Darkest Before Dawn

“This is Rio,” he said.

“Rio, it’s Conrad.”

Relief was evident in Conrad’s voice.

“I don’t have a lot of time to explain,” Conrad continued. “But it’s bad, Rio. Real bad. We had Maksimov in our sights. Again. We had something he wanted very desperately, and all we had to do was hand her over and we were in.”

“She?” P.J. and Skylar echoed at the same time, scowls darkening their faces. “Is that how you win your battles at Titan?”

“She was never supposed to be within a mile of Maksimov,” Conrad said, impatience simmering in his voice. “Look, do you have your doctor on hand? If she can’t tell me how to help or fix Hancock, he’s going to die. And goddamn it, we need your . . . help.”

Any other time, such a statement would begin an endless chain of torment, sly innuendo, smugness and arrogance that would end in bloodshed on both sides. All in good fun, of course. Except that there was very real animosity between the two groups. But they also owed Hancock, and Sam paid all his debts. Every last one. And they owed Hancock big.

“Maksimov has her now,” Conrad said painfully. As though he gave a damn. Like he had a heart.

The others stared at one another in astonishment. The members of Titan were not known for their humanlike qualities. It was questionable as to whether they were even human at all except that Rio had once led the team, and he was evidence that there were at least some vestiges of what made up a human being.

“Stay on the phone, Conrad,” Sam said in a crisp, take-charge tone. “Brief us on what we need to know while I send for Maren. Then I’ll put her on the phone with you so she can assess the damage based on your findings and guide you through what has to be done.”

“I’ll make the call,” Steele said. “She’s two minutes away at regular speed. She’ll be here in less than one. I guarantee it.”

And so Conrad gave them an abbreviated, terse, to-the-point sterile recitation of their mission, their integration into Bristow’s organization and how Honor became collateral damage but at the same time provided them their best opportunity they’d had in all the long years they’d spent hunting Maksimov.

KGI was well aware of who and what Maksimov was and that most governments feared him and stayed well out of his way. They also knew of Hancock’s previous run-in with him when Maksimov had nearly beaten Hancock to death for getting Maren out danger and back to KGI—and Steele.

“He couldn’t do it,” Conrad said quietly. “He stayed the course until the day before we were set to deliver her to Maksimov and he refused to do it. His exact words were fuck the greater good. That Honor was the greater good and he was goddamn tired of fighting the good fight for a country that neither claims us nor welcomes us, for protecting the very people who have tried to assassinate us. And for what? What does it get any of us? We have no home, no homeland. No one who claims us. We don’t even exist. We’re fucking ghosts expected to clean up messes no one else will and take out the garbage that preys on the innocent. Well, fuck that. Honor Cambridge took a goddamn bullet for me. Me. A man who betrayed her by making her believe I was her salvation. That I rescued her from a terrorist organization that I planned to turn her right back over to. She has more fire, courage, heart and loyalty in her little finger than most of the men I’ve ever served with. So yeah, fuck the greater good and fuck Maksimov. We need your help, because over my dead body and over the dead body of our fallen brother and above all for Hancock—who’s sacrificed far more than any of us will ever know, if he lives through this—will I not see Honor safe and returned to her family. And I’m not too proud to beg if that’s what it takes, because I owe Honor Cambridge more than I can ever repay her and I’ll be damned if her repayment is rape, torture and pain from Maksimov only to then be turned back over to ANE to be endlessly brutalized and kept alive for as long as possible so she suffers so badly that she begs, she pleads, she prays for death because only then will she be truly free.”

“I’m with him,” Skylar muttered. “Fuck the goddamn greater good. Especially when it means an innocent woman, whose only crimes were giving aid to people nobody else in the world gives a fuck about and being in the wrong place at the wrong time, is punished.”

Donovan scowled, his legendary regard for women and children coming roaring to the forefront. He looked ready to take on an entire fucking army and take apart anyone who would so abuse a helpless woman.

“Just how the hell do we know that if we help you recover Honor Cambridge, we aren’t just finishing the job you started—and evidently failed to complete? I—KGI—won’t be used to send an innocent woman, any woman, to a fate worse than death and we all know that Maksimov, ANE, take your pick, would be a nightmare of unimaginable agony and degradation.”

“Fucking Bristow tried to rape her before passing along the used goods to Maksimov,” Conrad said in a brittle tone that in no way belied the fury laced in every word. “To save herself—or hell, maybe she really did want out—she slit one wrist and then the other and then she faced that motherfucker down holding the knife to her throat after he’d savaged her and told him if she died, then so would he, because Maksimov would kill him for not following through with his promise to deliver her to him.”

“Holy fuck,” P.J. breathed, her eyes darkening, shadowed by the past, likely not even realizing she trembled against Cole, whom she leaned into, again, likely without being cognizant of it. She was not a woman who ever showed vulnerability in front of others. Especially her team. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">