Jigsaw (Black Raven Book 2) Read online

  The president nodded. “Understood.”

  “One final caution. The press is using the term ‘witch hunt,’ which they’ve picked up from the defense teams. Dissuade them from using that term. This will be a fair trial. The end result will be unassailable. ‘Witch hunt’ implies prejudging. Prejudging makes the other countries nervous, and it gives human rights activists fuel.”

  Red flared in the president’s cheeks. “Witch hunt?” He ground his teeth, shook his head, and straightened his shoulders. “Could be good and bad, but after last night’s bombing in Vegas, I’d say Americans won’t give a damn about that label. For now, I’ll let the press run with it. I haven’t forgotten history. Americans love a good witch hunt.” His dark eyes flashed with hard-as-steel resolve, “As long as the goddamn witch is caught.”

  Chapter One

  New Orleans, Louisiana

  Sunday, January 30

  Ana slipped her small hand into her father’s. Her soft touch pulled Zeus Hernandez from his conversation with two senior Black Raven agents, reminding him that the purpose of this gathering wasn’t work. He and Ana were on a father-daughter trip to New Orleans, Louisiana, away from their home in Miami, Florida, to attend the wedding of Zeus’s best friend and business partner, Sebastian Connelly to Skye Barrows.

  “Daddy, hurry,” she said, pulling on his hand. “They’re getting ready to cut the cake. Come on.”

  Zeus looked down into velvety-brown eyes shining with the unfiltered excitement of youth. He bent to one knee and planted a soft kiss on her cheek. With his free hand, he straightened the bow on her red hair ribbon. Loose tendrils of silky black hair had escaped from her ponytail and fallen across her face. He pushed the wayward hair back, gently tucking the strands behind her ear. She let go of his hand, draped her arms over his shoulders, and pressed her forehead to his so that their noses touched.

  Inhaling her sugary sweet, girlish scent, he stared into her eyes, as she asked, “Don’t you want to see?”

  “Of course, my sweet angel.”

  He let Ana lead the way through the courtyard of New Orleans’ City Park, towards the Pavilion of Two Sisters. As Zeus opened the door, his eyes scanned the wedding guests before resting on Sebastian, who talked to Skye and her younger sister, Spring.

  Zeus was happy for his friend. Barely eleven months earlier Sebastian had been on the operating table, having life-threatening brain surgery following a week from hell. The Black Raven job that had involved Skye and her father was complete before Sebastian went under the knife. But even while Sebastian was down, the world remained filled with bad guys. In the ensuing months, London, Miami, Bogotá, and Paris had been rocked with large-scale terrorist acts, leading to the inevitable conclusion that the terrorists were winning, and that was before New Year’s Eve was marked with a bombing on the Vegas strip, resulting in the deaths of hundreds of innocent revelers. Television cameras had been primed for the New Year’s Eve festivities. Instead, the cameras caught a bloody massacre.

  Now, thirty days after the New Year’s Eve bombing, economic markets remained in turmoil. The global fallout was great for Black Raven’s security business, but not for one other damn thing.

  Sebastian had recovered from his surgery with none of the troubling aftereffects they’d all dreaded. He was back to normal, at the helm of Black Raven with his partners where he belonged. Guests at Sebastian and Skye’s Sunday afternoon wedding celebration were the inner circle of Black Raven agents, partners, and friends. Partygoers gathered at one end of the reception hall, where cakes were on display.

  “Daddy, I can’t see.” Ana tugged at his hand as they stood at the edge of the crowd.

  He lifted her, and settled her on his hip. At six, almost seven, she’d soon be too big to hold like this, and too old to want her father to carry her, but today, her skinny arms wrapped around his neck as she held on. “How’s this?”

  “Wow,” she said. “I’ve never seen so many flowers on a wedding cake. The colors are weird, aren’t they? But it’s beautiful.”

  The father of the bride, computer software genius Richard Barrows, the man whose kidnapping from prison had brought Sebastian and Skye together, had walked his daughter down the aisle. Upon his official release from prison, Barrows had started work with Black Raven at their Denver headquarters. Zeus worked with him, along with Ragno, the head of their data analysis unit. Zeus and Ragno had concluded that Barrows was brilliant when focused. His ordeal had done nothing to diminish his brainpower, and they were damn glad he was now working for Black Raven instead of a competitor.

  Zeus watched Sebastian bend to his bride and give her a lingering kiss. At this wedding, the groom revealed none of the hesitation that had marked Zeus’s own wedding day. No second thoughts. Not one bit of doubt. Zeus had pretended to be just as happy as Sebastian really was. Now, watching Sebastian’s genuine, heartfelt reactions to the moments that marked his wedding day, Zeus wondered whether he’d fooled anyone.

  Skye led her sister to the cakes for photographs. For a moment, Spring looked overwhelmed by the attention, but she managed a smile. Sebastian, who was hanging back and allowing Spring to bask in the attention given to the cakes she’d created, approached Zeus. His eyes changed from happy groom to serious Raven. “How are operations going?”

  “Not today. You’ve got a gorgeous new wife to focus on.” His gaze fell on Barrows, who stood a few feet from the cake tables, smiling at his daughters. “A ready-made family. Besides, things are fine. Nothing unusual.”

  Zeus and the other Ravens who were at the wedding reception were mic’d to Ragno, who was at headquarters in Denver. Sebastian was not. For the last two hours, in deference to the celebration, Ragno had maintained radio silence.

  “Zeus,” Ragno’s voice came through the mic, as clear as if she was standing next to him. “You spoke too soon. I’m talking only to you, and it can’t wait. Understand?”

  “Got it,” he said after Sebastian stepped away from him to return to his new wife. The band picked up their instruments, a signal that soon he wouldn’t be able to hear Ragno. “Give me a second.”

  Zeus walked over to Agent Victoria Martel, the Black Raven agent who had full-time duties over Ana, whether Ana was with Zeus or with her mother. When Zeus could, he worked from home in Miami, but most of his time he was based at Denver headquarters. From time to time, he worked as an on-site problem shooter on high-profile jobs. Due to the global reach of Black Raven’s business, and the frequency with which jobs became volatile, at any moment in time Zeus could be anywhere in the world. He was lucky if he got a few weeknights and a couple weekends a month with his daughter.

  Agent Martel was Nanny Vick to Ana, a beloved sitter, friend, disciplinarian, and confidant. To Zeus, Agent Martel was a caregiver with a Glock, his insurance for Ana’s safety. Overkill? He hoped so. With his daughter, there was no such thing as being too careful.

  Used to Zeus’s sudden transitions to business mode, Ana wriggled out of his grasp and stood firmly on the ground next to Agent Martel. Eyes on him, she asked, “Want me to get you a piece of cake?”

  “If one of those cakes is chocolate on the inside,” he said, touching her cheek, “absolutely. I’ll be right back, baby. Stay with Vick.” He turned from them and walked outside. “Ragno, I’m all ears.”

  “Stanley Morgan, Chief Amicus Curiae Counsel for the United States, at the newly convened International Terrorist Tribunal, died six hours ago in Paris. His death looks like insulin overdose in a diabetic. Initial reports suggest it was accidental.”

  “Okay,” he said, walking across the brick courtyard, the lone person outside of the reception hall. Bright sunlight shone on the courtyard’s bordering gardens, filled with pink, red, and white azaleas in full bloom. Fountains in sparkling water gardens trickled and splashed. The water noises grew louder with each step he took away from the reception venue and the sounds of the band.

  In a world without peace, the courtyard with its fountains and flowers welcom
ed guests with a glimpse of what life could be like if one managed to forget the evil that was now everywhere.

  Zeus never forgot.

  He was the Raven in charge of operations. Managing partner of an international company in the business of protecting clients from threats of all kinds. Black Raven was the go-to company for state of the art security systems and manned details at upper echelon businesses and private residences. The company handled special assignments in far-flung destinations, and government contracts with varying degrees of secrecy. Black Raven had blossomed into a company that was synonymous with safety, protection, cyber-systems security, and skilled investigations. They were an elite, private army for hire.

  “You’re up to speed on International Terrorist Tribunal proceedings, correct?” Ragno’s words were fast and efficient, her tone businesslike.

  “As much as I’ve needed to be. ITT for short. Trial starts in Paris tomorrow. The world’s watching. Good people want to see someone punished. Terrorists want to see the proceedings fail. The ITT has one month to conduct four proceedings in four countries, then reach a verdict regarding last year’s terrorist acts in France, the U.S., Columbia, and the U.K.” He took a few more steps across the courtyard as he talked. “I think the current ITT proceeding is too ambitious, convened too hastily, and promises to be a clusterfuck of epic proportions, fueled by the media’s feeding frenzy on the public fear of terrorism. Terrorists, whether affiliated with an established group or random wannabes, will find targets among the proceedings. Media’s thirsty for the first shots to be fired. How’s that assessment?”

  “Accurate,” Ragno said. “Although there’s no indication of foul play, Stanley Morgan’s death has caused shockwaves about security concerns in at least one person, and he’s made a hiring call to us for personal security for the person stepping in to fill Morgan’s shoes.”

  “Isn’t there government-agency security in place for the judges and participating parties who are there on behalf of the U.S.?” He stopped walking when he reached a pond that was the centerpiece of the courtyard. His eyes drifted over flowering water lilies, with pink and purple petals and dark green, waxy leaves. He looked past the foliage, into clear water where shimmering gold koi lazily swam.

  “Yes. Marshals. DHS. Plus, the ITT has its own security forces in each country.”

  “So, someone is trying to circumvent the security that’s already in place?”

  “Yes. The person making the hiring call claims that Morgan’s death was not accidental.”

  “Any evidence of that?”

  “No credible suggestion so far.” Zeus heard Ragno’s fingers clicking on her keyboard as she talked. “Having low confidence level in existing security, he wants Black Raven. Specifically, he’s requested that you personally provide on-site protection to Morgan’s replacement.”

  “Did you mention that I no longer do field work or bodyguard details?” It was midafternoon, and the January sun had warmed the mild winter chill out of the air. He pulled off his suit jacket as his eyes followed the fattest koi in the pond.

  “I explained that, but he won’t take no for an answer. By the way, we provide extensive, on-site and off-site security at his personal residences and several of his business properties. His companies have been existing clients of Black Raven for some years.”

  Oh fuck.

  “Answer’s no. I don’t care who he is, so don’t tell me. We’ve got more than enough work right now. If he doesn’t like it, he can take his business elsewhere.”

  “You’re the originating partner on his files. Over the years his companies have paid us millions. High millions.”

  Zeus paused as he considered Ragno’s information. The fattest koi’s scales shimmered with crimson red and sunlight gold. It was speckled with white and black spots. When smaller fish crossed its path, it swam fast and nudged the others out of its way. Zeus bent down, picked up a few pebbles off the path bordering the pond, and dropped one near the bully as he started an attack. “That doesn’t change my answer. I don’t care how much he’s paid us. Tell him we have a number of highly qualified agents who can handle the job. I’ll oversee the operation and be personally involved from afar, but I’m not going to be on-site, day in and day out.”

  “He told me you wouldn’t say no, even after I had accounting provide a rough estimate of the daily fee, which included a ridiculous rate for you. It’s an enormous job. Multiple countries. High profile. I’m estimating you’ll need twenty agents. Minimum. Worldwide transports. We factored in high profit levels on every conceivable contingency.”

  “Like I said, manpower is taxed.” Though he was getting damned curious.

  “I know, but we can handle it, especially given the profit factor.” As Ragno rattled off astronomical numbers, Zeus dropped another pebble, wondering if the aggressive fish was smart enough to learn that his own actions were creating the threat. “Even with that kind of figure thrown at him, and a warning that the estimate will only go up, he said no one other than you is acceptable as lead agent on site. He insisted that I call you, tell you about the job, and ask you to do it. So that’s what I’m doing.” After a pause she continued in a gentler tone. The one they used when talking about personal issues. “Zeus, I’m thinking you won’t tell him no.”

  Son of a bitch.

  “Okay. I’ll bite. Who is he?”

  “Samuel Dixon.”

  The name carried an out-of-the-blue gut punch. He’d trained himself to react with equanimity to almost every conceivable situation, yet the adrenaline rush that came with hearing Dixon’s name jolted his very being. Zeus looked up at the bright blue, cloudless sky, and waited for the words that would seal his fate. The sun’s heat warmed his exterior, while internal trepidation chilled his insides.

  No was the only answer that made sense, but he knew he wasn’t going to say it. No was not a word he was going to articulate, because Samuel Dixon would only be making this request on behalf of one person, knowing that, like a goddamn moth driven to flame, for all the reasons his answer should be no, Zeus was going to say yes. He’d been on a road leading away from her for years. It was a painful turn he’d taken willingly, resulting in a sharp, regret-filled detour that could never be undone.

  Ragno continued, “Dixon believes she’s in grave danger and insists that you lead the protective detail. You saved his life once. He has the highest respect for your capabilities. No one else will do.”

  Let me be wrong.

  “She?”

  “Morgan’s replacement is Dixon’s granddaughter. Samantha Dixon Fairfax.”

  Fuck!

  He’d given her the nickname Sam, and it had aggravated her to no end. To him, she was way more than a pretty woman with a nickname. To him, she was the one.

  The one—though I’ve never told her that fact. How could I? I didn’t realize it myself, until it was too late. It made sense that Dixon was making this request on behalf of his granddaughter, his only heir. Zeus knew from the first job he’d handled for Dixon that the man was more like an overbearing parent to her than a distant, adoring grandparent. He also knew from personal experience that not only did the man love his granddaughter, he was a Machiavellian meddler in her life.

  Cunning and crafty, Dixon was capable of pulling strings from afar in order to assure that his granddaughter took the path of his choosing. Zeus had seen that dark, manipulative side of Dixon. He didn’t know whether Sam had. It hadn’t been his business then, and he didn’t see why it would be now. The man’s relationship with his granddaughter mattered not to Zeus. What did matter was that Dixon believed she was in danger and was willing to pay Black Raven a shitload of money to make sure she survived and was unharmed.

  His gaze rolled over the fishpond, then bounced up to the clear-blue sky, coming back to rest on the trickling waterfall.

  Dammit.

  He tried to think of a way out. He couldn’t.

  Of all the variations of hell Zeus had confronted in his life, this one wo
uld be the hardest to navigate. It was a hell that defied reason—a scorching, internal inferno that he’d created. He wasn’t a man who walked away from anything or anyone without closure. Except her, and now it was coming back to bite him in the ass.

  Embrace the suck.

  Over the years, the phrase had become a Black Raven mantra. When the going got tough, Black Raven agents powered through—any way, anyhow.

  Embrace the suck and do the job. Get. The. Job. Done. Any way, any how.

  This job, though, wasn’t going to be just a job. Walking through this fire-filled cauldron was going to test him in ways he didn’t want to think about, and that was even without worrying about the risks the job would present. While his thoughts raced with legitimate reasons he should refuse, adrenaline played tricks throughout his body. His dick had long ago sworn an oath of allegiance to her that produced a hard-on whenever he dwelled on what sex with her had been like. His dick rejoiced by hardening as his mind raced through the possibilities that lay in store. His palms became clammy. His heart pounded.

  Hell. Hell. Hell. Hell.

  “Zeus?”

  “Dixon’s right. I’m in.”

  “Maybe you should think about it.”

  “Don’t sound so concerned. I can han—”

  “If you say it’s just a job. That you’ll keep personal issues out of it,” Ragno retorted in a tone that was more worried than teasing, “I’ll strangle you next time I see you.”

  “With you, I won’t even pretend.” He chuckled, though the sound came out more like a choke. “You’re damn straight it’s personal.”

  The silky feel of Sam’s long blonde hair, the coolness in her ice-blue eyes, and the warmth of her ivory skin on his fingertips had been immediately imprinted into his psyche. On the outside, she was more ice than fire, but once he chipped away the icy coolness, the fire within burned so hot he’d never been able to get her out of his system. Memories of her urgent, demanding style of making love—a surprise at first, and positively addictive within seconds—had haunted him for years.