The Assassin

by Tricia Andersen

  “You know that won’t happen. You’re here until the bitter end. Sloan always sees a job through.”

  Abbey sighed. “You’re right.” She lay back down on the ground and readjusted her sight in the scope. A smile cracked her lips as Bartholomew covered her with the sheet. Always protecting me.

  The day passed quickly behind the rifle. It didn’t take long for the paint to dry in the blazing sun. Bartholomew chattered on about Maggie, the baby, sports, and just about anything else that came to mind. Abbey just grinned. Of all the men in her group, she was glad it was Bartholomew she was with. Well, except Sloan. In a good mood.

  She packed her gun when her relief showed up. Once it was safely stowed away, she turned to Bartholomew. “Do you still have that baggie the sandwich was in?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Could I have it please?”

  “Why?”

  Abbey turned and corralled the remaining paintballs in her hands. Once they were gathered in a little pile, she took the bag from him.

  “Abbey, leave them. It was a rotten prank. Don’t give those bastards the satisfaction.”

  “Torelli wanted me to have them. I’m keeping them.” She scooped the paintballs into the baggie. Sealing it shut, she tossed it into her case and stood to descend the hill.

  Abbey made it halfway across the camp when Lathrop’s voice stopped her. “Abigail, your uniform. What happened?”

  “Really, O’Riley? Is this the respect you have for this camp?” Torelli interrupted as he appeared beside Lathrop. Sloan appeared at his other side. “We’re expected to wear neat, clean uniforms. Yours is far from it. Where in hell did you run into pink paint?”

  “I wonder.” Abbey sneered.

  She didn’t miss the smirk on his face as his gaze raked over her. He turned to Sloan. “Deal with her. Now.”

  Sloan grit his teeth. “Torelli, shut the…”

  “Gentlemen, please,” Lathrop interjected.

  “Of course.” Sloan growled as Torelli and his men strode away. He pointed toward the barracks. “Go clean yourself up.”

  “You aren’t remotely curious how I got covered in paint up there?” Abbey questioned.

  “Yes, I am. I’m extremely curious. I’m certain it begins and ends with Torelli’s lackeys. If they don’t stop this bullshit, I’ll stop it for them. Now, go.”

  “Fine. Whatever you wish.”

  “Whatever I wish what?”

  “Whatever you wish, sir.” Abbey glared at him one last time before storming off.

  »»•««

  Sloan watched as his wife walked away, his eyes roaming the curves splattered with dried, bright pink paint. For a moment, the memories of their night in Bangkok flashed in his mind. He bit back a growl. It had been too long without her. He needed her lying beside him naked again.

  He looked at the camp around him. As long as they were here, that wouldn’t happen. They needed to find this smuggler so they could go home. Once they were home, he wouldn’t let her out of their bedroom for a week, maybe two.

  Once she disappeared from sight, he turned to Bartholomew. “Do I want to know what happened to my lass?”

  “It was Torelli’s lackeys. They tossed a container of paintballs at her, which busted open. He is hell-bent on making her miserable.”

  “I’ve noticed him watch her. He has more than that on his mind. We need to find a lead and put this all behind us.”

  “Have you found anything?”

  “No. And Dunham has been no help getting us clearance to really investigate. Every time I demand it, he tells me he’ll see what he can do. Then, nothing. We’re on our own.”

  “Fantastic. I’m going to clean up. Meet you at supper?”

  “Sure.”

  Bartholomew jogged toward his quarters.

  Sloan wandered off, weaving between the vehicles and buildings. He knew he appeared to do absolutely nothing while he was in the camp. That was the furthest thing from the truth. He listened. He watched. He had already followed up on several conversations on which he had eavesdropped. Eventually, one would lead to their smuggler.

  After about an hour of walking, Sloan turned back to the mess hall. He stopped short at the sound of a voice. “Seriously, man. I’ve sold dozens! I only expected to sell one or two, but the buyers are crawling out of the woodwork. Top dollar too! I just have to sit on my bunk, and the money is rolling in.”

  Sloan searched for the source of the words. As they began again, he saw a pair of feet on the other side of a large cargo truck. “Nope, I don’t even have to package them. I got peeps to do that.”

  Sloan snuck a glance around the corner of the vehicle to see a small, mousy private chatting on his phone. A grin spread across Sloan’s face. He had seen this soldier around the camp and knew the man worked with munitions. Very easy to dispose of weapons without anyone knowing. This couldn’t have happened at a better time. Time to arrest this bastard and take my wife home.

  He rushed to the mess hall, searching for Bartholomew. Once he saw the younger man sitting at a table alone digging into a pile of mashed potatoes, Sloan dodged other soldiers to get to him. He dropped into an empty seat. “How long are you going to be?”

  Bartholomew looked at him with confusion. “What has you in an all-fired hurry?”

  “I found him.” Sloan’s words were hushed.

  “The smuggler?”

  “Aye. I’m going to go find Lathrop and arrest him.”

  “Arrest who?”

  “That Private Mitchell. Comes to my chest. Sort of looks like a rat. I heard him talking on the phone about his sales.”

  “Makes total sense. I’ll hurry. You just go.”

  “All right.” Sloan stood and left to look for Lathrop. He felt his heart lighten. It would be good to go home to Minnesota. He could work on his relationship with Abbey. Maybe they could find something to do together for fun. They deserved time off.

  Sloan stopped dead in his tracks when he found Torelli near the door to the women’s barracks. The captain was leaning against the wall, a big grin across his face. Beside him, just outside the door, was Abbey. He said something to make her smile. She reached up to capture a lock of hair between her fingers. She silently wrapped it around her finger as she listened to him.

  Fury raged in Sloan as he approached them. “Am I interrupting?”

  A look of relief flooded Abbey’s face. “No, not at all.”

  Sloan glared at her for a moment before turning to Torelli. “Where the bloody hell is Lathrop?”

  “How the hell am I supposed to know?”

  “Because you spend most of your time kissing his ass. I know who the arms dealer is.” Sloan flicked his wrist. “Abigail, you’re with me.”

  Sloan crossed the camp in search of the captain. Abbey was scurrying to keep at his side. Out of the corner of his eye, Sloan could see Torelli on their heels.

  They found Lathrop a few steps inside the command center. “I found the smuggler,” Sloan announced.

  “You did?” Lathrop asked warily.

  “Mitchell. Arrest him so I can question him.”

  “Let’s question him first. If you’re right, then I’ll arrest him.”

  Sloan growled as Torelli smirked at him before Lathrop led them through the camp to the mess hall. Mitchell was sitting at a table, laughing and eating with his friends. Lathrop walked up to the group and leaned on the tabletop. “Mitchell, we need to talk.”

  “About what, sir?”

  “Just come with me.” Lathrop escorted Mitchell and the rest of them through the kitchen to a quiet spot in the mess hall. He thumbed toward Sloan. “Mr. O’Riley here believes you’re shipping illegal firearms from this camp and selling them to the highest bidder.”

  “No, sir. I would never do that.”

  The group fell silent as everyone watched what unfolded. Sloan didn’t care. Let them. They can witness firsthand what happens if you mess with me and mine. “I heard you on the phone a little bit ago bragg
ing about your exploits, talking about your sales and how your ‘peeps’ package your items for you.”

  “Oh that.” Mitchell slipped his smart phone from his pocket, searching through the apps for the right one. Then, he held up the screen for Lathrop and Sloan to see. Torelli wedged himself to look also. “I’m selling vintage video games. My mom was cleaning out our family room and wants them gone. I had big boxes of them. With the new consoles out, I didn’t figure anyone would want them. But then, the offers came pouring in. It’s been awesome. My mom packages and ships them for me. Anything to get the crap out of her basement, huh?”

  Sloan ripped the cell from the private’s hand and studied it. He sighed. What Mitchell said was correct. On the app was a variety of video games.

  “Thank you, Private,” Lathrop murmured. “You’re excused.” The captain glared at Sloan then followed his soldier through the serving line.

  “All you’ve proved, Sloan, is that no one can have a conversation around you,” Torelli laughed. He looked at Abbey.

  “I’m starving. I’m going to get something to eat.” Abbey locked eyes with Sloan. “Will you join me?”

  “Of course. I thought you would never ask,” Torelli responded with a smirk.

  “I’m sorry. I wasn’t talking to…” Abbey grew quiet. “I’ve got to go.” She spun on her toe and strode toward the mess hall. Torelli shot a grin at Sloan as he trotted off behind her, not slowing his pace until he was beside her. Sloan clenched his fists furiously before storming from the mess hall.

  »»•««

  Abbey glanced back at the door that Sloan had just slammed closed behind him. Her heart fell in her chest. Her attention was pulled from the exit by Torelli.

  “Come on, little O’Riley. Get your tray so we can eat,” he coaxed. “You’re holding up the line.”

  She glanced at him warily as she picked up her tray and stepped up to the serving line. Her body jolted as she felt strong fingers touch her hip. Torelli grinned at her as she glared at him indignantly, his hand still firmly attached to her.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  “Being a gentleman,” he answered innocently.

  “I’m perfectly capable of getting through this line on my own. Thank you.”

  “I’m sure you are, Abbey.”

  Abbey pulled away from him with a scowl. Quickly loading her tray, she scooted through the mess hall to an empty table in the corner. It was all the way across the large room from where Torelli typically sat. His cronies were even there waiting for their leader to join them. Hopefully that’ll lose him.

  She wasn’t even settled in her seat before he was setting his tray across from hers. The wicked glimmer in his eyes told her she would have to try much harder to shake him. He glanced around as he dropped into his seat. “Not normally where I eat. Change is good though, right? About time I check out this part of the mess.”

  “Aren’t your buddies waiting for you?”

  Torelli chuckled as he motioned back to his normal table. Abbey bit back a gasp, but by his reaction, she knew he had heard it. Each one of his lackeys had stood and, taking their trays, was shuffling their way between the rows of tables toward them. “They’re mobile. They go where I go.”

  “Fantastic,” she moaned.

  One by one, each of Torelli’s men joined them, none of them looking too happy to share their meal with Abbey. She felt for them. She wasn’t thrilled either. She stabbed ferociously at her food, chewing and swallowing as fast as she could. Scanning the room, she could see almost every pair of eyes focused on her. Great. Like being married to Sloan isn’t enough. Now, I’m Torelli’s pet. Wonderful.

  Her gaze returned to Torelli. She shuddered. His stare was hungry as he studied the parts of her visible over the tabletop. He licked a stray drop of gravy from his lips as he smiled, obviously pleased with himself. Abbey’s heart pounded in her chest. She was easily a lamb among a pack of wolves. She had to get out of there fast.

  “Abbey?”

  She nearly fell out of her seat as she spun around to face whoever had called her. Bartholomew stood behind her, warily inspecting each of her dinner companions. “Yes, B?”

  “We need to go over the evidence we’ve gathered so far when you’re finished eating.”

  Abbey scooped her dishes quickly onto her tray. “I’m done now. We can go.”

  “Abbey, wouldn’t you like me to show you around the camp? There are some sights you sure aren’t going to want to miss,” Torelli invited.

  Abbey shrugged. “It’s the CIA. Sorry. Maybe another time. Got to go. Bye.” She scampered off to dispose of her trash then followed Bartholomew outside before Torelli could even stand up. She exhaled slowly as the hot Afghanistan air hit her face.

  “What was that?” Bartholomew demanded.

  “I really don’t know. I did my best to ditch Torelli, but before I knew it, he and his lackeys were surrounding me.”

  “Avoid him at all costs, Abs. He’ll do anything to tear you and Sloan apart and end this mission. He doesn’t like sharing Lathrop’s attention with Sloan. Before we got here, his project was the big thing in camp. He even got his company to coerce the military to extend their contract. Not to mention, that guy makes it a habit to get pretty girls in his bed then end their careers.”

  “No worries. I’m keeping my distance. The way he looks at me gives me the creeps.”

  “Good.”

  “So, are we meeting up with Sloan to discuss the mission?”

  “No. Let’s just say Sloan is not in the mood to discuss anything.”

  Abbey sighed. “I had that feeling. He seemed pretty humiliated.”

  “That’s putting it lightly. Watching you leave with Torelli wasn’t easy either ….”

  “There’s something about Torelli. He has a strange amount of pull around here. I think he might know something about the weapons. Plus can you imagine the scene he would have if I said no?”

  “I know. I get it. Really, Sloan does too. But it still hurts.”

  “So, you’re getting me up to date with the mission?”

  “Sure. We don’t have squat. The few abnormalities we’ve found have led to nothing. At the rate we’re going, we’ll still be here after our kids graduate from high school. We’ve got to step things up.”

  “That’s it? That’s the update?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “You couldn’t tell me that later?”

  “Would you like to go back and finish having dinner with Torelli? Maybe go on his tour?” Bartholomew winked at her as he grinned.

  Abbey got his message loud and clear. “No. I’m good.”

  “Want to go play cards in my quarters? We can hide away the rest of the evening. Torelli will think we’re in a high-level meeting.”

  “Sounds great to me.”

  “This way, my lady.” Bartholomew motioned toward his cabin with a mock bow. Laughing, Abbey walked along with him. Finally, she’d have a moment of fun. She just hoped none of her commanders would find a way to ruin it.

  Chapter Five

  Twilight fell on the Afghanistan desert. Abbey strolled among the buildings as she looked up at the stars. The high-pitched chatter in the women’s barracks drove her crazy. She needed to get away. But that wasn’t the only reason she was out for a walk. Curiosity had gotten the better of her, and if it meant she was closer to going home, it was worth a look.

  She sighed. Sloan hadn’t spoken to her for two days. There was no doubt why. Seeing her alone with Torelli had to be eating him alive. It didn’t take much to set off Sloan’s imagination. When Torelli invited himself to have supper with her, it had to have made her husband’s blood boil. Add in the humiliation he had suffered in front of the captain of the camp, and now, he barely spoke a word to anyone but Bartholomew, not even his wife.

  Her feet wandered past the structures to the isolated part of the camp where the metal shipping containers laid in wait. Others in the camp told her that they were the same
six vessels that arrived when the camp was opened. Abbey knew different. One morning when she had taken her post early, she had watched someone switch the last container out. And recently, she had noticed that, while normally every box was a rusty red color, there was a powder blue one mixed among the others.

  It was odd that they were switched when nearly the entire camp was asleep. That was, unless they held illegal arms. As she studied the one beside her, Abbey nodded to herself. It was time to find out.

  She slowly scanned the first container, looking for any kind of opening to peek inside. Each one was locked tight with a padlock. The first showed no sign of weakness. Neither did the second or third. Abbey grinned as she spied the fourth, seeing a large patch of rust near the back, right corner. One good, solid kick…

  “What are you doing, little O’Riley?”

  Abbey spun toward the voice, finding Torelli leaning against the first container watching her, his arms crossed over his broad chest. “Just taking a walk.”

  “What are you doing out here? This area is restricted.”

  “It is not. There is nothing restricted in this camp.”

  Torelli crossed the space dividing them with only a couple large steps. He hovered over her like a dark, cold shadow. “You still shouldn’t be back here nosing around. This area is remote. Bad things could happen to you. Maybe I should let Lathrop and your husband know you’re snooping around.”

  “Go ahead. All I’m doing is taking a walk. I wanted a change of scenery. No harm there…”

  Torelli grinned, the expression pure evil as he caressed her cheek with his hand. “Or I can discipline you myself. Here. Except what I have in mind is far from punishment.”

  Abbey pulled away from him, backing herself into a container. “You are a contractor. You aren’t my commander. I’d rather you rat me out to Sloan for my supposed transgressions.”

  “That may not be an option.”

  “I can guarantee it will be.” Dodging around Torelli, Abbey sprinted away, not stopping until she reached her bunk. Jumping between the sheets, she cuddled her pillow, waiting for Sloan to come yell at her. He told her to talk to others. He told her to listen for information. He was very clear that she shouldn’t go looking for trouble. I know it’s for my own good. This camp is big and things can happen quickly. He’s just trying to protect me. I wish he would kiss me though.