when he ordered the murder of her men.
“You gonna squeal, Ed, or you wanna find out how they make sushi in the UK?”
Boudreau glared at her with murder in his eyes. A thin drool slid from the corner of his mouth. His emotions were getting the better of him, just as they did when he smelled a close kill. Hayden didn’t want him shutting down on her.
Alicia was already close to the bars. “You ordered the execution of my boyfriend. You should be glad it’s Drake doing the dicing and not me. I’d make the bitch suffer twice as long.”
Boudreau stared between both of them. “You had both better make sure I never get out of here. I swear I will cut you both to pieces.”
“Save it.” Hayden was watching Drake squeezing Maria Fedak’s neck. “She doesn’t have much time.”
Boudreau was a hard man, and his face shut down. “The CIA won’t hurt my sister. She’s a United States citizen.”
Now Hayden truly believed the madman truly didn’t get it. “Listen to me, you crazy bastard,” she hissed. “We’re at war. The Blood King has murdered Americans on American soil. He has kidnapped dozens. Dozens. He wants to hold this country to ransom. He doesn’t give a shit about you or your stinking sister!”
Alicia muttered something into her earpiece. Hayden heard the instruction. So did Kinimaka.
So did Drake.
He let go of the woman’s neck and unholstered the gun.
Hayden ground her teeth together so hard, the nerves around her skull screamed. Gut instinct almost made her cry out and order him to stop. Her focus blurred for a second, but then her training kicked in and told her this was the best chance they had of tracking down Kovalenko.
One life to save hundreds, or more.
Boudreau had noticed the play of emotions across her face and suddenly he was at the bars, convinced, reaching out and snarling.
“Don’t do it. Don’t you fucking do it to my baby sister!”
Hayden’s face was a mask of stone. “Last chance, killer.”
“The Blood King’s a ghost. Whatever I know, it might be a distraction. He loves that sort of thing.”
“Understood. Try us.”
But Boudreau had been a mercenary too long, a killer too long. And his hate for authority figures had blinded his judgment. “Go to hell, bitch.”
Hayden’s heart sank, but she tapped the monitor on her wrist mic. “Shoot her.”
Drake raised the gun and put it to her temple. His finger squeezed the trigger.
Boudreau bellowed in horror. “No! The Blood King’s in—”
Drake let the horrible sound of gunfire mask all other sounds. He watched as blood exploded from the side of Maria Fedak’s head.
“North Oahu!” Boudreau finished. “His biggest ranch is there. . .” His words tailed off as he sank to the floor, watching his dead sister slump in the chair and looking at the blood-spattered wall behind her. He stared in shock as the balaclava-clad figure came up to the screen until he filled it. Then he removed the mask.
Matt Drake’s face was cold, detached, the face of an executioner who loved his job.
Hayden shuddered.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Matt Drake stepped out of a taxi and shielded his eyes to study the tall building that rose before him. Grey and nondescript, it was the perfect frontage for a secret CIA operation. The local agents would enter via an underground parking garage after running the gamut of multiple security levels. Anyone else, be it agents or civilians, entered through the front door, purposely presented as sitting ducks.
He took a deep breath, almost sober for the first time in as long as he could remember, and pushed through the one-man revolving door. At least this setup seemed serious about its security. A plain desk faced him, manned by half a dozen stern-looking men. No doubt many more were watching.
He walked across the polished tile floor. “Hayden Jaye is waiting to see me.”
“The name?”
“Drake.”
“Matt Drake?” The guard’s stoic exterior slipped a
“You gonna squeal, Ed, or you wanna find out how they make sushi in the UK?”
Boudreau glared at her with murder in his eyes. A thin drool slid from the corner of his mouth. His emotions were getting the better of him, just as they did when he smelled a close kill. Hayden didn’t want him shutting down on her.
Alicia was already close to the bars. “You ordered the execution of my boyfriend. You should be glad it’s Drake doing the dicing and not me. I’d make the bitch suffer twice as long.”
Boudreau stared between both of them. “You had both better make sure I never get out of here. I swear I will cut you both to pieces.”
“Save it.” Hayden was watching Drake squeezing Maria Fedak’s neck. “She doesn’t have much time.”
Boudreau was a hard man, and his face shut down. “The CIA won’t hurt my sister. She’s a United States citizen.”
Now Hayden truly believed the madman truly didn’t get it. “Listen to me, you crazy bastard,” she hissed. “We’re at war. The Blood King has murdered Americans on American soil. He has kidnapped dozens. Dozens. He wants to hold this country to ransom. He doesn’t give a shit about you or your stinking sister!”
Alicia muttered something into her earpiece. Hayden heard the instruction. So did Kinimaka.
So did Drake.
He let go of the woman’s neck and unholstered the gun.
Hayden ground her teeth together so hard, the nerves around her skull screamed. Gut instinct almost made her cry out and order him to stop. Her focus blurred for a second, but then her training kicked in and told her this was the best chance they had of tracking down Kovalenko.
One life to save hundreds, or more.
Boudreau had noticed the play of emotions across her face and suddenly he was at the bars, convinced, reaching out and snarling.
“Don’t do it. Don’t you fucking do it to my baby sister!”
Hayden’s face was a mask of stone. “Last chance, killer.”
“The Blood King’s a ghost. Whatever I know, it might be a distraction. He loves that sort of thing.”
“Understood. Try us.”
But Boudreau had been a mercenary too long, a killer too long. And his hate for authority figures had blinded his judgment. “Go to hell, bitch.”
Hayden’s heart sank, but she tapped the monitor on her wrist mic. “Shoot her.”
Drake raised the gun and put it to her temple. His finger squeezed the trigger.
Boudreau bellowed in horror. “No! The Blood King’s in—”
Drake let the horrible sound of gunfire mask all other sounds. He watched as blood exploded from the side of Maria Fedak’s head.
“North Oahu!” Boudreau finished. “His biggest ranch is there. . .” His words tailed off as he sank to the floor, watching his dead sister slump in the chair and looking at the blood-spattered wall behind her. He stared in shock as the balaclava-clad figure came up to the screen until he filled it. Then he removed the mask.
Matt Drake’s face was cold, detached, the face of an executioner who loved his job.
Hayden shuddered.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Matt Drake stepped out of a taxi and shielded his eyes to study the tall building that rose before him. Grey and nondescript, it was the perfect frontage for a secret CIA operation. The local agents would enter via an underground parking garage after running the gamut of multiple security levels. Anyone else, be it agents or civilians, entered through the front door, purposely presented as sitting ducks.
He took a deep breath, almost sober for the first time in as long as he could remember, and pushed through the one-man revolving door. At least this setup seemed serious about its security. A plain desk faced him, manned by half a dozen stern-looking men. No doubt many more were watching.
He walked across the polished tile floor. “Hayden Jaye is waiting to see me.”
“The name?”
“Drake.”
“Matt Drake?” The guard’s stoic exterior slipped a
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