by Cara Carnes
“Vi, get Fallon in here. He and Gage Sanderson are the only two I’ll clear to handle enhanced interrogations of Martin Driggs and anyone else for this mission.” She pulverized Marshall with a glare. “Am I clear, or do we need to renegotiate our positions here?”
“You’re crystal clear,” Dylan growled as he charged out and slammed the door.
“I’ve got him,” Dallas said.
“No. I’ve got him.” Addy ran out.
Fuck.
Mary took a couple deep breaths and forced the pain aside. Emotion had no place in operations, and this was a critical mission. Not because of what Driggs had done to her, but because of who he worked for. The fact he might have murdered Peter. Who was everything he intended to take going to?
The questions listed in her mind, but they didn’t need them. The men gathered around her knew.
“Mary, I...”
“Don’t.” She held up her hand and kept her gaze averted from Vi’s. “Please. Not now. Our responsibilities as operations is clear. We protect our assets, even from themselves. Going in there would’ve psychologically damaged him, perhaps permanently. It’s why he left Delta. I’m not a shrink, but I’m not taking the chance. Not with him or anyone else. Not when we have men who can do the job on site.”
“You ever stop and think that’s part of the problem. You’re his. It’s his responsibility to protect you, get the job done. Not Sanderson’s, and sure as fuck not Graves’s.” Marshall said. “He’s not a robot. He can’t turn his emotions on and off like a cold-hearted bitch.”
And she could. The punch landed dead center. She closed her eyes and took the hit a few beats, then got to work. “If you’re done ripping me up to defend your little brother instead of leading your organization like an effective manager would, can we please get to work?”
“Edge, you shouldn’t be here. Not without Dylan.” Jesse approached, hesitancy in his voice.
“Well, that was his choice. And clearly, I can’t trust any of you to have his six and get this done without anyone being traumatized by it afterward.”
“And you won’t be traumatized?” Vi shot back angrily. “Talk about a fucking ironic situation.”
“If you don’t like it, get the hell out. Addy and Dylan already have.” She shouted the statement, channeling what rage she could to expel it before it seared her insides. “Go ahead. Get the fuck out. Leave like everyone else. I don’t need anyone. Keeping promises. Helping me through. Fuck it. I’ll do it myself. I may be a cold-hearted bitch when necessary, but at least I won’t get gutted by doing my job and keeping someone I love safe.”
She sat at the laptop and pounded her password into the keyboard. Graves and Sanderson entered, their expressions murderous as they swept the room. Fallon’s settled on hers.
“Where’s Dylan?”
“Getting his ass kicked by Addy. Doctor Parsons and Logan are trying to calm the two of them down, though no one knows what the hell went down.” Gage looked at Marshall. “What’s the play?”
“Don’t ask me. She’s in charge,” Marshall said. “She’s The Edge. She’s always in control.”
“Jesus, you’re a real bastard when you’re pissed,” Jesse commented. “Back off. Don’t say anything more you’ll regret when the tension settles.”
“More like testosterone. Freaking goddamn men.” Vi muttered under her breath.
“Driggs is in containment. Here are the briefing notes—what I can get from the system since no one had updated anything and everyone is focused on something else but the objective.” She handed the electronic pad to Fallon. “You two decide how you want to approach. I’m tapping out on this one.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. You’re green lighted. Either of you can handle it without blow back. That’s all I wanted, and I’m too close to plan the play myself. No one in here is neutral enough to take my place effectively, so I’m here. But I’m ceding control to you two.” She leaned back in the chair and covered her face. “I must’ve left my cold-hearted bitch back in my other robot outfit.”
“I’m missing something here,” Gage commented.
“Several somethings,” Fallon added.
“He’s marked,” she said. “Marshall didn’t say so, but we handled more than enough of these at Hive for me to know. Final order is to neutralize. That’s the summation of what you missed.”
Anger seeped through the mental barriers she’d constructed. Fallon and Gage hadn’t even left the control room, and she was already shredding through her last nerve. Damn.
With a deep breath, she held up her hand in the hold motion they used at Hive. Fallon froze, watched. Waited. She scrolled through her cell and found the number she’d programmed, more out of a compulsive need to have everyone’s contact information at the ready than an expectation of need.
The phone didn’t work. Of course it didn’t. The walls probably prevented it for security reasons. She grabbed the land line and keyed in the number.
“Parsons.”
“This is Mary. Fallon Graves and Gage Sanderson are prepared to interrogate Martin Driggs. I’m unfit to fulfill my duties and need you to take my place. They’re unlikely to require assistance, but they need backup in either case. No one here is neutral enough to handle it. I’m sure Logan can show you where containment is.”
“We’ll be there immediately.”
Mary waited in the tense silence. Parsons and Logan entered, their assessing gazes sweeping the room. The latter crouched in front of her, but she couldn’t handle the pretend world where what she felt mattered. Not in here, where it was her job to keep people safe. Secure the assets. Eliminate the threats.
Dylan had almost stepped over a line for her. And everyone was okay with it. That’s what pissed her off the most. But she had no room for anger. It was an emotion, and when people held the position she did, emotions were a weakness. One which jeopardized everyone.
That’s why she’d been so successful. She’d been nothing more than the job. A robot, just like Marshall said. For a few wonderful days she’d had good. Clean, whole emotions tied to nothing but her. Life. Happiness.
Love.
But the foolish pipe dream was over, safely packed away somewhere deep inside where it would remain as long as necessary to end this mess. Then she’d decide what, if anything, to do afterward. Now that she’d had a taste of what was, living numb killed something deep inside her.
“Mary, I need you to talk to me,” Vi said.
“Later, not now.” She rubbed her face and wished the godforsaken day would end already. “Someone text me when this is over and we have answers.”
Mary stood and did the unthinkable—she left.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Mary didn’t rationalize what she was doing. Truth told, she didn’t even realize what she was doing until it was mostly done. The mess hall was dark, but well stocked. Dylan and his brothers spared no expense to offer whatever food their men and the visiting soldiers in the Warrior’s Path might want.
Three industrial-sized refrigerators lined the back area. A large, twelve-burner cooking surface was along the half wall toward the front. A U-shaped serving bar was empty, but she imagined fruits, vegetables, assorted meats and cheese with pertinent condiments filling the area. A small cooking area was up front. Waffle irons and small skillets lined the bar to the right of the station.
Hot breakfast.
She’d enjoyed an omelet one morning. Dylan had fixed it for her. Her gut tightened. Guess she’d messed up that before it even really got anywhere. Typical. Always screwing stuff up.
She wrapped paper towels around her sacrifices and trudged out the side door. To hell with whatever the sign said. Someone in surveillance would just have to deal. No alarms sounded. She and Vi had ended all that whoop and blare drama. It was so twenty years ago. Don’t tell the bad guys you know they’re there. That was the new rage.
The smell of hay and stable assailed her nostrils when she entered. She wasn�
��t exactly sure what the smell of a stable was, seeing how this was the first one she’d technically been in, but she imagined manure, animal, and country. Yeah, country definitely had a smell, one seared into her brain as the best place going.
A part of her grieved for what she’d lost. The other accepted it wasn’t ever really hers. An asset. That’s what she was. Peter had always called her that. The best asset he’d cherry picked from MIT. They hadn’t always gotten along. Death had a way of casting a rosy haze around the bad parts of someone.
Dylan’s high-handed actions reminded her a lot of the head-to-head battles she and Peter had when things weren’t going according to his pre-conceived plan. If it’d been him in there today, he would’ve already hunted her down and talked it out. He was big on not letting her simmer for long.
“I’m thinking I really messed up this time, girl.”
Dylan’s voice boomed from Peanut’s stall. Mary looked down at the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches wistfully. Apparently, they’d both had the same idea. This was his ranch, his family. His horse. His sister’s habit to mimic.
She’d give him the space he needed.
“She was right, you know. None of us are good with the black part of what we’ll be doing. It’s part of the job though. You do what you’ve gotta do and move on. She was wrong too, though.”
Mary froze. Her gut tightened.
“I would’ve walked away unchanged because it kept her safe. She would’ve gotten me through. Jesus, how the hell did I fall this fast?”
Mary ignored the way her heart thudded hard and wild. Or the way her breathing grew more labored the closer she got to Peanut. To Dylan. She clutched the PBJ in her good hand as she turned the corner and angled into the stall’s entry.
Shock clogged her throat, killing the scream before it escaped. Speakers sat in the hay a few yards away. Dylan wasn’t there. A recording.
A trap.
The sandwiches crashed to the ground as rough hands grabbed her and slammed her against the side of the stall. Amusement echoed in hot breaths against her ear.
“This was almost too simple. Come on, bitch, time for me to get a nice, fat pay day.”
Dan Hennessey. The name chimed in her head. They’d escorted him off property though. Fear chewed through her thoughts as she looked over her shoulder, then at the gun pressed into her head.
“Walk. Don’t make a sound. This’ll all be over soon.”
“Let me go. Let me go, and I won’t tell. You don’t have to do this.”
“Yeah, bitch. I do. They’re gonna pay. They’re all gonna pay. He’s right. It’s time to make everyone pay.”
“Who’s right?” Mary asked. “I don’t understand any of this.”
Dan snagged her by the hair and dragged her from the barn. He opened the trunk of a dark green Honda and motioned. “In, bitch.”
“I’m claustrophobic. Please. I won’t make trouble, I swear.”
“Mary!”
Her heart seized. No. No. No. No. No. She closed her eyes and willed the voice away. Dan turned her in Logan’s direction as he ran toward them.
“Logan, no! Get back!”
Dan aimed at Logan and fired. She slammed her casted arm against his hand at the last second, praying it was enough to help. Logan tumbled to the ground a few feet away. Blood pooled around his head.
Tears stung her gaze as she was slammed in the side of the head by the gun handle. “Stupid bitch. You never learn.”
Dan shoved her into the trunk and glared a few beats before slamming the weapon on her head one more time. Blackness enveloped her.
“YOU HAVE A LOT OF NERVE.”
Dylan ignored Addy’s statement and secured the glove around his wrist. Someone should’ve stopped her from tracking him down. Hell, his brothers knew better. He’d tried calming himself in the barn earlier, but it hadn’t worked.
She got in his face. “You were out of line.”
“Not your business,” he gritted through clenched teeth.
“Bullshit. I stood there, watched you cut her open. For doing her job.” Addy’s voice thundered through the exercise room. She looked at the punching bag, then smiled. “You feel like a big man now, roaring your rage like a pissed off kid who didn’t get to play where he wanted. Now it’s time to punch it out, feel more like a real man. Fine. Let’s do this.”
Addy grabbed a pair of grappling gloves from the pile they kept on hand. She sneered when she glanced up at him. “What? Never gotten your ass handed to you by a girl? Well, today’s your lucky day.”
“You think you can take me.” He shook his head in disbelief a moment. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”
“You forget who my brother was. I learned to fight to keep breathing after the first few broken bones. Toughen up or check out. That was his motto.” She clenched her fists, testing the fit of the gloves. “I’m a fast learner.”
Dylan’s gut tightened. Rage rolled from the woman when she spoke, but he wasn’t sure whether it was anger at him or something else. “I’m sorry you lost him.”
“Everyone remembers a different Peter. No one knew the same man. You notice that?”
“You did,” he commented.
“You were a lot like him in there, you know. He used to get up in Mary’s face all the time, screaming and yelling when she didn’t let his decision be the move made in the field. He’d storm off, pout. Just like you.” She struck.
A foot landed in his face. He stumbled backward and defended against the next move. The woman was a powerhouse. He set aside everything but the fight.
Fists and legs flew. Strike after strike landed. Sweat poured from them both. Addy took a step back and dragged in labored breaths while Dylan doubled over and willed his gut to stop heaving.
“You’re good,” she commented. “Better than I expected.”
“He trained you well.”
“There wasn’t any training with Peter Rugers. There was defending. Learning. Applying.” Addy grabbed a bottle of water and tossed it to him. “I loved my brother, but he wasn’t a saint. No one as good as him got that way being an angel.”
“What are you implying?”
“Nothing.” She sighed and sat. “Hell, I don’t know. Something about today doesn’t sit right, like I missed something important.”
“What specifically?”
“The amateur hour kidnapping attempts. The one with your sister, then today. Whoever hired those idiots knew you’d take them down easily. So why bother? The first was because someone got uncomfortable. Or so I thought.” Addy took a sip of water. “It doesn’t read right. None of this does.”
“You’re thinking the first attempt wasn’t to get us refocused.”
“It was definitely a smoke screen, but I can’t figure out why, not after the one today. Those idiots in there stood no chance, but someone wanted them here. In this very situation.”
But why? Dylan sat across from Addy and set the anger and rage aside. Someone had played them. “Divide and conquer. Today, what went down, pushed my buttons, the ones that demanded I be the one to protect Mary, those I love.”
“And it pushed hers for the very same reason. It’s her job to protect everyone. She is the job. We’ve said it a thousand times. She was only the job. Until you.” Addy cursed. “Someone’s seen inside enough to know you two were close, exactly how to divide you.”
“And has a better than average ability to read people,” Dylan commented as his mind started putting two and two together. “I’m not liking where this is taking us.”
“Me neither. Let’s go. I want eyes on Mary.”
Conversation died as they sprinted toward containment. Dylan’s pulse quickened. He’d phone Marshall, but the thick metal walls prevented cell phone signals. He tagged Addy by the back of the shirt when she arrived at the door leading to the lower levels.
“You’ve got a code for this sort of thing? At Hive?”
“This exact one? No. But there are a few usable. Wh
y?”
Whoever was pulling the strings read people easily, knew exactly how to come between him and Mary when very few even knew there was a him and Mary. The possibilities were limited, and since most were either blood or had shed theirs to keep him breathing, the conclusion left him nervous. One person fit the bill better than anyone else.
“I’m pretty sure Doctor Parsons is dirty,” he said.
“Which makes your boy Logan dirty, too, since he recommended her,” Addy added.
Fuck. He hadn’t gotten that far. Yeah, he wasn’t trustworthy either.
“One or both are going to be down there, and we need to warn everyone somehow.”
“I’ll get word to Vi.” She yanked her cellphone from her pocket and punched a few buttons.
“Cells won’t work down there, not with the thick walls.”
“This isn’t your average cell. Vi and I are testing a new add-on to HERA. I’d get a signal on Mars, so Vi’s phone will ring.” She held the phone up to her ear. “If Graves is in there, he can help.”
Dylan didn’t want to think about Fallon Graves, how easily Mary trusted him to get the job done when he’d been found lacking. His gut soured, but he ignored the emotion chewing through his insides and headed toward containment.
All eyes swept toward him when he and Addy entered. The woman maneuvered toward Vi without comment and sat. No conversation, no scrawling of notes. Nothing. Yet he noted the tension in the other woman’s shoulders, in the way she typed on the keyboard.
“Doctor Parsons, I know you’re the shrink and can walk them through the interrogation, but I’d like to assume initial control.” Vi’s voice was low, calm. Rational. “That’ll give you the time to assess the situation and make adjustments when the session gets to the critical stage. That’s what Edge and I did.”
“Yes, yes. That’ll work.” The woman sat on the other side of Vi, too close for Dylan to strike and not risk fallout, even with Addy on the other side.
“Graves, this is Quillery. Do you copy?”
“Yeah, we’re ready.” Graves and Sanderson had Driggs in the interrogation area, a chamber with a drain, chains, a chair, and a table. Instruments hung on the walls and spread across the table’s surface, more for show and effect than actual use.
