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Wallace’s face reddened. “I’m not a fed or a cheater. Besides, who do you think I’m planning to use the missile against?”
Trace folded his arms. “What’s your target?”
“Why should I tell you?”
“I’d prefer to be away from your target, and I don’t want my woman anywhere near the area. The odds of you actually succeeding are almost nil, by the way.”
“Tell him your target,” Hugo said to Wallace. “He’s rather protective of Ms. Ramsey.”
“Forget it. How do I know he’s not a fed?”
Trace snorted. “Do I look like a fed?” The slight was insulting and, based on the chuckles coming from his ear piece, his teammates agreed. He’d face months of ragging about Wallace’s question.
“I don’t know anything about this man, Torino. I won’t trust someone I haven’t vetted myself.” His expression darkened. “I’m not telling you, either. I paid your asking price and now the weapon belongs to me. What I do with my weapon is not your business.”
Temper flared in the depths of Hugo’s eyes. “Careful, Wallace. Threatening me is dangerous.”
“Not a threat. Truth.” He looked at Trace. “I have an engineer and a refugee from the missile program who pledged their loyalty to me. They gave me what I need to prevent the government from interfering with my plans.”
Trace schooled his features so they remained neutral while inside he seethed. If Wallace told the truth, he might have ways for his missile to evade defense tactics.
Wallace strode toward the door where Benito waited to escort him out. He glanced over his shoulder. “I’ll expect delivery of the goods within 24 hours. Provided everything goes off without a hitch, I’ll place another order within the month. Good night, gentlemen.”
Hugo’s jaw hardened. “I may not be accepting more of Mr. Wallace’s business.”
“What’s his target?” Trace asked. If Wallace slipped through the fed net, a distinct possibility with their track record, Maddox could pass on a warning to the president.
“Your Supreme Court.”
Trace gave a soft whistle, surprised at the bold plan. “High profile target. Did he say why he plans to kill the justices?”
“He didn’t tell me.”
“If Wallace didn’t divulge his plans, how do you know the Supreme Court is his target?”
“I employ many people, Mr. Rawlins, and I only hire the best. I know more than you think.”
Trace’s heart kicked. That sounded like a threat. Did Hugo know about Trace and Bridget? Was the crime boss blowing smoke or did he have the connections to confirm Wallace’s target and Trace and Bridget’s identity?
If he knew about Trace and Bridget, he hadn’t learned the information from Fortress. Zane would know if their cyber security had been compromised. That still left the possibility Hugo recognized Bridget from the photos at the Monihan house or from his own research. As good as Bridget’s makeup was, the disguise wasn’t foolproof.
“I suppose you won’t take Ms. Ramsey to Washington, D.C. for a vacation.”
“No, I won’t. I owe you for the warning.”
An interested gleam filled Hugo’s eyes. “We’ll talk about repayment the next time I need your services. Unfortunately, that may be necessary sooner than I anticipated.”
Trace studied the other man. Another hidden message in the statements? “The more I know, the faster I can resolve a problem.”
A slow, thoughtful nod. “If I require your skill, speed will be of the essence. Failure will cost you.”
“I don’t respond well to threats and I have a long memory.”
“And I have a long reach.” He leaned back against his desk, gaze locked on Trace. “My beloved Roxanne is reluctant to wed. I have one object to leverage to keep my bride in line.”
Bridget. This slime ball was talking about sending Trace to either capture or kill Bridget. He maintained his silence, knowing the crime boss would be compelled to explain more in the wake of Trace’s silence.
“Roxanne is mine. I will mold her into the showpiece I desire.”
