Page 52 of Seal of Honor
Luis Mena grinned at them, amusement dancing in his dark eyes. Intel put his age close to seventy, but nobody knew for sure. Steel gray hair and a salt-and-pepper mustache showed his age, but he still had the toned body of a much younger man. Topping out at several inches under six feet, he was a thin man with stylish glasses and a surprisingly warm smile. He looked like someone’s grandfather—and, in fact, he had several grandchildren and one infant great-grandchild—but that appearance belied his true persona. That of a stone-cold killer.
“We’re leaving,” Gabe said, leaving no room in his tone for argument.
Mena stepped aside and motioned to the open door. “You are more than welcome to go.” His voice was pleasant, friendly even, and barely accented. “But I would very much appreciate it if you and your lovely wife joined me for supper first.”
Audrey shifted uncomfortably behind him at the word “wife.” Had Mena just assumed that they were married, or had she told him that?
Interesting.
But not important right now.
“I don’t think so.”
“Pity.” Mena waited until they were almost out the door before adding, “Because I know where to find Bryson Van Amee.” He smiled when Audrey pulled Gabe to a stop. “That is, if you’re interested, Commander Bristow.”
Gabe kept his face impassive, but something—a flicker in his eyes, a tightening in his shoulders—gave away his surprise because Mena laughed.
“Yes, I know all about you, Lieutenant Commander Gabriel Bristow, former commanding officer of the American Navy SEAL Team Ten, bravo platoon, forced into retirement due to an injury sustained on your way to a training operation last year in Virginia.” His smile took on an edge. “Training, I was told, that was meant to help you and your team take down my business.”
How did Mena know all of that? Gabe managed to show no reaction, but—shit. The objective of that training mission had been highly classified information. Had someone tipped him off? Was there a traitor on his former team? The idea of it left a sour taste in Gabe’s mouth. The men on that team were his brothers, his family. To think one of them could have betrayed him...
Audrey looked up at him, worry in her eyes. He took her hand and gave it a light squeeze, still making sure to keep his body in front of hers.
Which, naturally, drew Mena’s attention right to her.
“I was quite surprised to find out you have a wife,” Mena said. “None of the information I have on you—which really isn’t much, I’m ashamed to say—mentioned a spouse.”
“It’s recent,” Audrey blurted.
Jesus Christ, woman. Give him more ammo against us, why don’t you? Gabe tightened his grip on her hand, hoping she got the hint to stay quiet.
Mena laughed again, his eyes gleaming in amusement. “Ah, a new bride. How delightful. She’s beautiful.” He studied Audrey with unsettling interest. “Quite lovely. You’ve done well for yourself, Commander Bristow.”
This counted as a massive clusterfuck if he’d ever seen one. How they’d ended up married, he had no idea, but it put her in even more danger than she realized. Married meant he cared for her—and, dammit, he did—which meant Mena could use her against him. If he’d known Mena thought they were husband and wife from the get-go, he would have treated her the way his father treated his mother, coldly and with disinterested tolerance. If he didn’t care, she was not worth Mena’s time. She’d be safe.
But the fact he still held her hand and used his body to protect hers nixed that plan. Any fool could see how much he cared.
And right now, he was the biggest fool of them all.
He had to get them out of there.
Now.
Mena’s smile remained firmly in place. “Well, I suppose congratulations are in order, then. We’ll drink the finest bottle of Bordeaux in my collection with dinner to celebrate your recent nuptials.”
“We’re not staying.” The thought of sitting down to a civil dinner with this man soured Gabe’s stomach.
Audrey tugged his hand. “Yes, we are.”
“No.” He tried to force patience into his tone and failed miserably. “We’re not.”
“Gabe! He wants to help us find Bryson. How can you refuse that?”
Because nothing Mena did came without a high cost. He wasn’t offering to help out of the goodness of his heart—he didn’t have one—and his motives were most likely pure as sin. “We’ll discuss this later. My team?—”
“Is no closer to finding him, I assure you,” Mena said easily. “I’ve kept a close watch on all of you since you arrived in my country. As a precaution, of course. I had no idea you were investigating Bryson’s disappearance until Señor Miller told me this morning when he brought you in.”
“Is that why you had us followed?” Audrey asked, and no way could anyone miss the hope in her voice. “Just as a precaution.”
