Division mercenary has.”
Hawke looked inquisitive and this time she could understand the hesitation. One of her men was an ex-British military man and an unknown survivor of the devastation wrought on the Ninth Division’s HQ. Demoralized, discontented and wanting more he had signed up recently to Kenzie’s crew, further cementing her decision to tail Crouch.
“Go.” Kenzie watched Hawke leave, knowing she could trust him to do her bidding but slightly saddened that even among her inner circle questions and mistrust remained. Blessed and cursed with a perfect memory she had once been the brightest up-and-comer the Mossad ever had. Quick to learn, even faster to correct mistakes, respectful to her superiors and loyal to her government, Kenzie was a rising star. One of her instructors had called her “the complete trainable animal, unsullied from head to toe”. At first pleased and later highly confused, it took her a long time to understand the depths to which he was referring. Competitors called her green, fresh, but it was more than that. The military structure was one she embraced and even loved. She loved authority, reveled in the order and directness of it. It gave her purpose, stability and true resolve.
Which was why it came as such a shock and affected her so deeply when they so utterly betrayed her.
Ajax tapped the laptop’s screen. “The team,” he said, indicating Crouch and Myles and the others she knew as Healey, Russo and Caitlyn. “They left a man behind.”
Kenzie nodded and sucked blood from her thumb. “I know. Go get me that fucking archaeologist.”
TWELVE
The Gold Team left Istanbul in a hurry, their haste fueled by Michael Crouch who walked and talked and helped make their travel plans like a deep sea diver who’s suddenly realized he’s being tracked back to the surface by a great white shark. Through the hustle and bustle of Istanbul’s streets and the whirlwind packing at their hotel room, the chaos that was Ataturk Airport and their ferrying out to a private jet, Alicia remained calm, almost silent, giving Crouch the time he needed to better apprise his team of the impending threat.
Riley.
She wondered if this meant the treasure hunt was off. More importantly—would Crouch disband the team? She knew how his mind worked. Experienced, military trained soldiers or not he would think first about keeping them safe when the slaughterer they faced sought only him. In addition, there was the potential civilian collateral to consider. If Riley was actually the madman he appeared to be then moms and dads and children would not be allowed to stand in his way. Crouch needed time to assimilate all the specifics.
Once aboard the private jet, seated and knowing its destination was Venice, she cracked open a small bottle of water.
“We have less than two hours before we land.” She faced Crouch. “Best start talking, boss.”
Crouch sighed loudly as he made a point of addressing them all. “First, there’s nothing underhand going on. Everything between Riley and I is a matter of record. The man’s a certifiable maniac, born without a glimmer of conscience and perfectly capable of destroying half the world to get what he wants.”
“Which is you,” Alicia put in helpfully.
“Ah, yes. So it seems. I had hoped the bastard was stone cold dead.”
Alicia didn’t have to look for any animosity in Crouch’s tone, it was there undisguised for all to hear. “I’m guessing he kept tabs on you from whatever cesspool he’s been hiding in.”
“Riley holds grudges like an elected official holds the purse strings. Very tightly and close to his heart. No doubt he has known my every movement for years.”
“Why hasn’t he tried to kill you before?” Russo wanted to know.
Alicia glared at the rough-edged soldier. “Steady on, Rambo.”
Crouch reached for a miniature whiskey, one of half-a-dozen he had carefully placed in a line before him. “Riley is hands-on. Yes, he
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