image
image
image

Chapter One

image

6 Days Earlier – Somewhere over the Pacific

“Tell me again why we’re going to Singapore,” Damon suggested, seating himself across from Alina with a glass in his hand.

“If I knew, I’d tell you,” she said, amused.

Damon Miles sipped his beer and watched as she plugged an external drive into the side of her laptop.

“You’re the one who opened a box with two fresh passports and reservations to a swanky downtown hotel on the mainland,” he pointed out. “How do you not know why we’re on a 22-hour flight to South Asia?”

“You’re the one who had a private jet on stand-by in Philadelphia,” Alina retorted, not looking up. “You tell me.”

Damon grinned.

“I make it a habit to keep transportation on stand-by whenever I end up in Jersey. Things have a habit of getting dicey there.”

That got her attention and she looked up with a laugh.

“You make it sound like a bad thing. You know you’d get bored if it was any other way.”

Alina Maschik stretched her arms, rolling her head to loosen her neck, a smile playing on her lips.

“I don’t think I will ever get bored with you.” He raised his glass in a silent toast. “Yesterday I was in Washington DC defusing a bomb, and you were in Maryland eliminating a target. Now we’re on a plane headed to Singapore. Not exactly a dull moment anywhere in there.”

Damon watched as she closed the laptop and set it aside, reaching for her glass of water.

“We certainly seem to keep busy, don’t we?” she agreed thoughtfully. “To be fair, this wasn’t my plan when I got back to the house last night.”

“What was?”

“A hot shower, take-out, and bed, in that order.”

Damon leaned his head back with a yawn.

“My kind of plans,” he murmured. “I should have waited to give you Charlie’s box.”

“It certainly wasn’t convenient timing. Kasim is still at large on the East Coast, and I think Stephanie wants my head on a platter.”

Damon raised an eyebrow.

“Why? She and Blake can handle clean up. It’s their job.”

Alina looked at him, amused.

“I’d love to hear you tell her that,” she said dryly. “I was thinking more along the lines of her personal struggle, not the professional one.”

Damon lifted his head again and looked at her steadily.

“And what about you?” he asked softly. “Stephanie’s not the only one who lost someone.”

Viper’s unemotional mask slid into place and she set the glass of water down with a clink.

“John wasn’t mine to lose,” she said briskly. “I told you, I’ll handle it in my own time.”

“Actually, what you said was that you’d take care of Asad, and then take care of you,” he pointed out, unfazed. “You’ve taken care of the target, but I don’t see you taking care of yourself.”

“We got straight on a plane. I haven’t had time to take care of anything, let alone succumb to pointless grief.”

“It’s not pointless if it helps you heal.” Damon sighed and finished his drink, setting the empty glass down. “I know you’re still trying to process John’s death. I also know you’ll go after the person who killed him. Let me give you some friendly advice, from one professional to another: get your head straight before you do. If you don’t, you’ll miss your target and you might get yourself killed in the process.”

Alina considered him thoughtfully for a moment.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think Harry put you up to this,” she murmured. “Or are you just taking a leaf out his book?”

Hawk’s lips twisted and he leaned his head back, closing his eyes.

“I’ve never had the patience for the kind of head games Harry plays. He can keep his psychology. I just call ‘em like I see ‘em.”

Viper watched him for a minute in silence.

“Don’t worry about me,” she finally said, her voice soft and deadly. “I haven’t missed my target in three years, and I’m sure as hell not starting now.”

image

Madrid-Barajas Airport

The private lounge for first class passengers was nearly empty this time of night and the lone occupant had the room to himself. He dropped his carry-on onto a recliner before turning to walk over to the refreshment area. He picked up a bottle of water and grabbed a copy of the day’s paper before returning to his chosen seat. A flat screen TV displayed flight information, while another one, on the opposite wall, broadcast the news channel. He glanced at the news, reading the running ticker across the bottom of the screen, and shook his head.

Moving his carry-on, he sank down into the chair and glanced at his watch. He had half an hour before boarding; just enough time to scan the paper.

He sat back comfortably with his water and his paper, ignoring the drone of the news commentator on the TV and the occasional sound of the PA system outside the lounge.

A flight attendant came in behind him and moved silently to the desk at the back of the room. The man heard him, but never lifted his eyes from the paper. No longer alone, he turned the page and continued to scan the headlines.

“What appears to have been a coordinated mass attack on the United States was thwarted yesterday afternoon when US Federal authorities seized several bombs placed from Washington, DC to Boston,” said the newscaster on the TV, drawing the passenger’s attention.

He glanced up at the TV.

“While the exact number of bombs is unknown, authorities are treating it as a terrorist attack. Salvatore Consuelo reports from New York City.”

The camera switched from the news studio to a man standing on a busy walkway in Manhattan.

“I’m standing outside the Cathedral of St. John the Divine, in Manhattan’s Morningside Heights neighborhood, where, just yesterday, FBI discovered a bomb in the back of a car. This was just one of several uncovered yesterday along the East Coast, causing speculation of a widespread and coordinated attack on US citizens. Details about the attack are not being released, but a spokesman for the FBI did state the agency had advanced knowledge of the plot and acted to neutralize the situation.  If the attacks were successful, they would have occurred on Palm Sunday and, at least here in New York City, there was a large crowd gathered for an event celebrating the launch of Holy Week. Other cities were also targeted with Philadelphia, Washington, DC, and Boston confirmed, but the number of bombs remains undisclosed. So far, no one has claimed responsibility for the attempted attack.”

The passenger stared at the TV, the paper in his hands forgotten. Multiple cities? And Philadelphia was one of them?

He lowered his eyes to the paper again, staring at it blindly as thoughts swirled around his head. A terrorist attack on US soil had been foiled at the last minute, and one of the country’s top assassins just happened to be in the Philadelphia area this week.

Viper.

The name was like poison, echoing like a death knell in his ears. When it passed the lips of the dying man in a hospital bed four days ago, he didn’t believe it at first. What would an FBI agent know about an assassin of Viper’s caliber? How would he even know the name? So few did. It was impossible, or so he thought at the time.

He changed his mind a few moments later when he passed a stranger in the corridor, heading toward the room he himself had just vacated. When he turned back to look, he met cold, dark eyes that shot a warning clear through him. In that instant, he knew he was staring at the mysterious and illusive Viper.

It was not impossible.

The man’s lips tightened grimly. He’d heard whispered tales about the infamous assassin. They all had. The US government’s elite assassin had reached almost god-like status in the underworld. They said she never failed. Viper had a 100% success rate. There were others, most notably one they called Hawk, but Viper became notorious the moment her own government put out a contract on her.

The passenger shook his head. He didn’t normally listen to rumors, but the contract had been real enough. He received it himself, reading it before the offer was rescinded a few hours later. Talk at the time was that she had already been terminated when the contract went out. Clearly it wasn’t true. She was alive and well. He’d seen her four days ago.

What the hell did the FBI agent have to do with her?

“Sir? I can board you now if you’d like,” the flight attendant said, breaking into his thoughts.

The passenger snapped his attention back from his thoughts to find the newspaper crumpled in his fists. He released his hands, folding the paper before standing and tucking it under his arm. He picked up his bag and nodded to the attendant.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

The attendant nodded and waited for him to present his passport and boarding pass. The man watched as he was checked into the flight, then took his papers back with a nod before turning to walk out of the lounge and into the long corridor leading to his gate.

In the intervening days since the hospital, he’d managed to convince himself that he imagined it. That the look from the stranger was just a look from a stranger, and the man was delusional with pain killers when he whispered the name. He even began to relax, and stopped looking over his shoulder. After all, why would an international assassin be on US soil to begin with?

A foiled terrorist attack changed all that. If Viper was working, and her target led her to the United States, she would follow. They were trained to stalk their targets, and it didn’t matter where. If the target went, they followed.

Once again, the passenger pressed his lips together grimly. He wasn’t arrogant enough to think an assassin as skilled as Viper wouldn’t recognize him. She had looked straight at him, and his whole body had reacted with warning to the look in those eyes. There was no way she could possibly know who he was, but even so, it was dangerous just to have been seen by her. They were professionals, and professionals didn’t forget a face.

Who was the FBI agent to her? That was the key. If he could find out how she knew the man in the bed, he could begin to understand just what he had gotten into when he took the job that landed him in the same hospital as Viper. Then he just might have a chance of avoiding the impending doom looming over his head with every step he took.

The man in the bed. He was the key.

image

Seletar Airport, Singapore

Alina glanced at her watch as she strode through the crowds, a messenger bag slung across her body. The swarms of travelers were familiar and comfortable to her, concealing her in their midst as thoroughly as camouflage in the jungle. The positions of the security cameras had already been noted, and Viper moved through the airport quickly, seamlessly avoiding each camera with timing and precision. It was second-nature to her, something she did automatically. As far as CCTV was concerned, she was invisible.

She and Damon had parted company on the tarmac after leaving the plane. He went into the airport first, heading for the car rental desk to procure transportation. She held back for a few minutes before following and turning in the opposite direction. They would meet at the car.

Alina felt her phone vibrate in her back pocket and she pulled it out, glancing at the screen. Stephanie again. This was the fourth call in twenty-four hours. Pressing her lips together, Alina slid the phone back into her pocket. She felt just enough guilt at leaving without a word that she would send her old friend an email once she got to the hotel. She just wasn’t sure what she would say. How could she explain disappearing just when Stephanie needed her the most? The truth was out of the question, yet nothing else could possibly be acceptable.

Why does everything have to be so complicated? she wondered, side-stepping a toddler who darted in front of her without breaking stride. She missed the days when she was answerable only to herself.

Viper glanced up as she turned the corner. The doors were ahead. She pulled the clean phone she used to communicate with Damon out of her jacket pocket and texted him. Suddenly she just wanted to get out of the crowds, and to their hotel where she could shower and take a few minutes to think. So much had happened in the past week, and Alina had the sinking feeling it was just getting started.

image

Damon dropped his bags into the trunk of the sedan and closed it, glancing at his watch as he moved to the driver side door. Alina should be exiting the airport. When they landed over an hour ago, they tossed to see who would get the car and who would ensure there were no surprises waiting in the airport. He won.

Sliding behind the wheel, Damon grinned to himself. Before he strode away from her on the tarmac, Alina warned would get her own transportation if he showed up with a compact roller skate. He started the engine. He assumed a brand-new Audi would be acceptable. 

Damon backed out of the parking spot and the smile left his lips. Traveling in a pair was more complicated than he had anticipated. He could count on one hand the number of times he and Alina had traveled together, and on those few occasions they always parted company as soon as they landed. Staying together presented a whole new set of challenges. They couldn’t simply disappear. They had to coordinate together and, while they were on the same page as far as their security habits were concerned, it was a challenge working with another person. Hawk shook his head. This was only going to get more complicated before it was over.

But he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He puzzled over the thought briefly as he waited in the line of traffic leading to the exit doors of the airport. He was surprisingly comfortable with the fact that he just flew halfway across the globe with Viper, without knowing why Charlie had sent them to Singapore. A month ago he was in Tbilisi‎, Georgia, with no idea he would be summoned to join Viper in the States. Hell, he didn’t even know she was stateside again. The last he’d heard she was in Cairo. A single message from Harry changed all that.

Now Charlie had changed it again.

Damon inched forward, watching the doors of the airport. Passengers flowed out in waves, getting into taxis lined alongside the curb. Now everything had changed. He shook his head, still trying to wrap his mind around all that happened in the past week. One thing was certain, there was no turning back now. For better or worse, he and Viper were in it together for the long haul. His lips curved. She might not fully accept it, but there was no going back to the way things were. The faint smile was short lived, and Damon sobered quickly.

He had her now, and he would die before he let her go.

The clean phone in his pocket vibrated and he pulled it out, glancing at the screen. She was on her way out. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he pulled over, cutting off a slow, lumbering bus. He had just come to a stop at the end of the curb when he saw her emerge from the building in the middle of a crowd of chattering tourists. Her messenger bag was slung across her body and her duffel was tossed over one shoulder. Damon watched as she turned to look in his direction and started toward the car.

Why did Charlie have her traveling again?

The thought popped into his head as he watched her weave through the crowds toward the car. Two weeks ago, she was pursued across Europe by enemies who shouldn’t have known she even existed. Charlie sent her home to lie low while he tried to determine if they had a security leak. As far as Hawk knew, that leak was still concealed in Washington.

A troubled frown drew Damon’s eyebrows together. What was important enough to risk Viper’s cover again? And how the hell was he going to protect her?

image

“I guess Charlie isn’t worried about us keeping a low profile,” Damon said, stepping out onto the balcony.

Alina smiled, turning her head from where she stood at the iron railing overlooking the water. They had checked into the hotel an hour before to find a balcony suite with a stunning view of the bay had been reserved for them. Damon dropped his bags and disappeared to examine the hotel, leaving her to the luxury of their room. After a long, hot shower, she was feeling refreshed and more human. The sun had set, and the lights glittered brightly against the dark waves below.

“I’m not complaining.” 

Damon walked up behind her, slipping his arms around her and looking at the view.

“Why do you think he did it?”

Alina leaned her head back on his shoulder, gazing out across the water. The air was heavy with the scent of flowers from the many trees in bloom around the city, and the breeze blowing off the bay was gentle. She took a deep breath and felt the tension flow out of her.

“I don’t know,” she said slowly. “I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough. He didn’t say anything when he gave you the box?”

“Not a word.”

They stood in comfortable silence for a few moments, staring out over the water. The pressure of the past week faded into the distance and a feeling of contentment washed over her. Suddenly she didn’t care about the events that had led them here, or the terrorists still at large in the United States. All that mattered was that, for the first time, she was standing on a balcony in a foreign city, and was not alone. How many times had she unwillingly longed for Hawk to be with her, overlooking one city in a line of many? Now here they were, his arms wrapped around her, with the exotic beauty of Singapore surrounding them.

Alina was loathe to move, reluctant to break the spell.

“Have you ever been here?” Damon asked. His voice was soft, as if he too was unwilling to disturb the moment.

“Once, a few years ago.”

“It’s one of my favorite cities,” he said. “I wish I got here more often.”

Alina smiled.

“It’s beautiful. You can give me a tour while we’re here.”

Damon tightened his arms around her and dropped a kiss on the side of her neck.

“I’d love to,” he whispered. “I’ve wanted to show you my cities for a long time.”

Alina turned in his arms and raised her eyes to his. They were like cobalt sapphires. She slid her arms around his neck.

“What other cities do you love?” she asked. “What would you show me?”

Damon smiled and rubbed his nose against hers.

“I’d start with Amsterdam. You told me once you’d never been.”

“That’s still true. I don’t get into Europe as much as I’d like. Charlie seems to prefer me in the Middle East these days.”

“You’re effective there, just as I’m effective in Russia and the Baltic region.”

“With this long hair, you fit right in,” Alina said, toying with it. “Where else?”

His smile was slow and wicked.

“Lima, Peru. You didn’t stay long last time.”

Alina burst out laughing.

“Ouch.”

“Istanbul is on the short list,” he continued, “and, of course, Moscow. What about you? Where would you take me?”

Alina thought for a moment.

“It’s not a city,” she said hesitantly.

Damon raised an eyebrow, his eyes probing hers.

“Where then?”

“Montpellier, in the South of France.”

Damon stared at her, fascinated.

“The South of France?”

“I lived there for a few years,” she told him, surprising him. “I often went across the channel to Cornwall.”

Damon smiled softly.

“France it is,” he murmured, brushing his lips against hers. They lingered, and by the time he raised his head, they were both breathless. “We’ll start with Singapore, then work our way around the world.”

Alina inhaled deeply and lost herself in those deep blue eyes, content to dream of a future that was far from guaranteed.

“It’s a plan,” she agreed, “but first, I’m starving. What are we doing about dinner?”

Damon pulled her tighter against him and lowered his lips to hers again.

“I think room service.”