by Cara Carnes
“Shut it,” Riley ordered. “We’re having a discussion about you and your glares, brother. You and Nolan don’t control who I dance with.”
“We do when you’re ten shots into the wind,” Nolan growled. “Both of you shut up so I can turn off the truck and get the food ordered. I’m not angering Tia Eva ’cause of you two. I’ll make you walk home first.”
“You wouldn’t dare. Then you’d have to toss Gage and Zoey out.”
“Like hell he would. I haven’t said a damn thing. I’ve been waiting for Tia Eva’s yummy. I’m not screwing this up. Don’t say a word, Sanderson.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Little Bit.”
Fallon laughed as he disconnected the call. “I thought I saw one of the Arsenal trucks behind us.”
“I guess we’re having company while we eat,” Rhea said.
9
Early morning light fractured the horizon as Rhea plodded her way to the debrief. Coffee swished from her Baby Yoda mug. To say she wasn’t fully awake was an understatement.
But for the first time in a long while, she’d awoken…
Calm.
Tia Eva’s greasy cheeseburgers and fries had hit the spot after an amazing night with her friends.
And Fallon.
They’d returned to the compound and opted to snag one of the many picnic tables in front of the visitor’s area. Riley, Cord, Nolan, Gage, and Zoey joined them.
Rhea had never seen the Mason brothers so relaxed. She suspected Ellie’s and Jesse’s wedding had a lot to do with that. The couple’s love for one another struck The Arsenal like a booster shot.
Rhea recalled Cord’s words shortly after the couple’s wedding. A man as battle scarred as Jesse finding the love of his life and moving on gives us all hope. There’s an end to the hell.
She hoped everyone at the compound managed to find their happily ever after. They sure as hell deserved it after all they endured on a daily basis.
Most everyone was already there by the time she entered and sat in her normal seat. Fallon was leaned against the half wall behind her. Awareness quickened her pulse when their gazes locked. She returned his half-grin, half-smirk with one of her own.
Last night had been exactly what she needed. She’d been nothing more than a woman out with her friends having a good time.
And that kiss.
Wowza.
She’d hoped he’d walk her back to the cottage and kiss her again, but Bree and the rest of the crew had arrived with food from another local haunt. By the time everyone was fed, she’d surrendered to responsibility and helped her drunken BFF to their cottage.
“No. That’s not an option,” Zoey said. She shook her head and glared at Mary, then Vi. “Tell me you aren’t both on board with that. You’re whacko.”
“It’s the smart play,” Jesse said.
“No. Fuck. That.” Zoey’s angered voice rose. Everyone in the room froze.
“There a problem?” Marshall asked, his tone indicating that he, in typical commando fashion, not only knew there was, but expected to be read in to said trouble. ASAP.
“It’ll be covered in the debrief,” Jesse said. Arms crossed, he looked at Z. “Personally, I agree with you, but it’s not our call. We present the options and let her decide.”
“Let who decide?” Bree asked. She stood in the entryway.
Nolan settled a hand on her hip and slowly shifted her to the side so he and Jud could enter. His eyebrows rose as his gaze swept the room. “Clearly, I missed something.”
“You aren’t the only one,” Cord commented as he sat. “Thought we chatted about this, brother.”
“She deserved a heads-up before the debrief,” Jesse commented.
The two brothers looked at one another. As always, Rhea sensed an entire conversation from looks alone. The commando communication method enthralled her. How could so much be conveyed without words? She’d analyzed many of the operatives and determined most of them possessed the ability to project far more than the average person without words.
Mary said it was because they’d worked together for so long. Instinctive knowledge. A symbiotic relationship. Rhea wished she could ask all of them some questions, but Vi and Mary said operatives didn’t want to answer questions about much—especially how they interacted with one another.
Whatever.
“Let’s get started,” Marshall suggested when Addy entered. The door swished closed. “Maybe we should start with what you four were discussing.”
“Not yet,” Mary said. “We need to review what HERA discovered from the Tucson takedown.”
“Sit down, Z,” Cord ordered. “We’ll work through this. We always do.”
“Little Bit, come here,” Gage said. Arms spread wide, he shoved off the wall and sat at the table.
Zoey glared in his direction a moment, then motored toward him. Red-faced, hands fisted at her sides, she plopped down on the man’s lap and crossed her arms.
Zoey was a fierce powerhouse of brilliance behind a computer—arguably just as good as Mary and Vi in many ways. But she lacked the emotional disconnection Mary, Vi, Bree, and Rhea had conditioned themselves to. Whatever had her upset would likely detonate the room soon enough.
The Masons looked at one another.
Marshall’s jaw twitched. Nolan cursed. Rhea doubted either were privy to the why, but it didn’t matter because people as protective and loving as Zoey didn’t get angry without a reason.
“All the results indicate the agent found in Tucson is highly effective with immediate morbidity,” Vi said into the awkward silence. “We’ve not confirmed it’s what’s in the missiles we lost in Cuba.”
“Supplies were ordered yesterday. Most should arrive later today,” Rhea said. “I’ll begin producing the neutralizer once we have equipment and supplies available. Again, these won’t be antidotes. They’ll simply help safely destroy any stockpiles we come across.”
“Which circles us back to our ongoing investigation into Cuba,” Mary said. “Recent chatter on the Dark Web hints to an underground auction of a new chemical weapon. The exact location isn’t available, but we anticipate Russia. Our operatives in Cuba indicate an increased presence at the facility.”
“They’re building more,” Marshall said.
“That’s the current indication,” Jesse said.
“Talk me through why they’d take the risk. They knew the facility got struck once. We took their forced labor,” Addy said. “Why take the risk of getting taken down again?”
“My guess is they’re cocky,” Mary said as she held out her hands and took her daughter from Dylan. The infant cooed and reached her hand upward, then settled. “They have increased security, both armed personnel and drones. We expect the takedown to be much harder this time.”
Surveillance images from HERA’s drones in Cuba filled the screens around them. Bree stood and headed across the room to one of the images.
“Is this the latest imagery?” She pointed at an image of a large machine-gun-looking device.
“Three hours old,” Jesse said. “Any idea what we’re looking at?”
“My guess would be an electromagnetic weapon of some sort, something to neutralize not only electrical equipment but any powered drones and coms.” Bree crossed her arms. “This is their defense against us. We modified our drones and HERA, the bastard responded. I bet he thinks this’ll take HERA out.”
“Will it?” Dylan asked.
“Hard to say until we’re within the strike zone of whatever that is, but we’ve shored up HERA’s defenses. The drones and coms are impenetrable. There’s no way in hell they’re going down to anything Carlisle can build,” Bree said.
“She’s right,” Rhea said. “HERA is ready for the war.”
“The son of a bitch is gonna come at us hard with shit like what we saw in Tucson,” Bree said. “We need the new weaponry rotting in my area field approved. We almost had our ass handed to us. That can’t happen again.”
“I ag
ree,” Jesse said. “But we need to know it’ll work and be safe for the field teams. We can’t have them injured.”
“Set up field exercises for tomorrow afternoon, mandatory attendance for all teams,” Marshall said. “Start with the devices Fallon’s team used in Tucson and move on from there. We’ll work through the issues, determine which would be usable for the Cuba takedown.”
“What’s the ETA on the Cuba takedown?” Nolan asked.
“We’re sticking a pin in that for now,” Mary said. “Let’s circle back to the upcoming auction. Chatter indicates Russia in one week, possibly two. We need a presence there to take the buyers down and destroy the missiles.”
“And the seller? Is it Carlisle?”
“From what we’ve uncovered, it appears Carlisle is in bed with a splinter group of the cells run by Yuri Volkov. Volkov is a newer pakhan within the bratva,” Vi said.
“I think you just lost me,” Gage said.
“Pakhans are like the godfathers of the bratva and typically run criminal cells managed via an intermediary, or middle manager. Intel coming in indicates there was a rebellion within Volkov’s ranks,” Mary said.
“And the splinter cell is somehow in bed with Carlisle,” Fallon said.
“More than likely, Carlisle helped that rebellion happen,” Zoey muttered as she stood from Gage’s lap. “There’s been a lot of chatter from the NSA and CIA arena about potential upheavals and their impact.”
“Money,” Fallon guessed. “They made it happen to pad someone’s accounts.”
“And power. They impact Volkov, they could impact other factions,” Rhea said. “There’s no telling what impact they could have. Political, economic, societal.” The possibilities were almost endless.
“So this splinter cell is selling the missiles they obtained via Carlisle,” Dallas said. “That’s the assumption at this point. But why? Why obtain missiles then turn around and sell them?”
“Revolutions take money, lots of it. If this splinter cell intends to take out Volkov and assume control, they’d need more than a few missiles,” Mary said. “We’re expecting them to sell a portion of the missiles they obtained and keep the others to use against Volkov.”
“Wouldn’t the other bratva groups side with Volkov, and destroy all thoughts of revolts within their own cells?” Bree asked.
“Not necessarily,” Jud said. “It’d be to their advantage to remain neutral until they see who wins.”
“The Russian Mafia is crazy complex and way above my understanding,” Zoey admitted. “I’m thinking this splinter cell is financing the missile production. They keep some for their own use, sell the rest, split the proceeds with Carlisle.”
“Why would Carlisle split proceeds? Couldn’t he produce them without the cell and keep all the profits?” Dallas asked.
“That’d put him on the radar with the NSA and CIA and a whole bunch of other agencies he’s likely also working for,” Rhea said. “He’s dirty but needs to stay clean to keep the cushy government gigs.”
“For this splinter cell to be working with Carlisle, they’ve gotta have a stateside group somewhere,” Vi said. “They’d want proximity to wherever the weapons are being built to oversee things. They wouldn’t trust Carlisle.”
“Cuba,” Jesse said. “Last missiles we saw were there. Production at the facility just increased.”
“Cuba is likely. So is Florida,” Mary said. “It’s nearby, but stateside for their other revenue streams. They’d move a lot more drugs and women and weapons in the states than they would in Cuba.”
“That’s way more possibilities and moving pieces and parts than I’m comfortable with,” Fallon said. “How do we narrow it down?”
“Now we’re back to the discussion we were having,” Vi said. “We don’t have enough irrefutable evidence to take the auction down. We don’t know the fallout from that move. As much as I’d like to think we could declare war on the entire Russian mafia and win, we all know better. We aren’t ready for that war.”
“Which means we eat the elephant one bite at a time,” Jesse said. He looked at Zoey. “And we can’t be the only ones snacking.”
Jud cursed. Arms crossed, he regarded Jesse. “You need Kristof.”
Kristof Lavrov was a former associate of Jud’s from his assassin years with The Collective. The man had ingratiated himself into The Arsenal’s world back when Zoey’s troubles struck. He’d agreed to help them when Zoey’s friend Jade was taken by slavers. Addy had gone undercover as an auction item Kristof “secured.”
But the bastard did something to the amazing operative. Addy hadn’t ever spoken about whatever went down between her and Kristof, but Zoey was pissed—so much so she’d erased every identity Kristof had and recreated him as a sexual predator.
Men like Kristof had enough connections and clout to undo whatever Zoey did. Mostly. But she’d declared her own personal war on Jud’s former associate—one she clearly wasn’t prepared to set aside.
“We can’t trust him.” Zoey’s voice rose in anger as she typed on her laptop.
“What’s the plan?” Jud asked.
“It’s still in process.” Jesse stood and paced between the table and the door. “We need more intel on the splinter cell and the potential fallout from taking it down. Would it be contained? Would Volkov react? Favorably? Negatively? Would the ripple go all the way through the Russian mafia?”
Mary rested her head in her palms and sighed. “We also need to locate the cell nearest Carlisle’s facilities. As established earlier, Cuba is the safest assumption, but Florida is also a possibility. As are several others. We need more data. We need to hit their headquarters in Boston.”
They’d made two attempts to pull data from Carlisle Industries’ corporate headquarters. Neither had gone well because of extensive security.
“Again.” Cord pounded his fist on the table and looked away. “Hopefully, this time we can get past their damn firewall long enough to grab everything.”
“I want to know who that bastard hired,” Zoey said. “They’re good. I hacked into Israeli Intelligence but didn’t even get close to all of Carlisle’s databases.”
“Why were the facilities so easy to crack then?” Nolan crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes.
“We severed the Cuba facility and Tucson from the network. That gave us our in,” Vi said.
“Boston is the network hub, so it has more security. With Cord in the building and accessing the physical system, Vi, Zoey, and I will get in.” Mary looked at Zoey. “And I agree. Whoever set their security up is good, but you’re better. We all are.”
“What’s the plan?” Dylan asked as he massaged his wife’s shoulders.
“It’s a two-pronged strike.” Jesse halted the pacing. “We send Cord into headquarters to access their physical servers. Mary, Vi, and Z would hack in remotely and help him pull everything. To give him enough time to work his magic, we’d create a diversion—one which will hopefully net us more direct information from Carlisle himself.”
“What about that worm you used before? Why couldn’t you feed that into the system and walk away?” Gage asked.
“Their security is too good. If it was a remote facility, it’d likely have long enough to get everything, but we can’t guarantee that for headquarters,” Vi said. “The last hack attempt gave us a front-row seat to the expediency of their security.”
“And even with Vi and I both working, we were only in for two minutes,” Zoey grumbled.
“So that leaves the second plan. Which is?” Marshall’s eyebrows rose as his voice died off at the end. The man likely already knew the answer.
Unease filled Rhea when Jesse’s gaze moved to her.
“Fuck no.” Fallon’s voice rose as he shook his head. “That’s not happening.”
“Hear us out first.” Vi held up a hand.
“It’s a smart strategy,” Mary said. “Jesse and I are certain sending Rhea in to confront Stan Carlisle directly will rattle him enough to
make him blink. He’ll make calls.”
“He’ll make mistakes,” Jesse added. “And we’d have teams on him, watching his every move.”
“And she’d likely be in the building when your hack of their system is spotted. Then what?” Fallon glared at the other side of the table, then cursed.
“I’m confident the four of us working together can prevent a shutout,” Mary said. “Z and Vi have written a new worm, one designed for the security we saw the last time.”
Nolan looked at Fallon. “He’s got a point. There’s no guarantee they didn’t change it.”
“No, but that takes time. A lot of time. And talent,” Vi said. “Whoever they hired is good, but not that good. We’ll stay in this time.”
“So while you all are hacking your way into Carlisle’s databases and dumping all the data, Rhea is in the bastard’s face rattling his cage so he’ll get nervous and make calls,” Addy surmised.
“Carlisle can’t fix his own problems, not the kind Rhea is stirring. He’d call someone to handle her and us,” Jud added.
“That’d likely get us a bead on the splinter cell’s local base or bases.” Dallas tapped the table with his fist.
Vi nodded. “That’s the hope.”
“And while we’re doing all that, the missiles are being sold to God only knows who,” Bree said. “We can’t let that happen. It’s bad enough we lost them in Cuba. Are we really going to stand down and let them get away again?”
“First, it’ll likely not be all of them. We’ll still need to locate the remainders not at the auction and neutralize them as well,” Mary said. “We’d use Kristof to tag the missiles and the buyers. Once we know their locations, we neutralize them.”
“And we’re just gonna trust him to do what we ask because…” Gage dragged the last word out. Eyebrows lifted, he looked down the table at Jesse, whose jaw twitched as he glanced at Addy. “Son of a bitch.”
“That’s not happening. We’ve got a shitload of teams here. Why her?” Dallas asked.
“I’m the most qualified,” Addy said. “Many of my assignments at Hive were in Eastern Europe. Hell, I still have at least two covers that are still usable—one of which was within Kristof’s network. I’m pretty sure everyone on my team has usable covers that have history.”
