to capture the country’s most wanted assassin during a hotel fire that had sent him and Holic off a crumbling balcony into a burning ballroom full of screaming people trying to escape the chaos.
Three days ago he’d learned that Holic had successfully slipped through the National Security Agency’s fingers and escaped his well-guarded prison cell. When he’d heard the news he’d been so angry he walked out of Merrick’s office.
Normally he was a good-tempered guy. Reasonable, even during upsetting times. And smart enough to know that Merrick wouldn’t listen to him if he was shouting and throwing furniture.
He’d spent an hour walking off his rage, then he’d returned to Merrick’s office to discuss what action the Agency intended to take now that Reznik was once again a free man.
Seated in front of his commander’s desk, he’d asked, “Has the Agency issued a new objective?”
“They have, and your name was mentioned for the assignment. It’s yours, if you want it. But there are conditions, and additions.”
“I’m not a field agent any longer.”
“Reinstatement would be a simple formality. You’ve studied Holic Reznik’s habits, know him better than anyone. That makes you the most qualified for this mission. I want you on the job, Bjorn. That is, if you’ll take it.”
It was true, he and Holic had a history. Bjorn had profiled the man nicknamed ‘the butcher’ as well as faced him in the field.
He listened while Merrick detailed the situation. Holic had been seriously injured falling thirty feet off that hotel balcony at Cupata. Because of Holic’s many injuries, the Agency believed he would return to his homeland of Austria to heal and grow strong again.
They hadn’t been able to pinpoint where he would go exactly, but they felt confident it would be someplace familiar to him. Someplace remote and isolated. Someplace hard to reach.
“We know that before the Chameleon died, he contracted Reznik and hired him to eliminate a list of his enemies. He was promised millions and—”
“Eva Creon as his mistress to sweeten the deal,” Bjorn interjected. “Yes, I know.”
“Since that part of the contract fell through when Holic was captured, and then since his recent escape, we’re not sure what he intends to do with the kill-file or how many of our agents have been targeted. The truth is Holic Reznik could start picking off our operatives at any time. So you see how important this is. If you should decide to take the assignment, your mission will be to infiltrate Austria, uncover Holic’s hideout, seize the kill-file, then assassinate the assassin—with one catch.”
“One catch?”
“The Agency wants to partner you with a female operative from EURO-Quest.”
Bjorn liked the new objective, except the part about a partner. Still, Holic was the most reliable killing machine on all seven continents. He had to be stopped.
When Bjorn resurfaced from his private musing, Polax was still tossing out reasons why Pasha Lenova was his choice for the mission. He listened to the Quest commander while watching Nadja Stefn slip her tall black boots back on her pretty feet.
When Merrick cleared his throat, he glanced at his boss. “You say something?”
“I asked you which one you’ve decided on. You know Reznik better than anyone—which one of these women would be your biggest asset?”
“The one with the sweetest ass,” Bjorn said, knowing that next to his obsession with killing, Holic’s second favorite pastime was enjoying beautiful women.
“The question you’ve got to ask yourself, Bjorn, is which one of these beauties do you want to share your days and nights with for the next few weeks?” Merrick said. “I don’t care who or why, as long as she can do the job. So do you fancy the rain-or-shine brunette, the angel-faced actress or the bedroom playmate with the candy-cane legs and cotton-candy ass?”
“My recommendation—” Polax began.
“We know.” Bjorn turned his piercing blue eyes on the Quest commander. “Your choice is Lenova. You’ve made that clear. A little too clear.”
Polax climbed out of his chair and puffed out his chest. “As I said before, my job is to match the mission with the best possible agent. For this one you need an all-around sexy ball-buster who chews ice cubes in place of gum, and that would be Lenova. Quest is still working on earning its stripes in the spy world. This agency can only survive if money changes hands. For that to happen, my femmes need to shine on every mission. With Pasha Lenova at your side in Austria, a win is inevitable for both of us.”
“What you’re forgetting is, it’s not your choice,” Bjorn reminded. “It’s my call.”
He glanced back at the monitor. The elevator had stopped and Q’s skirt was no longer hiked clean to her amazing ass. He watched the doors open, watched her greet the two men waiting for her. She handed her red cape to the shorter man. Then, like a resilient cat who had just landed on her feet, she started down the corridor. Her briefcase in one hand, and her jacket draped over the other so that the missing button and the wrinkle across her thigh were hidden from view.
The only evidence that something was amiss was one lone silk stocking left on the elevator floor.
Chapter 2
Bjorn was left alone in the office with his choice of water or gin to keep him company while Merrick followed Polax out into the hall to take a walk. When the door closed, he reached for the gin, ignoring the early hour.
He hitched his ass back on the desk, sipped the gin and spent the next twenty minutes cooling his heels, watching and waiting, and keeping his ears on what was being said inside the sterile boardroom between the curvy femmes.
He was conscious of his eyes going back to Nadja more often than the others. That was understandable—he liked natural blondes with long legs and cleavage.
Quest’s bedroom assassin had the winning three. There was no reason to argue that point, nor would he. Q’s body type, her voice and the way she moved had already been logged into his subconscious.
A profiler’s best friend was his database memory, and he had one. Onyxx had, however, refined his talent. They had polished his telephoto memory and added instant-recall capabilities.
Like Q, he was at the top of his game, although he was willing to bet she was enjoying her work far more than he was his.
It was a god-given gift, Merrick had told him—Bjorn’s so-called database genius. But there were times when it didn’t feel that way. With his talent came the price of remembering everything—good or bad—and never forgetting any of it. Not his youth, his first mission, every man he’d killed, or every woman he’d slept with. It was all there, every bit of it crystal clear.
As clear as the past five minutes.
His greatest challenge at Onyxx had been keeping all the data organized so he could remain focused. And right now he needed to do just that. He didn’t want any old memories messing up this assignment, or his goal. And that goal was to put a bullet through Holic Reznik’s black heart—after he recovered the kill-file,
