Endgame (Last Chance Series) Read Online Free
Author: Dee Davis
clear?"
" Crystal." Gabe allowed his tone to border on subservient. If he hadn't been so tired, he'd never have let his anger show, but he'd been undercover for months now, and the strain was obviously taking its toll. "I didn't mean offense, Cullen."
"None taken." Cullen waved off the apology. "I realize this is out of the ordinary. And the only thing I can say to reassure you is that this accord, if successful, has the power to change the face of international commerce. Which means it's as important as whatever you're doing now."
" If there's a conspiracy."
Cullen's eyes narrowed to slits, all geniality vanishing. "There is. I'm certain of it. A good deal of successful business is based on intuition, Gabriel. And I can feel this in my gut. Something's afoot. And I need you to figure out what it is." He leaned forward, his hand gripping the edge of the table, adding a feeling of urgency to his words. "You'll of course have all the funding you need. And any personnel you desire."
"I can pull together my own team?" The idea had a certain appeal, and since the assignment was inevitable, he might as well enjoy it.
"More or less. I am asking someone from the FBI to work with you. And I suspect she'll have some ideas as to the makeup of the task force."
"She?" His eyebrow shot up again, this time of its own accord.
"Madison Harper. She's with the Investigative Support Unit."
"A profiler ?" The other eyebrow rose to meet its partner, his voice breaking on his surprise.
"An excellent one." Cullen nodded, ignoring Gabe's reaction. "She's also a friend. I trust her implicitly. An d more importantly, I think she'll be the perfect complement to your more tumultuous style."
Gabe decided to let it pass. There was enough to deal with without further antagonizing the man who was apparently his new boss. "How soon do you want to get started?"
"As soon as possible. Evan has agreed to let you have anyone you need, and I have similar permission from other agencies. I want the best. And I trust that you can get them for me. Of course you'll probably want to meet Madison first."
Actually, she was the last person he wanted to meet. He wasn't a share-command kind of guy, and quite frankly the prospect of sharing it with some quasi-cerebral FBI guru made the idea that much more loathsome.
Especially when said guru was a woman.
CHAPTER TWO
NIGEL FERRIS LISTENED to the hum of the 747's engine, his ear catching the subtle whine as the pilot adjusted the flaps. Everything was fine. The fact that he was suspended in a tin can thirty thousand feet above the earth was non-negotiable.
Gabe called, and Nigel answered.
Even if it meant flying commercial.
It was ridiculous, really. He'd spent the better part of his career taking risks that no sane human would even contemplate, and here he was afraid of a bloody aeroplane.
"Can I get you something to drink, sir?" The flight attendant was a middle-aged woman, from La Paz by the sound of it. Not exactly the nubile nymphet one associated with the word stewardess .
Nigel contained a sigh. "I'll have a whiskey, neat, please." Might as well numb the discomfort churning in his gut. It wasn't just the plane. It was the whole damn thing. He smiled blankly as the woman handed him his drink, then took a sip, the accompanying burn doing little to assuage his worry.
Less than twenty-four hours ago, he'd been deep in the jungle, immersed in a world far removed from the quasi-luxury of whiskey in a plastic cup. Not that he was enjoying the fact. Truth was, he'd rather be back in camp.
He'd been close to accomplishing his goal, and now all that was blown to bloody hell.
Because of Gabriel Roarke.
Nigel leaned back against the seat, closing his eyes, the past tumbling through his mind, cushioned by the Maker's Mark. He'd first met Gabe in Saudi Arabia, part of a mission into Iraq so classified he still wasn't allowed to talk about it.
But he remembered. Dear God, he remembered. It was the stuff of his
" Crystal." Gabe allowed his tone to border on subservient. If he hadn't been so tired, he'd never have let his anger show, but he'd been undercover for months now, and the strain was obviously taking its toll. "I didn't mean offense, Cullen."
"None taken." Cullen waved off the apology. "I realize this is out of the ordinary. And the only thing I can say to reassure you is that this accord, if successful, has the power to change the face of international commerce. Which means it's as important as whatever you're doing now."
" If there's a conspiracy."
Cullen's eyes narrowed to slits, all geniality vanishing. "There is. I'm certain of it. A good deal of successful business is based on intuition, Gabriel. And I can feel this in my gut. Something's afoot. And I need you to figure out what it is." He leaned forward, his hand gripping the edge of the table, adding a feeling of urgency to his words. "You'll of course have all the funding you need. And any personnel you desire."
"I can pull together my own team?" The idea had a certain appeal, and since the assignment was inevitable, he might as well enjoy it.
"More or less. I am asking someone from the FBI to work with you. And I suspect she'll have some ideas as to the makeup of the task force."
"She?" His eyebrow shot up again, this time of its own accord.
"Madison Harper. She's with the Investigative Support Unit."
"A profiler ?" The other eyebrow rose to meet its partner, his voice breaking on his surprise.
"An excellent one." Cullen nodded, ignoring Gabe's reaction. "She's also a friend. I trust her implicitly. An d more importantly, I think she'll be the perfect complement to your more tumultuous style."
Gabe decided to let it pass. There was enough to deal with without further antagonizing the man who was apparently his new boss. "How soon do you want to get started?"
"As soon as possible. Evan has agreed to let you have anyone you need, and I have similar permission from other agencies. I want the best. And I trust that you can get them for me. Of course you'll probably want to meet Madison first."
Actually, she was the last person he wanted to meet. He wasn't a share-command kind of guy, and quite frankly the prospect of sharing it with some quasi-cerebral FBI guru made the idea that much more loathsome.
Especially when said guru was a woman.
CHAPTER TWO
NIGEL FERRIS LISTENED to the hum of the 747's engine, his ear catching the subtle whine as the pilot adjusted the flaps. Everything was fine. The fact that he was suspended in a tin can thirty thousand feet above the earth was non-negotiable.
Gabe called, and Nigel answered.
Even if it meant flying commercial.
It was ridiculous, really. He'd spent the better part of his career taking risks that no sane human would even contemplate, and here he was afraid of a bloody aeroplane.
"Can I get you something to drink, sir?" The flight attendant was a middle-aged woman, from La Paz by the sound of it. Not exactly the nubile nymphet one associated with the word stewardess .
Nigel contained a sigh. "I'll have a whiskey, neat, please." Might as well numb the discomfort churning in his gut. It wasn't just the plane. It was the whole damn thing. He smiled blankly as the woman handed him his drink, then took a sip, the accompanying burn doing little to assuage his worry.
Less than twenty-four hours ago, he'd been deep in the jungle, immersed in a world far removed from the quasi-luxury of whiskey in a plastic cup. Not that he was enjoying the fact. Truth was, he'd rather be back in camp.
He'd been close to accomplishing his goal, and now all that was blown to bloody hell.
Because of Gabriel Roarke.
Nigel leaned back against the seat, closing his eyes, the past tumbling through his mind, cushioned by the Maker's Mark. He'd first met Gabe in Saudi Arabia, part of a mission into Iraq so classified he still wasn't allowed to talk about it.
But he remembered. Dear God, he remembered. It was the stuff of his
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