“What do you care?”
“Weapons with revolting effects like that? Noscientist would create those for actual use. They’re for threats,like the cold war. We’re not monsters, just fond of a fat paycheck.Let me go. I’ll tell you where the weapons are.”
Ronan inhaled deeply, looking around at therows of early spring vines, feeling the first kiss of dawn and itspromise of warmth, renewal. “Give me the weapons, and the identityand location of the mole, and I’ll make sure you get a nicedeal.”
Connor smiled, ignoring the start of swollenbruise on his jaw. “Better yet, I’ll help you catch the mole. Youdestroy the weapons; I’ll get you the man behind it all. But I’mnot joining my brother in prison or the deal’s off.”
“Why did you hunt me down, if you alreadyknow everything? Why aren’t you enjoying your margaritas on thebeach already?” Nothing ever came in a nice neat package. Layersand layers of bullshit, as usual.
Running his tongue over his teeth, Connor’scheek bulged, he cussed before continuing. “As much as I hate toadmit it, I need your help. I don’t have the resources to destroythe weapons without risking releasing that shit into the air. Youdo. And, call me old fashioned, but I want that asshole tofry.”
Silver tongue. Human lie detector. Cold,no-bullshit, no-questions-asked operative. Best of the best. If hewere still employed by the CIA, Ronan’s next actions would never besanctioned. Which is why he was so damn good at what he did.
Ronan trusted his instincts, which had beenmore reliable than any hard facts time and again. “You’ve got adeal. Tell me his name.”
As enraged as Ronan, letting the name pourout like boiling lava meeting turbulent ocean waves, Connor hissed,“You already know. His name is Sharpe.”
Fuck. He’d known it for a while now. SinceSharpe blamed him for hiding the weapons. Insisted, really. Hebegan to suspect that Sharpe had been the driving force behindRonan’s retirement. Eager to protect her protégé, Sara hadn’thesitated to pull him out of the field.
30
Payson waited anxiously for Ronan’s return. Everysubtle sound echoed in her mind, each one sounding like a gunshotpiercing Ronan’s skull. She’d never felt so terrified in herlife.
Finally, she knew what the word couragemeant. She’d always thought it meant the absence of fear, but todayshe knew, it wasn’t the absence of fear, but more the gumption tokeep going. For Ronan, for their future, she would muster upwhatever courage she could find. She’d found her optimism, hercourage to go on with her life, run her store, and even come herewhen she’d lost her heart when Ronan had left.
Holding strong, she found Alain in hisoffice, peering through the curtain. From across the hall, sheheard Nicolas holler, “Ronan is bringing a guest for breakfast.”Payson could hear the ironic smile in his voice. What was hetalking about?
She didn’t have to wait long to find out.Alain hadn’t questioned, but instead quickly fixed a pot ofAmerican-style drip coffee and set the kitchen table with freshcroissants, jam, and brie. Coming in through the glass door facingthe vineyard was Ronan, bruised and bleeding, along with a slightlymore bruised and bleeding giant of a man. The giant’s wrists werelocked behind his back.
The man from the train. With a few gray hairsin his sideburns teasing his age to be about late thirties, leanbuild, and dressed in black like Ronan, the ‘guest’ looked aroundapprehensively at the cozy setting.
In a thick Scottish brogue, their guesttipped his head in greeting, “I’m sorry to intrude on yer peacefulmorning.”
Alain, ever the gracious host, eyed Ronanwith a puzzled expression while he welcomed theguest. “Itis not a problem. Would you care for some coffee? Breakfast?” Theguest and Ronan sat at the small kitchen table while Alain set outthe food he’d prepared and poured coffee for the group.
Soaked to the skin and ignoring the dryingblood seeping from the laceration over his eyebrow, Ronan finallymade introductions. Looking around, Ronan found his guest to besedate and not trying to escape or harm anyone. He cut the bindingswith the nearby kitchen knife.
Connor took a seat at the table and accepteda steaming cup of coffee.
Ronan asked, “What are the chances he’swatching us now?”
Connor took a brief pause to thank Alain,“This is truly excellent coffee,” before turning back to Ronan,“Sharpe wouldn’t risk himself; he’ll want to stay miles away fromyou. You’re the biggest threat to his success.”
Ronan raised an eyebrow in question, “Whywould he fear me?” He sat across the table from his new friend andpicked up his own coffee, leaning back to enjoy the drink.
Payson remained far from the absurdconversation, sitting on the edge of the barstool. Nicolas leanedagainst the doorway to the kitchen, observing while Alain took aseat at the kitchen table with the others.
Connor tore into his croissant like he hadn’teaten in days. Probably hadn’t had much more than protein bars inthe past few days, hiding out around the vineyard, tracking Ronan.“For the very reason you and I are having this conversation. Asmuch as he wants your death, he needs those weapons back, or it’shis ass on the line. And, he knows either you or I must have theweapons.”
“Does Sharpe think you’re still working forhim?”
“How do you think I found you so easily?”
Payson watched as the huge Scot sat politelyin the kitchen. She was surrounded by badasses and none of themseemed to realize this was downright weird. You didn’t just havecoffee and breakfast with the man that had tried to kill you. And,judging by the blood on his face and shiner forming around his eye,beat the crap out of you a few moments ago. Well, maybe more beatthe crap out of each other; both were soaked, muddy, bruised, andbleeding.
Leaning against the breakfast bar, Paysoninterrupted, “Where’s the woman from the train station?”
The entire room swiftly turned their headstoward Payson. Connor shook his head, looking to Ronan, he nodded,“Smart lass, that one.” He looked back to Payson, “She should behere momentarily.” Payson raised her eyebrow suspiciously. Hechuckled, “Peacefully.”
