To Trick a Hacker: Women of Purgatory 3

by India Kells

  Chapter 41

  Warm. She was so warm. And empty. And peaceful. And damn warm. It was as if she was caught in the center of the sun.

  Dylan felt disoriented for a moment, until she breathed in a familiar scent. Owen. Her world steadied again. Opening her eyes, she only saw a wide, muscled, and very familiar chest in her line of vision. In sleep, Owen’s arms had loosened enough, allowing her to look up at his face.

  The sun was setting and the light shimmered over his face, making his skin glow and his beard and hair shine like molten gold. She was back in his arms, back with him. And she didn’t know to what god or goddess of this world she needed to give thanks. Ever so gently, she lifted her arm to run her fingers into the thick pelt, and immediately on contact, Owen’s eyes opened, laser-beam blue eyes blinking twice before settling on her.

  “Hey.”

  She wanted to answer back, but her throat felt raw, making her cough, reminding her of the annoying pain radiating in her side.

  Owen shifted and pushed away from her, going out of her sight for a moment, returning with a glass of water.

  Dylan gulped it down, probably dehydrated from all the tears that fell out of her. When she spoke, her voice was steadier. “Thanks.”

  “It’s only a glass of water.”

  She looked up at him and smiled. “That’s not what I meant and you know it, smartass. Also, for staying here and holding me as I broke apart.”

  Owen sat again and took her now empty glass to set it aside. He put his much larger hand on top of hers. “You never have to thank me for that, Dylan. I love you. I’ll always be there for you. I see you.”

  Dylan gazed up at him and lost herself in the blue, ever-changing shade that was the clue of what he was thinking, feeling. The warrior who opened up to her, who came undone only for her, who loved her. Emotion constricted her heart in the best way; in a manner she never thought she would experience again.

  “I love you too, Owen. And I see you. You’re always the sole man I see. The one I want to reach for, to be with.”

  Her eyes lowered to the hands on the mattress, and she turned hers so she could lace their fingers together. Their skins were so different, same as their sizes. They were such different people, and yet …

  From downstairs, she heard familiar voices and smiled.

  “I think people are waiting for us to come down.”

  Owen smiled. “They can wait.”

  “But I can’t. I need answers now. Help me up.”

  She scouted to the edge of the bed, gingerly holding her side. When she saw the marks on her legs, she checked around for something to cover up, and then decided against it. Downstairs were people she trusted, people she loved, and by now they knew her past, partially or completely. She was done hiding. It wouldn’t be easy, her inner demons would return, roaring their ugly heads, but she would fight back.

  Armed with her newfound courage, Owen hovering by her side, restraining himself from taking her in his arms to carry her downstairs she guessed, Dylan made her way to the voices.

  The group was settled in the living room, with the best view of the sunset she had ever seen. When they noticed them coming down, they all got to their feet in a single unit. Lance and Luke, Beatrice and James, Wesley and Mac, Gabrielle and Sullivan. The inner core, the soul and the very best of Purgatory. Her family.

  Some of them fidgeted, and she even saw Luke eyeing the door. She needed answers and they needed them, too. No way anybody would leave or evade this time.

  “Nobody leaves this room until I have the full story of what happened, and I mean you, too, Luke. I suspect that everybody here has some piece of the puzzle. As I may too. Let’s have a family reunion, shall we?”

  Beatrice’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. She took a step toward Dylan before taking her in her arms. “You are family to me, Dylan, you’re like a daughter.” She took a step back, looking at each of them in the room, lingering a little more on Gabrielle and Mac. Sensing she was struggling with emotions, James came behind his wife and rubbed her shoulders.

  Without a word, the circle of people tightened a little. They were family. They cared, each of them the way they could, by blood, by love, or by friendship.

  Dylan looked at every one of them before leaning a little on Owen, turning to sit on the nearby sofa.

  “Okay, the emotional bit of the episode is over, folks.” Lance clapped in his hands as everybody smiled, taking a seat or sitting on the floor. Owen took place on the armrest beside her and Beatrice sat on the ottoman in front of her.

  Dylan shook her head at Lance. “Does that mean that the sex bits about to begin? Maybe you should start, here and now with Luke.”

  Luke, who had remained silent until now, turned beet red. “What are you talking about?”

  “Come on, Doc. You’re surrounded by secret agents, assassins, hackers, and Navy SEALs, there is nothing we don’t know.”

  Mac leaned against Wesley who naturally circled her shoulders with his arm. “Dylan, Lance probably wants to present him to his mother, officially, before he gets to the nasty.”

  Lance looked so pained, Dylan took pity on him. “Okay, let’s stop harassing Lance even if I have to admit, there is something fun about it. Anyway, I’m certain his brothers will take care of that later. Instead, let’s have a chat about what happened not so long ago, which led me to being stabbed in prison and surviving. A miracle, I guess.”

  Beatrice leaned forward. “Well, if we have to start somewhere, it would have to be with an I-told-you-so, about Morton. I told you he was a nasty piece of shit. So focused on Dogberry, so obsessed to get him, that he would wait for any little bit of intel to get him.”

  “Well, that was graciously offered by Miranda Harold or Knudson, by spewing information about me, about what I was about to do. I have to say, I underestimated Morton. I was so into finding the copycat that a pencil-pusher wasn’t quite on my radar.”

  Beatrice nodded, wincing. “Bad thinking, indeed. When your name popped up like Christmas lights after being arrested by the cops, I knew it was only a matter of time until Morton’s greasy fingers got to you.”

  Gabrielle grimaced at the image. “Morton’s been a weasel from the start. I had trouble with him the moment I took the helm from Beatrice. The more I crossed his path, the more I saw how he only wanted to collaborate with us so I could give him Dogberry on the platter. When he realized it wasn’t going to happen, he turned against the entire organization.”

  “He even tried to get through the Admiral, and since James is now married to Beatrice Dante, that seemed to exacerbate his obsession.” Sully shook his head.

  Wesley leaned forward, a hand linked with Mac. “Dylan, you’ve been in the interrogation room for hours with him, did he … attempt anything?”

  Dylan recognized that guarded expression, and knew what he meant. Wesley was a survivor like her, dealing with a terrible trauma and still in recovery, as she was. “He didn’t touch me, he didn’t inject me with anything or drugged me, and I would have known the signs since I’ve been intoxicated so many times. He tried his best to toy with my mind, but another, more dangerous, psycho has been there first. He wasn’t a threat. Not a main one at least.”

  Owen discreetly put his hand at the base of her spine. He didn’t stroke or caress, only offering steady support. Dylan returned her gaze to Beatrice. “I lost track of my location after a while, because of the many transfers, I saw Morton, and I knew I was in a deep security, probably a shadow facility.”

  It was James who confirmed her suspicions. “We tried to find your location, and when Beatrice and Gabrielle couldn’t find it, I had to revert to my connections. As an Admiral, it opened many doors and after a few days, we could locate you at the Maintenon Center.”

  Dylan whistled, eyes wide. “I’ve heard of that place, it’s where they send high-profile terrorists. I don’t know if I should be flattered or scared. So, you found me obviously, as I saw most of you in that conference room. What I wa
nt to know is if you had a plan, apart from sacrificing yourselves or Purgatory to Morton.”

  Silence stretched for a while, as the team looked at each other. Dylan shook her head, staring at her hands fisted on her lap. “You think I held all Purgatory’s secrets, all the missions, all the data to have you open our vault to that megalomaniac?”

  Beatrice straightened. “I wouldn’t have you sacrificed, Dylan. Not for me, not for any of us. I didn’t save you to spend the rest of your life in a cage!” Shaking, her boss got to her feet and went to stare to the sun now disappeared over the horizon.

  Gabrielle got to her feet and sat in front of Dylan, putting her hands on hers. When she spoke, her voice was low but firm. “Dylan. We have worked together for years without knowing our true names. You have shared our successes, but also our sorrows and our losses. We may not have seen your face, but you were there. In one way or another, you have saved the lives of all the people in this room. And many more Purgatory agents, military men, and civilians. Look me in the face and tell me, in our place, you would have let Bea, or me, rotting in that cell.”

  Deep in the eyes of Gabrielle, she saw the truth. The same loyalty and determination in each one of the men and women in this room. Swallowing several times, when she spoke, it was impossible for Dylan to lie.

  “I would have done anything to save any one of you. All of you. You were my only link to this world. You’re the only family I ever had.”

  Surprised to still have tears left, she pushed herself up and walked slowly toward Beatrice, putting a hand on her shoulder. The older woman turned, and the turmoil she saw in her eyes, made her pause.

  “I’m sorry, Bea. Of course, you would have come for me. As you did before. And as I would have done for you a thousand times.”

  The storm passed, and Beatrice cupped her cheek before kissing her brow. And without another word spoken between them, they understood. Carefully, Beatrice helped her back to the sofa, near Owen’s reach, and the founder of Purgatory returned to the ottoman beside her husband.

  “We were there to make a deal with Morton. Or at least try to see some sort of opening. But we soon discovered that he was past the point of reasoning. James’s plan was to see how sane he was and report him. He had open lines of communications with the Pentagon. It was a recon mission, a wait-and-see. Unfortunately, he knew more about Purgatory than I suspected.”

  Mac shook her head. “And I wonder how he would. Dogberry, Dylan, installed an iron-clad protective shield. How did he get through? And without our knowledge?"

  Dylan nodded at the red-headed sniper. “He didn’t hack our system, but instead surfed behind Miranda. She breached our network and gathered information. When I requested an hour to retrieve the list, all I needed in fact was five minutes. The remaining fifty-five minutes were to make sure all data he might have on all of you was deleted. Erased. And as I didn’t have to hide and be careful, it was fast. Too bad I didn’t have enough time to analyze everything, but it gave me a glimpse of the damages.”

  Lance shook his head. “Well, I’ll be damned. The one to be saved became the savior once more. I have to say I’m not surprised.”

  “Neither am I.” Owen’s deep voice, and obvious admiration, warmed her heart.

  Lance took a step in her direction and crouched before her. “Did you really have the personal email of the president?”

  Dylan couldn’t help but bite her lip to refrain from grinning. “What do you think?”

  For a moment, the Norse god looked at her, deeply, before shaking his head, a smile splitting his face. “I’m so glad you’re on our side, sweetheart. Otherwise, you could really be a threat to the free world as we know it.”

  “It’s obvious she had his email, Lance. Otherwise, how could Morton be demoted so rapidly?” Sully winked playfully at her. “And that’s how we could transfer her to a more accessible facility.”

  “Well, great good it did me, as I got stabbed in the prison yard.”

  Gabrielle winced, an apologetic look on her face. “The stabbing incident is entirely my doing.”

  Dylan wasn’t sure she understood. “Did you want to save me or kill me? Remind me again.”

  “Save you. I contacted previous collaborators of mine. People owing me favors.”

  “You do know that abdomen wounds are the deadliest, right, Gabrielle?”

  The former assassin nodded. “Yes, unless you know what you’re doing. It requires a special skillset to stab someone, but not kill him.”

  Dylan laughed half-heartedly. “I’ll be damned. But I should have remained conscious.”

  For the first time since she came downstairs, Luke coughed a little, lifting his hand as if he was in a classroom. Incredibly adorable. “That I can answer. Once they had the plan set, I gave them a serum, which the blade had to be dipped in. It would slow down your heartbeat and breathing enough so that you appeared dead. We had people on the inside who made you disappear quickly and brought you to me. I stabilized you before settling you here, in Gabrielle’s home.”

  Sully nodded. “Our house is isolated and calm. It will allow you to recover and decide what you want to do.”

  Dylan frowned at Sully’s words before turning to Beatrice. “What do you mean, what I want to do?”

  Beatrice smiled sadly. “Dylan Harris, aka Dogberry, is dead. The papers are written up, the word had spread, and the tombstone is up with your name on it.”

  “I have a tombstone?” It was impossible to keep the surprise out of her tone.

  Lance beamed. “Yeah, my idea. I think it’s genius.”

  Wesley groaned and Mac swatted her brother-in-law on his thigh. “And I still think it’s creepy, Lance.”

  Beatrice spread her hands, stopping all discussions. “All those steps were necessary. Morton might have been taken care of, but the government wouldn’t have stopped searching for Dogberry. And to be honest, Purgatory had to dissociate itself from the hacker.”

  Dylan nodded. “You’re right, it was the logical step to take.”

  “Yes. A painful one, but a necessary one I fear. And Dogberry had to die, so the woman could live.”

  “Thank you, Bea. For everything. All of you. As soon as I’m better, I’ll disappear. I’ll …”

  Owen’s hand tightened on her shoulder and she looked up at him. “That’s not what Beatrice said. She said that you must let go of Dylan, and Dogberry. Forge yourself a new identity.”

  The possibilities made her lightheaded. “I only knew how to be a cop, and then, I only knew how to be a hacker. And I kind of liked being one.”

  Owen cupped the back of her neck, massaging the tense muscles gently. “There are no rules against you returning to that line of work. Any line of work. But when you leave this house, you must have another identity. One of your choosing. And if you have that new person searching for a job in the private sector, I know a place. A good place, where she could find work.”

  Dylan looked back at her boss … well, former boss, and smiled. “Do they offer dental?”

  “You’ll have to ask the new director. I heard she’s an ass-kicker, though.” Bea winked, relaxing an inch.

  Sully snorted. “Oh yeah, I have marks to prove it.”

  Everybody laughed, slowly getting to their feet. Dylan stood up and swayed a little, her entire being tired to the bone.

  As everybody talked around her, laughing, a weird feeling filled her. A feeling of belonging she hadn’t felt in a long time. Not since the Mercy, or the academy, not since she started to work for Beatrice. Owen’s arm came around her hips, steadying her. And for the first time, she accepted it and leaned against him, her arm circling his waist. Owen took a deeper breath and kissed the top of her head.

  The world righted itself, the demons far away, afraid of all those warriors surrounding her, protecting her. She had found love in overcoming hardship. And for the first time in her own death, she found warm and golden hope. Too bad she knew the world too well, a vicious plan always lurking in t
he shadows.

  Chapter 42

  The thought grew in her mind until it couldn’t be denied. Around her people talked and laughed; the Sorenson brothers took charge of Gabrielle’s kitchen, preparing a meal for the entire team, knowing that such gatherings were rare. Lance and Luke sat at the island, talking as Sully made sure not to touch any cooking implements. The Admiral was relaxed, letting his men work, a beer in his hand.

  As testosterone flowed in that part of the house, Dylan joined the women on the terrace overlooking the sea. The night sky was full of stars, and the sea glittered in response, in endless ripples of light. The moon was waning, for once overshadowed by the stars. A premonition maybe, the end of one thing to prepare for a new beginning. Her friends talked around her, until slowly the conversation died off, all eyes on her silent form.