Merciless (Option Zero 1)

“I hope you’re right, but once you have the intel, let me take it from there. I’ll take the heat. She’s already got me in her crosshairs. No need to add you to her list of targets.”

“It won’t come to that. We can’t let her go that far. She’s gone way too far already.”

Kate was right about that. But Ash didn’t discount anything when it came to the senator. He and Turner became enemies long before Ash created OZ. Though enemy was a mild word for what he felt for the woman. It was more, much more, than that. Not being able to prove anything didn’t make the facts any less true.

Twice now, Nora Turner had tried to destroy him. The first time hadn’t been personal, but the second attempt had been target-specific. She had wanted Asher Drake out of the way. She had succeeded, but not in the way she planned. Turner might think that the third time would be the charm, but Ash was going to do everything within his power to see that the senator went down instead. It was way past time for her to pay.

The woman was an extremely influential politician with connections that reached far and wide. Ash was a man who knew how to root out intel that Turner would kill to keep buried. It was a race to see who would get to the finish line first.

“I’m getting closer on my end, too,” Ash continued. “There’s no need for you to be involved, but whatever intel you can send will only help.”

“You’ll know as soon as I have anything. In the meantime, I’m only a phone call or text away. Just say the word. I’ve got your back.”

“You’re the best of the best, Kate.”

“Keep in touch, my friend.”

“Will do.”

Ash ended the call, and like many times when his mind was on something else, he’d made an unconscious decision. OZ would take the job he’d been reviewing when Kate called. Now he just needed to talk with the operatives who would be working the case with him.

And when Jules Stone arrived, she’d be thrown into the deep end of the pool very quickly. He had no doubt that she was an excellent swimmer.

Chapter Seventeen

Brooklyn, Ohio

Entering the small, nondescript hotel lobby, Jules made her way to the single elevator. She hadn’t planned on seeing Turner before she headed to Montana. She’d spent two days in a flurry of packing and making arrangements for her indefinite absence. Then she had flown to an obscure little town in rural Virginia, where for three days she endured the requirements to become a full-fledged OZ operative.

She had flown back to Arizona yesterday, looking forward to one last day of peace and quiet before leaving for her new job. The tests she had endured had been exhausting. A grueling five-hour physical and endurance test had left her aching in every muscle, but it had been the psych evaluations that left her drained. Her answers had not been challenged, and though she hadn’t been uncomfortable with the questions asked, by the time she was finished, all those aching muscles had been knotted with tension.

She topped off her time there by getting a small implant under her left arm. As much as she needed and wanted to do this job, she was close to her limit on the invasion of her personal space. Having been on her own for so long, making her own choices and relying only on herself, this new job with OZ was going to be a challenge.

After all of that, a girl wanted to have at least one day to herself. She had walked into her house with only two things on her mind—a long, hot shower and a small glass of wine. Those plans were destroyed when the last person she wanted to hear from called and demanded a meeting the next day.

As tough as the OZ tests had been, she’d repeat them ten times over to avoid seeing the woman she despised with every fiber of her being. But that was the job. One she had worked and manipulated herself. She would do what she had to do no matter how distasteful.

She dressed for the meeting in a red power suit. Clothes did not make the woman, but they could be used as armor to hide the truth. And since almost every word that was to come out of her mouth during this meeting would be a lie, Jules needed all the help she could get.

The door to the hotel room opened before she could knock, telling her that once again Senator Turner had informants everywhere. Another reminder of the thin tightrope Jules walked.

“Ms. Diamond, please come this way.”

Lisa Steiner, Turner’s personal aide, was a young, ambitious-looking woman who walked with a bounce in her step and wore a perpetual wrinkle between her brows. Her light brown hair was pulled away from her face in a no-nonsense bun. She wore a sedate navy skirt paired with a blue-and-white-pinstriped blouse and sensible two-inch heels. Thick black-rimmed glasses finished off the serious look.

“The senator can give you seven minutes.”

Reminding the aide that it was Turner, not Jules, who requested the meeting was pointless. If it were up to Jules, she’d be in her vehicle headed to Montana.

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Jules answered. “I don’t have anything to report.” Those were the exact words she’d used when Turner had called her. Since she had been on the job exactly one day, she wasn’t quite sure what intel Turner thought she could have gathered. However, alienating the woman so soon after being hired was not the best way to ensure long-term employment. So Jules would play the game until it was no longer necessary.

The aide didn’t bother to respond. She knocked on a door and then opened it to reveal Senator Nora Turner sitting at a desk, peering at her laptop. She raised her head when Steiner announced, “Ms. Diamond has arrived.”

“Excellent. Please make sure we’re not disturbed, Lisa.”

“Of course.”

The instant the door closed, the senator stood. In her late forties, Turner wore minimal makeup and was attractive without being pretty. She was medium height and a little on the thin side. Her dark brown hair was straight and glossy and fell to her shoulders with a slight curl. Her business suit of baby blue was both feminine and professional.