Page 111 of Bad Attitude
Mercer’s eyebrows rise. “He’s given up his share? Why?”
“To persuade the rest of the crew to take the job.”
She nods thoughtfully. “And the target?”
“Meridian Pacific Capital.” I spin my laptop around and show her what I’ve compiled. “Clear Chinese origins. Connected to a shell company that appeared in the Panama Papers, all circumstantial. On our watch list for suspected Ministry of State Security connections. Just flagged, nothing actionable. Unusual transaction patterns filedautomatically by the bank. And named in an investigation of the Big Circle Boys. Triads.”
Mercer reads through quickly, while I wait. “MSS?” she mutters at last. “Chinese intelligence, Beijing connections. We go in on that, we’re stepping on a landmine.”
“Agreed,” I say. Renner is ballsy.
“But it’s all smoke,” she says, thoughtful, and with a lot less of her usual hostility. “Nothing to get a warrant on. And it only begs the question of why Renner’s involved. How he evenknows.”
“I asked; he put that on his contractor.”
“Who we don’t know.”
“Exactly.” I pause. “I intend to go through with it, find out what I can. I want that contractor, Diana”—first name deliberate—“and I want to know what’s in that vault that has Renner so fired up.”
She nods slowly. “This is big enough to justify your continuation. What’s the timescale?”
“Two weeks from today. Call it three for mop-up afterwards.”
“It’s in San Fran,” she notes. “I’ll get you a safehouse there, just in case. Coded only to you. A stash of weapons, wall safe, medical supplies. Usual stuff.”
Actually useful for once. “Thank you.”
“Good work, Maddox—”
She cuts off as there’s a knock on the door.
It’s Raven. I don’t know how I know, but I do.
Shit.
And Mercer just called me by myrealname.
I step swiftly to the door, pulling it open, half prepared to see Raven fleeing down the hallway.
But she’s not. She’s standing there in a black hip-length jacket and heels, her long legs bare, her hand still raised in the act of knocking. Looking as startled as I feel.
Then her gaze flicks past me to Mercer.
The change in her expression is slow, but clear. I track all of it. Her eyes snap wide, head jerking back half an inch, chin coming up. Two spots of color appear high on her cheeks. Her lips press together, then the fight goes out of her face all at once, and her shoulders slump.
“Raven—”
But she’s already turning away.
I reach for her, my injured leg forward, and it tightens at the suddenness of the move, stealing my balance and drawing a wince from me. Raven slips out of my reach, the hem of her coat flirting with the tops of her thighs. A hand comes down to pin the material in place, and I know—I justknow—she’s naked beneath it.
Her gaze meets mine and she doesn’t blink, chestnut eyes going liquid. Then she turns and hurries down the hallway toward the elevator.
Fuck.
“Raven!” I leave Mercer shoving my laptop beneath the couch, and limp down the hallway after her. Raven’s at the elevator, pummeling the button with her thumb. A sob slips out, frustration punctuated with the sharp, high note of her distress.
Then I reach her, my hand closing on her arm.
