Terminal Vendetta (A Diana Weick Thriller Book 3) by Cate Clarke (book suggestions .txt) 📕

He did a quick scan of the bathroom—the cleaner that he’d thrown at her face across the small room. He could get there. But not before she shot him clean in the head.

“Despite what you may think of me, Wesley,” Amita said. “I do not want either of you to die.”

“Then let us go,” Wesley said. “What’s the point of holding us here?”

“So she thinks that you’re dead until the job is complete.”

A slight smile of disbelief appeared across his face as he said, “You’re just using us.”

“Of course,” Amita replied. “You think I would do this for no reason at all?”

Wesley looked her up and down and she did the same to him. She wanted to keep these looks, this conversation very minimal. The less they knew the better. They could have walked away from this so easily if they had made different choices. Now what was she to do? Just let them walk away and out of her office into the streets of London? Their survival had never been a necessity, but it had always been a possibility. Until now.

Wesley seemed to sense the same thing, his hands curling into fists, his gaze intensely locked on to his father’s struggling body. A certain frustration weighing on him.

“I will close this door again,” Amita said. “And you will stay here until the job is done. Or I can be finished with this now. You serve the same purpose to me alive or dead.”

“Just…” Wesley managed. “Let us out of here, into your office or whatever and get bandages for Dad. Then, we’ll do whatever you want, okay? We’ll keep quiet. We won’t go anywhere.”

Certainly, the boy was in no position to negotiate, but Amita wasn’t immune to emotion, though all of her previous romantic endeavors did like to shove that in her face. So she agreed. If not just to prove a point.

She set them up in the armchairs, keeping them tied still but looser and with more give. She cleaned up the broken shards of the mirror and wiped down the bathroom. With a couple of emails and a text to Reina, she cancelled all of her meetings over the next three days, giving herself and Weick just enough time to get what they needed done.

Chapter 19

Diana Weick

Tok, Alaska

Sleeping in the cabin was uncomfortable. It was hot and dry, the logs absorbing all of the moisture in the air. Fortunately, they had one of two beds, Hoagland negotiating his way into the other one. Axtell and the other soldier were in the living room, on the couch and on the floor. But the temperature wasn’t the only thing keeping Diana up. She couldn’t even bring herself to close her eyes and instead spent the night staring out the window into the Alaskan wild. It wasn’t just Amber lying next to her, so chiseled and annoyingly handsome. It wasn’t just the memories of Rex and Wesley that spun at the front of her mind every time she closed her eyes. It was Taras Kushkin keeping her awake.

All of the information from the files—she wanted to share it with Amber, but she couldn’t bring herself to break him out of sleep that they both so desperately needed. She got up early, in hopes that he would do the same but when she went out into the kitchen of the cabin, Amber just turned over and went back to sleep.

Axtell, on the other hand, was wide awake. She gave Diana a light smile as she entered the kitchen, the kettle rumbling on the old stove.

“Coffee?” Axtell whispered.

“Please,” Diana said.

“You’re up early,” Axtell noted.

“And late.”

“Ah…” Axtell nodded but said nothing further. There was no bonding or conversation between the two of them, just sitting at the linoleum table sipping on too-strong coffee. There was a silent understanding. They both had secrets on one another, ones that didn’t need to be discussed but that needed to be solved without the interaction of the other. Axtell’s role in all of this was muddy now because Hoagland was still alive. But, with the news announcing that he was dead and the military pretending he was, maybe Axtell would be the one in line for the VBA position anyway.

Hoagland was the one that woke everyone up, groaning and muttering, bones and muscles creaking with every step across the cabin.

“We’d better get moving,” Hoagland said, flopping down onto the couch. He was shirtless, his gut hanging out over jeans, his shaved silver hair catching in the rising sun coming in through the dusty windows.

“Are you ready?” Axtell asked, standing up from the table, giving Diana one last glance.

“I was ready three days ago,” Hoagland muttered. “Maybe if they hadn’t sent you, I would have already been out of here.”

Though Axtell kept her face still, there was a slight twitch at the corner of her mouth. Hoagland was a misogynistic dick. Diana knew that already but hearing him talk out loud, belittling another woman soldier, he forced her to chew on the inside of her cheek to keep from saying anything.

Like he’d sensed the tension, Amber stepped out of the bedroom, completely groomed, readied, and packed.

“Maybe, if they hadn’t sent you,” Hoagland turned to Diana, “those guys wouldn’t be on our trail.”

“What?” Diana raised her eyebrows, standing up from the kitchen table.

Amber stepped between them.

“Maybe if they hadn’t sent me,” Diana snapped, “you’d be buried under the rubble of that safe house.”

“Well nobody did send you, did they?” Axtell piped up, crossing her arms and leaning against the kitchen counter. Her white wifebeater was tucked into the military pants of her uniform, her triceps lean and intimidating with her arms crossed.

Amber and Diana looked at each other.

“That’s right,” Amber said. “Independent.”

“So nobody asked and yet, you still find a way to get yourself in trouble, Weick.” Hoagland laughed a little, leaning back on the couch, spreading his hairy arms over the back of it.

“I saved your damn life!” Diana made a move forward and Amber stopped