He could have hired anyone to do what he wanted her to do. I knew he had the hots for her, but I didn’t realize the full extent of his obsession.

“I kept Maren with us because I wanted to appease Caldwell and keep him focused on the deal he was working with the guy I’m after. Caldwell was just a means to an end. I was counting on him to lead me to Maksimov.”

“Whoa, wait a minute. Ivan Maksimov? The Russian?”

“I see you’ve heard of him,” Hancock said.

“Who the hell hasn’t?”

“Uh, me?” Maren said, pausing in her work.

Both men ignored her.

“You’re taking down Maksimov?” Steele asked. Despite his deep dislike of Hancock, the man had balls for going after Ivan Maksimov. This was a man not to be fucked with. He was feared—with good reason. He had a reputation for being utterly ruthless. It was rumored he’d killed one of his own children in front of its mother as punishment for the mistress defying him. Later he’d sold the woman into sexual slavery and when she attempted to help Interpol agents by feeding them information, her mutilated body had been found. In pieces.

“Caldwell was an up-and-comer. Big on the scene. He quickly gained a reputation for being able to get things done. Cleanly. He gained the notice of Maksimov, and Maksimov was interested in dealing with Caldwell. It was why Caldwell was leaving Costa Rica, having reconstructive surgery and assuming an entirely new identity and relocating to Kosovo.

“I got in with Caldwell at the right time. I gained his trust and I did what I had to do to make myself invaluable to him. I also exerted a lot of influence and control over him. It’s what I do. It’s what I did with Farnsworth. It’s a gift, I guess you would say.”

“Some gift,” Maren muttered.

“It’s a very valuable gift,” Hancock said. “After a while I can control them by making them do what I want while making them think it was their idea. And it was working fine until you.”

Maren tied off the knot and then stepped back with a frown. “What did I have to do with anything?”

“He’s bloody obsessed with you,” Hancock said bluntly. “He’s convinced himself that the child you carry is his.”

She went pale and reached out to brace her hand on the bar. Steele wrapped his fingers around her elbow to steady her.

“Easy, Maren,” he murmured next to her ear. “He can’t touch you here. Remember that.”

“He went crazy after I got you out. Lost focus. Didn’t give a shit about Maksimov. Started blowing him off because he was too busy turning the world upside down looking for you.”

“Oh God, please tell me you didn’t give him any information on me,” she said faintly.

Steele slipped his arm around her shoulders, offering her silent support. He was too pissed to say anything.

“I didn’t have to. It’s not hard to find, Maren,” Hancock said in an oddly gentle tone.

Steele was starting to wonder if Rio wasn’t right about Hancock having a heart buried somewhere under all those layers of stone. Hancock was being extremely gentle with Maren, treating her with gloves on. And she’d told Steele the lengths to which Hancock had gone to reassure her when Caldwell had kept her under lock and key.

“So what happened?” Maren blurted. “Why are you here and not with him?”

“I have Maksimov to blame for that,” Hancock replied. “Well, and the fact that Caldwell lost his shit and went off the rails.”

“Spill it,” Steele cut in, impatient to get to the point.

“From the moment Maren left, Caldwell was consumed with getting her back. Nothing else mattered. He was pissed at me, but still afraid enough of me not to push me. He didn’t think I knew the lengths he was going to in trying to locate Maren. He asked me a hundred questions about KGI, when before he’d blown them off as no threat to him.”

“And what did you tell him?” Steele asked harshly. Fuck it all, but all they needed was a batshit-crazy person unleashed on KGI. As if they didn’t have enough to deal with already.

“Nothing that would get him anywhere but enough to keep him busy and occupied. With Maren there, Caldwell was less interested in dealing with Maksimov and more focused on Maren. He was very close to losing his patience where she was concerned, and I expected him to make a move any day.”

Steele’s nostrils flared and his hold on Maren tightened, his fingers digging into her shoulder.

“I had hoped that if I removed Maren from the equation, Caldwell would refocus his attention, forget about her, move on. I underestimated his obsession with her.”

Steele’s eyes narrowed. “So the great badass Hancock fucked up.”

“If I’d fucked up, I would have left Maren there,” Hancock said, coldly meeting Steele’s stare.

“Anyway, when Maren was there, Caldwell kept canceling his meetings with Maksimov, citing his surgery and that he wasn’t fully recovered. Even well after the normal recovery period, Caldwell kept blowing him off, and Maksimov is not a man you want to piss off.

“As I said, I’d hoped that if I removed Maren, Caldwell would refocus and move forward and I’d be one step closer to taking them both down. I set up the meeting with Maksimov and then that morning, Caldwell simply disappeared. I went through his correspondence, his computer files, anything I could lay my hands on.

“Then Maksimov shows up and there’s no Caldwell and Maksimov didn’t take that very well. His men worked me over and told me to deliver a message to Caldwell when and if he showed up again. It wasn’t a threat. It was a promise. Caldwell is a dead man.”

“Not if I get to him first,” Steele growled.

“Well, that’s the thing. You’re likely to do just that.”

Hancock glanced at Maren, reluctance in his expression as if he didn’t want to tell her what he was about to say.

“He knows where your parents live. It was evident he’d done extensive research on them and the area in which they live. He’s likely searching for you, but as unstable as he is, he’s likely to completely lose it if he doesn’t find you there.”

All the color leached from Maren’s face. Her eyes were huge, stricken with instant fear. She twisted from his grasp and lunged for Steele’s cell phone, her fingers fumbling with the buttons.

Steele got to her and forced her to look at him. “Breathe, Maren. Call your mom. Make sure everything’s all right. Then let me talk to her. I’ll tell your mom and dad what they need to do and I’ll have Sam get the plane there for them immediately. I don’t want you to worry. We’ll protect them and we’ll protect you.”

She nodded, some of the agitation fading from her eyes. She punched the buttons on the phone and then brought it to her ear, tapping her foot impatiently as she waited. For several long moments, she stood there, her lips drooping more and more as the silence extended.

“Mom, it’s me. Please call me back as soon as you get this. It’s urgent.”

Then she hung up the phone.

“Voice mail,” she said unnecessarily. “Oh God, Steele, what if he already has them?”

He went to her, slipping his hands over her shoulders and then rubbing up and down her arms in an effort to soothe her. “We don’t know that, Maren. Don’t panic. We’ll try again soon. Just keep it together until we know more, okay?”

She nodded, but the worry didn’t ease in her eyes.

Steele turned to Hancock. “You have a hell of a lot of answering to do. First, how did you know Maren was here and where to find me? Did Rio give you my location?”