And Maren Steele, Steele’s wife and mother of their daughter. She, too, was one of Marlene’s adoptees.
He found himself angry as he stalked toward the secure sat phone for disturbing what should have been a perfect day. A day to remember their blessings and revel in them. Simply enjoy living and loving and being the family unit they were. Or maybe he was just getting too fucking maudlin in his old age. Finding the love of your life and then watching her grow heavy with your children had a man rethinking every priority he thought ever held importance.
“Sam Kelly,” he snapped. “And this better be goddamn important.”
“Kelly,” the brisk acknowledgment came, and there was a brief tingle of recognition that flickered through Sam’s mind, but he couldn’t place the voice to save his life.
“You have me at a disadvantage,” Sam said, an edge to his voice. “Who are you and how did you get this number?”
The voice sounded dim. Haggard. Like he’d been to hell and back and was only barely living to tell the tale. “I doubt you’d remember my name, but you’d know my team leader. I’m Conrad. I work for . . . Hancock.”
“Fuck!”
The entire room came to attention. Silence was immediate as every single member of KGI crowded in close, watching Sam’s every movement, his body language, and straining to hear what was being said on the other side.
“And why are you calling me—us—since I assume you aren’t calling to have a personal chat with me,” Sam said bluntly.
“Look, I don’t have much time. He doesn’t have much time. Most importantly, she doesn’t have any time,” he said in a voice that turned savage in a split second. “I’m not interested in dick sizing or having a pissing match. I—we—need your help. As much as you can give. And I need you to move out now. I wouldn’t ask this if it weren’t a matter of life and death, and not just Hancock’s life, which may or may not even be an issue, or even the man we’ve already lost. But there is an innocent woman even now in the hands of Maksimov, a man we’ve been close to shutting down on two previous occasions, but we forfeited our mission to save two of your women and one of your children.”
Rio stiffened and extended his hand for the phone. It wasn’t a request. Sam handed it over without question, but he pushed the speakerphone button so they’d all be in the loop. Rio used to lead Titan. He knew this man, and Sam trusted Rio and his instincts. Rio wouldn’t guide them wrong.
“This is Rio,” he said.
“Rio, it’s Conrad.”
Relief was evident in Conrad’s voice.
“I don’t have a lot of time to explain,” Conrad continued. “But it’s bad, Rio. Real bad. We had Maksimov in our sights. Again. We had something he wanted very desperately, and all we had to do was hand her over and we were in.”
“She?” P.J. and Skylar echoed at the same time, scowls darkening their faces. “Is that how you win your battles at Titan?”
“She was never supposed to be within a mile of Maksimov,” Conrad said, impatience simmering in his voice. “Look, do you have your doctor on hand? If she can’t tell me how to help or fix Hancock, he’s going to die. And goddamn it, we need your . . . help.”
Any other time, such a statement would begin an endless chain of torment, sly innuendo, smugness and arrogance that would end in bloodshed on both sides. All in good fun, of course. Except that there was very real animosity between the two groups. But they also owed Hancock, and Sam paid all his debts. Every last one. And they owed Hancock big.
“Maksimov has her now,” Conrad said painfully. As though he gave a damn. Like he had a heart.