Countermeasure (41 page)

Trev? There’s more.

What?

Remember the other guy you asked me to trace? He has also been in contact with the same suit. I managed to find and trace a phone registered to this Niklas guy. He made a call to the suit today. I’m still waiting on the transcript. In the meantime, I put a lock on the cell signal. Trev, it’s currently travelling at a very fast speed.

****

Biding his time during the transfer to the Paris, Niklas had lost sight of Ms. James and her companion, but he was certain they were on the same train. Boarding the car closest to the engine, he had waited until the doors closed to start his search. The two lovebirds weren’t going anywhere during the next six hours. Plenty of time to locate and retrieve the hard drive and dispose of them.

Passing through to the next car, he walked down the narrow corridor that ran alongside the windows and knocked on each cabin door, offering a quick, “Sorry, wrong cabin” or “Sorry, these doors all look alike” once he had verified the passengers inside were not the ones he itched to get his hands on.

Niklas was on the hunt and enjoying it. His anticipation built each time he knocked on a door and had to wait for an answer. To him it was like hovering on the verge of a climax. He was confident he’d find them soon. When he did, he’d have what he wanted and more. A smirk overtook his mouth and it almost watered while he planned out the “and more” he would take from Ms. James. He was also looking forward to owning more of his buddy’s already indebted soul. Considering his position, it could become handy in future business dealings.

Niklas continued to methodically check each train car. His thoughts honed in on Ms. James. Her presence in Monte Carlo at the same time as Kenyon, the shock on Kenyon’s face on learning the hard drive was not where he had left it, the fact that the formula had been under her protection when it was copied, and—the most interesting tidbit of all—that she was a CIA ex-operative.

In his world, there were no coincidences. If something smelled off, it was definitely rotten. And everything about this job and Ms. James smelled as rotten as a decomposing corpse—a stench he knew well.

Niklas’s envy flared when his thoughts touched on the CIA again. He’d wanted to join the Agency back in his military days but was summarily dismissed. He’d never quite gotten over his frustration and fury at being told he wasn’t good enough. His hatred flared. Who were
they
to tell
him
he wasn’t good enough?

His fists clenched and unclenched in anger. Maybe he would have some fun with Ms. James before carrying out the kill order. Considering her CIA experience, he might enjoy a “conversation” with her, testing her resolve and skills to see why
she
had been chosen and not
him
.

He pictured the great pleasure he would take in bringing the woman down, the one who had turned a simple retrieval and clean-up job into a total clusterfuck. A smirk spread across his face. A lesson was definitely in order.

****

George’s last piece of Intel set off an alarm in Trevor’s head. He knew immediately they were in for a world of hurt. The pieces were now falling into place and he was positive Cassandra was the woman Niklas had been after. She had been in the crosshairs from the moment Trevor had decided to help her.

Trevor had to warn her. They needed to find a safer place on the train to hole up in until they reached Paris. The private cabin was less exposed than the coach, but it still wasn’t safe enough, considering who was on board hunting them. He quickly closed and shoved the laptop aside and headed to look for her. Barging out the door, he bumped into someone and looked down to meet cold, calculating, pale blue eyes. His stomach tightened. The hunter had found them.

The cabin door opened and Niklas instantly recognized the man barging out. He stood his ground and chuckled inside when the man—Ms. James’s companion—collided with him. He appeared startled for just a millisecond and then recognition settled in his eyes. Somehow, the man knew who he was. That intrigued Niklas even more.

Niklas pulled his gun from inside his jacket, pointed it at him, and forced him back into the cabin. It amused Niklas that the man appeared to be weighing his options as if he had any.

“Don’t bother. You have none.”

Trevor knew exactly what Niklas wanted. He stalled for time. “Who are you? What do you want?”

“Let’s skip the cat-and-mouse game, why don’t we? Where’s Ms. James?”

Trevor’s hands balled into fists. “She’s not on board.”

“Cut the crap, whoever you are. I know she’s here. I watched you board in Monte Carlo.”

Trevor tried to misdirect Niklas’s attention. “Did you see us board in Nice?”

“No, but I am pretty sure that if you’re here then she’s not too far.”

Cassandra. Trevor prayed she took her time coming back from the restaurant, but their luck had run out. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement at the door and his worst fears were confirmed. Cassandra was back.
Shite!

Cassandra walked into their car carrying the drinks and sandwich she planned to share with Trevor. At first she thought she had gone one car too far when she observed an unfamiliar man standing just inside. She looked at the number above the door and confirmed she was in the right place.

She eased forward and caught the reflection of the cabin in the large train window across from it. Through the reflection, she saw that the man held something in his hand. Something pointed at Trevor. A rush of adrenaline hit her.
Shit!
As quickly as the yell echoed in her head, the training ingrained in her—first by her father and then by the CIA—kicked in. Her pulse raced; she closed off all emotions and reacted. She dropped the drinks and sandwich to free her hands. The noise distracted the man. His head swerved in her direction and a hint of a smirk appeared in his eyes. A shuffling in the cabin attracted the man’s attention again and all hell broke loose. She heard a loud impact, the man jerked back violently, and there was another loud crash inside the cabin. Cassandra’s instincts spurred her to charge and tackle him as he fell back through the door. Their momentum took them to the floor of the narrow corridor.

Cassandra landed on top of the man, whom she now recognized as Niklas. Now sporting a gash on his cheek and stunned from the blow, he gasped for breath. She took advantage of his condition and banged his wrist against the hard floor to release his grip on the gun. The high-caliber pistol popped from his fingers and she scrambled for it as it slid across the floor.

Niklas swung his elbow at her face, she jerked her head to the side, and his elbow connected with her shoulder. She grunted in pain, but before she could catch her breath, Niklas grabbed her by the shirt and flipped her over him. She slammed to the floor on her back. The impact knocked the air from her lungs and rattled her teeth. A shaft of pain speared through her. In the distance, she heard Trevor yell her name.

Trevor’s only thoughts were to divert Niklas’s attention from Cassandra and give her time to run. A clatter sounded outside and distracted Niklas. Without thinking, Trevor grabbed his laptop and swung Jack at Niklas’s face. The laptop’s case sliced across his cheek and Niklas stumbled back out the door. Cassandra was a blur of movement as she rushed and tackled him before he hit the floor.

“Cassie!” He ran into the mêlée in time to see Niklas slam Cassandra to the ground and roll to his feet. Rage filled Trevor when Niklas lifted his foot to stomp on her. He charged at Niklas, aiming a punch to his face. His knuckles connected with the side of Niklas’s cheek and Trevor groaned as a current of pain shot up from his wrist to his elbow. Niklas’s head barely snapped to the side, as if Trevor hadn’t even touched him. With a malicious grin, he grabbed Trevor by the neck and slammed him back against the window. Trevor groaned again on impact. The sound of the glass cracking echoed in his ears as lines splintered across the window. Pain spread like a wave across his face and his vision blurred.

Pressing his hands against the glass, Trevor pushed to the side in a fluid motion, twisting his body around to face Niklas. With a snarl, Niklas shifted his hand to Trevor’s face. He caged it with his fingers and dug deep into his flesh. Trevor shoved hard against his wrist and worked at prying off his hand. He swung his other fist and connected with Niklas’s chin. Niklas’s head popped up and his eyes snared Trevor’s as he tightened his hold. Trevor reached out and dug his own fingers into Niklas’s face.

Rivulets of sweat ran down their temples at the exertion of the fight as they continued to hold each other’s eyes. Loud grunts filled the air as they fought for control. Trevor jabbed his thumb into Niklas’s eye. He roared in rage, jerking Trevor from the glass, slamming him on his back to the floor, winding him. A fresh wave of pain washed over him as everything went black.

Cassandra saw Trevor charge Niklas and her heart fell to her stomach. Struggling for breath, she looked for the gun and saw it lying by the neighboring cabin’s door.

The sound of cracking glass and the sharp bark of pain that followed cleared her mind. She looked up to see Niklas pressing Trevor’s head against the window. The look of determination on Trevor’s face fueled her. She rose to her knees and moved for the gun again. The vicious struggle behind her renewed her efforts to take possession of it.

Hope flooded her when the gun was within reach of her fingers, but just before she could grip it in her hand, she was rammed from behind and pinned to the floor. She hissed through her teeth when her head was jerked back by her hair and a hand squeezed her windpipe. She bucked and twisted to dislodge the weight while trying to pry the hand from her throat.

Hot breath caressed her cheek and her skin crawled when the sadistic voice burned in her memory whispered in her ear, “Is this what they taught you at the Farm, Ms. James? Pathetic! Truly pathetic!”

Niklas laughed at her struggles and pulled her tighter against him, bowing her body off the floor. “Where’s the hard drive Kenyon gave you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she gasped. Tears glazed her eyes as she braced herself on her arms to try to ease some of the strain to her back.

“The hard drive Ms. James. Where is the hard drive? I want it now!”

“I already told you! I don’t have any hard drive!”

Cassandra’s heart raced out of control and cried out at the thought that Trevor had been badly hurt. She couldn’t see or hear him. Struggling, she reached back to grab the wrist twisting her hair.

She heard Niklas chuckle and click his tongue at her efforts. “Is this all you can do, Ms. James? Such a disappointment. I’d expected much more from our encounter. Had looked forward to it, actually.”

He loosened his grip on her hair and the pain abruptly eased, but Cassandra’s relief was short-lived. Pain blossomed from her neck when his fingers dug deep into her skin, pressing against her windpipe again, making it even harder to suck in air. In that moment, all the memories of what Niklas had put Kenyon through hit her, and her only thought was to escape his grip.

She blanked her mind to everything around her and slammed her head back into Niklas’s face. She heard a stomach-turning crunch followed by an agonized yell. Unbearable pain exploded in the back of her head and darkness invaded her vision, but still she struggled through it.

Niklas tightened his fingers in her hair. “Bitch! You fucking broke my nose! You’re dead!”

Cassandra’s pulse raced into overdrive. With a surge of adrenaline and gasping for breath, she brought her hand up to her throat and wiggled her fingers underneath his, which had loosened slightly on impact. With the other hand, she grabbed hold of two of his fingers and pulled back with all her might.

“Fuck!” The scream kicked off a loud ringing in her ear and the cuff to her head dropped her to the floor again. She grunted as he pushed away from her and continued to curse up a storm in pain.

She heard the sound of his feet shuffling her way again. She kicked her leg out and, sweeping it, knocked his out from under him. As he dropped to the floor, she rolled to her feet and ran to the door connecting to the next car to put distance between them.

As she reached out for the handle, Niklas grabbed her and slammed her first into the metal door and then back against the wall. Cassandra cried out as pain burst across her face and burned along her back.

Grunts and a cry of pain met Trevor’s ears when he came to.
Cassandra!
He shook his head, rolled to his feet, and dove back into the fight, reaching Niklas before he could do more damage to Cassandra. The bruises he saw on Cassandra’s face as he charged Niklas burned in his mind and fanned his anger. His focus narrowed to beating the shit out of Niklas. He straddled Niklas’s chest and furiously punched him in the face. Their grunts filled the corridor as they traded blow for blow. Niklas bled profusely from the gash Jack had opened on his cheek and the damage Cassandra had inflicted on his nose.
That’s my girl!

Niklas’s manic laugh rang through the corridor as he became a machine, pounding away at Trevor like he was his own personal punching bag. Suddenly, Niklas grabbed Trevor by the shirt and flipped him over his head. Trevor landed on his back, but quickly rolled to his feet and turned to face Niklas.

They charged at each other, but Niklas’s years of military training gave him the advantage. At the last minute, Niklas pivoted, dug his fingers into the back of Trevor’s arm and elbow, and sent him flying into the wall of the train. The sound of Trevor’s body hitting the floor was loud in the tight quarters.

Cassandra saw Trevor lying on the floor and her mouth went dry. Out of the corner of her eye, she spied the gun near the door of their cabin. She dove for it, but Niklas knocked her out of the way with a kick to the gut. She grunted and rolled to her side with an arm wrapped across her middle. Niklas grabbed the gun and turned it on Trevor, who had risen to his feet at the same time as Cassandra. He stared back at Niklas defiantly.