Dominance Never Dies (Masters and Mercenaries #11)(112)

Ten kept his eyes on Fain. “I got some intel four hours ago about a group wanting to move a blonde American from Texas to Africa. They were looking to hire a plane and they needed a passport for her in case the airfield they would have to refuel at checked. The picture that came over the line was Mia’s. I recognized her and realized they were moving tonight when the meet spot changed from Austin to Dallas about four hours ago. You are so lucky I was already on my way here.”

Fain frowned but didn’t seem like a man who gave a shit that he had a couple of guns pointed at his head. “I got the same intel. Why do you think I rushed in here like a crazy person? Why do you think you were able to catch me at all? I give a shit about that girl. If I didn’t I would have realized the takedown had already happened and I wouldn’t f*cking be here.”

Something about Ezra. Ten had told him something about Ezra.

Ezra was a dead man.

Did any of it matter when Mia was gone? He had to find her. He had to get her back. He’d promised he wouldn’t let her leave again. He’d promised her they would be together.

“Case, sit down. You got hit pretty hard,” Ian ordered. “Charlie’s on her way. She had to drop the kids with Chelsea, but she’s going to take you to the ER. You probably have a concussion. I’ve already contacted Drew Lawless. He’s on his way, too. You understand that we have to keep this out of the press.”

He was fairly certain he didn’t have a concussion. He’d had a couple before. He was far too clearheaded to be hurt. But he did agree with Ian on one thing. No police. It was simply surprising the world around them had complied. “No one called after that f*cking flashbang went off?”

It had to have shaken the floor, rattled the hell out his neighbors.

“Your microwave went on the fritz and exploded. Just some smoke and noise. Derek sent out a friendly to explain to the neighbors,” Ten said.

A friendly would be a cop who Derek Brighton trusted. He was their DPD contact. When they needed police cover, Derek was their go-to guy. He liaised with the chief when it came to sensitive issues.

None of it mattered because Mia was out there.

And Ezra was here. Why would Ezra be here?

Something about Ezra. And Chelsea. Maybe he wasn’t as clear as he thought he was.

“I’m going to ask again,” Ian began, his voice dark. “One good reason I don’t kill you.”

Whoever had taken Mia would want money. Lots of it. He had to stay here, stay with Drew and her brothers and negotiate with whoever had her.

He was going to have to let Ian handle Theo because Mia came first. It’s what he’d promised Ian. If he was going to love Mia, she had to be the most important person in his life. He had to choose her now and always.

Ezra had been going to the top of the building—to the penthouse. That’s what Michael had said. Ezra had snuck up to the top floor where any visitor needed a passcode and there were only two residences to visit.

Michael had thought Ezra was spying on him. What if Ezra had merely been doing his job?

“I’ll give you one, Ian. You can’t kill him because the Agency would be pissed if you killed Mr. White.” It had all fallen into place just before the door opened. “He’s Mr. White. Take a picture of him and send it to Si and see if he’ll confirm it. Chelsea can’t. She would be guilty of treason if she did.”

Ian shook his head. “Simon’s under some pretty heavy contracts about Chelsea’s work with the Agency. I’ve always known he had to stay neutral or there could be trouble. It’s the only reason they’re allowed to live here while she’s working for them. But I’ll go with your instincts on this one. I’ll buy that he’s an Agency f*ckhead. He has that look.”

Ten’s brows rose. “We have a look?”

“Definitely,” Ian shot back. “And no amount of gluing poodle hair to your face can change it.”

“It’s a beard, motherf*cker,” Ten shot back.

He ignored them. Sometimes Ten and Ian were like a bickering old married couple. They should get divorced, but they couldn’t quite quit each other. While they argued about the state of Ten’s facial hair, Case had to think.

Why would Mr. White be after Mia now? He’d spent months with her. According to Mia, he’d been the one to save her from multiple near misses. If he wanted to take her, why not do it when he’d been alone?

Fain’s face went hard as he looked up at Case. “I’m going to get fired. Burned more likely. Thanks a lot, Taggart. You just cost me my career. You couldn’t handle one f*cking flashbang?”

Ian’s fist shot out, catching Ten square in the face. He immediately backed up. “Wait. That shouldn’t count. That was a professional punch.”

Ten snarled and held his nose. “It counts. You’re done. I’ve got witnesses.”

Ezra shook his head. “I do not get them.”

“Long story,” Case replied. And apparently one that was over until the next time Ten did something so shitty Ian punished him with random punches in the face. It had been interesting since Ian liked to save them for holidays, but had sworn to keep that last one for a special occasion.

Ten cursed and holstered his gun. “Fuck a duck. I’m sorry, Tag. I’ve never met this *.”

Ian stared at Fain, his weapon still ready to go. “Which begs the question why he would choose a name you did recognize.”