by Desiree Holt
“And just how am I supposed to do this? Exactly?”
“That picture I showed you of the guy who could be your doppelganger?”
Max nodded.
“He’s suddenly become a key player.”
“Suddenly?” Max frowned. “You’d better explain that.”
“Okay. DHS has been working on this for two years, ever since they got the first hint of trouble. Once we knew all the names involved, we dug around looking for anything that gave us some leverage. We got one lucky break. We got information on Bernardo Ferron, arms and munitions billionaire, of some things he’s done that could send him to prison for a long time. Illegal arms sales. Hiding money in offshore accounts. Funding revolutions in small countries to provide more markets for his merchandise.”
Max made a rude noise. “Nice guy.”
“Tell me about it.” A muscle ticked in his jaw, the only sign of the stress he was under. “We were only able to learn the date this thing explodes a couple of days ago. And think about it, Max. We can’t even alert the military without sending signals to everyone and his brother. Not to mention the fact, where would we send them? There are so many logical targets I’m not even sure we have enough military to cover them all.”
“Fuck.” It was all Max could think of to say. He was well aware of the effect multiple terrorists strikes would have in this country
“Anyway,” Si continued, “we don’t have too many options. We need confirmation of the date and a blueprint of the strikes. We ‘convinced’ Bernardo to have a heart attack and to tell the others his brother, Max, will be taking his place.” He paused. “The man you’re a dead ringer for. And who, by the way, as you’re now aware, coincidentally happens to have the same first name you do.”
Max snorted. “I hope you aren’t using the word ‘dead’ literally.”
One corner of Si’s mouth turned up in a half grin. “Only figuratively, I promise you.”
“Do the others in this disgusting group know they’re getting a substitute? Are they even willing to do this?”
“Jed Whitlow, the person who put this group together, made sure everyone knew this was their best and only course of action. Bernardo, at our urging, was very convincing.”
“I won’t even ask what you mean by urging. But let me ask you this. What makes you think Bernardo won’t spill the beans? Or get away from his hospital room?”
Si’s smile was positively evil. “Because we have four former SEALs guarding him day and night. Jed Whitlow, who flew up to see him, thinks they are private security Ferron has hired. When he came to check it out we made sure everyone, including Ferron, put on a good performance.”
“And what does he get out of it.”
“He thinks he’s getting a free pass on prison and will have the opportunity to live out his life on some island in luxury.”
“He thinks? And what’s really going to happen.”
“That’s above my pay grade.” He walked over to Max. “Anyway, as soon as I saw the picture and heard the name, I knew we had to get you into this. You’ve got all the necessary skills. If you say yes, you’ve got five days to learn everything you need to know to become Max Ferron.”
“What happens then?”
“Their next very private, very secret meeting I told you about? It’s taking place at a lodge hidden away from the world. We believe it’s the final get-together before July 4th. We want you to go in there as Max Ferren and get every bit of information available to bring them down.”
Max gave a hard laugh. “You don’t want much, do you.”
“Listen. You’re our only chance. There’s no one else we can insert. We’ll give you all the protection we can. But, in the end, it may be up to you.” He sighed. “Will you do it, Max? I know this is a cheesy line, but like I said earlier, your country needs you.”
Max stared out the window for a long time. He knew this was risky. He might even get killed. But for the first time since he’d been shot, his blood was stirring and his pulse racing. He had a purpose. This was what he lived for. To serve his country in any way he could.
“Well?” Si prodded.
Max turned. “You knew I’d do it, or you’d never have come here. But I need the morning to get things organized with the boat crews and put someone in charge while I’m away.”
“No problem.”
“Fourth of July, huh? They picked a symbolic day to do this. On purpose, I’m sure.”
“No shit. The assholes. I’d like to take them apart myself.” He paused. “There’s one more thing. I haven’t discussed it with anyone except my boss and Regan.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“Part of their attack could include biological weapons.”
Max’s blood chilled, and he had trouble breathing. “Bioterrorism? Are you kidding me?”
“I hope so. We haven’t picked up any chatter about it, but you know it is a favorite of the terrorists in the Middle East.”
Max knew that very well. The possibility of it on missions was always there in the background, which was why they carried special gear.
“Fuck, Si. We need to shut this damn thing down before it goes any further.”
Si nodded. “That we do. Okay, I’ll have the chopper pick us up at one tomorrow. That do it for you?”
“The chopper?” Max chuckled. “Yeah, that’ll be fine, but we’d better do it somewhere away from here or the townspeople will be gossiping twenty/four seven.”
“Gotcha. Oh, and there’s a bonus with this. You’ll have a wife with you.”
“A wife?” Max stared at his friend.
“Yeah. Max Ferron was recently married. No one in the group has met her, but we had Bernardo vouch for her along with his brother.”
“They can’t be too happy about all this.”
Si nodded. “They’re not. But Bernardo’s been a driving force in this group. His arms and munitions are the key to pulling this off. He’s had to reach out to others to gather the quantity he needs, which means they’re no doubt already setting up the beginning of their worldwide network.”
Max stared at the other man. “And who is this woman who’s my supposed wife?”
“She works for DHS as an Intelligence Operations Specialist. Analyzes chatter coming in. She’s the one who first picked up on this. When she did, she was moved onto the Bone Frog staff so we could keep the people in the loop as few as possible. She’s been thoroughly briefed ln everything and will be a big help.”
Right. Some computer analyst who probably thought this would be a walk in the park.
“I assume she looks enough like the new Mrs. Ferren to pass for her?”
“Even more than we could have hoped for. We were able to scrub whatever is out there on the Internet, but I’m sure this group already has printouts with her picture. They leave nothing to chance. It’s a given when your plan is to take over the world.”
“What’s her name, anyway?”
“Regan Shaw. Another reason she fits the bill. Max Ferren’s wife is also named Regan. How bizarre is it that both first names, yours and hers, fit? We figure it’s some kind of sign.”
“One can pray.” He rubbed his jaw. “I just hope she knows enough to make this charade work.”
“Don’t write her off before you meet her,” Si joked. “You might be in for a surprise.”
“We’ll see,” was all Max said.
Chapter Two
A large black Bell 525 chopper with no markings picked them up at exactly one o’clock the next day. After one stop for refueling, the helo landed them on a horse farm at about five-thirty in the afternoon. Max spent most of the time on the trip reviewing the material on a tablet Si handed him when he arrived. He was impressed with the amount of wealth and power that would be represented at this gathering and realized how important it was not to forget one little detail that involved these people.
A black SUV with blacked out windows—Max wondered if the government only had one color for every mean
s of transportation—waited to transport them to the house. As they pulled up to a gate set into heavy fieldstone posts, the driver punched a code into the security box, and the massive sections of the gate swung open.
“The entire perimeter of the grounds is connected to the security system, too,” Si told him. “That gate we just drove through can be electrified with a punch of a button if someone tries to climb it. Plus, there are ten cameras strategically placed, all monitored both at the house and at the headquarters of the security firm that’s on permanent retainer.”
Max looked at his friend. “These are no ordinary rich people, Si.”
Si shook his head. “No, they’re not. In fact, I can’t even tell you the reason for all this security. Just suffice it to say this is the safest place in DC for us to have this meeting.”
The vehicle drove directly into the garage and, moments later, Si was showing him to the massive bedroom that would be his for the next five days.
“I opted out of taking you to D.C. itself,” Si explained. “Since we don’t know who the top dog is yet, the one who we assume expects to rule the world, I didn’t want to put you in a position where someone might ask questions.”
“Smart.” Max nodded and looked around. “Anyway, I’m sure whatever you had doesn’t compare to this.”
The best description he could come up with for the enormous house was sparsely opulent. From the vast great room that looked out on immaculate landscaping to the kitchen with every conceivable appliance to the en suite bedrooms that surpassed any hotel he’d ever stayed in, the place spelled money and lots of it.
“I hope you guys didn’t have to pay rent for this,” he joked.
Si grinned. “It belongs to people with old money who don’t like interlopers trying to take over their country. All my boss had to do was ask, and it was ours.”
Max nodded. “I think I can handle it here.”
“Good, because you and your new wife will be here for five days being briefed and getting to know each other.”
Max could hardly wait. When he’d been bemoaning the lack of female companionship in his life, this wasn’t exactly what he’d meant.
Si and another person from his office spent the afternoon and a good part of the evening giving him background on the cabal whose meeting he’d be attending.
The next morning he was barely out of the shower, dressed, and in the great room drinking coffee when Si arrived with the same man he’d been with yesterday, carrying a large supply of pastries from something called Morning Glory.
“Do I have to leave some for anyone else?” Max joked, his mouth watering.
“You’d better. This is Regan’s favorite bakery, and she might take your head off if you don’t.”
Great, he thought. A computer nerd whose favorite place was a bakery with a cutesy name and who hoarded pastries. It was a good thing this secret meeting he was going to was only planned for a few days. He’d have to get all the information and get out as fast as possible.
“So, where is my pseudo wife, anyway?” Max picked up a glazed pastry puff with a cream filling and took a bite of it. Holy shit! His taste buds began doing a happy dance. Si hadn’t been kidding about the quality of the goods. “She’d better hurry if she wants any of these goodies.”
“There’d better be some for me,“ a female voice called out, “or this project is called off.”
Si laughed. “I figured I’d shoot him if he ate too many.”
Max looked up as three people came through the front door and into the great room. He thought it was a good thing he had put down his coffee mug or he’d have spilled the liquid all over himself. He took a deep breath to steady himself. Si had shown him a picture of Regan Shaw on the helo ride from Maine, but a casual phone shot did not do her justice. All he could think now as she walked into the room was, Holy fuck! This is my wife?
His mouth went dry, and his breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t remember the last time, if ever, a woman had this kind of impact on him. This was no military groupie or a self-involved woman looking for a night of hot sex. He was instantly hard, his cock pressing against the fly of his slacks, a reaction he hadn’t had to any female in too long a time. Even his balls tingled. He might have to find a moment to take himself in hand so he didn’t attack her the minute they were alone.
He guessed her height to be about five foot six. The dark-green sweater and beige slacks she wore, although not tight or clinging, still did little to disguise her lusciously rounded body, hitting her breasts and hips at just the right angle. Auburn hair fell in soft waves to her shoulders, framing a heart-shaped face with creamy skin. This was no office nerd or timid techno geek. This was a woman, with a capital W.
His mouth watered just at the sight of her. Instead of worrying about how he was going to pass her off as his wife he was more concerned with being able to keep his hands to himself. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d reacted to a woman this way. It was…well…okay, never. He’d had many women that made him hot and horny. But none had ever caused a full body reaction like this one.
Si bent his head to whisper in his ear. “Put your tongue back in your mouth, Max. Better men than you have lusted after her. No deal.”
“I’m not—”
But that was as far as he got. The woman came toward him, smiling warmly and holding out her hand.
“Regan Shaw,” she told him. “I’m happy to meet you. I understand we’re going to be married?”
Max nearly swallowed his tongue, while Si just laughed out loud.
“Your wife’s not shy,” he joked.
“I see that.” Max held her hand perhaps a shade longer than he should. It was firm, and there was strength in her grip, but the skin was soft. Enticing
Jesus, Max. Get a grip, and not on her hand. Or any other part of her body.
He released it and took a step back, just as the front door opened again and two more men entered the house.
“We having a party?” he asked Si under his breath.
“If only. Come on. Let me introduce you to the rest of the crew.”
Five minutes later, Max found himself seated at the big dining room table, a mug of coffee at hand and two platters of mouthwatering pastries set out on the table. He couldn’t help noticing that Regan Shaw had two of them on a plate in front of her. Interesting. Every woman he’d ever known had avoided food like that as if it was poison. Either she didn’t care or she worked out like crazy. Or was she one of those lucky people with a racing metabolism.
Si leaned over and whispered, “She works out every day. She could probably take you in two out of three falls.”
Max raised an eyebrow. But Si had already turned away from him, facing everyone seated there.
“I don’t have to tell the rest of you why we’re here or what’s going on, but before we go any further, let me introduce you to Max DiSalvo, Commander, United States Navy SEALs, Retired. Max.” He turned. “Meet the team—Kevin Markham, George Lorenzan and, yes, your newly minted wife, Regan Shaw.”
Max nodded. “Happy to meet you.”
“The first thing we need to do is bring Max up to speed.”
“I thought you did that when you went to Maine,” Kevin Markham said.
“I gave him the nuts and bolts, but we need to fill in the spaces.” He paused. “First, however, I have a piece of information that Regan picked up just last night. Regan. Let me give Max your credentials and then you have the floor. You’re the one who discovered this ugly little plot.”
She nodded. “Have at it.”
“Okay, Max. Regan has been with Bone Frog for about a year and a half. She was working at Naval Station Norfolk as an analyst until Homeland Security discovered her skills and brought her to Washington. When she tuned into this particular disaster, we stole her for Bone Frog.”
Max lifted an eyebrow and looked at the woman. “How long have you been doing this?”
“Altogether?” She wet her lips. “Twenty years.”
Max’s cock flexed and he had to swallow a moan. “That’s a long time.”
She nodded. “My husband was based out of there. I had a degree in computer science and a specialty in languages. They were looking for someone who could track chatter, and a friend opened doors for me.” She swallowed. “After Dylan was killed, it just made sense for me to keep my job. I had a circle of friends in the area, and I really liked my job. At least I felt as if in some small way I was helping him and his team. Doing something to get the people who killed him. It gave me a tremendous feeling of satisfaction, especially when I found out I had a knack for it.”
Her husband was killed? Max wondered how long ago.
“She has a gift for plucking information from out there and making sense of it,” Si told him.
“I’m sorry about your husband,” he told her.
“Thank you, but the possibility of it was something always in the back of our minds. The nature of his work, you know.” She ran her tongue over her lips again.
Max was sure if she did it too often he’d come just sitting there. Damn. This was what abstinence did to you,
“Would it be inappropriate for me to ask what he did and how he was killed?”
“He was a SEAL,” Si told him. “Like you. His team was ambushed on a mission, and everyone was killed. Regan’s got incredible skills, and she insisted she could find whatever information the Navy was looking for to see how the disaster happened and why. She knew how to search and what to look for, and went after it with ferocious determination.” His smile was anything but humorous. “She was as good as her word. After that, there was no question of her leaving.”
Max looked at Regan. “Can I ask how long ago that was?”
“Twenty years. My husband was twenty-four when he was killed.”
Max felt as if someone had punched him in the gut. She’d been a widow for twenty years? Devoting her life to helping take down bad guys who were very dangerous? Well, damn!
“I don’t know what to say,” he told her, “except I know we are all grateful to you.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want gratitude. I want to get as many of these bastards as I can. My husband died, like many others, to prevent people like this from gaining control of our country. I want to help in any way to make sure they didn’t die in vain.”
