Master No (Masters and Mercenaries, #9)(88)

“It’s good to know you have a Dexter protocol.”

“I care about my daughters. I give a damn about their careers, their ambitions. And I take care. When I realized you were using my daughter, I traded places with one of my security guards. It’s amazing what makeup and knowing where the cameras are can do for a fellow. I think your brethren still believe I’m in Paris, and I have alibis coming out of my ass. The CEOs of four different companies will all be willing to testify that I was with them in Paris today.”

“I’m sure you do.” It didn’t surprise him that the senator had his ducks in a row. “I’m sure you’ve done everything you can to cover up your crimes.”

“I like to think I’m prepared.” He circled around Ten’s body.

Ten tensed again. The senator had a lean and hungry look. The whole day was starting to feel like a Shakespearian tragedy. “Preparation won’t save you from what you’ve done. People will figure it out. You can destroy the evidence, but it’s still alive in the victim’s bodies and it will be for a while. So it doesn’t matter. You’ll get caught eventually.”

“We’re taking care of that,” Hope explained. “I put a plant in Faith’s clinic a long time ago. I clean up after myself. That particular experiment has already been terminated.”

Ten rarely found himself shocked by the evil people could do, but Faith had made him soft. Kids. Hope was terminating children’s lives to hide her experimentations. Faith would be devastated.

“I’m going to kill you.” He would get out of this clusterf*ck and he would reap a righteous vengeance on these people. He would go biblical on their asses. Rage filled him, drowning out the pain. His sight went a misty red.

“Pass me that.” The senator’s eyes hardened as he took the cattle prod. “I think our guest is getting feisty. Don’t underestimate him. He’s deadly.”

“I’m damn straight going to be deadly to you,” Ten spat.

The senator shoved the cattle prod in his side and pain exploded through him. His body convulsed, shaking so badly he couldn’t see straight. His vision faded and a blessed blackness threatened to overtake him. He wanted to go there. He could be with Faith there.

“Don’t let him pass out,” a nagging voice said. Hope slapped him back to awareness. “I want to see how he handles this.”

There was a stinging sensation in his leg and that crazy bitch pressed down on the hypodermic needle.

His vision went hazy as they hit him with the cattle prod again.

And time seemed endless.





Faith could feel the sunshine on her face, but it didn’t move her. The sound of the ocean was never far on the island, and here in the tourist district, it was practically the soundtrack to life. It was a peaceful day with happy tourists walking around, enjoying the shops and restaurants before heading back to the resorts or the cruise ships that had brought them here.

She walked through the small market, out of the house and alone for the first time since Ten had left. She’d slipped past her father’s guards, and she knew she wouldn’t have very long. She needed to be alone, needed to process what Ten had done to her, what her father had done.

Maybe it was time to think about going back to Africa. She could sink into her work and one day she wouldn’t think about Tennessee Smith every second of her waking hours. She was fairly certain she would dream about him for the rest of her life.

She could hire someone who could help her find out what had happened at her clinic. She didn’t buy a word her father or sister had said. A day and a half. She’d spent most of that time in her room, but they’d nagged until she’d agreed to eat with them. She’d sat there and talked and they’d both been lying to her. They knew something, but if she called them on it, they would do whatever they needed to do to cover it all up.

That’s what Ten had said. He’d advised her to be quiet until she had proof.

Good advice or had he simply been covering his butt, too?

She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. There was a haunted look to her eyes, and she would swear she looked older.

She missed him. It had been not more than thirty-six hours since she’d read that file her father had left for her.

She’d learned a lot about Tennessee Smith. She’d learned he was a career CIA operative who had moved up the ranks quickly because he was both ruthless and deadly. He’d been responsible for some of the deadliest missions in the history of the Agency. He had a genius-level IQ, and according to the psychologist’s report, he was a potential serial killer. The report talked about his childhood issues and inability to bond. According to the report, he’d even been the one to kill the only woman he’d ever been serious about. He’d killed her when he thought she’d turned on him.

That’s what the report said.

She didn’t know what to believe.

“Excuse me, miss?” A deep voice brought her out of her misery.

She looked up and there was the most massive man she’d ever seen standing in the aisle. He was a gorgeous hunk of man, towering over her. He had to be over six and a half feet, and there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. He was dressed in a pair of board shorts and a white T-shirt that clung to his every muscle.

He wasn’t Tennessee Smith though.