Chapter Five
Tony Prather had no idea who or what Connor Bowen was, but the man was on his way up to the executive floor of Baxter Industries. Tony glanced out of his conference room window to the Washington, D.C., skyline in the distance. His Rosslyn office had a view across the Potomac River to Georgetown.
He’d worked hard for his position with the big office, complete with private executive bathroom and two administrative assistants. He wasn’t accustomed to jumping when others issued orders. If anyone other than Rafe Algier had phoned in from a trip abroad and asked, Tony would have had someone on his staff offer an excuse and insist he couldn’t be disturbed.
But Algier Security had sent work Baxter’s way, and back when business was floundering Rafe had provided some much-needed contracts and personnel to help keep Baxter’s doors open. Tony had a strong loyalty to the man. It was why he had agreed to hire his daughter for the executive retreat.
Well, part of the reason. Tony didn’t get where he was by being soft. His obligation didn’t pass from Rafe to his daughter.
Tony had taken over the reins of Baxter after a coup by the old board of directors. When the bottom fell out of the financial markets and business dried up, the old president and chief executive officer lost the confidence of everyone from shareholders to the management staff. Tony stepped in and got the place running again. He expanded the company’s services.
They no longer just provided tech and personnel to government agencies. Now his people staffed Fortune 500 companies and smaller businesses. Anyone who didn’t want to pay employee benefits and could afford Baxter’s bills was welcome.
But that didn’t mean he had time to babysit some guy with an agenda. And Rafe hadn’t taken the time to explain anything, which ticked Tony off. He had other worries. All his plans, those tenuous pieces he needed to come together and fit just so, were breaking down. He had a partner he didn’t trust and a problem he needed to fix.
He’d rebuilt it all and couldn’t afford to have it crumble now. Not when he was so close to the end.
The phone on the credenza buzzed and he gave the okay for one of his assistants to usher in their unwanted guest. Better to get it over with and move on.
The man who stepped through the glass doors and stopped was not what Tony expected. Tall with dark hair, he wore a business suit minus the jacket. But that’s not what stuck out. It was the lethal look. The man appeared ready for battle. So did the muscled man behind him.
Earlier, Rafe had talked about needing to get in touch with his daughter. Tony had barely listened because the mere mention of Hope Algier’s name at this point in the process had Tony speed dialing his partner. Not that he could get through.
“I’m Connor Bowen.” The man motioned to the guy with him. “This is Davis Weeks.”
“Gentlemen.” Tony nodded because that’s what protocol demanded.
Inside, his rage boiled. He’d prepared for one of them. Bowen was president and owner of something called the Corcoran Team. The Internet and paperwork trail pointed to a threat assessment group. The kind of team that taught businessmen how not to get kidnapped while playing in Mexico and made plans for getting them out when they did.
All aboveboard and clean, but Tony recognized an off-the-books undercover operation when he saw one. And that had his interest. So did this Weeks character. The guy hadn’t blinked and if the bulge under his jacket was an indication, he’d somehow snuck a gun through security.
“I’m Tony Prather.” He motioned toward the seats across the conference table from him. “I was told only one of you would be coming.”
“Davis is my second in command. He understands the situation.”
Because Tony needed to know what that was, he played along. Still, this was his turf, so he took the lead. “What can I help you with?”
Connor leaned forward with his elbows folded on the table in front of him. “There’s a problem at your management retreat.”
A stark silence followed the statement. Tony guessed that was the point. Drop the bombshell and then assess his reaction.
He had no intention of giving them anything. “Meaning?”
This time Davis spoke up. “One of your executives is missing and there’s been some other trouble.”
“This is a get-away-from-it-all retreat. How would you know what’s happening there?” Tony had been trying to check in, and the messages he’d received made no sense.
Connor’s hand dropped to the table, and his fingers drummed on the top. “Some of my people are there.”
The information would have been good to know before now. Funny how Rafe had left that out. “Some?”