Page 5 of Stripped

Alex set his empty glass down on a side table and stood. Walking over to the fireplace, he leaned against the mantle. "I want you to go to Glasgow tomorrow and meet up with the girl. Get involved with her."

Wraith looked at him like he was insane. "Get involved with her? I just told you she's a child."

"We'll think of a cover. She'll be vulnerable. She'll need someone to guide her. Better us than one of Angus' thugs," he said, challenging Wraith to disagree. "It will give you an inside track to McNeil's business dealings. You'll be able to find out who might have wanted him dead. We need to find out who killed him."

"I'm a sniper, not a spy," Wraith said.

Alex's eyes hardened into steel gray slits as his voice sliced through the room in a growl. "You're whatever I tell you to be."

Wraith's jaw clenched, the price of his mistake now obvious and being paid out in the form of a punishment. He was reminded instantly, this man was only a friend as long as he said so and not someone to be crossed. When he first woke up after spending a month in a medically induced coma from the bomb blast, McKay was the first person he saw, and he thought he was looking at the devil himself. "Yes, sir," he said through gritted teeth. The colonel had told him then if he didn't agree to join The Watch, they would kill him. And they would; he knew it. McKay had him by the balls. It was the price he paid for dialing the number.

"Good. I'm glad we see eye to eye." His expression eased. "Gabriel, take Wraith to the infirmary, so Dr. Forbes can give him a once over. Then make sure he is settled in Glasgow. He can use the same flat he stayed in before."

"Yes, Colonel," the blond-haired agent said.

"And, Wraith," he said pointedly, "I was wrong. By nature, you're not an assassin nor are you a spy. It's not that you can't carry out those skills, but it's not who you are. You're a protector. You'll do just fine with the girl."

The colonel's words stung his heart. Ailsa had called him her protectoronce. She had it engraved on the back of the Victoria Cross medal he had been awarded posthumously for his part in Al-Saad's death and she’d left it at the foot of his makeshift grave. If Wraith had been looking for any kind of atonement or redemption over the past year, tonight reminded him there would be no forgiveness for him. Like Dante, he had passed through the gate of Hell when he sold his soul to the devil and the inscription at the end was clear,

'Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.'