Tuesday 22nd November
They arrived at the address thirty minutes after the meeting was due to start, thanks to Gil falling asleep in the shower. Josh had called reception to let him into Gil’s room where Josh found him—snoring his head off. Gil woke up cursing and shouting when Josh turned the temperature to ice-cold. Then he bitched all the way through the late afternoon traffic in London, until Landry told him to shut the fuck up or he’d shoot him the second he got a weapon.
Josh ignored them both as he prepared for the meeting, although the information he had to work with was about as useful as a chocolate jockstrap. Jonathan Michaels was a wealthy hedge fund manager; squeaky clean up to the point he disappeared. Not even a parking ticket. Then suddenly he was an embezzler, who’d been kidnapped, or disappeared, or worse, murdered and dumped in the Thames. Maybe Josh was stretching it a bit there. What happened? Had Michaels been juggling too many balls? Too many questions, no answers and why the hell did they have to work with a British agency, called ‘the agency’? Josh snorted again at the absurdity of the name. Usually CDR told the relevant agencies they were in the UK and that was it. As long as CDR kept off their turf the Brits left them alone.
The car dropped them at an anonymous office building in Threadneedle Street, near the Bank of England. Gil’s mood hadn’t improved; neither had Josh’s and they glowered at each other as they got out of the car. This meeting had better pan out or Josh was on the next flight home.
A sleekly-dressed young man smiled at Josh from behind the black reception desk, and he noticed there wasn’t any sign of a company name anywhere. “May I help you?”
“We’re here to see Jesse Waldron.”
The young man nodded. “Mr. Waldron is expecting you. Please take a seat.” He pointed to a couple of brown leather sofas set around three fake plants. At least Josh assumed they were fake, they looked too healthy to be real. All the plants Josh had ever possessed died within a month.
Landry groaned as he settled into the seat. “Damn, I could fall asleep here.”
Josh moaned in agreement. The sofas were better than the ones in his apartment. He hadn’t realized he’d actually closed his eyes until someone spoke to him.
“Mr. Cooper and Messrs. Grover?”
Josh opened his eyes to see a young man of medium height, with pale blond hair and gray eyes smiling down at them. “Yes?”
“I’m Jesse’s assistant, Stephen. He asked me to take you to the conference room.”
Josh and the twins followed him to the elevators. Josh was inspecting Stephen’s ass when Gil nudged him.
“Stop that,” Gil muttered.
“What?” Josh widened his eyes innocently.
“Cut it out!”
Landry exhaled exasperatedly. “Guys, not now. I’m too tired for you assholes.”
Seemingly oblivious to the byplay, Stephen guided them into the elevator, but Josh was sure he caught a brief smirk as he hit the button for level 5.
The chill around the conference table was palpable, and most of it seemed to be aimed at Josh, Landry and Gil. Josh looked at his team to see if they knew what the fuck was the problem but they both gave a brief shake of the head. Three men from ‘the agency’ faced them, but none of the grey suits seemed to want to start the goddamn meeting. Josh had mentally named them Plummy Green-Eyes, Baldy Big Mouth, and Shortass. They hadn’t introduced themselves which set Josh’s teeth on edge as he had no idea which one was Waldron. Eventually Plummy Green-Eyes at the head of the table spoke.
“Our agencies have been told to cooperate with each other.”
If he wasn’t glaring over his half-rimmed glasses and looking down his nose at them, Josh would’ve suggested they have a separate meeting – just for two. Despite the plummy voice and glasses which would have been too old for a man twice his age he was fuckable; all broad shoulders and dark curls, and the stripes in his tie matched the deep green of his eyes. Maybe Josh’s intentions were obvious because he caught Gil’s warning shake of his head. Don’t fuck up! Josh gritted his teeth and reminded himself that if he fucked this up he was stuck on this godforsaken island full of men with bad teeth, forever. “Who are you exactly?”
“It’s not important.”
“What’s your connection with Jonathan Michaels?”
“You don’t need to know that.”
Josh raised an eyebrow. “So by cooperation you mean—?”
“You’ll share the information you discover with us.”
“And you’ll share diddly-squat?” Three men stared back at him. Josh hadn’t had nearly enough fucking coffee to deal with this. He got to his feet. “I don’t think so. Time to go, boys.” Gil and Landry stood and followed him to the door. Josh opened it to find more gray suits blocking his way. He smiled sweetly, letting the edge of danger bleed into his expression. “We’re leaving.”
Plummy Green-Eyes coughed to attract his attention. “You were told to work with us.”
“The operative word is ‘with’,” Josh pointed out. “When you decide to understand fucking English, we’ll come back. Now get the suits out of the way so we can get the hell out of here.”
Someone obviously gave the signal because the goons moved and escorted them back to reception like gray oompa-loompas. On the sidewalk Gil and Landry gave Josh wary glances.
“What?” Josh snapped, hunting through his pockets for his cigarettes. He kept a packet for emergencies and now was a fucking emergency. He didn’t smoke much usually, only when he was under pressure. Today the need for nicotine was almost as strong as the need for caffeine. He shivered in the cold gray morning. At least it was drizzling rather than a howling gale.
“Dominic’s gonna string you up by the short and curlies,” Gil said, shrugging his collar up to protect his neck.
Ignoring the sign on the building which said ‘no smoking’ Josh lit a cigarette and took a long drag, feeling fractionally calmer as the smoke burned its way down into his lungs. “He’s five thousand miles away.”
“We were told to work with the Brits.” Gil pointed out.
“And we will. On our terms, not theirs. It’s posturing, is all. Remember Boston? We’re on their turf so they think they’ve got the upper hand.” Josh looked back into the building and saw Plummy talking to another man. Neither of them looked happy, and they scowled at Josh on a regular basis. “Watch and learn, boys,” he drawled.
Gil rolled his eyes at Landry. “In other words, he’s gonna be an asshole.”
Josh ignored them because the unknown guy was walking toward them.
“Mr. Cooper?” the new guy said.
Josh studied him carefully. He was probably mid-forties, dark hair graying at the wings, a few lines but enough to make him interesting. Josh predicted that he had a wife and two kids somewhere in the ‘burbs. “Yeah. You are?”
“Jesse Waldron. I’m your new handler.”
A handler? Josh struggled to keep a rein on his eyeballs and smiled sweetly at him. “Are we meant to sit up and beg?”
“Dominic said you’d be an asshole.” Jesse’s accent made it more arrrrsehole. Kinda cute.
“What else did he say?” Josh ignored Gil and Landry’s simultaneous snorts.
Waldron smirked. “Do you really want to know?”
Not really. Josh didn’t need some stuck up Brit to relay Dominic’s cantankerous instructions. “What do you want, Mr. Waldron?”
“Call me Jesse. We got off on the wrong foot. You must be exhausted after your flight. Come back inside to my office. I’ve ordered coffee and pastries as I missed breakfast too. Then we can start again.”
Josh ramped up the smile. “Let me confer with my co-workers, Jesse.” Jesse gave him a suspicious look but obligingly stepped away. Josh looked at Gil and Landry. “Okay, boys, time to play ball.”
“Or Dominic will have yours,” Gil said.
“I have two.” Josh shrugged. “Quit complaining, they’re playing nice now.”
“You’re a devious little shit, Josh,” Landry said.
“I’m good at my job. Anyone can be a grey suit. Not many can be a Josh Cooper.”
Landry snorted again. “Thank fuck for that.”
Josh ignored him and glanced at Jesse. “The coffee had better be strong.”
Jesse broke out the smile again. Shame about the wife and kids because he was a good looking guy. “It is. CDR’s instructions.”
“You know CDR?”
“Ross was one of us,” Jesse said. “I trained him in the field.”
Josh tried to hide his shock, but from the smirk on Jesse’s face he failed. He noted the same smirk on Gil’s face although Landry looked as shocked as Josh. Someone had been keeping secrets. Josh made a mental note to have words with Gil when they got back to the hotel. Keeping secrets between the team could get them killed.
Jesse’s office was small and functional compared to the conference room. Josh got the impression he didn’t spend much time in here. A couple of photos dominated one wall. Josh glanced at them then peered more closely. One was a group of men playing soccer, one of them obviously Jesse. Josh’s gaydar shrieked at him, which was confirmed when he studied the other photo. Jesse had his arms wrapped around a man, a black dog sitting at their feet.
“That’s my partner Dan, and our dog, Norman,” Jesse said.
So much for the wife and two kids. Josh wondered if he’d like a threesome.
“Any kids?” he asked. Josh never got involved in a domestic situation.
Jesse shook his head. “Never thought it mixed with my job. I was away for months at a time.”
“Is Dan in this business?”
“No.”
Josh recognized when he was being shut down and he didn’t ask any more questions. Jesse handed him a coffee without asking how he took it. Josh sipped at it and scowled because it was perfect. The Brits were yanking his chain and he didn’t like it.
“Let’s start again,” Jesse said. “As I said, we didn’t get off on the right foot.”
Josh smiled dangerously. “You’re going to tell us what the fuck is going on?”
Jesse hesitated but then he nodded. “Let’s meet the team again.”
“Do we have to deal with Mr. Plummy—fuck.”
Jesse gave him an amused look. “Tall guy? Built like a brickie? Stunning eyes?”
Josh had no idea what a brickie was, but the eyes were right. “If he’s the one you were talking to in the lobby, then yes.”
From the way Jesse laughed, Josh got the feeling the joke was on him. He took a deep breath, doing his best to keep his temper.
“Yeah, he’s part of the team. Don’t worry, I’ll stick a lead on him,” Jesse promised.
“A lead?”
“You call it a leash.”
Josh had a sudden image of the green-eyed man naked, handcuffed and clipped to a leather leash. “I can live with that.”
“I really don’t want to know what you were just thinking,” Jesse said. “You must drive Dominic mad.”
“He does,” Landry agreed as Gil snorted with laughter.
Josh scowled at the two traitors. “It keeps him on his toes.”
Jesse shook his head and led the way back to the conference room. The three suits were there again, huddled around a pot of coffee. Plummy had lost the glasses.
“Josh, meet Cal, Rick and Dave.” Jesse pointed them out in turn.
So Mr. Green-Eyes was called Cal. Josh had expected him to be a Perry or a Tarquin, not Cal. Rick was baldy and that made Dave the shortass. Rick and Dave stepped forward and shook hands with each of them. Cal stayed where he was until Jesse raised an eyebrow, then he held out his hand with a huff. Josh expected Cal to crush his hand, but it was a firm grip, nothing more.
“For this operation, Cal is your equivalent, Josh, and Rick and Dave will work with Gil and Landry.”
“And you’re our… handler?”
“I’m your Dominic,” Jesse agreed.
Josh groaned and everyone, including Cal, laughed. The tension in the room eased and Josh relaxed. He’d made their point but time would tell if the Brits were going to play nice. Stephen brought in fresh coffee and placed it in front of them. Cal sat opposite Josh, studying him carefully. Not all the tension had gone. Josh got the feeling Jesse had another agenda but he didn’t know what it was. Josh was used to being in control of the team, not having his strings pulled by total strangers. He took out his notebook and waited for the debriefing.
The screen sprang into life with the face of Jonathan Michaels.
“Jonathan Edward Michaels, thirty-eight years old. He works for Barton and Wharlow. You already know he’s a silent partner in CDR,” Jesse said, and everyone nodded. “You know the story. He went missing on October 30th and hasn’t been seen since. The police found his car by the Thames but no body. The theory was he jumped in and got carried down the river but he hasn’t popped up in any of the usual places.
“His employers discovered the money loss a week after he disappeared. The SFO, the Serious Fraud Office, are still following the trail. If—and I’m making no assumptions—Michaels has it hidden, it’s hidden deep.”
“And there’s been no ransom demand?” Josh asked, even though he knew the answer.
“We haven’t heard a thing and nor has the family,” Cal said. “We’ve tapped every phone they have, including the burners they think we don’t know about. His cards have remained inactive since the day he went missing. The last transaction was for a coffee and a sandwich at about 7pm.”
Gil pursed his lips. “So he’s skipped town.”
“And his firm is anxious to find their employee,” Cal said.
Josh snorted loudly. “And the money.”
“That goes without saying,” Jesse said. “This is a huge embarrassment for them. We don’t usually handle K&R—”
“If it is a K&R,” Josh interrupted.
Jesse nodded. “But one of the senior partners is a friend of my boss and she agreed to take it on.”
“And we’re involved because of Michaels. Fucking great,” Josh muttered. “Two security ops for one missing embezzler and none of us with the right skills.”
“Why do you need us?” Landry demanded. “We’re muscle, bodyguards. You need white collar crime experts. Hell, you need the Feds. What do you call them?”
“We might need to extract him at short notice,” Jesse said. “We are not trusting this to the SFO.”
“You’ve got the muscle.” Josh pointed to Rick and Dave. These guys could make mincemeat of Landry and Gill, despite the cheap-cut suits which strained at the seams across the shoulders. He dragged his eyes away from studying the two men and caught Cal’s sour expression.
“CDR insisted you got involved.” From Cal’s sneer it was clear he disagreed.
Jesse shot Cal a look which said to rein it in. Josh was tired. He didn’t give a shit about politics between the agencies. He just needed to study Michaels, to learn about the man who’d vanished off the face of the earth and caused this clusterfuck. He pointedly tapped his pen on his notebook. “I need more information.”
“You probably need sleep first,” Jesse replied. “Rick and Dave will take you back to the hotel.”
Josh huffed because he could’ve done with crashing two hours ago. Although he was still tired, all he wanted to do was to start gathering more intel. It was clear no one had a fucking clue what had happened to Michaels.
“We’ve got a meeting with the wife at nine tomorrow morning,” Jesse said to him. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”
Josh nodded and glanced over at Landry and Gill. “We need to talk to Dominic when we get back to the hotel.”
Gil groaned. “You can talk to him. I need sleep and food.”
Josh wanted to point out that the twins had gotten way more sleep than he had but then he’d always functioned better on five to six hours rather than the recommended eight. “We’ll talk to them on the way back to the hotel.”
Getting back in the car was a relief. Gil and Landry closed their eyes almost before the door had closed. Josh contemplated taking a photo of the two of them curled up together.
Landry opened one eye. “Don’t even think about it.”
“How the hell did you know?”
“I know you.” Landry closed his eyes again.
Josh sighed in disappointment and video conferenced Dominic at CDR. His operations manager had this look of smug amusement when they finally connected.
“Why are we here?” Josh demanded before Dominic had a chance to speak.
“Because no one is looking out for Michaels. That’s what you’re there to do.”
Josh scowled at him. “Then why’re we working on no fucking intel?”
“Because the Brits have sewn the case up tighter than their asses, You’ve met Jesse. He’s not gonna tell you anything if it affects his case.”
“I thought we were working on the same case. You know, finding Michaels.”
Dominic shook his head. “Your job is to find Michaels.”
“What’s Jesse’s case?”
“You don’t need to know that.”
Josh hated fucking politics. He knuckled his eyes, weary to the fucking bone. It didn’t help when Gil and Landry were snoring, dissonant sounds that jangled his nerves. “We find Michaels?”
“Yes.”
“Alive or dead?”
Dominic gave him a steady stare. “You bring him home alive.”
Josh disconnected the call and leant back against the leather seat of the SUV, closing his eyes. It hadn’t escaped his notice that the powers that be thought Michaels was still alive. Whatever Michaels was caught up in, it was their job to extricate him. That was their mission; to find Jonathan Michaels. And to do that Josh needed information. Not that he was worried. He would get it. He always did.