by Cara Carnes
Rhea tensed. “There’s nothing wrong with double-checking.”
“You’re dragging your heels because you’re scared out of your sexy mind.” Fallon edged into her personal space again. “I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe so we can get you back where women like you belong.”
“Women like me.”
“Uh oh,” Bree said. Eyes wide, she looked between Rhea and Fallon. “That wasn’t the smartest thing to say. Them are fighting words.”
“Geniuses who spin miracles when others fail,” Fallon said. “You should be here, doing what you do best. Women like you shouldn’t be out in the field, getting dirty.”
Rhea swallowed, unsure which part of his statement to break down first. She wanted to get in his face and tell him she could handle herself in the field. The genius compliments threw her, though. “I get plenty dirty.”
“I know. I drag you into that trench more than most, asking you to concoct something nasty when we’ll be up against an impossible mission.” Fallon traced along her chin. “Not many would do that and look us in the eye afterward. I just hope when all this is over you can still look me in the eye.”
“I’m the one who should worry,” Rhea commented. “This is all because of my research.”
“We’re taking him down. Whatever it takes. You sure you’re ready for this?”
“I am.” Rhea looked him in the eye. “Whatever it takes. I’m ready.”
“I hope to hell you are, because this is about to get dirtier than you’ve ever imagined.”
3
Fallon paced in the hallway outside operations. Donovan had guided Rhea and the team outside. They’d be halfway to the hangar by now. Son of a bitch. Agitation kept him moving back and forth. Left to right. Pause. Turn. Right to left. Pause. Turn.
“There a reason you’re pacing outside Operations?” Dylan asked.
“I need to chat with Edge.”
“She’s busy.” The man crossed his arms as he remained between Fallon and the Operations door. “You and her have chatted about your concerns enough. Whatever your problems with Rhea are, work them out without bothering my wife. The decision’s been made. Everyone agrees except you.”
“I need to chat with Edge.” The man didn’t understand. This wasn’t about his wife. It wasn’t about The Arsenal. He ran his hands through his hair. “Fuck.”
A soft click sounded before the door opened. Dylan did a half turn to look behind him as Edge slid out. Baby Jessie rested in her arms. Swaddled in a yellow blanket, she was the picture of innocence that stilled Fallon’s frantic movements. For a moment, he could almost forget the war waging inside him.
“Fallon.” Surprise registered in Edge’s voice as she leaned against Dylan, who wrapped an arm around her. “Why aren’t you with your team?”
“You know why. Please, Edge. Call this off.”
Her lips thinned. “I thought we’d settled this.”
“She’s not ready. This isn’t safe.” Fallon needed her to understand. “I’ll get everything the bastard has to give us. My team and I will take him down. Let Doc stay where she’s safe in the lab.”
“Why’s this so important to you?” Dylan asked.
Fallon’s jaw twitched, but he remained silent. How could he make them understand when he didn’t even know?
“I haven’t asked for much, Edge. Give me this play.” He paused. “Please.”
She looked up at Dylan as she shifted their daughter into his arms. “Take her inside, please? I’ll be there in a minute.”
“You sure?” Indecision reflected in Dylan’s gaze. The operative was one hell of a protective husband, a fact Fallon admired even though he hated the uncertainty when the man’s focus settled on him.
Fallon wouldn’t ever hurt Edge. Dylan should know that more than anyone. No. The man was protecting his wife. To him, she was Mary.
The woman he loved.
The mother of his child.
“It’s fine. I’ll be there in a minute.” She scanned her badge and the door chimed.
Dylan entered Operations with one final glance at Fallon. The unspoken threat remained long after he left. Edge took a step closer, into Fallon’s personal space. She was one of a very few he allowed that close. She’d earned the right years ago, back when she’d turned his life around.
“We don’t know what we’ll find in the Tucson facility. We can’t risk her not being there if there’s a biochemical agent in play,” Edge said, her voice soft. Patient. “You’ve always trusted my judgment. Why are you fighting this so hard? Help me understand.”
“I can’t explain it. I just know she shouldn’t be out there. Not with anyone, but especially not with us. We aren’t like the other teams.”
“I know.” Edge touched his forearm. He took a step backward until she pulled back and crossed her hands. “You don’t think she knows that? She supplies the drugs you use.”
“She should be tucked away in her lab where she’s safe, not in the field trying to prove something. None of you should expect her out there. This shit is not her fault.”
“You think I blame her?”
“Don’t you? Why the hell else would you have her out there? And don’t bullshit me, Edge. I’ve broken into enough level three and level four facilities over the years to know we could handle it without her there.”
“I don’t blame her,” Edge whispered, her face paler than before. “You really think that.”
“She blames herself. She doesn’t need everyone dogpiling blame onto her.”
“I’m not.”
“Right.” He glared down at her a moment. “Never thought I’d say this, Edge, but you’re wrong. Doc shouldn’t be involved in the field ops on this.”
“These aren’t typical facilities. The bastard used Rhea’s research to design whatever he’s created, which means we’re not facing normal assholes here, Fallon. We’re facing biochemical agents created from her mind. You’ve seen what she’s capable of. Like it or not, she has to be involved because no one else can combat her genius. She’s my friend, more like a sister than anyone else here, except for Vi. I would never put her in harm’s way if I didn’t trust her to be smart enough to stay safe. More importantly, I trust you.”
Fallon recoiled. He didn’t deserve anyone’s trust—especially hers.
“Look at me,” she demanded. She grabbed his forearm and squeezed until they locked gazes. “I know.”
Fuck.
“I know you figured out who she is.”
The person who’d provided the drug used to spring him from the Bangkok prison. Without that… “That doesn’t matter.”
“To you it does. You want to protect her from this. So do I.”
“Then let me go in and kill the bastard. We’ll get answers before he dies. I swear I’ll get what you need.”
“He’s not the only one in play, Fallon. Those weapons went somewhere, likely to Russians, but we have no idea who else bought stuff from him. We need more answers than you can get alone. She’ll be safe because you’ll keep her safe. I have zero doubt.”
“You shouldn’t trust me with that, not with her. She’s too important.”
“So are you.” Determination harshened her voice. He looked away, but she squeezed his arm again until his gaze returned. “I won’t risk you or your team by not having her there, not when every second counts. I can’t trust that the modifications Bree, Rhea, Vi, and I made to HERA will hold. What if HERA goes down again and communications go out? What if you’re cut off from us and she’s not there to handle whatever biochemical agents might be in play?”
HERA had crashed the first time Addy’s team stumbled across the Cuba compound. Carlisle’s drones and other tech were so similar in design to The Arsenal’s system, it’d frozen. Fortunately, the women had enhanced security. But it was Edge’s job to keep everyone safe, even if that meant putting someone at a greater risk to do so.
“We’re prepared for that,” he said. “We don’t do what we d
o without expecting to end up six feet under. I’ve been flirting with death a long time.”
“You’re Arsenal. That makes you mine to keep safe. Whatever it takes. If that means adding someone to your team to keep your head pulled out of your ass, I will.” She glared up at him. “Tell me you’re on board with this, or I’m adding Jud to your team and putting him in charge.”
“Jud? Why the fuck would you drag him into this? He’s not even Arsenal.” His wife was due to deliver their first child soon. No way in hell he’d leave her side.
“He’s been Arsenal since the moment he stepped into Vi’s life. As for why, he’s the only one who’ll scare the shit out of your crew. I’m not dumb enough to think he’ll scare you.”
Judson Jensen was a former Collective assassin and one of the most intimidating men Fallon had ever met, but Edge wasn’t wrong. No one scared Fallon.
Except a gorgeous brunette with pencils shoved in her hair and a playlist bigger than his.
“You aren’t that different from him, you know,” Edge commented. “Working alone as much as you did, it’s probably not easy to let people in. Lots of operatives come here with that problem. Like Gage, for example.”
Fallon grunted. Gage Sanderson was like most other operatives at The Arsenal. They’d kicked ass for their country, then continued to do so under the Masons. Some had seen intense shit. Others, like Sanderson, had been betrayed.
So were you.
Fallon ignored the thought.
“She’ll be safe.”
“You can’t promise that, not when we’re about to declare war and have no idea who we’re up against. It’s not just Carlisle.”
“It’s not just Carlisle,” Edge confirmed.
Fuck.
“It’s not because of the prison break,” he admitted. Fallon wouldn’t ever share what he’d done when he’d first arrived at The Arsenal. The woman in front of him had declared war on the assholes who’d hurt her and she’d won.
She didn’t need to know he’d declared a war of his own for her and won.
Rhea knew, though.
She’d kept his secret.
Fallon still remembered the shock he’d experienced when he’d walked into The Arsenal’s operations building afterward and found Rhea curled up on the lobby’s sofa, eyes on the door. Waiting.
For him.
“You good?” she’d asked.
“Yeah, Doc. I’m good.”
“It’s done?”
“Yeah. It’s done.”
“Did it work? Any problems?”
“It was perfect, Doc. Thanks.”
They’d said nothing more to one another. She’d curled back into her blanket and pillow and drifted to sleep. He’d sat there and watched her sleep, trying to remember the last time someone had given a damn enough to stay up and wait for him.
Op after op, he’d noticed her in his peripheral when returning to the compound. She rarely spoke to him, never to the team. But she’d been there. Assessing from a distance. Watching.
Worrying.
Waiting.
Looking for her had become an addiction, a twisted game of hide and seek he never acknowledged. He’d scraped off everyone who mattered long ago, not that there had ever been many. Bones, Digger, Reaper, and Church had been the only ones who ever watched his back.
And O’Ryan before he’d shown what a real bastard he was.
“You’d be good together,” Edge commented, her lips upturned into a slight smirk.
“Don’t. That won’t ever happen.”
“You aren’t man enough to handle a great woman?”
“Fuck you, Edge.” He ground the words out, turned and walked away as her laughter echoed down the hallway.
“Graves,” she called out. He halted. “I’ve never failed a mission. I sure as hell won’t on this one, not when two of the most important people in my life are out there.”
“I didn’t realize the Carlisle facility was so close to Mount Graham.” Rhea peered out the vehicle at the looming peak to her right. “That’s a problem.”
“How’s that a problem?” Fallon asked, shifting slightly in the seat beside her.
Darkness enveloped the area, blanketing it in a pitch black few areas could summon as easily as the desert. Although Mount Graham was a good seventy miles northeast of Tucson, they were headed two and half miles to the north of the mountain, so within the range but not.
“Never mind. We’re likely far enough away not to damage the habitat,” Rhea commented, her voice a low whisper she barely heard over the hum of the vehicle’s engine.
“The habitat? It’s desert,” Spade commented. “What’s there to damage?”
Rhea realized she knew next to nothing about the man sitting beside her. His nickname was Spade. She thought his real name was Gray but wasn’t sure if that was a first or last name. Had he been in the military?
Unlike the other Arsenal teams, Fallon’s was… mysterious. It was the politest term for five of the quietest and most secretive men on The Arsenal’s payroll. Bree called them the ghost squad. She wasn’t wrong. The fact that they didn’t interact much with the rest of the operatives didn’t bother Rhea. She understood wanting to keep themselves removed.
She did the same thing—sequestered herself in the lower-level lab whenever she could. In a way, it felt good to know she wasn’t the only antisocial one at The Arsenal. Though she was far different from Fallon and his team, they all shared one irrefutable trait. They dispensed death. They were The Arsenal’s lethal solution.
Challenge hung in the man’s words. She hadn’t ever backed down, even when it didn’t matter. The mundane conversation kept her mind away from the fear scratching her insides. No. It wasn’t fear. It was… unidentifiable. Perhaps a culmination of complex emotions.
“The Mount Graham red squirrel for one.” Rhea met the sniper’s gaze, which she barely saw thanks to the car lights from oncoming traffic. “It’s also one of the holiest mountains and is considered sacred by the Apache and other Native peoples.”
“How do you know all this stuff? Do you like remember everything you read or something?” Lucas Donovan asked.
“Watch it,” Fallon warned from her other side.
“It’s a reasonable question,” Rhea defended. “I do remember most of what I read and hear, but my knowledge of this is more academic. One of my minor interests was botany. I spent a summer in this desert.”
“Carlisle with you?” Fallon asked.
She tensed as the pieces locked into place. “Yes. I hadn’t remembered until just now, but we spent several weeks out here, studying the habitats.”
“This wasn’t in the data we gathered from you,” Zoey said, her voice as clear as if she were in the vehicle. The newest coms were top-of-the-line.
“I should go through the data and expand a bit.” Remembering the time she’d spent with Stan Carlisle wasn’t pleasant, even though their relationship hadn’t been particularly memorable.
He’d been…
Average.
Everything about their relationship had been lackluster from the start. She’d enjoyed her time with him because they had a lot in common. They’d spend hours talking about subjects that would bore most people. Each day bled into the next when she’d been with Stan.
Perhaps that’s why she’d forgotten about that summer they’d spent in the desert. It’d been one class project of many.
“Table it for later,” Fallon ordered as the van slowed to a stop alongside the deserted road. He reached up and touched the com in his ear. “We’re in position.”
“Settle back and rest, Doc. We’ve got a long wait,” Spade said, a smirk on his face.
Fallon glared. “No one calls her Doc but me.”
“Oh, yeah? Guess I’ll come up with my own nickname.” The man winked as she shifted on the seat.
“Outside, Spade. You just pulled the first lookout shift,” Fallon said.
“You serious?”
“As a heart attack
.” Fallon glared at the man. “Keep your mouth shut and your eyes on the mission. She’s not here to entertain you. Far as you and the others are concerned, she’s not here at all. Now get the fuck outside before I get pissed.”
Wow. Rhea’s gaze darted between Spade, Fallon, and Donovan as an awkward silence settled within the cargo van. The other team members shifted, but no one commented as the two men entered a stare down. In normal circumstances, she could handle tense situations by reviewing known datasets and determining the most likely outcomes.
But she knew nothing about Spade, Lucas Donovan, Walker, and Sanchez. What little she’d learned about Fallon left more questions than she’d started with. Why couldn’t anyone but him call her Doc? She didn’t even particularly like the nickname. Yeah, she had a doctorate, but she wasn’t a medical doctor.
Weird.
“Forget it. She’s not worth the fight,” Spade declared as he opened the side door and exited the cargo van.
“Not smart,” Lucas commented into the silence.
“Shut it. She stays with me or you, no one else. Distractions are the last thing we need. We go in, take the facility down, then move on.” Fallon’s jaw twitched as he looked at her. “Get some rest. It’ll be a long wait before go time.”
Rest was the last thing she wanted, but she nodded and pulled out her phone. She pulled the com out of her ear, put it into her side pocket and popped in her earbuds. She thumbed to the Calm The Hell Down playlist and hit play. Figuring out why commandos got pissed wasn’t on her to-do list today. Let them sort their own mess.
The Carlisle facility outside Tucson hugged the edge of a mountain range and was surrounded by desert. Solar panels covered the roof of the one-story structure, but the sheer number proved their initial intel was correct—the majority of the building was underground.
Her watch chimed two in the morning, not that the time mattered. Except for three security guards, employees had vacated the facility more than four hours ago—a fact she knew because she had sat in a sweltering van with Fallon and his team since they’d arrived hours ago. Bushes and a desert-colored canopy covered the vehicle, not that anyone would’ve likely spotted it since Sanchez had driven them off the small roadway leading to the facility.
