Hidden Impact (Safeguard #1)
Piper J. Drake
Chapter One
“I need your services. Whatever they cost, I’ll figure out how to pay...somehow.”
Gabriel Diaz scowled and didn’t bother looking at the latest person to approach him, instead keeping his attention on the crowded room. He figured the slight woman was minimal threat to anything but his temper. “Look, lady, I don’t know what you think you’re trying to get, but I guarantee you I’m not into whatever you have in mind.”
Jesus, this celebrity bodyguard gig was getting old. Fast. He’d had so many propositions tonight from plastic women as shallow as they were vain, he couldn’t stand another whiff of expensive perfume. And he only had himself to blame.
He’d been the one to insist their team take on the easy jobs in the downtime between their real engagements. It kept a steadier flow of income for their private military contracting business, and the executive-level connections had an even more significant value than simple dollar signs. That being said, he’d overestimated his tolerance for the glitzy after-parties this particular client liked to throw. And apparently everyone from the socialites to the groupies hot enough to be allowed into the party were partaking of the food, booze and eye candy. Personal security included.
Course, they didn’t use the business terms. No. They all whispered a different word behind their hands. Mercenaries.
Whatever. He could give a flying...
“N-no. I mean...w-what I...”
He gritted his teeth. Why couldn’t she take a hint and bug out? He was going to be forced to send her away crying or some shit. “What you need to do is take yourself off to find another man.”
There was a sharp intake of breath. Good. Maybe she’d finally go and warn off other hopefuls too.
“What you need to do is hear me out.” Steel edged her voice now, and maybe a bit of desperation.
It was the former, not the latter, that made him take a real look at her.
Her eyes caught him first. Deep emerald green. Shocking, actually, set in a delicate Asian face framed by a cascade of hair so black the lighting caught blue highlights. Her features were naturally beautiful, accented with a minimal amount of makeup. Very different from the majority of the people in attendance, regardless of gender.
Color leached from her face as she must have realized she had his full attention. But she didn’t back away or break eye contact. Good for her. Lesser men had balked when Gabe had stared them down.
“My little sister is missing.” The edge was gone from her words but the desperation was still there.
Anger washed away. Damn. “I’m sorry, miss. But the police are the people to contact.”
Political targets, reporters and prisoners of war were the kidnap victims private military might be contracted to locate and retrieve. The kind of people held for ransom in places so far off the radar, even sunlight might not find them. And those weren’t his team’s specialty.
The woman in front of him was a normal civilian. Willowy, slender. The thought of a little sister conjured up images of some tiny waiflike kid. He and his partners were heavy hitters, not the kind of people you sent in to do anything but cause strategic destruction. They went into hot spots overseas and did the things politicians didn’t admit to knowing about at these glitzy events, things a US uniform wouldn’t be doing. Delicate, gentle—the sort of handling a traumatized girl retrieved from a kidnapping situation would need—was not their forte.
The older sister shook her head. “I’ve spoken to the police and the US Embassy. No one will do anything, not yet. And by the time they believe something’s actually wrong, I might never find her.”
Missing persons cases were tough. She was right about the time crunch. There was only a short window before the abducted was more than likely dead. Considering what could have already happened, death might not be the worst thing either.
Definitely not going to add to what this woman was already imagining. Hopefully she didn’t know what could happen.
“You’d do better hiring a private investigator.” He drew his eyebrows together, tried not to let the urge to squirm under her very direct stare show. Damn. Give him vapid groupies and a clueless entourage and he had no problem staring them down. This woman, it was like she could see straight through him and know how much he didn’t want to cause a scene at this very moment. There was nothing good he could do for her.
“A private investigator doesn’t have the international resources I think your company has. And I asked—you’re the best. Henderson only hires the A players for his events and he likes to brag about the mercenaries he has on his payroll. He wouldn’t risk bragging about you if you weren’t the real thing. If you’re not the right person to talk to, maybe you have someone else in your organization? Someone I can present more details to so they’ll understand?” If she’d whined at him, it’d be easier to tell her to get lost. Even tears.
Great, man. You’d rather make her cry than help her.
Damn straight.
But she was being reasonable and calm, businesslike without giving up any of the urgency she’d had from the moment she’d approached him. The lady definitely had experience negotiating. And their organization didn’t. The sort of strategy and the tactical strikes they made were a lot more final than any verbal agreement. People didn’t hire private military contractors like the Centurions for delicate jobs like this, not when the package was likely to be so fragile.