Fast Burn (Body Armor #4)(8)

“Yes, I was hoping that you would, Leese.”

Leese? Did she not recognize his voice?

“The men know the agency well, including all my bodyguards. I’m sure they’ll recognize you when they see you so please don’t try sending the police instead. There are to be no police. Do you understand? Promise me.”

Knowing now that she wasn’t alone, Brand said, “I promise.” He pictured some psycho next to her, manipulating her, forcing her to detail those terms, and rage worse than he’d ever known churned inside him.

There was some fumbling through the connection and suddenly a deep voice said, “Listen up, Phelps. Come alone and don’t try anything or your boss is not going to have a pleasant time with us.”

The man thought he was Leese, so he’d go with that. “Tell me when and where, and how much to bring. I’ll be there.”

Miles, Justice and Leese stared at him in strained silence. The storm raged around them with flashes of light that crackled across the black sky, and ground-trembling booms of thunder.

But it was nothing compared to his personal turbulence.

“Soon,” the man said. “Repeat any of this to the cops and I’ll gut her slowly—after enjoying her a bit.”

“Touch her,” Brand warned, “and you’re a dead man.” The call ended before he could say more.

Blood pumping fast, Brand clutched the phone and looked at each of his friends. He hoped like hell someone knew what to do.

“I’ll rip him apart,” Justice growled quietly.

Brand knew that when Catalina, one of Leese’s clients—a woman he ended up marrying—had been in serious danger, Justice had been Sahara’s personal bodyguard, protecting her against the threats that had spilled over to them all. Since then, Justice still felt overly protective toward her, even though he, too, would soon be marrying.

“He thought I was you,” Brand said to Leese, trying to make sense of it.

Proving why he was top dog at the agency, Leese said, “Sahara either put in the call or gave them the number, and she sure as hell knows the difference between us. She said something about the men knowing all her bodyguards, that they’d recognize you—me.”

Miles said, “It was a tip. She wants a face they won’t recognize to show up.”

“I assume so,” Leese agreed. “That way, when I go to deliver money, the other, unknown person will have a chance of getting to her.”

Brand ran a hand into his hair, then tugged in frustration. “She’s never let up on trying to hire me to Body Armor. Hell of a way to lock me in, though.”

Justice looked murderous. “You don’t want to do it, fine. I’ll go incognito.”

Miles scoffed. “Like anyone would mistake a behemoth like you?”

True enough, Brand thought. Justice was enormous. “It was just an observation, Justice. No way in hell am I passing the buck.” Even if Sahara hadn’t singled him out, he’d insist on it.

After all, she’d called him.

“If she’s hurt,” he said, tortured by the thought but unable to obliterate it, “if one of those bastards even touches her—”

Leese interrupted his growing threat. “You’re not trained, Brand. My best guess is that Sahara wanted me to find someone else who can fill in, but she didn’t specifically mean you.”

Digging in, Brand repeated, “I’m doing it.” Leese and the others didn’t know that he and Sahara had something personal going on, despite his efforts to the contrary. And he wouldn’t tell them. They were Sahara’s employees and if she wanted them to know, she’d do the telling.

But that didn’t mean he’d let them cut him out. The way he saw it, Sahara had reached out to him, and by God, he’d be there 100 percent.

“You don’t know how to shoot—”

“I’ve been shooting since I was fifteen.”

That gave them all pause. “You have?” Miles asked.

“Are we really going to discuss my past right now?”

“No.” Leese turned away with purpose. “We can ride together.”

“To where?” Brand asked, even as he followed into the downpour.

Speaking loud over the storm, Leese explained, “In one breath Sahara put me in charge until she’s back, and then she mentioned Enoch.”

Soaked through to the skin, Miles and Brand climbed into the back seat of an agency SUV. Leese got behind the wheel and Justice rode shotgun. As they buckled up, Brand asked, “Enoch?”

“Respect him a lot,” Miles said. “But he’s an assistant, not a bodyguard.”

“He’s a hell of a lot more than an assistant to Sahara.” Leese glanced at each mirror, then pulled onto the rain-washed road. “Remember when Catalina was taken?”

Justice said, “I’ll never forget it.”

“None of us will,” Brand said, though he’d been involved only peripherally.

“We found her because Sahara had planted a GPS device on her.” He paused as he switched lanes, then continued with “I think she has one on herself, too.”

Brand gripped the seat behind Leese. “She said so?”

“She reminded me of the ‘protocol’ for Catalina. At first, I didn’t understand, but it’s starting to come together. I assume Enoch knows how to track her.”