“Sadly, it doesn’t take much effort to list reasons why Dragan might want the mother dead,” Sydney went on, shifting her focus to Jesse as if she’d already argued too much with Gray and was done with him. “It could also be that the brother made a deal with Aleksa. Aleksa was Zoran’s right-hand man. He may have wanted Zoran dead to take over the business, but the plan would only work with the wife out of the picture.” She paused to let her words sink in. “Thatcher lied to you, if you haven’t figured it out. The wife wasn’t innocent. She was as crooked as her husband and very involved in their organization.”
Well, that wasn’t a shock—Thatcher lying. Nothing would surprise Jesse anymore when it came to that man, not unless he’d done something saintly.
“But would Dragan go to such great lengths to raise his son himself? Kill his own brother? The mother of his child?” Jesse thought about his own father, and a shiver rolled down his spine.
“You see, there are too many holes in their theory.” Carter folded his arms tight across his chest. “And where’s the DNA test to prove any of this?” When no one responded, he huffed out, “Exactly.”
“Is it so hard for you to believe Dragan only wanted the best for his son? And he wanted to raise him, not send him off to some boarding school?” Zoey stood before Carter and placed her hand on his chest. Carter dipped his chin to look at her as if she were insane for touching him. “Is it possible he wasn’t like Zoran, and he didn’t want two criminals taking care of his only child?”
Carter leaned closer to her, drawing his face near hers. “Are you suggesting he did the right thing? That his actions were justified?”
“No, of course not. But some people do crazy things for the people they love.” Zoey’s voice cracked under Carter’s vicious stare. A bit surprising she’d allowed him to get under her skin after remaining strong all night. Well, all morning.
“And some people are just plain crazy,” Carter coldly remarked.
“Maybe we should all take a step back,” Ella spoke up. “Literally.”
Carter swiveled his focus toward Ella, and, lucky for him, lost the growly-look because team leader or not, the only man allowed to snarl at his woman would be Jesse, right before he ravaged her in bed.
“Even if any of this is true,” Gray began as Carter took a step back from Zoey, which had her letting go of a breath, “how does that help us?”
Sydney and Zoey eyed Gray at the same time. “We do what Thatcher did. Leak the intel,” Zoey announced. “Plant seeds of doubt in Zoran’s mind that his own flesh and blood tried to murder him. That his brother, and possibly Aleksa, set him up and turned him over to Bulgarian Intelligence,” she went on, her British accent growing a bit thicker as she spoke that time. “And Zoran will have no choice but to go to his brother. Maybe Aleksa too. Confront them. He won’t be able to stop himself.”
“Zoran knows Aleksa is being watched and has to assume Dragan is as well. He won’t take that risk,” Gray countered.
“And people also do crazy things when they’re burned by the people they trust,” Zoey said, and Jesse was certain the jab from her was meant for Carter, but Carter didn’t so much as tighten his jaw at her words. No reaction. “My guess is Zoran goes after the one who means the most to him. His brother.” She pursed her lips for a moment. “He’ll go to Austria. And Yuri will know that if Zoran goes there . . . so will we.”
But would they really go to Austria knowing Yuri would be expecting them to? Give the prick time to lay out his own plans for their arrival? Plus, the CIA and MI6 probably wouldn’t be able to fly an unmanned drone over German or Austrian airspace. His team would lose their “eyes in the sky” advantage. Which Yuri will want and anticipate. Shit.
“I need facts. Evidence. Confirmation that any of this is possible. Or that you can even get word to Zoran about this. We can’t whisper in another Bulgarian officer’s ear the way Thatcher did about Jesse being the shooter,” Gray said in a level tone as Carter remained still and silent.
“DGSE didn’t have a problem leaking our presence when we arrived in Paris. Word clearly got to Zoran and Yuri. If French Intelligence can do it, so can we,” Zoey tossed back, ignoring his remark about needing proof.
Jesse cupped the back of his neck, working at the kinks there as he considered the idea, thinking back over the last few days and how everything had unfolded.
Thatcher never wanted Jesse back with the CIA. He’d expected and needed Jesse to stay with Falcon to draw out Carter. All a fucking act, right down to his questions about Ella and the team in the workshop.
And Rochella, damn it. He still wished he’d pummeled Henry, but for Ella’s sake, he’d withheld his anger. But it’d been Thatcher who’d ultimately sent the prick to Alabama, and on the same damn day that he’d given Jesse the Zoran case file.
Thatcher had strategically set up the dominoes because the man knew everything about everyone, and all he had to do was knock one down, and his plans fell the way he’d intended.
So, how the hell were they supposed to stop something already in motion? Thatcher was relentless in taking down his marks, and he’d go to any lengths for justice. But justice came with a price this time—Ella at the center of it all.
Take her to Austria? Could he do that? Place her right in front of their two enemies, one of whom happened to be a man even the best of the best Russian assassins feared?
“Thatcher will do anything to complete a mission,” Jesse said under his breath when another thought struck him. He’ll do anything. Absolutely anything.
The wheels of his mind kept spinning as he struggled to make the dramatic leap he felt coming but hated to admit might be true. But would Thatcher really . . .?
“What is it?” Carter asked, sensing Jesse had stumbled onto something.
“We need Thatcher on the phone. I think he can confirm these theories. Like you said, he had to have known about the wife’s involvement in the business, which means he may know a lot more.” His stomach muscles tensed, and his body shook with anger as he revealed, “I think Thatcher was the second shooter. He’s the one who killed Zoran’s wife.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“You’re digging your own grave, Thatcher. I’d get to the point. Answer my question.” The fierce and heated look in Jesse’s eyes had Ella turning to the fireplace, her nerves stretching like she was inside one of those saltwater taffy machines being pulled apart.
The crackle of a loud exhale sounded over the speakerphone, but Jesse’s former boss didn’t speak up. And wasn’t that an answer in itself? No response was still a response.
Ella caught Savanna’s eyes as she came into the room a moment later, refreshed from sleep and a shower from the looks of it. She shot Ella a curious look, tipping her head toward Jesse. His rumbly tone must have traveled all the way upstairs. In response, Ella shook her head—It’s not good.
Ella then walked behind where Jesse and Carter stood with the phone between them to get to the fire and lowered herself to sit on the hearth, crossing her legs at her ankles to keep from jiggling her leg and drawing attention to herself in the now crowded room of operators.