by Misty Evans
Inside the room, Thomas snickered. “Join the crowd.”
“And you are?”
“I’m her husband’s Senior Chief, Justin Lugmeyer.”
“Cooper Harris. I’m her boss.”
They shook and Cooper motioned the man inside. “What’s your business with Agent Marx?”
“I believe she’s kidnapped my platoon leader, Cal Reese.”
This time, Thomas laughed out loud. “Bianca kidnapped Reese? What alternate reality do you live in?”
The senior chief didn’t look amused and Cooper once again wanted to smack Thomas upside the head.
Lugmeyer did a quick inventory of all of them, returning his cool gaze to Cooper. “Do you know where Agent Marx is? Reese missed a very important military hearing this morning, and I believe she’s the only person who would keep him from showing up. It’s imperative I find him.”
The guy was a no-nonsense SEAL unit chief. Cooper respected that, but this guy sent alarms ringing in his head. Every time he mentioned Bianca, he acted like he’d swallowed a lemon.
“Bianca didn’t kidnap your man. We believe, if anything, the situation is reverse, that Cal Reese may have taken her against her will.”
The chief studied Cooper for a minute, seeming to consider the scenario. “I’m aware of what happened at the marina yesterday. I’m not at liberty to discuss Reese’s current state of service with the Navy, but I will share with you that he’s been diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder after his last field mission went south. He’s…” The guy paused, rubbed a thumb over the brim of his hat. “He’s unstable.”
The hope Cooper felt a minute ago evaporated. “Unstable enough to kidnap his own wife and disappear?”
The man said nothing, didn’t even nod. His lack of an answer was enough.
“I don’t involve myself with my men’s personal problems, but Reese and I go back a ways. Agent Marx recently filed for divorce and I believe that’s what messed him up on his last mission.” Lugmeyer glanced out the window and stated without emotion. “He refused psychiatric help, and regardless of what’s going on, he’s a SEAL under great emotional stress who’s suffering from PTSD. That’s a dangerous cocktail.”
Exactly what Cooper feared. He started to grab Bobby’s tablet and show Lugmeyer the photos and tell him what they knew about Reese and Bianca’s whereabouts, but something held him back.
As far as he could tell, Bianca hadn’t been harmed. She’d said there was a man after her, but never mentioned it was her soon-to-be-ex. Seemed kinda key to the whole thing.
“How’d you know where to find us?” Nelson asked, still slouched casually in his chair. Only, his eyes were sharp on Lugmeyer’s back. Watching, assessing.
So Nelson felt it too.
Ronni’s phone pinged.
The chief turned from the window. “Bianca talked about the taskforce the last time we spoke. She mentioned how much she loves it here. She told me this was your HQ.”
Cooper stiffened. Bianca hated it here. She’d never said as much, but he knew from her body language and from what she didn’t say that she knew working with the taskforce was a step down for her. A demotion. And while their meeting location wasn’t top secret, none of the taskforce members talked about their jobs or this place with anyone outside of the team. Their undercover ops were top secret and no one but them and Dupé needed to know where they met to discuss missions.
Ronni had received a text, but at the mention of Reese being dangerous and Bianca supposedly telling Lugmeyer about their meeting place, she’d glanced up from reading it. Her eyes sent Cooper a clear message. She didn’t buy Lugmeyer’s story either. “Why would Bianca go with Cal if she knew he was dangerous?”
The chief gave a stiff shrug. “Maybe she doesn’t realize he is. Or maybe she does and thinks she’s saving him from a court-martial. Doesn’t matter. If she’s assisting him in going AWOL, she’s in effect conspiring against the United States Navy. I will bring charges against her.”
Cooper didn’t know Cal Reese, and he certainly didn’t trust him, but he didn’t trust Cal’s senior chief either. There was something more going on here. Something Lugmeyer wasn’t telling him.
Or maybe the guy really didn’t know any more than Cooper did. Either way, the one person Cooper did know was Bianca. They weren’t close friends, but she’d been with his team long enough for him to get a read on her. Outside of discovering she was investigating Dupé on the side—which meant she was doing her assigned job—he believed she was trustworthy.
Ronni gave Cooper another look. She was tapping one long finger against her phone as she handed it to Bobby, showing him the message.
Cooper stepped in front of the SEAL and made no bones about hustling him back to the door. “If we learn anything of value, we’ll be in touch.”
Lugmeyer resisted for half a second, then relented, stepping across the threshold. “Cal Reese was once a hero. Now he needs to set the record straight. He can’t run from the United States Navy.”
The chief stopped and faced Cooper as he set his hat on his head. “If your agent is involved in Reese going AWOL, you can be sure I’ll find her and bring her to justice as well.”
Cooper put his hands on either side of the doorframe and leaned forward, getting in Lugmeyer’s face. “You let me handle my agent.”
The senior chief held his stare for a moment and Cooper let all kinds of threats run through his head. Threats he couldn’t say out loud to a military man without breaking a few written laws, along with his own personal code of conduct. But Lugmeyer understood the body language and the glare. He turned on his heel and marched away.
Cooper drew a satisfying breath, and with renewed determination, he closed the door and faced his team. Ronni and Bobby were staring at him with grins on their faces. Grins? Not what he was expecting. “What?”
Ronni pointed at her phone. “Bianca’s okay. She texted me. No details, but she said she’ll explain everything once she has the proof she needs.”
“About what?”
Bobby snapped his fingers as if the idea light bulb had gone off over his head. “Reese’s last mission. I went through her laptop. Not much there, but I was able to find some of the searches she was doing. She had notes and a timeline on the mission. That must be why she went to see him.”
Thomas rubbed his bottom lip with his thumb. “So Lugmeyer may be right. If Reese is being court-martialed, something definitely went wrong with that mission, and Bianca may well have helped him go AWOL until they find proof it wasn’t his fault.”
Nelson sat up, all traces of casual gone. “I don’t trust Lughead. He’s up to something.”
It was normal for Cooper’s team to be suspicious. In this case, he was one hundred percent right there with them. “Follow him. See where he goes.”
“You got it.” Nelson rose.
“Want me to go with him?” Thomas asked.
Cooper shook his head. “This is not official, Cruz. Just keep an eye on him. See if he shows his cards. Anything suspicious, text me. Meanwhile, Bobby can do some digging on his background.”
Nelson left and Bobby spoke after the door shut. “Reese and his team were going after Otto Grimes. Three of the SEALs were killed. The Navy claims Reese was negligent.”
“Grimes?” Cooper said. “The terrorist President Norman is having YouTube wars with?”
“The one and only.”
Ronni’s phone buzzed and she and Bobby both reached for it. “Another text,” she said slapping Bobby’s hand away. “ʻTell Cooper something big is going down at McConnell Place, Chicago, tomorrow night. Campaign stop. Don’t know what.’”
“Give me that.” Cooper reached out and took the phone. Typed back. “Tell him yourself. I’m right here. Call me.”
He tapped his thumb against the side of the phone, waiting, waiting, waiting…
Nothing came back. No text. No call.
Dammit.
He glanced at Bobby. “Any way you can tr
ack where these messages came from?”
“Already tried. The number is blocked.”
Big surprise. Cooper handed Ronni the phone and pulled out his. As he stewed, he dialed Victor Dupé’s direct line.
“I’ve got a lead on her,” he said without preamble when his boss answered. “I need your helicopter on the pad and ready to go in thirty minutes.”
“Done,” Dupé said. His voice was quiet. “Go get her and bring our agent home.”
Done, Cooper’s mind echoed. Whether Bianca liked being a member of the taskforce or not, she was part of his taskforce, and there was no way the Beast was letting anything happen to her.
Chapter Twenty-two
They’d left I-5 several miles back, drove northwest on county roads, crossed a river, and were now at the Life Is But A Dream winery and retreat in a large, sweeping valley carved out in the Ice Age by giant glaciers.
The sign at the gate stated the winery had once been a Spanish monastery, and looking at the gothic arches, stained-glass windows, and ancient stone walls of all the buildings, they weren’t kidding.
The SUVs drove through the wrought iron gates and followed a road that wound its way past a wooded area. They passed a lake where cattails and some kind of wild flower grew in luscious abandon. Maggie pressed her nose against the window and panted, the dog seeming to wish she could get out and run free.
Bianca knew the feeling. She was tired of riding. A wooden sign by a fork in the road claimed that to the left was forty acres of grapes and to the right was Prosperity, the wine production and tasting building. The driver turned right.
Prosperity was another Spanish gothic building, this one more open and attractive, reminding Bianca of architecture of Spain and Italy. Flowers and bushes adorned the portico where matching arches of sun made a pattern on the stone walkway. The entrance was back ten feet and nestled on each side of the double wooden doors were what appeared to be stone fairies with grape vines wound in their hair.
Sergeant Warwick drove the SUV around back and when it came to a stop, Bianca was hustled out by Buckcherry and Death Punch, the code names of her bodyguards. They guided her into a smaller and less grand private entrance in the shade of the building.
Bianca wasn’t allowed to know her bodyguards real names. For security purposes, they’d told her. Each man, outside of Warwick, went only by the name of a hard rock band.
Maggie ran around, sniffing and wagging, and did a quick pee under a nearby pinyon tree. As Bianca passed through the thick door, she cast a glance over her shoulder and saw Cal and his guards, Soundgarden and Alice in Chains, bringing up the rear. Maggie rushed to greet Cal and he bent down and gave her ears a scratch.
All through the drive Bianca had anticipated Cal’s SUV peeling off and heading somewhere else, leaving her with Buck and Death and a seedy hotel room. When they all arrived here together, she wondered if maybe her speech at the cabin had done some good. Cal had seen the logic of keeping her with him, rather than sending her off to who-knew-where in an attempt to keep her safe, while he took on Halston and whoever else was behind this disaster.
Right. And she was Beyoncé. Dream on, Bianca.
Buck and Death led her down a hallway, through an office, and to a hidden door behind a bookshelf. The moment it opened, Bianca smelled food—bacon, pancakes, and coffee—and her stomach growled. Steps led down to a circular room partially underground with stone walls, a dining table that could seat at least twenty, and tall, slender windows adorned with wrought iron scrolls. Two men dressed in the same black attire and armed with semiautomatic weapons stood in the corners. A silent greeting passed between them, Buck, and Death.
Along one wall was a fireplace. The opposite wall had several rolling carts lined up under the windows and topped with stainless steel warming pans, a bowl of cut fresh fruit, and carafes of coffee, water, milk, and orange juice. Maggie’s nose went nuts as she sniffed first the air and then started looking for crumbs on the floor near the carts.
As Bianca allowed her eyes to adjust to the dimmer surroundings, Cal sidled up to her. She glanced up at him and hoped this wasn’t the part where he said goodbye and tried to ditch her. So not going to happen.
“I’m starving,” he murmured.
“Me, too.”
From the moment they’d arrived, Bianca had seen no one on the grounds or coming and going from any of the buildings. “Where is everyone?”
Cal placed a hand on her lower back. “I wondered that too. Apparently, they’re all at the church, praying.”
“This place is still run by monks?”
“Worse.” He teased. “Nuns.”
Buck and Death, along with Cal’s bodyguards, exchanged a few muttered words with their counterparts. Death and one of the other men left, and a moment later, Emit Petit came jogging down the stairs.
A wide grin broke over his face when he saw her and Cal, and he stretched out his arms as he walked over to them. He was Cal’s opposite—green eyes, fair skin, lanky body—and as he clapped Cal on the back in a man hug, Bianca thought of the Chinese elements yin and yang. “Good to see you, bra.”
Cal returned the hug and the back slap. “Damn good to see you too.”
Emit turned his green eyes on her, assessing. There were shadows under them and she remembered Cal telling her Emit had been in London and had flown back to help them. “Ten years, and you’re still as beautiful as I remember.”
Bianca’s cheeks heated slightly. He looked like he wanted to hug her but hesitated. Instead, he gently took her hands in his and gave them a light squeeze. “Welcome to Life Is But A Dream. You’re safe.”
The winery was also a safe house. Go figure.
She removed her hands from Emit’s grip. “I appreciate all your help so far, but just so we’re clear, I’m not staying. I’m going to see Senator Halston.”
Emit flicked his eyes to Cal and returned to Bianca. “How about we have some breakfast and you can tell me what’s going on?”
She’d been forced to tell Cal about her job and the information she had, but Emit was all but a stranger. Maggie seemed to sense her anxiety and came to stand next to her, pressing her weight into Bianca’s leg. “Breakfast sounds good, but I can’t share classified information and I’m capable of handling the situation on my own. As long as you and Cal can keep me alive.”
“Tough as nails, like always,” Emit said. He eyed the dog as he withdrew a folded sheet of paper from his jacket pocket and held it up for Bianca to see. “I have Senator Halston’s schedule for today, and I can access the place he’s staying tonight. Sneak you in. Perhaps over breakfast, we can barter.”
He waggled his eyebrows and Bianca didn’t know whether to laugh or kick him in the shin. Same old Emit.
Cal trusted him, and maybe she should too. At least with a few of the bare facts. Nothing more. If he could get her into the senator’s hotel room… “Coffee first, and then I’ll think about it.”
Cooper’s phone buzzed. He almost didn’t feel the vibration over the shuddering of the helicopter. He drew out the phone and found a text from Nelson. Lughead got a call. Went to airport and boarded a private plane bound for Sacramento. Keep following?
What the hell was in Sacramento?
Negative. In air now. Stay with Bobby, find out what’s up in Sac. Find those vehicles. And check into McConnell Place.
What am I looking for?
Hell if he knew. This whole thing was like a giant puzzle. He took a best guess. Something to do with prez.
Roger that.
A minute later, the pilot came over Cooper’s headphones. “We’ll be setting down on the south side. Lots of commotion in our usual spot with the senator’s visit and all.”
“What visit?” he asked.
“Senator Halston. He’s in town for the weekend stumping for the president. He’s got a passel of security.”
Halston. “The head of the Intelligence Committee?” Cooper asked.
“The one and only.”
>
He and Thomas, sitting in the seat next to him, exchanged a look.
Coincidence? Cooper didn’t believe in them.
It wasn’t a what in Sacramento. It was a who.
Hacking at his phone’s touchscreen, Cooper sent Bobby a note. Sac = Senator Halston. Need today’s itinerary.
By the time the helo touched down, the itinerary was on his phone. So was another text from Bobby.
Emit Petit entered Dulles at 0300 hours this a.m. from London. Stopped in Chicago, then went straight to Sacramento.
“Get us a car,” he told Thomas.
“Where we headed?”
“To see Senator Halston. We’re attending every one of his stops today.”
Cal, Bianca, and Emit snagged plates and helped themselves to the food. Cal filled Maggie a plate with scrambled eggs and a couple chunks of ham.
While they all ate, Cal and Emit rehashed old times spent in their neighborhood and at school. Some Bianca remembered, others she didn’t. It was nice to listen to the two of them reminisce. Cal’s relaxed voice and deep laugh was a balm to her heart.
So different than the zombie soldier ready to shoot her earlier that morning.
The bodyguards rotated through the food line as well, but situated themselves at the other end of the table. She hadn’t eaten this well since Cal’s mission had blown up, and after Bianca had had her fill and her pants needed loosening around the waist, she sat back and sipped coffee with a contentment only good food and a peaceful meal could bring.
When Cal and Emit finished a few minutes later, Emit rose and cleared away the plates. Cal leaned over and whispered in her ear. “You can trust him, B. You don’t have to tell him everything, but the more he knows, the more effective he can be in helping us.”
Bianca said nothing, weighing her choices carefully. All she really needed was to stay out of Tephra’s crosshairs and speak to Senator Halston. “Are you going to tell him about your mission?”
Cal sat back, lips pressing tight.
