by Isabel Wroth
She never went to bars, didn't stay out late, and didn't travel outside a twenty-mile radius more than once a month.
He couldn't find any overlap between her travel patterns and the areas of Dallas known to be Leviathans territory.
In fact, Dillon's house was on the opposite side of the city. The closest known Leviathans hang out was over thirty miles away.
Everything about her background was meticulously manufactured, and had he not been the techno-God he was that noticed the infinitesimally incongruent details, it would have stood up to any inquiry.
Even after hours of searching, he hadn't found any evidence to prove she was a government agent. Still, a familiar pattern stood out to identify an expertly crafted back story that reeked of government fabrication.
The question was, did the false background mean she was still an active agent?
Or did it mean she'd been erased from the system because she was being protected?
He was in the middle of deciding whether or not the consequences of unraveling the tangled web of deceit was worth risking a visit from men in black suits and a possible return to prison, when the sensor light to his left went off.
He looked up to see Top shove open the basement door, hurrying down the stairs with his phone in hand and his beard jutting straight out from his jaw.
That look... Nasa's stomach dropped to his toes in a sickening rush as his mind supplied him with a rapid-fire slide-show of Dillon's body, dead and mutilated, because he’d failed to keep her here.
Nasa cut the music, expecting to hear Top tell him she was dead, but the sound of rabid dog barking filled the silence.
The hair on the back of his neck stood up to hear the fury of what had to be Dillon's dog going berserk, and the only reason the dog would be that pissed is if something happened to Dillon.
Nasa leapt to his feet to meet Top in the middle of the room, his heart thundering in his chest.
“What the fuck is going on? Is Dillon—”
“She's alive and unhurt. The commandos are with her, but things went FUBAR,” Top interrupted, both of them tense and staring at the phone between them, listening to Dillon's wild screams, Elka's vicious snarls, and most of Veracruz's team blistering the air with curses.
“Don't shoot the dog! Mother... mother fucker!” one of the team was shouting.
“RUSSIAN! RUSSIAN!” someone else bellowed.
“Ah, FUCK! Don't let her get at his throat!”
“RUSSIAN... FUCKING RUSSIAN!”
“What the fuck is he talking about? Get the hose or something; she's gonna rip his damn arm off!”
Remembering the few words in Russian Dillon used to command her dog, Nasa grabbed the phone out of Top's hand, wracking his brain for the damn word he'd heard in those training videos he'd been watching.
He didn't know if Elka would even respond to his voice, but he tried anyway.
“Shit! Fuck... ah...Vypusk! Elka! Vypusk!”
The sound of Elka's intense snarls leveled off to a low rattling growl, and the continuous stream of curses turned into a low, pained groan.
“Aw, hell. That's gonna leave a mark.”
“Shit, Tobias, you are one lucky bastard.”
Nasa demanded to know what was happening, but the phone must have been dropped in the rush to get Tobias some medical attention. It took what felt like forever for someone to pick up the damn thing and start talking.
“It's Veracruz,” the commando team leader grunted.
“What in the holy hell is going on?” Top snapped, glaring at the phone with his jaw clenched so tight his beard quivered.
“I have no fucking clue.” Veracruz heaved a sigh of unsteady relief. “We got here just in time to see two Leviathans coming around the side of Dillon's house.
"She was armed and didn't hesitate to fire on the one in front of her, sending the dog after the other one. Tore his fuckin throat out.
“Tobias went in to talk Dillon down, and it was going fine until she got a look at him. She went white as a sheet, lost her shit, and started screaming bloody murder.
"Tobias hesitated, the dog took him down, and snapped his arm like a damn twig.
“I think the only reason she didn't kill him like she killed the other fucker was because Dillon broke in half and pretty much crawled on her hands and knees back into the house.”
Picturing Dillon terrified to the point of hysteria, the echoes of her screams ringing in his ears, it shattered something inside him.
Instead of suspicious disbelief, Nasa felt the undeniable surge of protectiveness and the need to get to Dillon before anything else could happen to her.
“I've only ever seen a woman act like this twice, and both of them were traumatized victims we rescued from human trafficking rings who saw the men who abused them lying dead on the floor on the way out.
"Only Dillon keeps screaming saying she doesn’t know anything and is begging us not to take her back.
“She's so out of it I don't think she knows where she is. Or when she is. She made it into the living room and is rocking in the corner like a mental patient.
"The dog is in there now guarding her, and the only way we can secure Dillon is if we shoot the bitch and I really don't see that diffusing the situation any.”
“Do not shoot the dog.”
“Man, I don't want to, Nasa.” Veracruz punched out a sigh of frustration. “Duke is taking Tobias to the hospital right now. I've pulled everyone back, and we've set up a perimeter around the house, but if for some reason we have to mobilize and the dog gets in the way of us protecting Dillon, I might not have a choice.”
Nasa looked to Top and got a tight nod of approval from the older man. “I'm on my way. I'll be there as fast as I can.”
*****
It took him just under four hours to get to the town of New Hope and pull down the driveway of Dillon's little homestead.A foot past the fence, flood lights came on to banish every shadow around the entire one-story brick farmhouse.
Not sure what all he'd need, Nasa had driven like a bat outta hell the whole way, Raid and Damon riding silently alongside him, both armed to the teeth and prepared for battle.
They had tranqs too, just in case they needed to neutralize Elka without hurting her, but Nasa worried being shot with another dose of tranquilizer so soon after whatever Ghost had done to her would have nasty side effects.
The front yard was crowded with bikes and trucks. Tobias and his partner Duke sat together on the front steps, Duke looking as serious as Nasa had ever seen him.
Tobias had a brand new 3-D printed cast on his arm, the tanned skin of his face gray as he stared sightlessly at the pavement in front of him, his expression completely blank.
Kris came around from either side of the house, carrying his favorite assault rifle, which meant Matt was somewhere on the roof looking at him through a scope.
As he unfolded himself from the truck, Nasa didn't hear any barking or growling coming from the open door of the house. In fact, everything seemed eerily quiet.
The whole drive up here, Nasa imagined all the things that could have happened to Dillon to make her have the breakdown Veracruz described, and from the few clues he had, none of the puzzles Nasa put together were pretty.
Scenario after scenario came and went, each one worse than the last, to the point where he was so keyed up, he'd assumed the truth couldn't possibly be worse.
He thought that right up until he walked into the house and found Dillon huddled in the corner, trying to make herself as small a target as possible.
Little noises of pain and distress passed her dry, cracked lips with every breath, her eyes rolling white with terror so intense it actually had a scent.
Looking at her, Nasa knew it wasn't an act. She wasn't a government spy, and she sure as fuck wasn't Ghost's operative. She was a victim caught in the web of whatever game Ghost was playing.
As soon as she caught sight of him, Elka got up from where she'd been trying to use the same technique he'd
seen at the compound, pressing her full weight against Dillon to try and bring her back to reality, and curled her lips back over her teeth in a warning snarl.
“Jesus Christ,” Raid rasped from behind him, gripping Nasa's shoulder to let him know Raid was still with him. “Whatever you're gonna do, I've got a bead on the hellhound.”
Nasa found it nearly impossible to speak, but after a few false starts, he managed and gave a short nod to Raid.
“The tranq gun, not a bullet.”
“You sure? The tranq's might not take her down in time—”
“I'm sure,” he hissed, flinching when Elka ripped off a series of vicious barks.
He'd thought about how to get the dog to back off, and the only thing he could come up with might cost him his hand. Considering the circumstances, it was a small price to pay.
Bracing himself for the pain, he tore his gaze away from Dillon and focused on Elka.
He stuck his hand out, and firmly said, “Shake.”
Elka blinked, rocking her weight back on her hind legs with an expression of canine uncertainty, her lips still curled back over her teeth as she struggled to decide how to react.
Dillon told Ever the dog was trained to know friend from foe, and the cue was to shake. Nasa figured if Lyon could face down this monster without pissing himself and shake her huge paw, Nasa could nut up and try it before resorting to shooting her full of sedatives.
“Shake, Elka,” he repeated in a voice that had made many a woman drop to her knees in submission, and after a few more moments of indecision, the huge beast slowly lowered her ass to the ground and hesitantly lifted her paw.
A fine tremor went through him, but he bent—putting his throat within chomping distance—and took the offered paw to give it a firm squeeze.
“Good girl. You're such a good girl.” He kept his voice low and soft, cautiously blowing out a breath of relief to see Elka's slick coat quiver and lose some of its tension. “We're going to help Dillon, okay? You and me.”
Elka seemed to understand, because she gave a whine and went back to pushing herself against Dillon's side, but Dillon was lost in her head.
Twitching and rocking, hugging her knees to her chest, trembling so hard it was a wonder she hadn't pissed herself in fear.
Her ashen cheeks were wet with tears, snot glistened on her upper lip, and the froth at the corners of her trembling mouth was tinged pink.
Nasa had no idea if she'd been hurt, or if she'd bit the inside of her cheek, but the sight of her this way utterly destroyed him.
He went to his knees in front of her, his heart barely able to take the way she flinched when he curled his hands around her ankles, jerking like he'd electrocuted her.
“Dillon, it's alright now. You're safe, you're safe. No one is going to hurt you.”
Nasa honestly didn't know what he said as he knelt there, rubbing his hands up and down her calves, just talking to her to try and get through.
The way she was sucking in air like there wasn't enough in the entire house should have knocked her out, but the adrenaline clearly pumping through her kept her alert, and just like Veracruz said, Dillon didn't seem to know when she was.
Huge tears spilled down her cheeks when she finally focused on his face, her words slurred and stilted as she struggled to string a coherent sentence together.
“I can't go back, I can't go back. Please don't... don't-don't let them take me again, please don't let them hur-hurt me anymore.”
The paranoid bastard inside him hissed that this was some kind of trick. Making herself out to be the damsel in distress, rousing his caveman instincts to rescue and protect her.
But looking into her too wide eyes, hearing her beg him to keep whoever the fuck they were from hurting her, left him no choice.
“I'm here. I'm right here. I'll keep you safe.”
Dillon looked like she desperately wanted to believe him, but whatever had happened to her, whoever hurt her, left her so broken and wounded, made her doubt his ability to keep his word.
Nasa pushed his hands higher up her legs, over her arms to carefully take hold of her wrists.
Nasa pushed his hands higher up her legs, over her arms to carefully take hold of her wrists.
She was stiff and resistant, but Nasa was patient, gently pulling until he could flatten both her shaking hands to his chest, right over his heart.
“I promise, Dillon, no one is going to take you away. No one will hurt you. I won't let them. You're coming with me, and you're going to be alright.”
She nodded like a bobblehead, choking on a sob when he pulled her to her feet and into his embrace.
He shushed her gently, urging her to wrap her arms around his neck, taking a minute to let her get used to the feel of his body against hers before he scooped her up and carried her out.
CHAPTER SIX
Veracruz led their convoy of bikes and trucks around the outskirts of the city to what looked like an abandoned fire station. The rickety door to the garage bay rolled up without a sound, and when Damon pulled in, Nasa realized the outside was one hell of a facade.
Inside, he saw reinforced steel shutters over every window; the entire garage was painted white, and the overhead lights were bright enough, there was no place for an enemy combatant to hide.
Directly ahead of them, where the gear lockers would have been, was an office space completely enclosed in glass. A war room with maps, whiteboards, and huge flatscreens mounted on the far wall.
Above seemed to be the living quarters, and that's where Veracruz silently led Nasa. They'd only been driving for a half an hour, but barely five minutes into the trip, Dillon passed out.
For a split-second, Nasa thought she'd had a heart attack from the adrenaline overload, because she went from clinging to him to flopping back in his arms like a broken doll. Completely dead weight.
Up the stairs they went, Elka's nails clicking on the old hardwood floors, down a hallway with door after open door of bedrooms and bathrooms until Veracruz waved him into a suite that had no windows and no other entry or exit aside from the one they walked through.
Only one of the brick walls had been left raw and natural, the rest were painted white. The nightstands on either side of the bed had long pendant lights; the soft glow and clean linens lent warmth to the room instead of making it seem like a cell.
Without a word, Veracruz pulled the blankets down and tossed the excess pillows on the rattan bench at the foot of the bed, getting out of the way so Nasa could lay Dillon down.
He pulled off her shoes and shorts before tucking her in, unable to help the brief smile when Elka hopped up and very pointedly lay down beside Dillon, putting her enormous body between them.
“Good girl,” he told the dog, getting a bitchy glare in return. With just that one look, Elka made it clear she was still deliberating as to whether Nasa was trustworthy or not.
Nasa stepped out, glad when Veracruz kept his voice down. “This room is completely wired with cameras. We can keep an eye on them from downstairs.”
He didn't want to leave Dillon and risk her waking up in a strange place alone, but he needed to know what the fuck happened to make her fall apart the way she had.
The tension in the war room was thick enough to taste. Nasa glanced at Raid and Damon, where they leaned against the far wall, and followed their intense stares to see Tobias chugging from a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue like it was water.
“Is anyone going to explain what the fuck we just put our dicks into?” Duke finally asked, looking at Nasa like he had the answers.
Nasa started to say he had no idea, but Tobias slammed the bottle down on the table in front of him with a thunk.
“It's my fault. Shouldn't have gotten that close. She looks different now.”
“You know Dillon?” Veracruz asked, tossing Nasa a confused frown, but Nasa was as clueless as the rest of them. Not a state he enjoyed.
Tobias gave a mirthless laugh, pressing the heel of his uninjured hand
to his forehead.
“Yeah, I fuckin' know'er.” Tobais raised haunted eyes to the ceiling, and Nasa was certain whatever Tobias was about to say would change everything. “I interrogated her back when I worked with the HIG.”
Raid and Damon looked to him for an explanation, but even as he answered their silent question, Nasa couldn't take his eyes off Tobias.
“The FBI, Department of Defense, and CIA came together after 9/11 and formed the High-Value Interrogation Group. Inter-agency cooperation to interrogate terrorists wherever they may be.”
“Seriously, bro?” Duke guffawed, looking at his partner as though he were seeing Tobias, the real Tobias, for the first time.
Nasa felt like he'd just been shoved into an ice bath, his breath stolen from him in a painful rush. All those scenarios he’d imagined to explain Dillon’s scars… being interrogated by his own government hadn’t been one of them.
“My team and I were stationed overseas. I was FBI, had a few DOD guys with me, and we were working in Iraq to get intelligence out of the insurgents captured during whatever battle they engaged in that day.
"Wasn't there for more than three months before we got caught in an ambush. My team died; I didn't, so I got sent home.”
Tobias dully stared into the bottom of the bottle as though his past played out on the surface of the booze like a bad movie.
“I got placed with a three-man crew after a week of being stateside, and we were tasked with questioning a woman suspected of using her position as a translator for the local PD to coordinate and move women and kids across state lines for some trafficker I'd never heard of.
“That was all they told me. That Dillon worked with vulnerable victims when she came in to translate for the local PD.
"That she had contacts to organized crime because of those victims, and it was our job to extract information out of her and get all the details we could about the trafficking operation.
“I didn't like anything about the assignment. Nothing made sense, but I got dicked around by the two senior agents for being the new guy who didn't understand the way things worked in their neck of the woods.
