a seat,” Steele told everyone.
He and Donovan both remained standing as the others slouched on the couch and in the
chairs. P.J. made sure to grab the only available spot left on the couch next to Baker
and Renshaw, forcing Cole to take one of the unoccupied armchairs across from the
sofa.
Steele took a deep breath. P.J. honed in on his mood with pinpoint accuracy. He was
hesitant, which flabbergasted her, because he wasn’t the hesitating type. Steele was
nothing if not to the point.
“I apologize for calling all of you up after you were promised time off. Something
came up, though. Something big.”
P.J. and the others leaned forward. Everyone had gone completely still at his announcement,
because, indeed, it would have to be big to elicit this kind of reaction.
Steele turned to Donovan, who stepped forward, his expression one of utter seriousness.
“Carter Brumley is one of the largest traffickers of children in the world. He likes
them young, preferably in the range of eight to twelve, and he deals exclusively in
females.”
The hatred in Donovan’s voice was evident to all, and now it made perfect sense to
P.J. why he was here and why the team had been called up. Above all things, Donovan
had a soft spot for children. Women and children, but particularly kids.
He had a hand in every single mission that dealt with children, whether they were
missing, exploited or kidnapped.
“He’s public enemy number one in a number of countries. Many agencies have gotten
close, but no one has been able to take him down. He’s smart, but he’s also lucky
and he has more lives than a cat.”
“We going after him?” Dolphin asked.
Steele silenced him with a look.
“In a manner of speaking, yes,” Donovan said grimly. “An opportunity has presented
itself that we can’t pass up. But in order to get close to him, we’re going to have
to use unorthodox means.”
P.J.’s brow went up at that.
That was when both Steele and Donovan looked directly at her.
“Brumley’s right-hand man has a predilection for petite brunettes with killer legs.
He likes them toned, small busted. Not too small, but not overly endowed.”
P.J. had the sudden urge to cover her chest with both arms as she stared at the men
in mortification. They were all but assessing her charms in front of God and everyone.
Her lips curled in disgust. She was being such a goddamn girl. Here, she was one of
the guys. Not a one of them would be so much as blinking an eye if they were talking
about each other’s dick size.
“He also has a big mouth,” Donovan continued on. “We got a tip from a prostitute he
had an association with that he’s a talker. With enough alcohol and encouragement,
he’ll air damn near anything.”
P.J. was starting to get a very bad feeling about this.
“Rumor is he’s delivering girls to a buyer in Europe. American girls. The specific
order is for blondes. Eight to ten years old. Blue eyes. Long hair. The buyer was
very exacting.”
“Jesus,” Cole said in disgust.
“So how do we stop him?” P.J. asked evenly.
Donovan took a deep breath. “We know where he’s going to be in three nights’ time.
There’s a party he’s attending in Vienna. Arthur Stromberg, one of Europe’s biggest
arms dealers, is hosting a soiree, and he and Brumley are good friends. And where
Brumley goes, Gregory Nelson goes. That’s where you come in, P.J.”
Cole sat straight forward, a dark scowl savaging his face. “What do you mean that’s
where she comes in? What exactly are we talking here?”
Steele frowned and Donovan held up his hand. “Let me finish.”
Cole didn’t sit back and P.J. glared holes through him. The last thing she needed
was him embarrassing her in front of her team.
“We want you to get close to Gregory Nelson at the party. Be friendly. Smile a lot.
Wait for the invitation. Once you get him alone, try to get as much information out
of him
He and Donovan both remained standing as the others slouched on the couch and in the
chairs. P.J. made sure to grab the only available spot left on the couch next to Baker
and Renshaw, forcing Cole to take one of the unoccupied armchairs across from the
sofa.
Steele took a deep breath. P.J. honed in on his mood with pinpoint accuracy. He was
hesitant, which flabbergasted her, because he wasn’t the hesitating type. Steele was
nothing if not to the point.
“I apologize for calling all of you up after you were promised time off. Something
came up, though. Something big.”
P.J. and the others leaned forward. Everyone had gone completely still at his announcement,
because, indeed, it would have to be big to elicit this kind of reaction.
Steele turned to Donovan, who stepped forward, his expression one of utter seriousness.
“Carter Brumley is one of the largest traffickers of children in the world. He likes
them young, preferably in the range of eight to twelve, and he deals exclusively in
females.”
The hatred in Donovan’s voice was evident to all, and now it made perfect sense to
P.J. why he was here and why the team had been called up. Above all things, Donovan
had a soft spot for children. Women and children, but particularly kids.
He had a hand in every single mission that dealt with children, whether they were
missing, exploited or kidnapped.
“He’s public enemy number one in a number of countries. Many agencies have gotten
close, but no one has been able to take him down. He’s smart, but he’s also lucky
and he has more lives than a cat.”
“We going after him?” Dolphin asked.
Steele silenced him with a look.
“In a manner of speaking, yes,” Donovan said grimly. “An opportunity has presented
itself that we can’t pass up. But in order to get close to him, we’re going to have
to use unorthodox means.”
P.J.’s brow went up at that.
That was when both Steele and Donovan looked directly at her.
“Brumley’s right-hand man has a predilection for petite brunettes with killer legs.
He likes them toned, small busted. Not too small, but not overly endowed.”
P.J. had the sudden urge to cover her chest with both arms as she stared at the men
in mortification. They were all but assessing her charms in front of God and everyone.
Her lips curled in disgust. She was being such a goddamn girl. Here, she was one of
the guys. Not a one of them would be so much as blinking an eye if they were talking
about each other’s dick size.
“He also has a big mouth,” Donovan continued on. “We got a tip from a prostitute he
had an association with that he’s a talker. With enough alcohol and encouragement,
he’ll air damn near anything.”
P.J. was starting to get a very bad feeling about this.
“Rumor is he’s delivering girls to a buyer in Europe. American girls. The specific
order is for blondes. Eight to ten years old. Blue eyes. Long hair. The buyer was
very exacting.”
“Jesus,” Cole said in disgust.
“So how do we stop him?” P.J. asked evenly.
Donovan took a deep breath. “We know where he’s going to be in three nights’ time.
There’s a party he’s attending in Vienna. Arthur Stromberg, one of Europe’s biggest
arms dealers, is hosting a soiree, and he and Brumley are good friends. And where
Brumley goes, Gregory Nelson goes. That’s where you come in, P.J.”
Cole sat straight forward, a dark scowl savaging his face. “What do you mean that’s
where she comes in? What exactly are we talking here?”
Steele frowned and Donovan held up his hand. “Let me finish.”
Cole didn’t sit back and P.J. glared holes through him. The last thing she needed
was him embarrassing her in front of her team.
“We want you to get close to Gregory Nelson at the party. Be friendly. Smile a lot.
Wait for the invitation. Once you get him alone, try to get as much information out
of him
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