Onyx (K19 Security Solutions Book 10)

by Heather Slade

  4

  Onyx

  “Thanks for the extra five,” I said, opening the door after I saw Doc’s SUV pull through the duplex’s gate and he and his wife, Merrigan “Fatale” Shaw-Butler, get out twenty minutes later rather than fifteen.

  “How are you, Onyx?” Merrigan asked, kissing both of my cheeks.

  “Not sure I’m as well as your husband thinks I am.”

  She rested her hand on my arm. “This was my suggestion, not Doc’s.”

  “Please come in,” I said after Doc walked up behind her and we embraced.

  “Good to have you back in the fold,” he said when we took our seats at the dining room table after Merrigan was seated.

  She cleared her throat and folded her hands. “All I ask is that you let me finish before making your decision.”

  Should I tell her it was too late? My mind was made up within seconds of Doc using the word assignment.

  “K19 Security Solution’s profile has risen to where Doc and I believe the covert side of our business has been compromised to the point of ineffectiveness. Given that is where we’re needed most, I am proposing a new unit we’re referring to as Shadow Ops.”

  “K19 Shadow Ops?”

  “Within K19, yes. To anyone outside, with the exception of Money McTiernan, the unit doesn’t exist.”

  “Who are you tapping?”

  “First, you,” Merrigan said without cracking a smile.

  “And after me?”

  “Ranger Messick, Diesel Jacks, and Cowboy Cassidy.”

  “What’s Money’s role?”

  “Your sole contact within the agency.”

  “Four men, one with a broken wing, doesn’t exactly speak unit to me.”

  “We have a couple others in mind.”

  “Who?”

  Neither she nor Doc responded.

  “Did you or did you not say you wanted me to head this up?”

  He tried to hide it, but I caught a glimpse of Doc’s grin. “I did.”

  “Then, I want full transparency. If they’re going to be my crew, I want a say in their selection.”

  Doc didn’t bother to mask his smile this time around. “I told you he was ready,” he leaned over and said to his wife.

  “You didn’t, dear husband. I told you he was ready.”

  “Storm Fury and eventually Brand Ripa. We’ll be looking for your recommendation for others.”

  “Never heard of the second one.”

  “Yeah, you have,” said Doc. “Brand was—”

  “The art forger? Isn’t he in prison?”

  “Which is why I emphasized the word eventually. I’m working on rehabilitation.”

  I looked from Doc to Fatale. “Is he serious?”

  “We need someone with his expertise,” Doc muttered.

  I pushed my chair back and walked over to the window. “I knew this had to be a bad dream.”

  “Brand would serve as a consultant, if you will, until such time as we feel comfortable arranging for his parole.”

  I spun around. “Let me ask you this. How does AISE feel about his impending release from prison?” He’d only been responsible for the deaths of several of Italy’s equivalent of the CIA. It didn’t matter that it was inadvertently, except when it came to his trial. I wasn’t sure about everything he’d actually been charged with, but it couldn’t have been much if Doc was already talking about his parole.

  Doc started to respond, but Merrigan held up her hand. “I’ll answer that. First, AISE is unaware of the conditions of Brand’s incarceration. Second, in order for this new unit to be effective, no one outside of those mentioned previously will be aware of its existence.”

  “Outside of the current K19 team, you mean.”

  She shook her head. “Need to know only.”

  “You mean to tell me Razor, Gunner, and Eighty-eight won’t know about it?” The three men I asked about had founded K19 Security Solution along with Doc before Merrigan was in the picture.

  “They have been made aware. Their involvement will remain as needed and very much behind the scenes.”

  While I was outwardly protesting, I realized I’d already begun formulating a mental list of agents I would like to add to the team.

  “This topic of conversation began with me saying you were needed for an assignment.”

  “That isn’t where it began, Doc.”

  He leaned forward and rested his arms on the table. “No, it isn’t. It began when Sofia Descanso shot you.”

  “What are you asking me to do—specifically?”

  “I’m putting you on the sister’s detail. You’ll have backup from both Ranger and Diesel. More if you need it.”

  I rolled my neck. “You want me to get close to her.”

  Merrigan put her hand on my arm. “We all want to know what happened, Onyx. Who got to Sofia, and why were they able to turn her? Doc and I feel personally responsible for every agent, operative, or otherwise that we bring into K19. It was up to us to vet her. We failed, and we want to know where we went wrong, so we don’t do it again.”

  “You think that’s the way I see it too, right?”

  “Are you saying you don’t?”

  I shook my head. “Of course I do. How could I not? I was closer to Corazón—Sofia—than anyone.”

  Shortly before my meeting with Doc and Merrigan ended, his cell phone rang. I was sitting close enough to see the incoming call was from Director McTiernan.

  “Money, I’ve got Merrigan and Onyx here with me. Okay to put the call on speaker?”

  “Go ahead.”

  Doc set the phone on the table.

  “Have you read the recent update from Ranger and Diesel?” McTiernan asked.

  I raised a brow.

  “When I engaged them, I asked them to report their findings both to Money and us,” explained Doc before answering Money’s question. “I haven’t. When did it come in?”

  “A few minutes ago. That’s why I’m calling. They followed Hatchet to Manhattan.” Money hesitated and then added, “Where we’ve also confirmed Ms. Descanso is presently.”

  What the hell? “Manhattan? I thought she was headed to a lake in the Adirondacks.”

  “Evidently, she had a change of plans, Onyx,” said Money.

  “Do you have anyone else in the area you could engage?” Doc asked.

  “That’s the thing. I thought you wanted this new team of yours to stay on the down low.”

  “He’s right,” said Merrigan. “We need to send in more of our own.” She and Doc turned to me.

  “I’ll engage Wasp and Buster.”

  I’d flown F/A-18s with Jasper “Wasp” Theron. He’d always been a better pilot than me, not that I would’ve admitted it before now. Keaton “Buster” Franks was a former Marine Raider—the special forces arm of the USMC.

  “What’s their twenty?” Doc asked.

  “San Luis Obispo.” The town was a half hour south of where we were now. It also happened to be where the airfield was located.

  “Got anyone who can fly with Wasp?” I knew the question was as hard for Doc to ask as it was for me to answer.

  “I heard Swan might be close by, too.”

  Merrigan put her hand on my arm. “She’s good, Onyx.”

  “I know she is.”

  Like Wasp, Aubrey Lee was one of the best fighter pilots I’d witnessed fly. She ascended out of the RAF like a damned phoenix, yet her code name, Swan, was far more fitting. She had dark, almost black hair, and steel-blue eyes, but it was her long, graceful neck I’d spent hours daydreaming about sinking my teeth into that was the most exquisite of her features.

  I’d always considered her the most beautiful woman I ever laid eyes on—until I met the Descanso sisters.

  “Sounds like you’re set,” said Money, who I’d forgotten was on the line. “I trust you’ll engage Ranger and Diesel directly.”

  “Roger that,” I responded before Doc ended the call.

  “The Cirrus is fueled and
ready at the airfield.”

  I raised a brow at his offer of the plane’s use.

  “He has two now,” explained Merrigan.

  This time, I shook my head. Their price tag, a little over two mil, wasn’t as much of a deterrent for anyone who really wanted one as was the scarcity of the planes that made them hard to come by.

  Flight time, coast to coast, was a little over five hours. From the airfield in Teterboro, where we were headed, it would take us another fifteen minutes to reach our rendezvous point with Ranger and Diesel—and that was being generous. Our actual flight time in the Blade helicopter was closer to five.

  While Swan was with us, she didn’t copilot with Wasp. Wasp filled that role when another pilot/agent who was still with the CIA, Trap Flannery, met us in the airfield’s terminal and reported Money sent him in to serve as captain. I didn’t like McTiernan’s interference in a unit that was supposed to be mine to command, especially after he’d commented that, given our desire to keep the team on the down low, he didn’t want to send anyone else in from his side.

  But I’d known Trap a damn long time, and there was no sense in addressing this now, especially since this was, officially, an agency op. However, we would be evaluating who was responsible for mission planning when this one was complete.

  Once we landed and were almost to the heliport where we’d catch the ride on the Blade, Buster reported a message coming in from Ranger.

  “He’s asking that we go directly to the South Street Seaport. What’s there, anyway?”

  “Mainly touristy stuff,” I answered.

  “Think they’ll let us land this thing on the Intrepid?” asked Wasp.

  I would’ve laughed, but it was just the kind of thing the crazy asshole would do. The former aircraft carrier served as more of a museum now, and we’d be breaking all sorts of laws by landing on it. Thankfully, Wasp wasn’t the one flying the Blade; Trap was.

  “There’s a heliport due south. Less than half a mile,” said Flannery.

  Within the few short minutes it took us to arrive at our destination, my cell pinged with a message from Ranger.

  “He’s reporting that both Descanso and Hatchet have boarded the Circle Line at the Seaport. He and Diesel are getting on now.”

  How long until departure? I asked via text.

  Pulling away from the docks now.

  5

  Blanca

  While it meant driving an extra three hours, I’d arranged to fly into JFK rather than Albany or even Syracuse, which was only ninety minutes from the lake and the camp where I’d spent so many summers with my family.

  I hadn’t planned to remain in the city, but after spending a few short hours with the man my father believed would one day be my twin’s husband, I needed time to get him out of my head before I went to the place where I’d allow my sister to crawl into it.

  I saw a Broadway show, wandered around a few museums, took several long walks through Central Park, and today was on a cruise around the island of Manhattan. So far, nothing had managed to keep my thoughts from drifting to Montano. He was with me through it all. Not just in my head; he’d somehow managed to crawl right under my skin.

  “First time in New York?” asked the man who sat in the row of empty seats in front of me on the upper deck of the tour boat.

  I shook my head.

  “A native, then?”

  I thought about using my best fluent Italian to tell him I didn’t speak English, but decided not to put that much effort into it. “No,” I said instead, hoping he’d pick up on the fact that I wasn’t interested in conversation. I turned my head and looked out at the landmark the tour’s narrator was describing.

  “I grew up here but haven’t been back for twenty years. Things sure have changed.”

  The man did have a distinct accent, not that I knew much about the nuances between the boroughs—nor did I care enough—to guess where he was from.

  “Take that for example. Yankee Stadium.” He pointed to my right. “Five billion dollars to build that thing, and in my opinion, it isn’t any better than what was there before.”

  I didn’t point out to him that the narrator had just quoted a price closer to two billion.

  “Ever been?” he asked.

  “A long time ago.”

  “See? It was better, right?”

  I couldn’t believe this jackalope had actually managed to engage me in conversation. I feared now that I’d responded, he wouldn’t relent.

  “My name’s Hatch, by the way. Richard Hatch.”

  I had no intention of introducing myself, but that didn’t seem to matter, given Mr. Chatty was no longer paying the slightest attention to me. Instead, he appeared to be looking at something happening behind the boat. As curious as I was, I stayed seated, even when I saw him rush toward the aft stairwell and down the steps without so much as another glance in my direction. I shrugged, glad to be rid of him.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I’ll be taking a break for a few minutes. Kindly stay in your seats as we slow to make our way under the first of seventeen bridges we’ll navigate on today’s tour.”

  Until now, the narrator had seemed as unhurried and talkative as the man I’d been glad to see leave. Instead, he seemed equally rushed. Admittedly, I was curious about the abrupt departure of both men, but not enough to leave my seat to investigate. Besides, the bridge we were about to go under seemed close enough to hit my head if I stood.

  When the boat slowed to a near crawl, I realized how far off I’d been about how close it was. Still, it was fascinating to look up at the beams of steel and think about the number of cars that had passed over it since it was built so many years ago. It was hard to fathom.

  Once safely beyond it, I turned around to take a photo from the opposite side when something attracted my attention. I zoomed in on my phone’s camera and snapped a shot of the man standing on the bridge, looking at the back of the boat. The image was still too small for me to see clearly, but at first glance, the man resembled Mr. Chatty.

  I was about to turn toward the front when someone else, this time coming up the stairs instead of rushing down, caught my eye.

  “What is Montano doing here?” I said out loud even though no one knew him or was close enough to hear me.

  Our eyes met, and what stunned me more than anything was that he didn’t appear the least bit surprised to see me. Not only that, he was followed by a man who was the spitting image of my first love—Jimmy Messick.

  6

  Onyx

  “Hi, I’m Ranger…err…Owen Messick.”

  I had to look away when Blanca shook his outstretched hand, her cheeks flushed, and I heard her say, “I could’ve guessed. You look so much like your brother.”

  Since I was on her detail for the foreseeable future, I had to figure out a way to get things straight in my head. The woman standing close enough for me to touch was not the woman I’d once believed I was in love with. That woman was dead, and even if she weren’t, she was the devil incarnate. Therefore, the voice inside my head emphasized, there was no sane reason for me to feel possessive of her. Two different minds, bodies, souls, and hearts. Two different people.

  I got that. I mean, I didn’t think of Blanca as Sofia. I never saw her that way, even mere moments after we met. So why was my inner caveman ready to beat my chest and tell Ranger to keep his hands off her? How could I be so clear and so muddled at the same time?

  When I raised my head, both Blanca and Ranger were studying me.

  “Sorry, what?”

  “I asked why you’re here.”

  “Ranger—Owen—and I were here on business and, when it wrapped early, decided to spend the afternoon as tourists.”

  “You didn’t seem surprised to see me.”

  “No? I was. I thought you said you were going to the lake.”

  “I still am, but I wanted to spend a few days in the city first.”

  “Coincidentally, that’s what we’re doing.”

 
Ranger slugged my arm. “I’m trying to talk this guy into going to the lake instead.”

  “Oh, uh…wow. Are you?”

  I couldn’t tell by the look on her face whether she wanted me to or not, but it didn’t matter. Wherever she went, I’d follow.

  “Gotta admit, being in the mountains is far more my speed than this big city.”

  “When are you leaving?” Ranger asked Blanca. “Maybe we could carpool.”

  She thought about the question for a minute. “I’ll have to rent a car. Won’t you need one too while you’re there?”

  “We keep a couple vehicles at the camp.”

  “Then, sure, I guess.”

  “When did you say you were leaving?” She hadn’t, but I’d much prefer to get her out of the city as soon as possible, even with Wasp and Trap on Hatchet’s tail.

  “I haven’t decided. Maybe tomorrow.”

  “Perfect. Where are you staying?” I asked even though I already knew.

  “A small hotel in Flatiron. You?”

  “Same area. At a place called the Mark.”

  “It’s across the street from my hotel.”

  “Another coincidence. What do you say we meet up for dinner later?”

  “We’re going to need everyone to take a seat as we go under the next bridge,” someone announced over the loudspeaker.

  “I’m here,” said Blanca, pointing to a chair. I sat beside her and was annoyed as hell when Ranger went around and took the seat next to her on the opposite side.

  She inhaled and clasped her shaking hands as we rode under the bridge.

  “I bet you could touch it if you stood up,” Ranger said to me. At my height, I probably could’ve.

  Blanca laughed. “I thought the same thing. About me, I mean.”

  When she released her hands and rubbed them on her pant legs, I reached my arm across the back of her chair, barely touching her shoulder with my fingertips. I leaned closer. “Something’s bothering you.”