His eyes widened, probably at her use of his name. When his gaze dipped to her mouth, his expression going heated for a second, all her fears from earlier about being raped and tortured flared to the surface—until a faint red flush crept up his neck. Clearing his throat, he looked away seemingly in embarrassment and held out his hand to Cole.
As Cole gave him the files, she wondered at the flushing. It seemed so . . . real. Not something he was faking for her benefit. And a man who appeared almost embarrassed by checking her out didn’t seem . . . she couldn’t think of the right phrase. Because the man crouched in front of her wasn’t harmless. He was clearly a trained killer.
A killer who’d just wrapped her ankle and was now looking at her with a tiny spark of hope in his eyes. Maybe he wasn’t lying about needing her help. If his name was really Tucker and Grisha was an alias, she knew how legends were built in the clandestine world. Most of the intel would be fake to solidify a cover. Though some would be real. He’d have to be able to back up who his legend was.
He reached over and set the files on the table in front of her, still not moving. She wondered if he was intentionally staying crouched down so he wouldn’t intimidate her with his size. She was average in height, but he was pretty huge. The other three were well built and muscular but not as tall as him.
“These are our real files from the DEA.” He looked away then and nodded at Duck Dynasty. “That’s Kane.”
“Just Kane?”
The one supposedly named Kane cleared his throat. “My first name’s Forest.” He seemed almost embarrassed by that, but Tucker continued, indicating the one with black hair. “This is Paxton Brooks. And Cole Erickson is the one you outsmarted.”
When she risked another glance at him he didn’t seem annoyed or angry, just rolled his eyes. “You’ve given them years of mocking at my expense—if we survive this shit storm.”
At the last part, the men seemed to sober. Tucker shifted slightly, drawing her attention back to him. “We know kidnapping you was fucked up and we’ll pay for our crime, but we need Burkhart’s help. He’s the only one Max trusted. With Max dead, our roles at the DEA have been compromised and we don’t know who to turn to. A team was sent out to eliminate all of us.”
“Did you call the police?” God, why was she humoring them? And why did she ask such a naive-sounding question?
Tucker’s lips pulled into a thin line. “No. We’ve hidden the bodies of the hitters.”
“And some of our places are now under surveillance. It’s subtle, but we spotted watchers at Brooks’s and Kane’s places,” Cole said.
“You’re sure?” she asked.
Cole nodded. “Yeah. We paid for random flower deliveries and the delivery guys got stopped by surveillance. Someone is watching for us.”
“Did you at least get the fingerprints off the men who came after you?” Okay, she’d apparently lost her mind, but if they were going to tell her all this, she was going to ask questions. If they were telling the truth, she wanted to know everything.
Tucker nodded.
At least that was good. She didn’t necessarily believe them, not by a long shot, but if what they were saying was true, having those prints was a good start for figuring out who’d hired the men who’d allegedly tried to kill the four of them. “Have you run the prints?”
“No. We’ve got contacts in other agencies, but running those prints could flag whoever sent the dead men. Since we don’t know who’s after us, we have no idea what their resources are, or if they’re with another government agency. By now they’ve got to know they failed in trying to eliminate us, but we still don’t want to flag ourselves.”
“But you trust Wesley to help you?”
“Max trusted him.”
Apparently it was as simple as that. “So what do you want from me?”
“Read our files and set up a meeting between me and Burkhart,” Tucker said.
“He’s going to know I’m gone by now.” And knowing Wesley, he’d have already formed a team to find her. He’d be beyond angry too. Wesley considered his people family.
“We’re well aware of that. He owes me and Cole so . . . we’re going to throw ourselves at his mercy and hope that counts for something.”
She raised an eyebrow. “He owes you?”
“Yep.”
When it was clear Tucker wasn’t going to continue, Karen looked at Cole.
The other man shrugged. “We helped one of his agents on a fairly recent op. Don’t know her real name but she’s tall, blond, sexy, and really fucking deadly.”
That sounded like Selene, but it was such a general description. Maybe he meant on the Tasev op. It would make sense. Karen had run info given to them anonymously for that op. “So you think I’m just going to set up a meeting with Wesley for you?”
“We’re hopeful,” Tucker said.
“And if I don’t?” For all she knew, the files were fake and they wanted to trap her boss. The reasons for ambushing him weren’t important; he was the deputy director of the NSA. A prime target for all kinds of lunatics and extremists.
“We just need to talk to him. In person is preferred, but with you missing, he’ll be answering all his calls now.” Tucker pulled a badge from his pocket.
The others followed suit, flashing their IDs before putting them away. She’d seen her share of DEA, FBI, and CIA credentials to know when something was real. They were certainly worn enough in a way that told her it was doubtful they were bogus.
She rubbed a hand over her face. “I’ll read your files.” It wasn’t going to matter much for these men, though. After she was done reading, she’d make the call to Wesley, but she knew he’d trace the call and soon these four men would be in handcuffs.
“Thank you,” Tucker said, and after a quick nod, the other three men strode out of the kitchen.
She thought he’d leave too, but instead he pulled up a chair at the table. “You gonna watch me while I read?”
He snorted. “One of us is going to be watching you at all times.”
Fair enough. After her brief escape they’d be stupid not to guard her twenty-four/seven. “Do you have anything to drink here?”
He seemed startled by the question as he stood. “Shit, yeah, sorry. We’ve got bottled water, sodas, some energy drinks, or I could make hot tea or coffee.”
“Hot tea works. Thanks.” At least her kidnapper was polite. The whole situation was too surreal, but at this point a lot of her fear had subsided. Whether these guys were liars or not, she believed that they believed what they were telling her. Her father had been a manipulative alcoholic, so she’d gotten good at reading people over the years. It was one of the many reasons she was so effective at her job.
Another thing she’d noticed very belatedly when Tucker chased her down in the forest was that he wasn’t armed with a gun. None of them were. There was a chance they had weapons strapped to their ankles, but the men she worked with, the agents and military types, were pretty standard about how they carried. Either shoulder or hip holsters.
“Do you have a gun on you?” she asked as he started filling a teapot with water.
He glanced over his shoulder, a kind of surprise on his hard face that told her she’d truly stunned him with the question. “No. None of us do.”
“That’s kind of weird for DEA agents.” Alleged DEA agents, she thought.
“I didn’t say we don’t have weapons with us. I know you still don’t believe us and that’s fine, but we didn’t need firearms to take you. That wasn’t part of our plan. The last thing we want to do is hurt you. We couldn’t take the chance you got hurt with one of our weapons.” He turned away from her and moved to the stove.
Frowning, she picked up the top file and flipped it open. She didn’t want to believe Tucker at all, but if trained killers had been sent after all four of them and they’d come to kidnap her unarmed, they’d left themselves vulnerable. She found that . . . interesting.
If it was even true at all.