Page 22 of Exacting Vengeance

Lebedev wasn’t on trial, but convicting Kolbayev would leave him without his primary brigadier and put a serious chink in his operations. Eventually, Kolbayev would be replaced, and the cycle would repeat itself.

He put another fold in the dragon, wondering if all his efforts were a complete waste of time.

An angry snort came from the doorway. Kyle’s older brother, Jack, leaned against the door jamb, his powerful arms crossed, his lips pursed into a thoroughly pissed-off expression. If Jack’s steel-gray eyes could shoot bolts of lightning, they would. Deke stood next to him, his green eyes blazing like kryptonite, practically lasering through Kyle’s chest.

He abandoned his half-formed origami and sat back in the chair. All he wanted was to be left alone. Clearly, that wasn’t happening. This was an ambush.

Without waiting for an invitation, his brothers parked themselves in chairs on the other side of Kyle’s desk. They eyed the stack of origami paper, knowing that when he pulled it out something in his life had gone to hell.

Jack didn’t say a word, just continued glaring, the same as when they’d been kids and Kyle had done something to annoy his older brother. It was an effect Jack had down to an art form. Kyle had arrested some of the meanest criminals on the FBI’s Most Wanted list, but right now he was a little kid again, waiting for his brother to lay into him.

“You’re playing Russian roulette.” Jack’s voice was calm. His narrowing eyes told a different story. “You keep spinning that chamber, hoping one day there’ll be a round in it. One day, there will be.”

He knew that. Today had almost been the day.

Deke was normally the smiling, happy-go-lucky member of the Gates clan. Not today. His lips were tight, his overall demeanor as menacing as Jack’s. “How can you keep doing this to Ma? She worries enough about all of us as it is.”

He rubbed his forehead, trying unsuccessfully to ease the growing ache inside his skull. Bringing up their mother was a low blow and about the only thing that could drag him back to reality. “There was no way I was about to wait for backup or approval from some pencil-pusher who hasn’t seen the streets in years, if ever, before going into that bank.”

“Knock it off. That’s not what this is about, and you know it.” Jack’s hard features softened. “We know what you went through when Diane died. We went through it with you. But that was twelve years ago. You gotta find a way to move on and let it go.”

Years ago, he had managed to let his wife go. But not the guilt. That would always be with him. Back then, he’d been wondering how many kids he’d have. Now he was thirty-seven, unmarried, and planning to stay that way.

“You can’t make up for what happened by constantly putting yourself in danger,” Jack continued. “It has to stop, and it has to stop now. If it doesn’t, I’ll recommend to Morrison that you get a complete psych eval.”

Kyle snorted in disgust, but the look on Jack’s face said he wasn’t kidding. “You’re not serious. Are you?”

“He is.” Deke leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. “And I’ll back him up.”

“Ah, hell.” He shoved a hand through his hair. Ironically, he had just met with a shrink. Just not for him.

Jack sat back, re-crossing his arms. “If that’s what it takes to keep you alive, we will do it. Better you’re pissed off at us than dead.”

Now Kyle’s head pounded as if there was a hockey game going on behind his eyes. He didn’t have time for this. Not now. Not ever.

“Think of Ma,” Deke said. “Think of her standing over your grave, crying her eyes out because her son had a death wish.”

Jack released the armrests and flexed his fingers. “You’ve taken more risks and been in more shootings than anyone in this office. Sometimes I think you really want to die.”

“Do you?” Deke asked.

Did he? Sometimes yes, sometimes no. Right now, all he could think about was Victoria. He trusted his brothers but still hadn’t told them everything that happened in Chicago. He respected Victoria’s privacy too much to tell them about her now. Though he’d been a part of it, it was her story to tell.

Someone cleared their throat. Their boss, SAIC Mike Morrison, stood in the doorway. “Gentlemen.” He looked at Jack then Deke. “Please give us the room.”

Without another word, Jack and Deke stood. Before turning to leave, they both shot him meaningful looks that spoke volumes and made his gut tighten. If he didn’t get his act together, they’d follow through with their threat.

Mike stepped aside to let them leave and closed the door. He tipped his head to the desk. “What’s that one gonna be?”

“A dragon.”

“I don’t know how you do that with fingers big enough to pound nails.” He pushed from the door and sat in a chair.

Kyle grunted as he made another fold in the paper. The look on Mike’s face worried him. It was that aggravating, paternal expression that said he was about to get his ass chewed. In a nice, fatherly way.

Deep lines were etched into the older man’s forehead. “You okay?”

“Fine.” Here it comes.