“It’s not what you think,” Carter spoke up, ending the theorizing. “I’ll explain what I know on the way.”
About damn time. Jesse secured his Beretta M9 to his side and another 9mm at his leg. Then he strapped the sheath containing his favorite stainless steel sawback bladed knife to his other leg. And lastly, he slung the strap of his M4 around his neck. If Ella was hurt in any way, it’d be a bloodbath.
“Shit, all that hard work Sydney did infiltrating Aleksa’s,” Oliver began after digging through one of their bags, but Aleksa was the last thing on Jesse’s mind right now, “and the French took the software.”
“Griffin and I will take the first vehicle. Gray and Jack the second. Jesse and Oliver, you’re in the third.” Carter shut the trunks as soon as everyone had their gear. “I’ll put us all on a call in a minute to tell you what I know.”
After Jesse had on his chest plate and vest with mags, he hopped into the passenger side of the vehicle in a hurry, trying Ella again with no luck as Oliver followed the others.
Jesse mounted his phone to the dashboard, wanting to call Thatcher to demand answers, but he knew Carter would be calling any second, so the conversation with his old boss would have to wait until after Ella was safe. “Ella’s okay,” he said under his breath. “If someone at DGSE really did tip off Zoran that we’re here, then he won’t hurt her without me there to watch.”
“And Savanna? Sydney?” Oliver asked while changing lanes. “He has no reason to keep them alive.”
“Damn it, you’re right,” he said while accepting the call from Carter on speakerphone. “What do you know?”
“No answer at the Rochella estate. Lines may have been cut. Or the signal blocked,” Carter dropped the bad news on them. News that could only mean . . .
The worst-case scenario was playing out now.
“Tell us what you know,” Jesse demanded, worried Carter was somehow responsible for placing Ella in danger, even if it was ultimately Jesse’s failed hit last year that sparked the domino effect.
“I learned today that Thatcher left out a few important details from the case file he handed over to you,” Carter slowly revealed, and if he went any slower, Jesse would likely snap. “The CIA, French Intelligence, and MI6 are all after the same man.”
“You?” Oliver asked.
“No. Not today, at least.” Carter paused. “When Zoran appeared on CCTV footage in Bulgaria, what Thatcher didn’t tell you is that he was in a wheelchair, and it looks like he’s not the one personally coming after you. He hired out.”
The blood rushed from Jesse’s face at Carter’s words. “Who? Who the fuck is coming after Ella? After me?”
“The MI6 officer couldn’t tell me too much, and she had to keep knocking the wind from me to get close enough to whisper in my ear without drawing attention,” Carter quickly shared, “and yes, I trust her, despite her being a pain in my ass . . . but she said she began working with the CIA as soon as they learned who Zoran hired to carry out his revenge. Thatcher has a bigger fish to catch than Zoran, and they used Jesse to get to me.”
Static crossed the line, not a good sign. If someone was at the Rochella property with a jamming device to cut all comms, the team would be going dark soon.
“I assume DGSE was brought in by Thatcher when he learned we were headed for Paris.” Carter paused, or maybe it was static. “Today was just a stunt to put the word out there that I’m in Paris along with Jesse and Ella. I’m the key piece to their plan.” More static while Carter was speaking, damn it.
“Who? Who the hell . . . after you that the CIA and the . . .” Shit, they were losing the connection.
“The Chech . . .” The line cut out again, but Jesse knew what he was going to say, and a surge of anger had him losing control, punching the dashboard with his free hand.
Oliver side-eyed Jesse. “You know who Carter was talking about, I assume?”
Jesse nodded. “The Chechen,” he responded, wishing like all hell it wasn’t true.
“You’re shitting me. I thought he was just a myth. A bedtime story the Russians told to scare the shit out of their kids about Chechnya. The hitman, The Chechen, is real?”
“Can you hear me?” Carter asked a moment later.
“That’s a good copy,” Oliver quickly responded.
“I’m the only one who has ever faced him and survived,” Carter explained. “Not even those who hire him know what he looks like. But MI6 intercepted intelligence shortly after the Bulgarian agents were killed that it was The Chechen’s team who performed the hits, and MI6 alerted the CIA.”
It wasn’t just Zoran they had to worry about. The most psychotic of all hitmen known to exist, a man even the most deadly Russian assassins feared, was now after the woman he loved.
And Jesse had walked right into the Agency’s trap to draw out The Chechen, using his new working relationship with Carter to help them get to the elusive hitman. Zoran would’ve come for Jesse regardless, but damned if he felt . . .
Before Jesse could think or say more, Griffin announced, “We’re here. But—”
The line went dead. And when Jesse peered out the window, he knew why. Someone must have set a breaching charge to the front gate of the Rochella estate. The property had already been hit. The blast had torn the double gates clear from their hinges, and it appeared vehicles had rolled right over the mangled metal.
The DGSE sent Jesse’s team there, knowing damn well the women were in danger, but why in the hell weren’t they also there for an assist as Oliver had questioned, especially if the agencies wanted their mark bad enough they were willing to risk Ella’s life to get him?
That could only mean one thing—The Chechen, himself, wouldn’t be showing his face tonight, and the CIA and other agencies must have anticipated that.
Bait. The girls and my team are the bait in hopes The Chechen will eventually come for us himself. And all three agencies would sit and wait, using them, until The Chechen made his moves.
“They better still be in there and alive.” Jesse sent a silent prayer up as he exited the vehicle, no time to lose.
But he knew one thing for damn certain. After Ella and the others were safe, and once Jesse and his men took down Zoran and The Chechen—Thatcher and any officer responsible for placing Ella in danger had better hide because Jesse would be coming for them next.
Chapter Seventeen
Ten Minutes Earlier
“What are you thinking?” Ella quietly asked Sydney, hoping to get her thoughts on this strange situation. She’d been noticeably quiet since Henry Rochella had picked the three of them up, and Ella was curious to know if Sydney’s radar was in sync with her own. That there was something a little fishy about . . . well, everything.
Ella joined Sydney by the window inside Henry’s second-floor study and looked out at the property. There were enough antique-style lampposts illuminating the grounds that the coat of snow on the ground sparkled.
“Yeah, what do you think?” Savanna softly chimed in, clearly curious for Sydney to share her thoughts as well now that they were alone for the first time.