Hostile Ground (The Arsenal #7) - Cara Carnes Page 0,45

taint Iriana and Kristof.

If there were more missiles out there, her undercover identity might be needed if Kristof was required to facilitate a meet with whoever had the missiles. Why knock down the doors and kick ass if you can stroll through the front door instead?

Addy knew her team and the others would get the job done without her. She’d done her part and would drive away like the obedient trophy doll she was tonight.

“I trust your men will help me load them back into whatever vehicle you brought them in,” Kristof said as he swiped on his phone.

“Of course. For a fee.” Yesim grinned as he held out a scrap of paper.

“Of course. You learned quickly. I’m impressed.” Kristof keyed in the information into the app Zoey had loaded onto his phone a couple hours ago.

“I heard of your trouble at the club,” the man said. “You have made many enemies.”

“As will you if you do this as often as I.” Kristof punched a button and then shoved his cell into his pocket. “Iriana, be a dear and phone Pyotr. Tell him to go to the back and drive the truck.”

Pyotr, aka Nolan, was already around back, but Addy dutifully complied. She kept her gaze sweeping the area as she spoke into the phone, then ended the call and put it back in her purse.

“Come, lover. Let’s go play with your new toys.” She ran a hand down his chest.

“You can play here,” Yesim offered.

“Another time. I’m afraid I’ll have to call around and find more weapons since you had less than I needed.” Kristof wrapped a hand around Addy. “After I play.”

“I will ask around. Perhaps I can get more,” Yesim offered.

“That would be good.” Kristof turned and headed toward the main exit.

They were halfway down the steps when Fatima approached. Her full lips thinned into a grim expression. “Kristof, we must talk.”

“Now’s not a good time, Fatima. I’ll phone tomorrow.”

“It’s important,” the woman said.

“Very well. Get in.” Kristof motioned toward the vehicle.

“What the hell is he doing? She’s not a variable in any of this,” Zoey said.

“She can wait,” Addy said.

“I can’t.” The woman’s voice spiked. “Please, Kristof.”

“Get in.” Kristof opened the car door. The woman scurried in. Kristof followed. Addy entered last and slammed the door.

Son of a bitch. They didn’t have time for whatever this was.

“Target zone one clear,” Mary said as the car pulled away from the curb.

“You came alone tonight,” Kristof said. “That was reckless.”

“I had no choice.” The woman cut her gaze to Addy. “Perhaps we should wait until we are alone.”

“Whatever this is you say it in front of Iriana or you get out now.”

“I need those weapons.”

“That’s not happening,” Addy said. Who the hell was she to Kristof and why had he let her in the car?

The woman shifted sideways and took Kristof’s hand. “They have my father.”

“Narek Adamian, an Armenian weapons dealer. He’s been put on quite a few radars the past few years but hasn’t been touchable so far,” Mary said. “Let’s hear her out and figure who knows about these weapons.”

“Who has him?” Kristof asked.

“I don’t know. I would’ve already unleashed the fires of hell on them if I did!” The woman flopped back in her seat. “Give me those weapons. You owe me. They won’t release him until I turn over the missiles.”

“First, you owe me more than you will ever be able to repay. Second, you don’t have the funds for this. Do you?”

“You know nothing.”

“I know your father was injured in an IED blast three years ago and you’ve assumed control of his work while he recovers. I’ve done what I could to keep that from being common knowledge—both for you and him. Few of those you work with would do so if they knew you’re more than an errand girl.”

“You threaten me?” The woman punched Kristof’s wounded shoulder.

Pain flashed across his face. Addy moved to intervene, but he braced a hand across her body and shook his head.

“Fatima is an old friend. She won’t harm me.”

Right. Old friend. “She already has. Don’t touch him again. He’s injured, someone tried to kill him.”

“What?” The woman’s eyes widened. “Who? Tell me!”

“It’s being handled,” Kristof said.

The woman crossed her arms. “I apologize. I won’t unleash the fires on you. You’re okay?”

“I’m fine. You should curtail that threat, Fatima. The more you use it, the weaker it becomes.” Kristof shifted in his seat and rubbed his injured shoulder. “Tell me what you know about whoever has your