Chase

by Sidney Bristol

  “Stand down,” Gabriel barked to the newcomers.

  A man in cowboy boots and a Stetson, of all things, brought up the rear, ushering in a heavily tattooed woman who crossed to the man who’d entered first. The cowboy pressed the button to close the bay doors. Six people stared at her, and there wasn’t a friendly one in the bunch.

  This was such a bad idea.

  “I—Are we free to talk?” she asked Gabriel.

  His gaze narrowed.

  “I’d say yes, but you took the security offline and—” A phone ding from several pockets made him pause long enough to glance at his cell. “Security’s back up. Talk.”

  “I . . . I’m sorry. I used the code CJ gave me to get to his files.” She gestured toward the office.

  “What code did you use?” Aiden asked.

  She took a deep breath and recited the six-digit code CJ had made her memorize.

  “What the fuck are you doing in my garage?” Aiden was almost yelling now.

  “Boss,” Gabriel barked.

  Aiden glanced toward him, none of the anger dissipating.

  Gabriel turned and strode away from her, toward an electric purple muscle car. He was both beautiful and deadly when he moved. There was a fluidness to his movements and an understated strength that made it easy for people to dismiss him as just another average Joe. Boy, were they wrong.

  She cleared her throat, tore her gaze from him, and slowly took stock of those present. She’d hoped to do this tomorrow, after she’d prepared herself a bit more, but now was as good as ever. They were missing the other twin as well as the field tech, but she’d read the notes on them. Besides, a tech so highly recommended as Emery Martin, she was willing to bet he was listening to them right now.

  “I’m Special Agent Nikki Gage—”

  “Gage?” Aiden leaned forward, arms crossed.

  “Yes.” She held her head up a little more. Damn it. She’d have liked to get through the high-level overview before they cracked this nut.

  “Any relation to Danny Gage?”

  “My father is the deputy director of the FBI, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “This is rich.” Aiden wrapped one arm around the woman sticking close to his side while glaring at Nikki. “Madison, would you mind getting some coffee going?”

  “I can do that.” The tattooed woman glanced from Nikki to Aiden, and the look was not friendly. Awesome. More people who didn’t like her. She was making friends today.

  “Thank you.” She took a deep breath, grounding herself. Yes, her father was one of the most influential men in the FBI. She’d practically grown up in the bureau, and she’d still had to work her ass off to get where she was. No one had handed her anything, contrary to rumor and public opinion. “CJ gave me his access codes so I could come here after I landed. Familiarize myself a bit more before we met—off icially—tomorrow. Director Scott—I’m getting ahead of myself. I apologize. I’m part of a new task force geared toward handling homegrown security threats.”

  “What? Like the Unabomber?” the man with the Stetson asked. John. They called him John Wayne, but the man was no joke. Behind that country-boy façade was a dangerous and decorated war hero who’d walked away from a promotion to come work on cars.

  “Exactly like the Unabomber.” She clasped her hands in front of her. “Today we face more threats from Americans on our own soil than we do from foreigners.”

  “What’s the job?” Gabriel asked from across the garage. He’d retreated almost as far as he could go and still be in the same space as her. Did he hate her? She couldn’t blame him. She had walked out on him, but he’d left her long before she removed herself physically.

  “Director Scott is supposed to call you,” she glanced at Aiden, then Julian, “tomorrow morning and notify you that until further notice, I am your FBI handler, and your mission is changing. Only for a little while. There’s a man by the name of Bradley Wilson. He’s a charismatic guy that has been involved in a number of militant cells. Until now he’s been a footnote in a file tracking their movements, but not as anyone with any kind of clout.” She picked up her satchel and set it on a red metal set of drawers. It was surprisingly clean, with little grease or gunk. Settling into her role helped. This she was used to. She could focus on Gabriel less.

  “Why is this our problem? We’ve already got enough on our plates.” Aiden was closer now, but he still regarded her warily.

  Nikki knew Aiden was going to be the one to win over. From all accounts, since the arrest of their prime target he’d become increasingly belligerent toward FBI involvement. “I did not request you, if that’s what you’re asking. I was assigned to this, and Director Scott told me this team was at my disposal.”

  “Look, lady, you can tell Emery and Julian what to do, but the rest of us? We’re contract employees. We don’t have to say yes to anything you’re trying to sell us.” The way Aiden stared at her, she didn’t doubt he’d tell her to leave for the fun of it.

  “Aiden.” Gabriel nodded, motioning the other man over.

  Aiden strode over to the purple car, abruptly pausing their conversation. If it could be called that. Julian, John, and the redhead joined them, putting their heads together and closing her out.

  While they were otherwise occupied, Nikki pulled out her cell phone and shot off a text to CJ. What kind of game was the man playing at?

  Setting me up?

  His reply was almost instantaneous. As if he’d been waiting to hear from her.

  You needed the Band-Aid ripped off.

  He’d set her up. Figured.

  Nikki pocketed the phone without another glance and tried to act naturally. As if she came face-to-face with her past every day.

  She tried to not stare either, to not feel like the kid looking through the window, but this was what her relationship with Gabe had always been like. She was the professional, kept on the outside, while he did the messy business. Every day she’d fought against the divide in his life, wanting to be let in, and he’d just kept her at a distance. He was the most infuriating man, so why hadn’t she been able to shake him? She still slept in his shirt on really bad days, ordered his pizza, drank his beer.

  God, she was pathetic.

  Coming here, accepting this case, was the biggest mistake she’d made since . . . since leaving him.

  Chapter Two

  Gabriel stared at Aiden’s forehead to keep from looking over his shoulder at Nikki. She had the carved-from-stone look down to an art. She’d wait them out all night if they tried, and they’d get nowhere with her. The FBI was literally bred into her. If they were going to outplay her on this, they had to get their shit together.

  “She’s your ex. What do you think?” Julian asked Gabriel.

  “She’s your what?” Aiden asked, his gaze ping-ponging back and forth between Gabriel and Julian.

  Gabriel wasn’t ready to have that conversation with Aiden now. Or ever.

  “I think you and Emery have no choice, and we can all say we won’t be part of whatever she’s here to do, but when Julian’s ass is on the line we’ll all be there for him, doing exactly what she needs us to do.” He tilted his head toward Julian slightly before catching himself and halting the gesture. Nikki saw everything.

  “How can we spin this?” Aiden asked him.

  Usually, Aiden and Julian made the decisions, called the shots, and that was it. Now everyone’s gaze centered on Gabriel, as if he knew what he was doing. It was a strange place to be. Especially with this group. He’d shed the mantle of responsibility when he left the FBI. Stretching his decision-making skills felt good. Once, he’d been the one to set up operations, direct units, but not anymore.

  “Nikki is honest,” he said.

  “For a Hoover,” Aiden threw in, using their private term for the FBI. Most of the agents they worked with just sucked the time and life right out of them.

  “She’s as honest as she can be.” Gabriel stared Aiden in the eyes now. “Let’s mak
e her a deal. See what we can make happen.”

  “You do the talking,” Julian said.

  “What?” Aiden scowled, his brows drawn down into a hard line.

  “Trust me.” Julian slapped his best friend’s chest.

  “Fine. Go.” Aiden’s mouth twisted into a scowl. No matter how this went down, he wasn’t going to like it.

  Everyone stepped back, facing Nikki with a unified front, not that he expected her to back down. The woman had a backbone stronger than steel.

  She hadn’t moved from where she stood at Aiden’s workbench except to pull out a thin manila folder. The black suit was severe, yet well tailored. He knew from experience the prude clothing hid a banging body. Of course she had to cover up those curves, or else her fellow agents would hound her, a lot like he had, but that was before he’d laid eyes on her.

  His last handler got himself fired in the middle of Gabriel’s deep-cover gig. Nikki had been introduced to him over the phone. He’d liked her immediately—because of her honesty. She’d treated him like a person, not a tool to be used. She wasn’t like the other suits. From there, they’d been two lonely souls sharing about their day, what kept them up at night, and the good they wanted to do. Sleeping with her wasn’t the wisest thing he’d done, but he’d never regretted it.

  Nikki didn’t speak, but her gaze followed him, as if she knew they’d elected him the spokesperson in this little charade. Yeah, it was a crock of bull. They all knew if one member of the crew was involved, they all were. They didn’t turn their backs on their own. But maybe she didn’t know that. And maybe she didn’t know the sky was blue.

  “If we do this, we want something.” He hated how sleazy those words felt coming out of his mouth.

  “You want to know why the FBI withheld evidence that would have prevented Michael Evers being released on bond.”

  Gabriel didn’t know what was more surprising, that she knew what they were going to ask for or that she’d just admitted to what they’d all suspected.

  The FBI had hindered their investigation.

  “And who they’re trying to trap.” The muscles across Gabriel’s shoulders tensed. She was a hell of a lot more knowledgeable than she’d admitted.

  “I thought you just read the highlights.” Aiden said what they were all thinking.

  She turned her eyes on Aiden, relieving him of their burden.

  “I did. And then I spoke to CJ.”

  Mutters from the others buzzed in the background. Their old handler had remained out of contact for several months following the death of his wife, a loss they were all still healing from. Gabriel, Aiden, all of them, had tried to contact him numerous times, but had been shut out. He’d been part of their crew, and yet he’d confided in Nikki? Not them? Gabriel didn’t know what to make of that.

  She held a file folder in front of her, one hand wrapped around her wrist. To the eye, she was relaxed, in control, and yet Gabriel was starting to see the signs of strain. It was in the corner of her mouth, on the left side. Her nails were bare. Small signs, but ones he’d grown to notice back in the day.

  “How is he?” Roni asked. CJ and his wife had become part of their family, and the twins had felt their loss particularly hard.

  “He’s . . . dealing. I wouldn’t say he’s well, but he’s trying to move on.” For a moment Nikki didn’t look at any of them. She shook her head and focused on Gabriel once more, treating him to the full scrutiny of her gaze. “I can’t promise to get you answers, but I can try. Being the deputy director’s daughter doesn’t give me a license to do anything I want. It means a lot more people watch what I do. Especially these days.”

  Honesty. He’d always appreciated how Nikki told him the truth, no matter how ugly or screwed up it might be. Even now, after all this time, he still knew she was shooting them straight.

  “What’s the gig?” Gabriel asked.

  “Bradley Wilson. He’s started his own militia, supposedly to protect the US citizens from themselves. Their pitch for recruiting is that Americans are weak. We need to wake up and realize the danger we are in. The people he’s gathered are all highly trained. Many of them are ex-military, former law enforcement, and straight-up whack jobs. Up until now, Wilson has been the one following orders. This group is the first time he’s the one in charge.”

  “Do you know why?” Gabriel held out his hand and took a few steps closer. She met him halfway with the file.

  “After we arrested and interviewed the people at his last ‘outpost,’ it sounds like narcissism and a very perverted case of Munchausen by proxy. He wants to fix America by attacking it.”

  “The country is sick, so he’s going to cure them by shocking them awake?” Gabriel flipped through the file. There were a dozen pieces of paper, photographs, and a few maps. It wasn’t a thick file.

  “Something like that. His group carried out two hits on a couple gun retail warehouses, robbing them, before blowing up a sheriff’s station in Tennessee. They went to ground and surfaced in Miami last week. From what I could gather, several core members are from the area, so they’re starting their reeducation of America here.”

  “What does this reeducation entail?” Aiden peered over Gabriel’s shoulder.

  “So far, they haven’t hurt anyone. Even the sheriff’s office was completely empty. Based on their mission statement, I’d guess they’re going to blow something else up, and this time they might not stick to empty buildings.”

  “That won’t last. No one will talk about them unless they kill a few people,” Roni said.

  Nikki plucked the file from his hand and spread the papers out on the workbench. They each took a section and started reading.

  Gabriel continued to stare at the roster of names. Most had just a single line of information on the person. This really was a startup gig. He could feel Nikki’s gaze on him, peeling back the layers.

  Who held her at night now? Did he want to know?

  One of the smaller doors opened and their tech, Emery, stepped into the garage, followed by his girlfriend Tori. Emery tapped the headset hooked over one ear and made a beeline for the limited information spread.

  “This isn’t our problem.” Aiden tossed the papers back onto the workbench, scowling, no doubt itching to dump everything off his station.

  “Maybe not, but look at it this way.” Gabriel handed the papers to Emery, but kept his gaze on Aiden. “The Hoovers wouldn’t send someone with a name like Gage down here if the gig was optional. That means that like it or not, we’re going to have to do what Nikki says. Now, I can tell you from experience that she’s a hell of a lot better to work with than anyone but maybe CJ. She didn’t have to ask us to do this. I bet she’s got a signed set of orders that will compel us to do what she wants, and instead of throwing that at us, she’s coming to the table willing to bargain.”

  Nikki bit her lip. She always hated when people threw around her daddy’s name and position.

  “Is that true?” Aiden asked.

  “Yes, Gabriel has hit on most of it.” She tipped her chin up a bit, as if daring them to think less of her.

  At least the bureau hadn’t changed that part of her.

  “What will they do if we don’t play ball?” Aiden crossed his arms across his chest.

  “I ensured Director Scott it wouldn’t come to that.” She wasn’t dissuaded, intimidated, or shaken by any of them or this unorthodox setup. At least not on the surface. Good. If this was going to work, she would have to get her hands dirty.

  “You can fight it if you want, Aiden, but what if saying no puts Madison in danger? What about you? The garage? You heard about the freelancer last month the same as I did.” Gabriel had known the freelance spy. A decent enough man, but when he’d said no to a job Uncle Sam wanted him to do, they put his baby mama in jail and his kid into CPS before he could blink.

  “Yeah, I heard,” Aiden replied.

  “I don’t want to work with people who don’t believe in the work we’re doing,” Nikki sai
d, breaking into the staring match. “We’ve got a little to go on. The less time I have to spend fighting you, the more time I can spend trying to find these guys and stop them.”

  Gabriel continued studying Aiden, willing the man to see the bigger picture. None of them wanted to do another job right now. Their plates were full, but having Nikki possibly working for them, passing them intel, was an invaluable opportunity. She wouldn’t break many rules, but she was a lot closer to the source of their problems than they were.

  “We’ve got company,” Roni announced, pocketing her phone.

  More light spilled in through the windows set into the garage doors.

  Who the hell was Roni talking to?

  A moment later, Detective Matt Smith stepped into the garage. His gelled blond hair gleamed in the light. He still wore his badge on his hip, so this was an official visit at least.

  “Do I want to know?” the golden boy cop asked. He’d had the unfortunate luck of getting involved with their crew and had become something of an honorary member.

  “Depends.” Nikki glanced at Gabriel, as if she were looking for his lead. It shouldn’t have pushed him off balance, but it did. On some level, she still trusted him. That rapport wasn’t completely destroyed.

  “Probably. Matt, meet Supervisory Special Agent Nikki Gage of the FBI. We’re about to take a vote on if we’re going to stop some guys from blowing up Miami.”

  “What?” Matt glanced between them. “This is a joke, right?”

  “Afraid not, Detective,” Nikki said.

  “Why are you even voting about something like that?” Matt’s expression just got more horrified by the second.

  “Who wants to let idiots with guns and bombs blow people up?” Gabriel asked, sweeping the room with a look.

  No one raised their hand. Aiden pursed his lips and averted his eyes, but otherwise didn’t object.