Page 55 of Raven's Hunt
Buck waved it off. “I think you’re enjoying all this a bit too much, buddy.”
“Like you didn’t tease us. Besides, we’re family. We’re supposed to make things awkward.”
“Mission accomplished.” Smiling, he walked over to Tierney, slipping in next to her.
Tierney leaned back, Buck’s arm draped over the edge of her chair, his thigh touching hers. Not that he hadn’t done that before, but since they’d fallen into bed together, he rarely strayed more than a few feet away. Of course, knowing she might have a bounty on her head had jacked up his protective instincts — had them dialed up to eleven. But it was more than that. As if touching her, however casually, eased his demons, too.
She shifted until her shoulder rested against his chest, watching his teammates work, wondering if she’d ever truly be free. Her hand drifted to her pocket. Avery had met her the morning after the hunt, handed her Pike’s lighter, then walked off, leaving Tierney with that matte black Zippo weighing her down. She’d turned it over, traced the outline of the scythe, then hidden it away, afraid it might take on a life of its own. That just having it would summon more than just his ghost.
The metal cooled her skin as she wrapped her fingers around it, held it in her palm. She flipped the lid open, staring at the ignition before rolling the wheel…
Snick-clink.
She inhaled, the flint sparking before it flashed into a wavering yellow flame, a punch of heat radiating off the tiny blaze. It flickered, casting a mini-shadow on the table, reminding her of all the times Grieves had used it during her time there. How it had become an extension of his hold over her.
Buck’s hand landed atop hers before he closed the lid, killed the flame. “Pike’s dead, sweetheart. You’re not. You won.”
She stared at the lighter. “Why would Pike take this? It was Grieves’ thing, not his.”
“Maybe that’s why. In essence, he became the other man, took over his company. Maybe he wanted something tangible to link them together — audible proof he was in charge in case any of Grieves’ men thought about double crossing him. Either way, he can’t hurt you anymore.”
She smoothed her thumb over the engraving, again, then handed it to Buck. “You should hold onto it.”
He curled his fingers around hers. “You keep it. In fact, I think you should use it. A visual reminder that despite the odds, you walked out of the fire.” He leaned closer. “Twice.”
He closed the distance, planted a soft kiss on her mouth when Sloane cleared her throat.
Tierney snapped her gaze to the other woman, cheeks warming when Sloane grinned at them.
She hit a key, activated the main monitor. “If you two are back with the rest of us, I finally cracked that last firewall.”
Buck perked up. “You’ve found who sold Tierney’s recon team to Pike?”
“Not exactly, but I’ve narrowed it down to only three possible options.” She launched three profiles onto the screen. “Meet our contenders. First up is MI6 senior supervising officer Malcolm Whitmore. Whitmore approved Tierney’s one-year appointment to Interpol and had direct access to mission specs and would have known about the last-minute change to her team’s routing that day.”
Tierney stood, moved closer to the monitor. “I hadn’t talked to Whitmore in six months. Why would he sell out my team?”
“Unsure, but he retired four months after the ambush while under investigation for financial anomalies. He’s now consulting with a private security firm out of London.”
Sloane moved on to the second photo. “Suspect two is Isolde Moreau. She’s been with Interpol on and off for over a decade. She acts as an anti-trafficking crime liaison, and no, the irony isn’t lost on anyone. She had access to your team roster and your target packages. Rumor has it, she might have indirect contact with black market shell channels and over the course of the past few years has developed a morally gray ideology.” Sloane snorted. “She isn’t so sure if all trafficking is bad if it serves a greater purpose. No one’s been able to prove anything, but she’s been on Internal Affair’s radar for over a year.”
Tierney wrapped her arms around her ribs. “I remember her. She was cold, calculating, and seemed completely indifferent to whether assets got rescued or not.”
“The perfect mentality for a mole. Which brings us to our last contestant — Judson Ferris. CIA and JSOC liaison, Ferris handled all deconfliction and asset coordination for your joint mission with Nick’s crew. He’s the one who advised both MI6 and Interpol of your death, and who denied Nick’s request to continue looking after their safehouse got overrun with mercenaries. He had the means to alter mission reports and bury details and has been implicated in a ghost funding scheme to contractor shell companies, including one tied back to Grieves’ company, Grimm. He’s still running JSOC teams.”
Nick grunted. “The guy’s a weasel. Doesn’t give a shit about the men and women under his command, only whether the mission succeeds or not. I thought they’d booted him.”
Sloane sighed. “Charges of espionage had circulated, but anyone involved in bringing him down mysteriously disappeared. I’d say he’s pretty high on our list, but I’ll need more time.”
Tierney inched closer. “I want them picked apart.”
“Already on it. I’ve flagged their comms, their emails, anything that might contain an encrypted message. I’ll find which son of a bitch sold you out.”
Tierney’s stomach knotted. Three people she’d trusted, and one of them had killed her crew. Fundamentally changed her life. She looked at Sloane. “Thank you.”
Sloane smiled. “My pleasure.”
Buck sidled in beside Tierney. “You okay?”
