Nico (The Mavericks Book 8)

take him out in their own time.”
“Whether he screwed up or not, they’ll take him out,” Keane said. “Think about the other two.”
“Right,” Nico said. He returned to the bed where Charlotte lay. Her eyes were closed, and her chest rose and fell in a gentle movement. He glanced over at Keane and gave her a gentle nudge to show him that she was out.
Immediately Keane lowered his voice. “Good. That’s what she needs.” He went into the washroom and scrubbed down as much as he could. When he came back out, he said, “We need food, information, and to figure out how to get her home safe again.”
“Good luck with that,” their prisoner said in a snide voice.
“Oh, look at that. He talks,” Keane said.
Their prisoner glared at them, and Nico shrugged. “I don’t give a shit if they take you out or not. But any further attempts to take her out will not make us happy.”
“Too late,” their prisoner muttered.
“I don’t understand why they even care about Charlotte,” Keane said to Nico. “She’s an activist, one of a thousand all around the world.”
“No, she’s more than that.” But then the kidnapper shut his mouth tight and pinched his lips together, then glared at the two men as if sorry he had even opened his mouth.
“She’s just an author who didn’t even want to come to Australia. Or did you guys orchestrate that?”
The prisoner shrugged as if to say he had no clue.
That was likely the truth. Why would anybody let a lowlife like this know any of the details? “Oh, yeah. You weren’t even part of the planning,” Nico said. “You’re just hired muscle. A nobody.”
The prisoner continued to glare at him but didn’t rise to the bait.
“Do we know anything more about the helicopter?” Nico asked Keane.
Keane sat down at the table with his laptop open. “I’m looking into it right now,” he said. “I’ve already asked for some assistance and am tracking it down.”
“I don’t know about call numbers, but it should have a flight path of where it’s going and where it came from.”
“Doesn’t mean they follow it though,” Keane muttered.
Nico knew that was the truth. Even commercial planes were supposed to follow flight paths but that didn’t mean they did. But, if they didn’t show up on time, then inquiries were sent, and investigations were opened for missing flights. So it was to everybody’s benefit to file a flight plan. Unless you didn’t want anybody to know where and when you were going somewhere. In which case, better to say you didn’t know. Nico was sure there were ways around doing that too.
As he sat here, studying the sleeping woman, he wondered just how far these guys would go. “I still don’t understand. Why kill her? What does her death do as an activist? It turns her into a martyr, which helps her cause and not the kidnappers’ cause.”
“Not that these guys necessarily have the brains to think about that,” Keane said. “I think you’re giving them too much smarts.”
Nico chuckled at that. “We never did get food.”
“Order something then,” Keane said, but his voice was disinterested.
Nico, on the other hand, could really use some food. He quickly put in an order through his Mavericks chat window, loving the system as it stood right now. He wasn’t exactly sure who oversaw all the minions running around in the background at all these worldwide spots and whether the chat window guys were like him or if they seriously had a team admin and an espionage analyst. He liked the idea of having a whole government branch, sitting there, waiting for them to give them something to do. And then he wondered if there were more teams like his. We need that. To better operate on a global level.
Nico sat here wondering about that, then realized that, even if he were to ask the Mavericks, chances were nobody would say anything.
Charlotte rolled over just then. She sat up and looked at him groggily and then collapsed again.
He got up, walked over, and gently patted her shoulder, stroking her arm before picking up her hand and lacing her fingers with his. “Take it easy,” he whispered, hating the deeply confused and fearful gaze that stared back at him from almost an owl-like face. He smiled, seeing that her makeup hadn’t come off in the shower, and she’d been just too damn tired to even notice.
She blinked at him several more times and then whispered, “Is it safe?”
“You’re still safe,” he whispered. “We are still in the hotel. Four of us, including our prisoner.”
At the word prisoner, her gaze widened. She rolled over to look at the man who had kidnapped her, still sitting at the table all tied up. She sank back down, closing her eyes and letting out a light groan. “I was hoping this was all a bad dream.”
“Well, a bad dream it still could be,” he said quietly, with a note of humor. “On the bright side, you were rescued and are now freshly showered and had a short nap and are in a hotel room with two guys to look after you.”
The corners of her lips kicked up. “Good points,” she said with a smile, speaking softly. This time her gaze was more aware and intent as she studied him. “Did you guys find out anything more?”
“Not too much, no,” he whispered. “The prisoner’s not talking, and we’re still waiting on further information.”
“Okay,” she said. “How about flights back home? Did you get those booked?”
“Not sure we want to let the world know that you are flying back yet,” he said, speaking softly. “At the moment you’ve missed your scheduled return flight. Did you consider that?”
She frowned. “No, I didn’t even think of it.”
“Which is a good thing, in a way,” he said, whispering. “And we don’t want to change that status quo, in case other people are involved in this. We need to flush them out. Otherwise you’ll be looking over your