by Cindy Gerard
“Knock yourselves out,” B.J. had said when Crystal had invited her to join them. “I’m behind on my reports.”
“Oh, no.” Crystal wasn’t having any of it. “You need to get out of here for a while, too.”
When B.J. had still balked, Crystal had added, “Don’t make me get Nate involved.”
Apparently Nate had been after B.J. to take some downtime, and the mention of their Boss’s name was enough to break her.
“Fine,” B.J. had grumbled, “but only for a couple of hours. And don’t expect me to buy anything.”
“God forbid you find some sassy lingerie or, gasp,” Crystal had teased with round eyes, “a hot dress to seduce your husband.”
B.J. had just snorted, snagged her purse, and headed toward the door. “Let’s get this over with. But I’m not shopping. And I’m not letting some stranger play with my feet.”
They were an unlikely trio, Val thought as the sun warmed her shoulders. The effect of her second glass of sangria eased the tension that had been her constant companion for days.
Crystal, with her irreverent and quick wit, was a woman Val could truly like and trust. She also liked the stoic and serious B.J. who, at Crystal’s dogged insistence, was now the owner of a pair of killer black stilettos and the siren’s dress and lingerie to go with it—and yes, a new manicure and pedicure. They were bright, capable, and funny women. And they were both packing serious weapons in the hobo bags hooked over the backs of their chairs.
“But you make it work,” Val pointed out in response to Crystal’s tires, testosterone, and trouble remark. After B.J. and Crystal had told Val how they had met and fallen in love with their men, Val didn’t have a doubt that their marriages were bedrock solid.
“Only because my gun is bigger than Rafe’s,” B.J. said.
“Don’t ever let him hear you say that,” Crystal said around a laugh.
“So.” Crystal turned to Val after their waiter delivered a sampler platter of deserts Crystal had insisted they all try. “What’s the story with you and Luke?”
“No story,” Val said quickly. Too quickly, based on the knowing glances Crystal and B.J. exchanged.
Crystal shot her a grin. “Sweetie, the looks between you two could torch a forest.”
Val played with the napkin on her lap. “Look. Luke . . . is amazing. I don’t even want to imagine what would have happened to me if he hadn’t been on that train.”
“But?” Crystal held a forkful of something chocolate and decadent over her plate.
“But I just met him. And even if running for my life weren’t muddying my decision-making process, I have a history of making bad choices about men. I can’t afford to make another one.”
“He’s a good guy,” B.J. said.
“I know that,” Val agreed. “A great guy.”
“We almost lost him,” Crystal said quietly. “Last year. In San Salvador.”
Val nodded. “I know that, too. What?” she asked, when the two women exchanged another quick look.
“He talked to you about it?” B.J. leaned forward, her brows creased with interest. “About getting shot?”
The surprise in both women’s eyes confused her. “Yeah. He did.” And then she got it. “You mean he doesn’t talk about it with any of you?”
Crystal shook her head. “He’s been spooky silent on the subject. We’ve been worried about him. It’s good to know he’s finally letting it out.”
Unspoken was the fact that Crystal thought it was significant that Luke had opened up to Val.
“We’ve been through some pretty intense stuff together.” If she could convince them it wasn’t significant, maybe she could convince herself. “I guess . . . I guess extreme circumstances net extreme reactions. It was probably just time he got it out.”
But what they’d shared last night—in words, in emotions, in the most physically intense and intimate love-making she’d ever experienced—had been profound. And earth-shattering, for both of them.
And completely futile. Because the connection they’d made had broken down barriers neither one of them had been prepared to breach. And because both of them were gun-shy of commitment.
She should be relieved that he’d let her pull away from him this morning—yet she felt bereft and disappointed that he’d simply walked away. More proof of how screwed up she was.
She suddenly realized that her silence had garnered more curious stares.
“For God’s sake, will you two stop with the looks? I don’t deny that I care about Luke. But I can’t get involved with anyone right now, okay? My life is a mess—he doesn’t want to get involved, either.”
Crystal looked at her kindly, then covered Val’s hand with her own. “I hate to break this to you, honey, but you two are already involved.”
Val looked at B.J. and Crystal. B.J. had been a field agent for DIA. Crystal had trained to be a cop, but a slight hearing loss from a childhood illness had kept her from passing the physical. Nothing stopped either one of them from doing what they wanted to do.
They were the kind of women Luke needed in his life. Val wasn’t and never would be. Deep down, she suspected Luke got it, too, which would explain why he was willing to let her shut down and pull away. Any woman who teamed up with him would have to be strong. Much stronger than she was.
Yeah? And whose fault is that?
Suddenly she was tired of shying away from her own shadow. Looking at these strong, capable women made her look back on her own life differently. Because of the trauma of the kidnapping, she’d been coddled and pampered ever since. It had made her dependent, malleable, and naïve.
It was time she fixed that. For most of her life she’d let people use her and think of her as little more than window dressing, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t capable of becoming more. So she’d made bad choices, choices that had led to her believing that she didn’t deserve anything better.
Why not take a shot at becoming more than what people expected? More than she’d expected of herself? She’d risen to the occasion in Peru hadn’t she? She’d been scared, but she’d kept it together. So why not see if she had what it took to become worthy of a man like Luke? Why not fight for what might be the best thing to ever happen to her? Why not take a giant step toward being the strong woman Luke thought she was?
A rush of decisiveness washed over her, and she knew exactly where to start.
B.J. choked on her sangria when she told them what she wanted to do. “Say what?”
“I want you to teach me how to handle a gun.
When both women gave her dubious looks, she explained. “I killed a man in the mountains. If I hadn’t, I’d be dead now instead of him. I shot him because I was scared to death and because I didn’t have any choice.
“I want the option of saying, ‘Don’t make me shoot you,’ and knowing that they’ll understand I’m more than capable of doing it. I need to know how to defend myself to do that.”
“Val,” Crystal said gently, “if someone pulls a gun on you, it’s way past time to talk.”
“Fine,” she said. “Then teach me how to handle a gun because I’m fucking tired of being scared.”
Val’s reprieve from reality came to a jarring end when the entire team met up in the situation room again a couple of hours later.
“Sit down, Val.” Nate Black pulled out a chair for her. His eyes were kind but she could tell by his somber expression that what he had to tell her wasn’t going to be good. “You’re a part of this, so I want you to sit in on the briefing.”
“Joe came through?” B.J. asked.
“In spades,” Nate said with a grim look.
Crystal and B.J. each took a seat on either side of Val. She appreciated their show of support. Squaring her shoulders, she braced to take the bad news.
“While Senator Chamberlin was initially reluctant to talk, when Joe convinced him that your life was on the line, he became much more forthcoming.
“There’s no easy way to say this,
” Nate went on, “so I’m just going to lay it out. Several years ago, shortly after Chamberlin was appointed head of the arms committee, he made a trip to South Korea for an international summit on the growing illicit arms problem and its impact on terrorism. While he was in Seoul, Ryang Wong Jeong made arrangements with a South Korean asset to set up a sting involving the senator.” He stopped and glanced at Luke.
His jaw hard, Luke looked Val in the eye. “The man lured Chamberlin into a highly compromising situation involving an underage male prostitution ring. Then he had the episode videotaped.”
Her vision blurred. Underage male prostitution ring. Videotape.
Oh, God.
“Shortly after that, Ryang started leaning on Chamberlin,” Black went on, “using the threat of going public with the tape. At first, all he asked for were innocuous bits of information, but over time his requests escalated. As Ryang’s status with Kim Jong-il grew, so did his appetite for more power. He dragged Chamberlin in even deeper with his demands for inside information.
“Ryang’s network was growing and he needed someplace to set up shop instead of scattering his inventory all over the globe.” Nate ticked off his next point on his fingers. “Someplace where the government was weak, corruptible, and the country was in chaos. Someplace where al-Qaeda and their splinter groups could funnel in a shitload of money to keep things stirred up and take some of the heat and focus off them.”
He looked straight at Val. “He found an easy answer, in Sierra Leone.”
It took a moment for the information to jell. And when it finally did, when the implications became clear, she didn’t know if she could stand to hear the rest of this.
“The aid deliveries you’ve been making to Sierra Leone? They’re a front to help Ryang smuggle in huge shipments of illegal arms.” Empathy filled his eyes.
Her hands trembled. “Marcus . . . Marcus told you all of this?”
He nodded.
“I don’t understand.” A wild desperation kept denial burning. “I . . . I was part of every delivery. I was there when they opened the boxes. I helped pass out food . . . medical supplies . . . tools . . . schoolbooks. I didn’t see any guns.”
“No one did, because they were all busy looking at you.” Gabe Jones added his voice to the mix. “You were the perfect beard for the operation. Your celebrity? Your looks? Think about it. The paparazzi swarmed all over you on those trips. You couldn’t take a step without tripping over a reporter with a camera. Like Angelina Jolie’s visits to Darfur, you were the story in Sierra Leone. You were the diversion.”
Gabe was right. By design, each trip has been a media frenzy.
“Oh, God. And I just blindly agreed with it. My celebrity was supposed to bring attention to the cause.” Her heart sank as she accepted that she’d played a part in hurting the very people she was trying to help.
“Then add Chamberlin into the mix,” Rafe said, “A popular U.S. senator endorsing the missions, greasing palms, and ensuring that the inspections were fudged, and it’s foolproof. No one was looking for smuggled guns. Who was going to question a senator from the country leading the fight against global terrorism?”
“So, that’s why they needed me,” she said hollowly. “A pretty diversion.” She’d been so proud. For once, her face was doing something for the greater good instead of for commercial gain.
“It doesn’t end there.” Nate’s voice warned her that the worst was yet to come. “You were more than a diversion. You were Ryang’s signal to his end buyers that he’d come through on his promise.”
“I don’t understand.”
Nate glanced at Luke. “You want to take this?”
“The buyer wants proof that he’s not going to take heat on his end,” Luke explained. “Ryang gives him you. The buyer sees your face all over the TV, sees you on the ground in Freetown—that’s Ryang’s signal that not only have the goods arrived, the coast is clear.”
“That’s why Ryang was after you in Peru,” Nate said, filling in the blanks. “You’ve got another aid mission coming up, right?”
She nodded, fighting light-headedness. “Next week. I was heading back to the States when the train was attacked. I wanted to be back in time to make the trip.”
“Only Ryang didn’t know that,” Luke said. “You’d dropped out of sight. Marcus hadn’t been able to deliver you. Since this next arms shipment—apparently the biggest one yet—is tied to you being there, Ryang had to find you. His buyer was going to back out if you didn’t show. He not only stood to lose money, but risked total disruption of his operation.”
“And, worse, he would lose face with Kim Jong-il,” Gabe added. “The equivalent of signing his own death warrant.”
“So,” she said slowly, working through the disbelief and horror, “it would be best if I don’t go. Is that what you’re saying? Then Ryang loses, right?”
The room rang with a deathly stillness. She glanced at Luke, wondering why everyone wasn’t agreeing with her. He looked ready to spit nails.
“We need you to accompany that shipment, Val,” Nate said. “We’ve been on Ryang’s trail for years. He’s sneaky and elusive, and except for one op when we got lucky and confiscated a small shipment of arms in Panama last year, he always manages to slip past our net. This is the closest we’ve ever gotten to nailing him.
“Now, thanks to Chamberlin, we know Ryang’s MO. We know where the shipment is going to make port, and we know the delivery method. The only thing we don’t know is who the buyers are. With your help we can not only divert the shipment, we can nail his end users and cut off Ryang’s major pipeline.”
“And if it happens that the rumors are true, that remnants of the RUF are regrouping for another attempted coup, we can also settle an old score,” Gabe said quietly.
The girls had told Val today how one of their own, Bryan Tompkins, had died in an ambush in Sierra Leone.
They all had a personal interest in returning to Sierra Leone. They’d lost a brother in arms there, and they’d never stopped wishing they could go back and find the murderous RUF who had killed Bryan.
So she understood why Gabe saw this trip to Sierra Leone as an opportunity to settle up.
“I don’t want Val in the mix,” Luke challenged his boss, bringing her back to the conversation.
“That makes two of us, but we’ve been over this. Without Val,” Nate said, “we’re dead in the water. Sure, we can cut off the shipment. But we lose our best and possibly only chance to nail the buyers on the receiving end.”
“There’s got to be another way.” Luke stood so abruptly, his chair clattered to the floor. He planted his palms on the table and glared at Nate. “It’s too dangerous. We can’t take the chance of her getting caught in the crossfire if things go south.”
The two men glared at each other, Luke with fire in his eyes, Nate with a cold, calm authority that warned Luke to stand down.
They could argue all they wanted.
Val understood what had to be done.
24
“I’m going,” Val said.
Luke whipped his head around and glared at her. “No, you are not,” he snapped before facing off with his boss again. “She is not going.”
Heart pounding, Val held her ground. “Inadvertently or not, I played a part in making this mess. I need to play a part in fixing it.”
Luke’s hard eyes lasered back to hers. “You don’t know what you’re signing on for.”
“And that’s news?” she fired back. “Apparently I’ve been in the dark for years. He used me, Luke. Every-one’s used me. Marcus, Ryang, and God knows who else. And innocent people, the people I thought I was helping, could be hurt because of it.”
She was so angry, she was shaking. “No more. If I’m going to be used, then let it be to stop these bastards.”
Filled with a determination fueled by both purpose and humiliation, she turned to Nate. “I’m all yours. They want Valentina showing a little leg? A lot of cleavage? They’ve got
her.”
Nate gave her a measuring look, then an approving nod. Beside her, Luke simmered with anger, but said nothing as Nate continued.
“The delivery, complete with the dog-and-pony show the press will stage all on their own, is set for four days from now. We’ve got very little planning time, major flight time, and zero time to run this up the flagpole and wade through miles of bureaucratic red tape to get the blessing from the powers that be. So, we’re on our own on this one.”
Crystal leaned over and whispered in Val’s ear. “What Nate’s saying is that we don’t have time to turn this info over to U.S. authorities. They won’t be able to okay an op on foreign soil without an executive order, and since this is Sierra Leone, that’s not going to happen with UN watchdogs monitoring every move. So it’s better we act now and answer questions later. With luck, we’ll establish a permanent roadblock in Ryang’s arms pipeline.”
“Tink.”
Crystal returned her full attention to Nate.
“Get hold of Ann Tompkins at DOJ. See if she’s heard any scuttlebutt about Chamberlin, just in case there’s something else she can add to the mix. We’re also going to want someone on the Hill to know what we’re up to, in case the mission goes FUBAR. Ann’s our best option.”
Ann Tompkins was Bryan Tompkins’s mother. B.J. and Crystal had told Val how Ann and Robert Tompkins had opened up their home to the guys after losing Bryan. How they all thought of the Tompkinses as extended family—even how Ann had played a part in Crystal’s rescue from an Indonesian crime lord after he’d abducted her and held her prisoner in Jakarta.
“In the meantime, what about Chamberlin?” Gabe asked, bringing Val back to the immediate dilemma.
“Joe’s got him contained. He’s not going anywhere and he’s not talking to anyone until this is over.
“He doesn’t want you hurt, Val,” Nate said. “He’s made that clear. He’ll cooperate with whatever we ask him to do.”
As consolations went, it was a small one.
And as anger went, she realized, turning her attention back to a darkly brooding Luke, his was as big as a house.
