Maybe she analyzed her problems too closely.
In any case, she walked forward with a genuine smile when the Swede, Dahl, strode toward them.
“Torsten.” She stretched out a hand, then felt herself grabbed and given a friendly hug.
“Hayden!” Dahl cried warmly. “It is so good to see you again. The wrong circumstances, I’m sure, but good nevertheless.”
Hayden let herself be held just for a moment, basking in the security offered by the big, kind Swedish Special Forces officer. The sanctuary she sought was the sanctuary her father had once given her. That ultimate feeling of safety and the deep knowledge that if she ever started to hurt, she could always find a refuge.
And now, she knew why she couldn’t stay with Ben Blake. No matter how hard he tried, he could never offer her that.
Hayden pulled away, smiling. “To hell with the bullshit circumstance. It’s great to see you.” She waved Kinimaka aside. “Over here is Jonathan Gates, the US Secretary of Defense.”
Whilst the pair shook hands, Hayden assessed their surroundings. She had men positioned at every egress point and scattered around the room. Despite Cayman’s assurances and his insistence that even the Secretary of Defense and his plethora of secret service agents was welcome to accompany them to this meeting, her shit-radar remained on full alert.
“We should get going soon,” she said. “The meeting’s in forty-five minutes. We don’t wanna give this shitheel any excuse.”
“Agreed.” Dahl nodded. “I have met said shitheel, and must say I can’t disagree with your statement.”
Dahl’s rhetoric was already jarring her. She suddenly understood why Drake teased him endlessly. It wasn’t through spite; it was simply a way of coping. And, Dahl, in his way, understood that.
“And meet Mano Kinimaka, my partner.” Hayden stepped aside as the big Hawaiian now came forward, offering a gruff hello.
And then her heart leapt as a familiar face threaded through the crowd. Daniel Belmonte, the master thief, her ex-lover, the Englishman every woman wanted to hate, but always ended up wanting more than they bargained for.
Alongside him walked a thin blond girl, hair curled into tight ringlets. Big blue eyes rounded off the archetypal likeness of the pretty blonde, but Hayden knew that if this woman accompanied Belmonte to a live job, being pretty would be the least of her attributes.
“Daniel,” she said with forced neutrality. “Thanks for coming.”
“How could I resist?” His eyes sparkled, then went blank. “But no, seriously. I couldn’t resist. I was ordered to come here.”
“Huh?” Hayden frowned. “But who—”
“Gates. Jonathan Gates.” The Secretary of Defense came alongside her. “Pleased you accepted my invitation.”
“Well when I say ordered,” Belmonte turned his voice down to a whisper. “You know I’ve always used the term loosely, don’t you?”
Hayden took a deep breath. This was going to be a long day.
Gates turned and led them outside to a waiting limo. The hot L.A. air struck them as soon as they were out of the building and a dusty wind swept along the road. Hayden took a second to introduce herself to Belmonte’s friend, not wanting to exclude anyone, and learned her name was Emma, and that she was Belmonte’s charge and responsibility, not to mention his apprentice.
In what? Hayden wondered. Was Belmonte blasé enough to want a thief’s life for such a young girl?
When the limo moved away from the curb, Dahl began talking.
“Excuse my manners. I know introductions haven’t yet been completed, but I have information that I must impart.” He nodded at the secretary. “It has been a long flight. I was hoping Drake would be here, but I guess he felt he should be in London, yes?”
Hayden nodded. “Right. He’s following up the Wells lead.”
“Hmm. Well, good luck to him. But now…as regards the eight pieces of Odin. Do you remember them?”
“Eight?” Belmonte immediately interrupted. “I think you mean nine, don’t you?”
“No. I mean eight. The ninth piece, the Shield, was lost in Eyjafjallajokull.”
“That’s easy for you to say.”
Dahl blinked. “I once said that to Drake. It wasn’t funny then, either. Now please shut the fuck up and let me talk.” Dahl moved in his seat, the leather creaking loudly. “The remaining eight pieces of Odin were transported to the Swedish Museum of National Antiquities in Stockholm to be assessed and carefully guarded before a decision could be made as to their final destination. All standard procedure.”
“I’m aware of all that.” Gates flicked his gaze between the Swede and the road ahead. The road that led to Russell Cayman. Hayden wondered what percentage of Gates’ brilliant mind was focused on the job. He’d barely begun to grieve for his murdered wife.
“Good.” Dahl looked around the limo. “Then is anyone aware that all eight pieces were removed by the American government a few days ago and transported to a military base in Stuttgart, Germany?”
Gates snapped his head around. Hayden felt her mouth go dry. “What?”
“How on earth could the American government authorize the removal of Norse artifacts from Scandinavian soil?” Belmonte wondered.
“Because someone…” Dahl’s voice dropped even though he was among friends in the limo. “A very powerful someone in the Swedish government allowed them to. The same someone — I’m guessing — who gave them control of my exploration.”
Gates shook his head. “I’ve heard nothing of this. If the order came from Cayman, then I don’t think it came directly from the US government.”
The big Swede stared. “You’ve lost me there, sir. Isn’t Cayman DIA? A man from the special weapons division? Does he not work for a US agency?”
Gates pursed his lips. “We’re about to find out, Dahl. My philosophy for getting by on the Hill has always been a simple one—don’t trust the bastards.”
Dahl was momentarily silent. “The good news is that I managed to place one of my trusted men onto the exploration team before I left Iceland. He is nothing more than an ancient language specialist, but…” Dahl paused, purposely waiting so he could gauge who was the brightest in the car.
The limo slipped off the 405 onto the I10 and headed toward Santa Monica. Gates and Hayden were the first to speak up. “The whorls? They’re the key?” Hayden said. “So the key to everything is deciphering the language that was written by the ancients? By the gods?”
“Isn’t it always?” Dahl said with a smile.
Gates frowned. “So you’re staking everything on a guess — that the gods recorded their intentions — from the map that shows the location of tomb three to the method of starting and stopping the doomsday device? Forgive me, Dahl, but that’s one big-ass wager.”
Hayden felt a pang in her heart when she immediately hit on what Kennedy Moore would have said. “Pussies don’t last long in Vegas, baby.”
Even Kinimaka cringed. Hayden quickly addressed her boss. “What I mean is — the wager’s informed enough to warrant the pay-off, sir.” She turned to Dahl with an earnest appeal in her eyes. “Isn’t it?”
“Exactly.” Dahl managed to remain deadpan. “Well said.”
“Your man.” Gates was clearly thinking hard. “He could translate all this stuff and give us the heads up before Cayman’s guys?”
“He is capable of that, sir.”
“Excellent.” Gates nodded. “Then we may have an ace in the hole.”
“We may have more than one.” Dahl smiled. “I bring more than one gift. I am Swedish, after all. This”—he pulled out a cell phone and clicked a few buttons—“is a photograph of the map I found in the tomb of the gods.” He glanced at Hayden. “Is Ben still helping you?”