Page 2 of The Bounty
“What if I offered an escape plan?”
By the glint in her dark eyes and the one-sided tip of her lips, he didn’t think she was only talking about fleeing the desert.
“What’ll it cost me?”
Her smirk morphed into a smile. “I knew you were a smart man.”
“Sometimes.”
“An extra day in the States,” she answered to his prior question. “A private flight up to cold and foggy San Francisco, and an hour of your time.”
“An hour for what?”
“To entertain a job offer.”
Two
San Francisco in the summer was much more Wags’s speed. Cold, dreary, and blanketed by fog. It did his British heart good and befitted the current state of his affairs.
Helping Marsh and Levi take down a transnational criminal organization last year had made him persona non grata with his employer, the Austrian Federal Police. He’d been right to cooperate with the FBI, though. They’d saved countless lives. But in doing so, they’d also ended the career of the Austrian Interior Minister and numerous others of Wags’s corrupt colleagues.
The resulting scandal had also ended Wags’s marriage. The writing had been on the wall for years, his and Philippe’s relationship crumbling under a mountain of jealousy, secrets, and unmet expectations. But being at the center of a political shitstorm, a pariah among the upper crust where his ex liked to swim, had been the final straw.
Phil had signed the divorce papers and, once their place had sold, returned to London, leaving Wags an island unto himself in Vienna. Marsh was settled in San Diego with Levi, and the other FBI agents he’d frequently worked with had relocated to The Hague. Sure, Wags could have returned to London too, but he’d left there for a reason; his return would not be welcomed.
So when Mel had cornered him at the wedding yesterday and offered an all-expenses-paid jaunt to San Francisco, he hadn’t said no. He’d delighted, even, in emailing his boss to say he’d be in California a day longer. He half hoped there would be a termination letter waiting when he next logged in.
The glass door behind him swung open, and Mel stepped onto the balcony. “Sorry about that,” she said, offering him a steaming mug of tea. “I had to scrounge around the pantry for tea bags. This business runs on coffee.”
“And yet you want me to join it?”
“We’re all here for redemption. Add better beverage choices to your list.”
He chuckled. Tea was the least of the things he needed redemption for. He began to lower himself onto a patio chair, then hesitated. “We can go inside if it’s too cold out here.” She seemed dressed for the weather, in jeans and cashmere, but everyone’s tolerance for gloom was different.
“Sit.” She slid into the chair across from him and flitted a hand toward the inside of the flat that served as headquarters for Redemption Inc. “Jax and Holt are in there talking hacker. Way above my pay grade.”
“How is that possible? You and Brax run this place.” Except her cofounder, who was also Holt’s husband and Marsh’s old army buddy, was conspicuously absent. “Speaking of, where is Brax, and is he okay with this plan?” He and Marsh were tight. Brax—and therefore Mel—no doubt knew about the torch Wags had carried for Marsh when they’d worked together.
Much higher than tea on his needs-redemption-for list.
“Okay, Inspector,” Mel said with a knowing smirk. “Let’s take those questions one at a time.” She held up her index finger. “One, Brax and I trust the adults we recruit. Everyone here is competent and brings something to the table.”
Before Wags even opened his mouth to ask why him, she lifted a second finger. The former SAC had a rep for being a skilled interrogator. Wags got it now; she had immediately taken command of their conversation.
“Two,” she said, “Brax stayed in San Diego so the kids could have a few more days together.” That tracked with what Wags observed at the wedding. Brax and Holt’s daughter had been attached at the hip to Marsh and Levi’s son, the two of them inseparable.
“And three.” She lifted a third finger, this one adorned with a giant yellow diamond, courtesy of her husband being the CEO of his family’s shipping company. “Yes, Brax agreed to this plan. We need someone on the team with connections in European law enforcement.”
“Because you can’t technically hunt bounties in Europe.”
“Technically.” Her earlier smirk returned. She’d clearly skirted that technicality before. “Especially now that we’re a licensed organization.”
Ah, so she needed someone else to do the skirting. “So it’s my arse on the line.”
She didn’t correct him. “Marsh speaks highly of you. Says you have the connections we need. And you’ve proven you’ll fight for the good guys.” She reached into her pocket, withdrew a folded slip of paper, and held it out to him. “Your reputation and track record are worth something. Your arse too.”
Her terrible Cockney accent made him laugh. The number written on the scrap of paper almost made him drop his mug. “This would be the annual?”
