Eric (In the Company of Snipers Book 15) by Irish Winters

Author:Irish Winters [Winters, Irish]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Windy Days Press
Published: 2017-07-10T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Eric’s palm on her shoulder brought them face-to-face. “Let’s not jump to conclusions, Shea. Carlson’s a sneaky SOB. He might’ve been casting doubt where there was none.”

It was so like him to offer hope, but this was bad. Still, Shea tied a knot in the end of that lifeline he’d just tossed, and chose to believe in her friends. There had to be an explanation for what Phoenix had done.

“What else did you record?” Eric asked, reassurance on his handsome face.

“Things,” she replied, quietly evading the question as her fingers wavered over the keyboard. Her heart was torn.

“So now we wait?” Murphy asked from his comfortable chair.

“It shouldn’t take long,” she assured, working on catching her balance. “He’s an important guest.”

Eric grunted. “At least he thinks so.”

As if on cue, Carlson’s smug voice slithered through Murphy’s computer speakers. “Alex Stewart? Well, well, well. What can I do for you?”

“My man will contact you tomorrow morning,” Alex informed their mark abruptly.

My man? As in—Eric?

Shea twisted around to Murphy, the guy sitting next to her with a cocky smile on his face, and his cellphone in his hand. “You told Alex to call Carlson?” She wished she’d thought of that.

“’Course. I might be an old fart, but I know how to text.”

Straightening, Eric grinned as he rubbed his hands. “Good thinking. I’m ready for some payback. How far to Ashford?”

Murphy leaned forward, his elbows to his knees. “That depends. It’s a good two hundred kilometers northwest of here if you plan on driving. Less if you want to fly. What’s the plan, Eric?”

“You heard the boss. The plan is I go in and get Jordan and the others out.”

“Shhhhh,” Shea whispered, her index finger to her lips while Alex and Carlson continued sparring. Her heart was stuck in her throat at this unexpectedly quick resolution. Why did Eric have to be the one to confront Carlson?

Shea brought up a map of the interior of the castle and pinpointed Carlson’s location. Her spiders had served her well. His room was located at ground level. West side. Oldest part of the castle.

She double-checked the spider’s findings against the hotel registry. My, my. Carlson occupied the two adjacent suites as well. That gave him sole access to that entire wing, including a private side entrance. He could come and go as he pleased.

“Expect Agent Reynolds at daybreak,” Alex snapped, “and trust me, he will be taking Hannigan with him when he goes. The others, too. They’d better be there.”

Shea nodded at Alex’s bold order. You tell him.

“Hold that thought,” Carlson’s gravelly tone pitched a note deeper. “I said I was willing to negotiate, but I’m not giving up my ace in the hole.”

“I don’t negotiate with terrorists, rich or not,” Alex hissed.

“You do now. You want your man? I want Finn Powers. Deal?”

“You’ll ensure Reynolds and Hannigan are safely out of Ashford by zero eight hundred hours tomorrow or—”

“Are you threatening me, Stewart? You? An American has-been?”

Silence. Click. Typical. Alex didn’t waste time negotiating. He’d hung up.

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