EDGE OF SHADOWS: The Shadow Ops Finale (Shadow Ops, Book # 3)
Page 4
Transit cops now surrounded the hysterical woman. She pointed across the tracks to him and Rose just as the arriving train blocked their view. He handed her his handkerchief to wipe her face clean and took her hand. “Let’s get out of here.”
<><><>
KC led Lucky away from the chaos, taking a winding path to the café, making sure no one followed. No one except a lone man in a beige Taurus. US Marshal Jared Wright, from WitSec, watching their backs.
She felt better having someone she could trust behind her. Lucky said nothing to her, unusual because in the past, after the bullets flew, he became a chatterbox. Adrenaline hit everyone differently. Chase, God love him, would tear up—actual tears. Others vomited or got the shakes.
KC sometimes worried there was something wrong with her. Each time she’d had to kill, the only aftershock she’d experienced was a cold ball of numbness at the pit of her stomach. She’d tried to excuse her lack of response to the fact that, both times, she’d been fighting to save someone she cared for: Chase and then Lucky.
Today, it was just her and the man with the gun. She remembered the burn of fury when he’d snuck up in her blind spot and told her to leave her position on the roof of the food kiosk. He’d trained a Tec-9 on her. Not to mention that stupid shit-eating Anonymous mask grinning at her. Which really pissed her the hell off.
She’d shimmied off the roof, and as she made the final leap to the ground, all she could think of was Chase and his own goofy grin. No way in hell was she letting this man, this foul wretch of a man who dragged children here to use as cannon fodder, no way was she about to let this scumbag keep her from going home to the man she loved.
Not. Going. To. Happen.
The next few seconds were a blur—she couldn’t remember a single formed thought, just action and reaction. She’d dropped to the ground hard, making it appear as if she’d injured herself, drawing him close.
Then she’d leapt, twisting her body into his, wrenching his elbow, pulling tight on his trigger finger. His body absorbed his own bullets, then he twitched and fell, her weight on top of his, pinning him to the ground, not releasing the trigger until the magazine was empty.
Quick search for more weapons, ID, comms, and it was all over, faster than she could've made her morning coffee if she’d stayed home.
They turned the corner in front of Angelina’s. The sidewalk was filled with people ignoring their breakfast and pointing to the smoke coloring the sky over the Mall. Even more stood with their heads down, looking at the same scene via their phones, gathering tweets as intel.
“They said a truck caught on fire,” one man said.
“No, man, that was a bomb. Bet it was more of those guys like in Boston. We’ll show ’em.”
“That’s not far from the Metro, maybe—”
KC pulled Lucky through the crowd and around to the alley where Jared waited. The Marshal bounded from his vehicle and strode toward them. “What the hell, KC—”
To her surprise, Lucky intervened. “It’s okay, Jared. We can leave in a few minutes. Let me use your phone. Call Vinnie, though.”
For a moment, KC thought the Marshal would lock Lucky in the car and take off. His face was flushed yet also pale. His hands—no, his entire body—shook as he handed Lucky the phone. Lucky moved to the rear seat of the car.
“You took out the one at the front of the bus,” KC said, recognizing Jared’s agitation was about more than seeing his witness placed in danger.
He didn’t meet her eyes as he nodded. “Took me a few minutes to get there without being seen. I thought—” He shook his head as if rearranging his thoughts. “For a moment there, I thought I was too late.”
“I’d say your timing was perfect,” Billy Price said as he and Rose emerged from Angelina’s rear door. Billy made a beeline to check on Lucky.
Rose had a cut on her forehead, partially hidden by her dark curls. She dabbed at it with a man’s handkerchief, but it kept oozing.
“Thank you,” she said to Jared.
“Jared Wright, this is Rose Prospero,” KC made introductions.
“I remember,” Jared said. “We met when I was taking care of Chase Westin’s little brother, Jay.”
KC smiled at that. Jay was nineteen and as tall as Chase—he’d hate being referred to as a little brother who needed “taking care” of. But the kid had been in over his head, caught up in one of the Preacher’s arms deals. Without Jay needing her help, she would've never been there to meet Chase—or to save his life.
“Look,” Jared continued, puffing up as anger overwhelmed him. “I don’t like being kept out of the loop when it comes to one of my cases. I didn’t like it back in December, and I sure as hell don’t like it now, not when there are kids’ lives at stake and bombs going off and guys with goofy tiger masks that I have to shoot dead.”
KC stepped back from the Marshal’s vitriol, but Rose stood and took it. She seemed to understand it was best to let the man say his piece. Finally, he wound down, his color returning to normal.
“Again, thanks for the assist, Jared,” Rose said, offering her hand to the US Marshal. “I’m sorry things took a turn for the worse out there today.”
“You going to stop these wackos before they can blow up more school buses and kids?”
“That’s exactly what I intend to do.” Rose’s smile was twisted. “Might have to bend the rules a bit.”
“Not by using my witness as bait.” There was an edge of warning to his voice.
“No, sir. I wouldn’t dream of it. Take good care of Lucky and Vinnie, okay? They’re special people.”
His gaze met Rose’s, and he nodded his understanding. He touched his forehead as if saluting. “Yes, ma’am. You can count on me.”
Billy closed the car door on Lucky, double tapping it with his fist. They watched Jared and Lucky drive away.
KC turned to Rose. “I called Chase, told him I’m picking him up early from the hospital. Only question is, are we bugging out to a safe house or heading into the office, pretending it’s business as usual?”
Rose blew her breath out, and KC knew the question had been weighing heavily on her. KC had only been working with the Team for a little more than a month, and it killed her to think that one of their own could have betrayed them to the Preacher’s group. How must Rose feel after building the Team from scratch, in essence, creating a family?
“Take the day off,” Rose finally said. “Billy and I can take care of business while you take care of Chase. But I’d be prepared for anything.”
“Always am,” KC said with an enthusiasm she didn’t feel. Her gaze followed the trail of black smoke clearly visible against the pale winter sky. “We’re in a whole new ball game now, aren’t we?”
Rose nodded and said nothing for a long moment. “KC, watch over Chase—and his brother, Jay, as well. The Preacher’s people have made it clear. It’s personal now. No one is off limits.”
“Roger that.”
Chapter 5
Billy watched as KC took off and the Marshal drove away with Lucky, leaving him with Rose and a shitload of complications. First things first. “We’ll go to my place,” he told her. “It’s just a few blocks away, and we can get you cleaned up, figure out our next step.”
She was silent, her gaze fixed on the spot where the taillights on the Marshal’s car had vanished. Now that they were alone, her shoulders sagged and mouth dragged down in a frown, eyes narrowed in thought.
Did she realize that she never let down her guard like that for anyone else except him? Not that he’d ever tell her—knowing Rose, she’d tighten her emotional defenses rather than admit to any vulnerability. But after two years of working with her, it was a step in the right direction. He took her elbow, steered her in the direction of his townhouse, and they walked in silence.
“Billy Price, you are one of the last of the true gentlemen,” Rose finally said, holding his handkerchief to her forehead as he led her inside and down the hall to his kitchen. �
��Who even carries a real handkerchief anymore?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he swapped the bloody piece of silk for a bag of frozen spinach. “Remember the last time you were here?”
She grimaced. “Yeah. Offered you the job of your dreams. Look where that’s gotten you. Good thing you have your dad’s company to fall back on. Will you write me when they lock me away at Gitmo?”
“Not funny. And not going to happen.” Not if he had anything to do with it.
“They sent clowns, Billy. Freaking clowns.”
“Actually, anime,” he corrected while getting his med kit from the pantry.
She glared at him. “You think those kids caught in the crossfire or their parents would give a damn about the semantics?”
Billy was thinking more along the lines of an investigative angle—how many shops rented those types of masks? But he knew better than to say anything. Knowing KC, she’d have a complete list ready before they were done here.
“Clowns,” Rose repeated. “Like this whole thing is a joke. They would have killed those little kids without thinking twice. Humiliating us is more important to them than children’s lives.” She paused. Waited for him to catch up.
Unfortunately, he was already there. Maybe even, for once in his life, he’d sped past her. She was talking about jettisoning the rulebook, going rogue. “You can’t let your emotions determine your actions, Rose.”
“And we can’t play by the rules, either, Billy. Not anymore. Not after this morning. They’re taking the game to a whole new level, and we need to as well.”
He said nothing. She was right—and yet also so very wrong. If they were forced to play by the Preacher’s rules, then they’d already lost.
But he knew better than to tell her that. Actions spoke louder than words to Rose. Better to show her, let her intuition absorb the facts and make one of those leaps of faith that had saved them all six days ago when she’d gone after the Preacher. The same intuition that realized there was a traitor in their midst long before he’d been able to see it with his facts and data.
Maybe now was the time to sit down and do some analysis. “I think we’ve been going at this backward.” He took his magnetized whiteboard with his shopping list from the fridge and sat down beside her, wiping it clean. “When was the first time we had evidence there was a traitor?”
She didn’t even have to think. “The FBI was hit first, early last year. Then, before Christmas, we lost Victor Krakov.” Her voice dropped. Krakov was a Navy SEAL who’d gone undercover with one of the Preacher’s groups. Rose had brought his body home, honoring his final wishes.
He made marks on his timeline. “And then ATF with Lucky. All attributed to someone accessing the DOJ undercover-operative database.”
“Right. Lucky confirmed that last week when the Preacher accessed it again, despite the beefed-up security, and killed his friend.”
“All of that points to a leak at a central intel database—someone at the DOJ or maybe even NSA.”
“Maybe even multiple leaks—” Her words cut off. She jerked her chin up, eyes wide. The bag of spinach dropped to the tabletop. “No…no…” She spun out of her chair as if breaking free from a cage. “KC suspected back at Christmas. But we were too busy chasing the Preacher. Damn it, I should have seen it.”
He stood, catching up to her as she paced, firmly put the spinach back into her hand and pressed it to her wound. “Seen what?”
“The traitor. Or, more likely, traitors. Doesn’t matter. There’s been one in our house all along.”
“No. Rose, how could there? Everyone’s been vetted—” He stopped. Looked at his timeline. Saw what she saw and realized she was right. “Chase. His undercover op wasn’t listed in any database. Not even our own. But on that last day—”
“The Preacher’s men knew he wasn’t who he said he was. How’d they blow Chase’s cover, Billy? He was on the inside for months, and they trusted him completely. It wasn’t until he was forced to break radio silence and call us—”
“You don’t know that,” he snapped. His mind dissected the timeline of everything that happened to Chase during that ill-fated Christmas mission.
She kept her gaze on him, expression grim, until he finally met her eyes and nodded. “You’re right,” he conceded. “It was only after we brought the entire team on board that Chase’s cover was blown.”
“Which means Hollywood is clean—he was there when I recruited Chase.”
Good thing, because Hollywood was currently headed to Atlanta to pick up a former CDC doctor who had been mentioned in the Preacher’s files. “But that still leaves Marion and EZ, not to mention the folks we reached out to at the NSA and FBI.” Who else was at the STR offices during the op? “Plus, Anderson and our own on-site security and support staff, like Teresa—”
“And Susan Payne,” she reminded him, an edge to her voice. “Don’t forget the good senator. She knew.”
“Doesn’t what happened today rule her out?” he argued. For some reason he was always defending Susan to Rose. And Rose to Susan. “Susan didn’t know about the meet this morning. Only people on our own team knew that.”
She sighed. “So, we’re right back where we started—except now we know for certain we have a traitor in our midst.”
“We ruled out Hollywood. Plus, we know Chase and KC can’t be involved. And EZ has been pulling intel from the Preacher’s hard drive all week.”
“Making him less likely. But we won’t be able to rule him out until we see how good the intel is.”
He nodded at that, hating not being able to trust his own team. “We’ve another problem as well. During the hearing today, I learned that one of the Preacher’s men from the tunnel escaped.”
“Why didn’t they tell us before this? We could've been searching—” She grimaced and answered her own question. “They don’t trust us. They don’t trust me.”
“Even worse, they’re unleashing the National Security Division to do a full audit. And they want you to testify tomorrow. Then they’ll decide our fate.”
She rolled her eyes, understanding that all the committee and NSD really wanted was a scapegoat. “If I fall on my sword, do you think I can save the Team?”
“Not going to come to that,” he promised, not meeting her gaze. His phone rang again. Susan. Wondering where he was, no doubt.
“Don’t you need to rush back to the senator?” she asked.
He didn’t want to know how she knew the call was from Susan. No way could she see his phone screen from where she stood. Sometimes he wondered how much of her Razgravian grandmother’s gypsy blood Rose had inherited.
Instead of answering, he moved a chair in front of the sink and motioned for her to sit. “Let me clean that cut and get you patched up. Then we can figure out our next step.”
Billy guided her head back and, holding her thick, dark hair out of the way with one hand, tenderly flushed the laceration with the other. He was glad she had her eyes closed. Rose was far too good at reading people, and after two years of his wanting her, there was no way he could hide it from her face-to-face. Not now when he finally had a reason to fill his hands with her silky hair, stroke her soft skin.
After what had happened to her in Razgravia, she typically shied away from any uninvited touch. And who would blame her?
But not with Billy. With Billy, she didn’t flinch, didn’t wince. In Billy’s hands, she relaxed and allowed him to care for her. He enjoyed the moment, knowing all too well she would back away from him as soon as it was over. Slam the wall of professionalism down between them.
If only he knew for certain if she felt the same way about him as he did her. First time in his life he ever felt a coward. But how could he say anything without explaining that he knew everything Grigor had done to her in Razgravia? That he’d actually watched the video of her torture? She’d never want to be with him knowing that.
Yet, how could he not tell her how he felt? Do-or-die time, he told himself.
“Why hasn’t some woman grabbed you up, Billy?” Rose asked, her voice holding a hint of humor. “Is it because you aren’t ready to settle down?”
It was because he wasn’t ready to settle for anyone other than her. But what he said was, “I am ready to settle down.”
“Really?” She flicked her eyes open. He shielded them with his palm as he rinsed the soap away. Then he released her, handing her a dishtowel to dry off with.
Now or never, Price.
It took all his training to keep his breathing slow and his voice steady. “In fact, I have found someone. The woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.”
She was mopping her face with the towel, but he didn’t need to see her expression to read her. Not with the way her hands tightened and her shoulders hunched. Her entire body grew tense. Did she not know he was talking about her?
“Is that so?” The towel muffled her voice, but that didn’t hide the mix of resentment and longing that colored her words.
His pulse raced as he waited for her to lower the towel and confirm his suspicions. She took a moment longer than necessary before heaving in a deep breath and handing him the damp towel.
“I’m happy for you and Senator Payne,” she said. Her words were earnest, truthful, but her smile was weighed down by sadness and didn’t make it to her eyes.
He knelt beside her, finishing the job of closing the wound, ready to tell her everything when his phone rang again, disrupting the delicate balance between them.
“That will be Susan Payne,” she said, looking away as he applied the glue, aligning the edges of the cut so she’d have the least amount of scarring possible—something he’d never bothered with when patching up any of his guys in Delta.
“I expect so,” he answered. “But, Rose, I need to tell you—”
Before he could say anything, she sprang out of the chair and grabbed her coat. “I’d better leave you to her, then. I have to check on EZ’s progress. Get him and KC searching for the man who escaped from the tunnel last week. Can you keep the investigators off my back for a while? Then we’ll talk later, come up with a plan?”