That Time in Paris by Logan Ryles (list of ebook readers .TXT) 📕

trained eye, the American was looking for something. Or someone.

“No sign of Spider,” Wolfgang whispered. “Charlie Two, do you have anything from outside?”

The line remained silent.

Wolfgang licked his lips and scanned the room again. “Charlie Two, anything from outside?”

Still, Kevin said nothing. Then Wolfgang felt a powerful hand descend on his arm from behind and yank him into the hallway.

9

Wolfgang slid backward into the shadows before he could reach for the pistol that wasn’t even there. He grunted and felt his shoulder blades collide with the wall as his attacker stepped in front of him. Wolfgang braced his knee for a groin shot and twisted to break free of the hold, then he looked up and faced his attacker for the first time.

Kevin shoved a meaty hand against Wolfgang’s throat, half-choking him while his free hand descended over Wolfgang’s ear, cutting off the mic built into the earpiece.

“What the hell are you doing?” Kevin snarled.

Wolfgang wheezed and tried to break free, but Kevin owned all the leverage. His forearm pinned Wolfgang’s neck against the wall, held just beneath his chin, while Kevin continued to block off the earpiece.

Wolfgang choked and tried to kick. Kevin blocked the attack and then drove the toe of his shoe into Wolfgang’s shin. Pain shot up Wolfgang’s leg and his eyes watered. He gasped for breath, and Kevin leaned closer.

“You greasy weasel!” Kevin snarled. “You think I’m gonna let you poach Meg like this?”

Wolfgang’s vision blurred, and Kevin relaxed his forearm just a little. Precious oxygen flowed in, and Wolfgang gasped it down. “What’s wrong with you?” His voice sounded distorted in his own head with Kevin’s palm still clamped over his ear.

“I’m watching you, you rat. Back off. She’s not a piece of meat!”

Wolfgang gritted his teeth and smacked Kevin’s hand away from his ear. Then he dug out the earpiece and flicked the power switch off.

“You wanna do this? Right here and now? I’ll wreck you.” He stepped forward, his fists balling up, ready to fight. Then he caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye and turned to see a couple walking across the ballroom, approaching the hallway. He relaxed his shoulders and stepped back. The couple passed by, casting each of them a suspicious glance but saying nothing.

As soon as they rounded the corner, Kevin closed the distance. “I’ll make this perfectly clear, shithead. Meg is off the market. So back off. I’ll kill you, and I won’t think twice about it. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

There was an edge in Kevin’s voice that chilled Wolfgang to the bone. He saw a blend of self-righteous justification and stupidity in his dark eyes—perhaps the most dangerous cocktail known to man.

Wolfgang’s blood boiled, but he rubbed his throat and slid the earpiece back into his ear. “We’ve got work to do,” he snarled. “But don’t worry. This isn’t over.”

Wolfgang flicked the earpiece on and was immediately flooded with radio chatter.

“Charlie Three! Do you copy? Target inbound, possibly Spider!”

Wolfgang hurried back into the ballroom, smoothing out the wrinkles in his jacket. He caught sight of Megan almost immediately, standing near the wall, her body tense and ready for action. He followed her line of sight to a clean-cut man in a tuxedo and black-rimmed glasses. Wolfgang walked with grace and purpose, making a beeline for Raven, who now stood near an emergency exit door.

“That’s him,” Kevin whispered from just behind Wolfgang. “That’s the guy I saw at the café.”

“Charlie Two, is that you?” Edric said.

Wolfgang and Kevin exchanged a glance, and Wolfgang saw the defeat in Kevin’s eyes. He’d been caught away from his post. Wolfgang wanted to smirk, but he didn’t have time.

“Charlie Eye, can you confirm identity of target?” Wolfgang twisted his left arm, aligning his watch’s camera with Spider. He tracked Spider for ten feet, then dropped his arm to avoid drawing attention.

“Hold one, Charlie Three,” Lyle said.

Wolfgang held his breath, counting the seconds as Spider drew closer to Raven.

Lyle’s excited voice broke over the coms. “Identity confirmed! Target is Ramone Ortez. He’s a Spanish-born physicist specializing in nuclear technology, currently employed by a conglomerate of nuclear power plant owners based in Kiev. No living family or known associates.”

Nuclear technology. The blood chilled in Wolfgang’s veins. He remembered Edric’s briefing back in Saint Louis when Edric mentioned that the CIA was attempting to mine information out of Spider about an impending attack. A nuclear attack. Was Spider building a bomb?

“Copy that,” Edric said. “All right, everybody. This is it. We’ve got to give Raven time to obtain Spider’s plan. Charlie One, close on Raven, but remain undercover. Charlie Two, where the hell are you?”

Wolfgang saw Kevin swallow and heard Edric’s threat echo in his mind: “If any of you ever leave your post . . . you’re done.”

Kevin spoke clearly, without hesitation. “I’m with Charlie Three, Charlie Lead.”

The line was silent for a moment, and when Edric spoke, his anger was barely contained. “Copy that. Establish a security perimeter. Any sign of our Russian friends?”

“Negative,” Kevin said, scanning the room. Then he paused. “Wait . . . I’ve got two men entering the room from the north. Black suits, dark hair—”

Wolfgang held up his finger, then pivoted the watch toward the intruders, stepping into the room and searching over the tops of the guests’ heads. Even though they wore matching tuxedos, nothing about them said ‘art enthusiast,’ but Wolfgang could smell ‘Russian killer’ from across the room.

“Hold on, Charlie Three,” Lyle said again.

The seconds ticked past, and Wolfgang held the watch next to his face as if he were reading a text message or checking the time.

“I only got a clear image of one of them,” Lyle said. “Facial recognition is coming up empty.”

Just then, the left-hand man’s gaze swept to the left side of the room and collided with Wolfgang’s. He was a big man with long black hair and a dominant stance that reeked of military experience and a lifetime of giving orders. A split second passed, and then, like