Dylan nodded. “And now we need your help.”
“Dylan...” A warning edge entered Drew’s voice.
Dylan’s gaze flashed. “The orders came from Mercer. As long as Devast is out there, she’s not going to be safe.” He jaw hardened as he stared at Drew. “Do you want that? Do you truly want her to be constantly at risk, always looking over her shoulder, always wondering when another attack might come?”
Drew’s hands fisted.
Tina clutched the bag of clothes a bit tighter. “What is it that you want me to do?”
Dylan focused back on Tina. “We don’t want you to run. We don’t want to hide you.”
Drew swore. “I told you already. I don’t like this plan. We have other options that can work.”
“Nothing that we can do now. Nothing that will be as effective as—”
“As what?” Tina demanded.
Dylan hesitated a moment, then said, “We want you to help us catch Devast.”
* * *
“SHE’S STILL ALIVE.”
Anton didn’t let his expression alter when he heard this news. “That is disappointing. You’d...assured me that she was on the plane.”
“That agent—he stopped her. I thought she’d already gotten on board, but the guy stopped her for some damn sweet talk.” Disgust thickened the words as they drifted over the phone line. “Those two must be involved. I don’t know how the hell I missed that.”
“Apparently, Agent Lancaster is a man who is very good at keeping secrets.” Drew Lancaster...not Stone Creed. That had just been an alias the agent used when he got close to HAVOC. Now Devast understood who the fellow truly was. And it was time to unearth every secret Drew Lancaster possessed.
Know your enemy. When you knew your enemy, it was easy to attack his weak spots.
“They took Tina Jamison to a local hospital then they cleared out of the place. But don’t worry, I’ll find them. Just give me a little time.”
Anton sighed. Why did everyone always think that he would tolerate failure? “Time isn’t on your side. You’d better find them, fast.” But he was already talking to a dead man. Whether this man delivered Tina Jamison or not, he was dead.
Anton had no use for traitors. Men like the agent on the phone...they’d sell out anyone.
He stared down at the photo on the desk in front of him.
Drew Lancaster.
He’d already managed to pull up some records on the man. Born in a small Mississippi town, abandoned by his father. The guy had been trouble as a kid, thrown in and out of juvenile halls. He was always running from the law.
Lancaster’s mother had worked herself to death.
And Drew Lancaster...he’d fought his way out
of that life and joined the army.
Became very, very good at killing.
Anton hung up the phone and kept staring at Drew Lancaster’s image. A man who’d come from nothing. Who existed only to kill.
Right now, Drew Lancaster was one of Mercer’s attack dogs, but, as Anton had already discovered, some of Mercer’s men could be bought...if the price was right.
Anton was good at making the price right.
He smiled as he stared down at Lancaster. Another dead man, one who just didn’t know it yet.