The color drained from his face and she knew she was right.
“It’s disinformation,” he stammered. “Disinformation—”
“You pussy,” she said. “I see right through you. I always have. Now get the fuck out of here. This is my op.”
“Dutch,” one of her men called out from behind her. “What’s going on?”
Dutch glanced at Rispel. “I’m sorry, Lisa. It’s chain of command. That’s all.” He looked at his men. “You heard Director Devereaux. Ms. Rispel reports to him, and that means ultimately you report to him. And he has asserted authority over this op.”
She caught the way Devereaux got the title director while Rispel was merely a Ms. She didn’t need to glance back. She could feel her men buying it.
Devereaux looked at her and smiled. It was a smile of triumph, and disdain, and dominion.
Rispel pulled the P229 out of her pocket and shot him in the heart. His hands flew to his chest and his face contorted in shock and agony. His mouth twitched as though he was trying to say something. Then he sank to his knees and collapsed to his side.
“What the fuck!” Dutch yelled. He dropped down alongside Devereaux, who seemed too busy dying to even notice his man’s attempt at succor.
Rispel turned to her people. “What you don’t know is that Mr. Devereaux has been compromised by the Russians. They have kompromat material on him and have been running him for years. This is a counterintelligence operation, and I couldn’t allow him to interfere with it.”
Dutch stood, and before Rispel could react she was staring down the barrel of a pistol.
“Bullshit,” he said. “I’m not buying it.”
From behind her, she heard Tony say, “Drop your weapon, Dutch.”
She turned. Tony was pointing his machine pistol at Dutch. She turned back. Dutch had swiveled and was pointing his own gun at Tony. Without a second’s hesitation, she raised the P229 and shot Dutch in the face.
And then bursts of suppressed gunfire erupted behind her.
chapter
eighty-three
DOX
Dox couldn’t see what was happening beyond the trees, but he could hear Rispel’s half of the conversation. It sounded like old Manus had been right—Rispel and Devereaux were definitely not singing off the same hymnal. She was dressing the man down but good, and told him she knew he was in the videos, and Hobbs, too, none of which surprised Dox a bit. And then a shot rang out, and though it was hard to believe and he couldn’t be sure, Dox thought Rispel must have done Devereaux. Which was fine by him. The more of them that killed each other, the easier it would be for Dox to mop up the rest.
There was another loud shot. And then, just like that, there were a lot more, all suppressed, some single, some automatic fire.
Rispel wasn’t saying anything else. And all Dox could do was listen helplessly to the surreally quiet shooting, and the occasional scream, and watch the empty clearing, and hope no one he cared about was getting hurt.
chapter
eighty-four
LIVIA
Livia crept in, moving silently behind and to the left of them, until she was about twenty feet away. She crouched behind the last tree thick enough to offer meaningful cover and concealment, and listened while Devereaux tried to assert authority over Rispel’s op. Rispel wasn’t having it, but the man Devereaux was with, Dutch, must have had his own authority, because he backed Devereaux’s play. Livia had just finished thinking, I don’t think you want to corner this woman when Rispel pulled a gun and shot Devereaux.
Livia almost went in, but then Dutch had his own gun out, and he and the guy named Tony were throwing down at each other. Livia saw it an instant before it happened—Rispel spun and shot Dutch, too. And Larison, who must have been waiting for his chance, lunged for the guy to his right, grabbed his pistol, and twisted. Almost simultaneously, Manus and Rain, farther forward, did the same with the men near them.