Agent I1: Tristan [01] The D.I.R.E. Agency

by Joni Hahn

  Mitchell ignored the question. “You’re better off. I’ve told you that since you were a boy.”

  “Boy?” Aidan said.

  “Mitchell is your father?” Rachel glanced back and forth between them, her eyes wide.

  Tristan knew he didn’t have to answer. He looked just like Mitchell.

  “He kept that a secret from you, too?” Mitchell uttered the question with obvious spiteful intent.

  Tristan slumped his shoulders. Hell, he shouldn’t be surprised his own father would betray him. It had always been about the agency, never the family, or lack thereof.

  Aidan, on the other hand, had shocked him. He never would’ve expected it. Then again, Aidan hadn’t expected Tristan to sleep with Rachel, either.

  “I’ve never told anyone who you are, Dad.”

  Rachel stomped to the front door. “That’s it. All three of you get out of my house.” She opened the door. “Go. I don’t want to see any of you.”

  “Rachel,” Tristan said, “I won’t leave you vulnerable.”

  Shaking her head, she wouldn’t meet his eyes. “You already have, Tristan.”

  His stomach clenched with the force of her blow. Mitchell and Aidan watched in silence as Tristan absorbed the impact of her words and bled out their truth.

  Rachel was right. All he had done was bring danger and chaos to her life. He’d brought down Cody and Dar on her head with no more than a few drops of Rohypnol and some pizza.

  Aidan said, “Get out of here, Jacobs. She doesn’t need you anymore.”

  She had always been better off without him.

  Grabbing a Staind t-shirt from his backpack on the bar stool, Tristan pulled it on over his athletic shorts. Throwing the pack over his shoulder, he stood poised to teleport.

  “Aidan, Dar Naylor tried to take her from Vinnie’s parking lot last night.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rachel’s head pop up.

  “What the hell did you just say?” Aidan’s voice held a menacing tinge.

  Tristan ignored him. “You’d better protect her or I’ll freaking kill you. Do you understand me?”

  “Look, you son-“

  Mitchell stopped Aidan with a hand on his chest.

  “He knows she’s important,” Tristan said. “Mitchell, you need to get her to D.I.R.E. HQ. That’s the only place she’ll be safe until we stop him.”

  Nodding, Mitchell punched a message into his phone. “I’m on it.”

  “No.” Rachel rubbed at the worry lines in her forehead. “All of you think you can just tell me where to go and what to do like some… puppet. You can all go to hell.” She pointed outside. “Get out.”

  “One freaking scrape,” Tristan pointed at Aidan, “and I’ll find you – D.I.R.E. agent or not.”

  He hit his armband to teleport. Dizziness bombarded him, causing him to sway. His system remained silent.

  Shit. Not now…

  Mitchell walked over and grabbed his arm. “Are you okay? What’s the problem?”

  Shaking his head to clear it, Tristan tried his system again. Vertigo struck him instantly. He rocked where he stood before Mitchell righted him.

  “I guess Monroe overloaded my generator when he grabbed me.”

  Mitchell frowned as he picked up Tristan’s arm and studied the band.

  Snatching away his arm, he headed for the door. “Either way, I’m screwed.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rachel’s gaze follow him out the door.

  “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Mitchell said.

  “Anywhere but here.”

  Chapter 13

  Rachel watched Aidan and Mitchell talk in her front yard. Two dark SUVs were parked at her mailbox, two agents standing outside each of them. Would this be her life from here on out?

  And her brother. Why had he allowed them to do whatever they did to him? Would she never hug him again? What would this do to his body?

  Damn Mitchell Jacobs and The D.I.R.E. Agency.

  She turned away from the front window and faced her house. The silence rang loud in her head, the emptiness methodically grinding a black hole in her heart.

  He was gone.

  Dropping down on the sofa, Rachel stared at Tristan’s discarded baseball shirt on the floor. Tears filled her eyes. What had she done? Drugging Cody had been disgraceful, yes, but Tristan had saved her from a horrible, loveless marriage… and brought her a happiness she never thought she’d find.

  Tristan had managed to bring her passionate side to the surface whether they argued, laughed, or made love. He gave her a self-confidence she’d never felt before, a sense of safety like no other.

  You, Rachel, are worth dying for.

  How could she have allowed Aidan and Mitchell to come here and destroy what she and Tristan had built in so short a time? How could she betray Tristan like that when he’d stood by her through the church debacle, Cody’s tirades, and babysitting?

  Leaning forward, she buried her face in her hands. He lived such a lonely life. Even his own father treated him like an employee, rather than a son. If anyone deserved love, it was Tristan.

  What have I done?

  Standing, Rachel went into the bedroom to get her purse. Eying her gun on the dresser, she saw Tristan’s phone lying beside it.

  Darn, he’d given it to her when Aidan first pounded on the door. Now, she couldn’t call him.

  She had to find him. One way or another, she had to get back Tristan.

  Knowing Dar Naylor was still a possibility, she placed the gun and Tristan’s phone inside her purse. Slipping on her sandals, she tossed the purse over her shoulder. Mitchell and Aidan turned when she came through the front door and down the steps.

  “Tristan left his phone here. I’m going to find him.”

  Aidan gave her a ferocious frown. “Like hell you are…”

  She planted her hands on hips. “I’m done with you and your caveman attitude, Aidan.”

  Mitchell crossed his arms over his chest. “Rachel, you and Tristan are better off apart.”

  Rachel gritted her teeth. This man really irritated her. She’d had it up to her eyeballs with his don’t-care-about-anyone outlook.

  Rising up on her tiptoes, she got in his face and pointed a finger in his chest. “You’re wrong, Mitchell. Tris and I are inifinitely better together than we could ever be apart.”

  His stoic expression never changed. “You’re making him vulnerable.”

  A stab of guilt clenched her stomach. She’d used those same words on Tristan before he left. “No, you made him vulnerable when you started training him for this kind of work as a kid.” She dropped back on her feet. “I’m going to look for him.”

  Aidan gave an exasperated sigh. “I’m going with you.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Rachel, I won’t take any chances with Dar Naylor in town.”

  “Why?” She gave him a haughty brow. “Afraid Tristan will kick your ass if something happens to me?”

  She turned and walked to her old rattletrap truck.

  “Rachel, I’m warning you. Don’t get in that truck.”

  Try and stop me.

  Jumping into her truck, she started the engine. Growling, Aidan ran toward her.

  Come on Bessie, don’t fail me now.

  Shoving the truck in reverse, she punched down on the accelerator. Hitting the street, she slammed on the brakes then threw it into drive. She peeled away right before Aidan reached the back fender.

  Taking off down the street, she heard a D.I.R.E. vehicle start up. Her truck may not have the speed of their shiny new vehicle, but Bessie did have attitude. She didn’t mind roughing them up a bit, if need be.

  She drove to the baseball field. Knowing Tristan, he’d walk until he found a batting cage.

  No sign of him.

  Maybe he skipped town. You gave him plenty of reasons to leave.

  Turning around, she headed down Highway 298. If she were him, she’d leave Creekmore in a hear
tbeat. No sense in sticking around where you weren’t wanted, right? She’d learned that lesson the hard way after she caught Zach with the twins.

  However, Tristan was wanted, more than life itself. She had to find him and make that abundantly clear.

  A mile out of town, Rachel heard two loud pops. She jumped in her seat. Glancing in her rearview mirror, she saw the D.I.R.E. SUV swerve off the road. Her heart took off at a dead run, her stomach flooding with dread.

  Don’t panic, Rachel. Maybe they just had a blowout.

  Doing a u-turn in the middle of the highway, she headed back in the direction she’d come. Tristan would ream her out for doing so, but her nurse’s training forced her to go back and check on them.

  When she came parallel to the vehicle sitting grill down in a ditch, she saw the driver slumped forward in his seat. Fear gripped her chest. Her hands shook as she pulled up behind the vehicle and dialed Aidan’s number.

  Climbing out of her truck, she ran to the driver’s door. Both agents had collapsed in their seats, bullet holes in their temples.

  Oh God, help her…

  Aidan answered. “Rachel, did you find him?”

  Her voice shook despite her attempt to remain calm. She had trouble holding the phone still.

  “Aidan… they… they’ve been shot.”

  “Calm down, Rach. Who’s been shot? Tristan?”

  Dear God, no.

  “The agents that followed me. Someone shot them.”

  “I’m already en route. Where are you?”

  “About a mile-“

  The phone was snatched from her hand. Whipping around, she caught a glimpse of Dar Naylor before a blindfold covered her eyes and the smell of chloroform filled her nose.

  #####

  Tristan laid down another losing hand on Ben’s table. The old card shark had slaughtered him in poker again. Just par for the course today.

  “So, she kicked you out, huh?” Ben gathered the cards in the middle of the table and shuffled them.

  Tristan didn’t want to talk about it. He just wanted to forget. Now he knew why Mitchell had told him not to care. The pain he felt at losing Rachel was worse than any injury he’d sustained in his entire, f’d up life.

  The old man laid the deck of cards on the table for Tristan to cut. “Probably the first time you ever did what you were told in your life, right?”

  He glared at Ben. “Would you stay where you weren’t wanted?”

  Ben shook his head. “No, but you and I both know that’s not the truth, don’t we?”

  His gaze shot to Ben’s wrinkled face. “If you’ve got something to say, old man, say it.”

  Ben dealt the cards between them. “You come off as this big, bad top-secret mercenary with your fancy weapons and martial arts. But you let a sweet, innocent woman like Rachel Monroe tell you what to do.” Ben tsked. “If you’re going to get anywhere in life and marriage, you have to know when to let her make the decisions and when to tell her how it’s going to be.” Stopping his movements, he leaned across the table. “Today, son, was one of those ‘tell her how it’s going to be’ situations.”

  Tristan sat up in his chair. He felt like Ben had smacked him on the forehead. The old man was right. Why had he allowed her to tell him what to do? Why had he allowed her, Mitchell and Aidan to dictate his life?

  Rachel had been furious with him and Aidan for trying to control her life yet, he’d allowed her to do the same with their relationship.

  Since when did he bow to anyone?

  She had his heart and he wanted her to be happy. If his leaving made her happy, he wanted that for her.

  I want to be wherever you are, Tristan.

  Her voice echoed in his head. Just this morning, Rachel had said those words right before they made love on the sofa. Why couldn’t he get it through his thick skull that she really did care about him?

  Shutting his eyes, he shook his head. She didn’t want him out of her life permanently. She was just pissed and frankly, he didn’t blame her.

  Hell, he didn’t know the first thing about relationships but he did know one thing: he couldn’t live without her.

  Standing, he looked down at Ben. The old man gave him a big grin. In that moment, Tristan realized that Ben had acted more like a father to him this week than Mitchell ever had. He could talk to Ben about anything and he’d give Tristan a straight, honest answer.

  Hell, he’d come running here first after Rachel had thrown him out. Ben felt comfortable, easy, despite his abrupt manner.

  He was a good man.

  Tristan held out his hand for a shake. “Thanks, Ben.”

  He took Tristan’s hand in a firm grasp. “Don’t screw it up. You’ll spend the rest of your life in some dive, drowning your sorrows with Frederickson.”

  Tristan laughed as he dug around in his backpack for his phone.

  Shit, he’d given it to Rachel.

  “Can I use your phone?”

  Ben nodded as he pointed to his nightstand. “Speed dial number one. Just call me Cupid.”

  Grinning, Tristan hit the button and waited. Her phone went to voicemail. She must be really upset to ignore Ben’s call. The thought sobered him.

  Dialing Mitchell, he said, “Are you still at Rachel’s house?”

  “Where the hell are you?”

  A barbell dropped in Tristan’s stomach. Mitchell didn’t raise his voice - ever. He raised it now.

  “What happened?”

  “Aidan got a text from Rachel’s phone. Robert Naylor is holding her in an empty operating room at the hospital.”

  Tristan’s heart stopped in his chest. “This had better be a freaking joke, Mitchell.”

  “Smith and Underwood are dead.”

  Tristan gave a loud, succinct curse. Ben whipped around to stare at him.

  “I’ve only been gone an hour.”

  Dammit, he should have stayed. Ben was right. If she died, it would be his fault.

  “We’re setting up in an empty ICU unit on the fourth floor. Meet us there.”

  Hanging up, Tristan grabbed his backpack and ran for Ben’s door. “They have Rachel, Ben. I have to go.”

  Tristan ran across the walkway that divided the two facilities. Damn Aidan for shorting out his generator.

  Running through the lobby, Tristan saw State Troopers posted at the front door, agents scattered throughout. He just didn’t know if they were D.I.R.E. or Naylor.

  Rushing up the stairs, he took them two at a time. Bursting through the stair door, two D.I.R.E. officers pulled their guns. He held up his armband.

  Nodding, they pointed down the hall.

  Tristan slammed back the door against the hinges. Aidan and two agents stood against a white tile wall. Mitchell sat at a long rectangular table with… Kate Monroe?

  Grabbing Aidan by the shirt, Tristan hauled him up and shoved him against the wall. “You sonovabitch, I told you I’d kill you.”

  Mitchell and Kate both jumped to their feet.

  “Tristan, stop,” Mitchell ordered.

  “Stop!” Kate cried.

  The two agents moved behind Tristan but didn’t touch him. At least someone in the room used their brains.

  Aidan just stared at him, his voice low. “Kill me? I could’ve killed you just by allowing you to touch me, Jacobs.”

  Letting him go, Tristan watched Monroe drop to the floor without retaliation. “You miserable bastard. You were supposed to watch her. She’s your sister, dammit.”

  Standing, Aidan tossed Tristan’s phone on the table. “You left your phone at her house. We found it in her truck. She went to find you, Jacobs. I was the last person she wanted with her.”

  Guilt paralyzed Tristan. She went to find him? She had left her house, knowing the danger?

  God, no.

  “Tristan, sit down,” Mitchell boomed. “We need to have a plan.”

  “Sit down, my ass. Give me a gun. I’m going in.”

  “Mitchell,” Kate said, when she sat back down. �
��What’s happened to Rachel? Why’d you have me flown in from Austin this morning?”

  This morning? Tristan glanced at Aidan. He shook his head.

  “What do you mean this morning?” Tristan said. “This transpired less than an hour ago.”

  Mitchell looked up at him, his gaze direct. “Actually, this has been transpiring for days.”

  Tristan pulled back his head. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Mitchell pulled out a chair at the table and pointed at it. “Tristan sit. You too, Monroe.”

  How could he sit when Rachel was in Naylor’s clutches?

  Okay, Jacobs. Calm down. You’ll do Rachel no good going in there like a wild banshee. You know you need a plan.

  Aidan dropped down in a chair.

  Tristan paced the room. “You have two minutes.”

  Shaking his head, Mitchell took Kate’s hand in his. “Kate…”

  Aidan’s eyes widened at the contact. He looked ready to blow a gasket. “Do you two know each other?”

  Kate looked at her son, her gaze nonchalant. “I’ve known Mitchell since before Rachel was born. He and your father were good friends.”

  What? He and Aidan exchanged an incredulous stare. “Later.” Mitchell’s voice was laced with irritation. “Kate, Bobby is holding Rachel in an empty OR on the third floor.”

  The color drained from Kate’s face as Mitchell squeezed her hand.

  “Bobby?” Tristan and Aidan cried in unison.

  Frowning up at them, Mitchell continued. “He wants Tristan, Kate, and Bobby knows the only way to get to him is through Rachel.”

  Kate glanced at him, her eyes round with worry. “Why?”

  “Rachel has… come to mean something to my son. Bobby capitalized on it.”

  Aidan planted his hands on the table. “Who the hell is Bobby? Are you talking about Naylor?”

  Mitchell nodded once.

  What the hell?... “Are you saying you know him, too?” Tristan glanced between his father and Kate.

  “Yes. I’ll explain it all later,” Mitchell said.

  “I want to go in.” Kate green eyes were forest in color, her hands shaking.

  Aidan jumped up, his chair falling back against the floor. “Are you freaking crazy? Hell no.”

  “Sit down, Monroe.” Mitchell turned to Kate. “I can’t let you do that.”