Her eyes went wide as she took in everything he’d just said. And maybe he should be worried. She’d had plenty of opportunity to tell him that she loved him, but she hadn’t. Yet he could tell how she felt from the way she looked at him, from the way she’d looped her hand through his arm, from the way she pressed her forehead to his bicep.
“Shouldn’t we start with dating?” she asked playfully.
“Hey. I took you to the gun range. And we’ve been dating on and off for fifteen years.”
Now she did laugh. “So you’re saying we’ve just been on a really long freaking break?”
Mac pressed his lips to hers, longer this time. Hotter. Stirring up feelings that told him he should just bundle her up and get her back to his apartment as quickly as he could. They had a lot of reconnecting to do, and he always did his best connecting naked.
“Hey, guys, sorry to interrupt your lovefest.” Louisa stepped out onto the patio. “Mac, I think we have a problem. That formula you sent me. It’s the same one that was stolen from me. And there’s only one other person who would know what that formula is.”
* * *
In the thirty-six hours since Louisa had informed them that the sample she had created, the one that Russian mobsters had stolen from her, was the weapon being sold on the black market, Eagle Securities had become a hive of intelligence and surveillance.
With Delaney’s investigative skills, Louisa’s knowledge of chemistry, and a group of armed and capable SEALs with foreign language skills and intelligence networks, they were closing in on the perpetrators. Leftover pastries from breakfast were slowly going stale on a plate in the middle of the conference table; a large map of California was pinned to the wall, covered in pins of information; and that unmistakable, slightly gross smell that always came about when too many were trapped in too small a space for too long had settled into the room.
Plus, the garbage can was close to overflowing, but nobody had a moment to deal with it.
Delaney walked to the door and kicked the wedge to prop the door open in the hope that this time it would work and give them a little fresh airflow.
Louisa, sitting at a desk tucked away in the corner, was on the phone to yet another supplier of equipment that would be required to manufacture the drug she’d created. At Delaney’s suggestion, they’d researched the equipment required to create an airborne chemical weapon. With Louisa’s industry clout and incredible brain that could look up, interpret, and understand the manufacturing methods of toxic chemical weapons of everything from Sarin and Tabun in World War II to more modern drugs like Novichok agents and Ricin, she’d come up with some interesting hypotheses. For instance, developing countries would probably only have access to cheap dispersion methods, like spray tanks attached to low-flying planes, which had Delaney pulling out the orders she’d seen shipped for “agricultural” helicopters. Everything was being cross-referenced to ensure that every feasible avenue was covered.
Delaney, with Bailey’s help, was creating a list of vendors who sold the types of equipment necessary to both manufacture and disperse the chemical aerially. With the help of Miller, the sniper and tech expert from Cabe’s team, who was hacking company files to retrieve orders and delivery addresses, she was also able to find out which companies and individuals were buying that kind of equipment.
Cabe and Ryder were taking the names of all the companies doing the buying, and were researching them for legitimacy so that they could come up with a short list of companies that looked to be shells, companies that had been open only a short period of time or ones that had any flags to suggest they were anything other than regular businesses.
Ghost and Harley were plowing through property rentals and sales, cross-referencing them to licenses to produce hazardous materials. It was a long shot that these chemicals were being produced legitimately, but in the same way Al Capone was sent away for tax evasion instead of all the crazy shit he’d done, it was always possible that they’d be tripped up over leases, licenses, and permissions. The names on the leases were being checked against the list that Cabe and Ryder were compiling.
Which left Mac and Sherlock to find the whereabouts of all the key players in the puzzle. They were standing in front of a whiteboard filled with a giant hierarchy of individuals, both ones above and around Lemtov. Mac was staring at Ivan Popov.
“You want to tell me why this guy has you concerned?” Delaney asked.
Sherlock cast a look toward Mac and then turned back to his laptop. There was clearly something she didn’t know. Louisa and Mac had been whispering about Popov earlier, and if Delaney wasn’t mistaken, they’d looked at her while they were speaking. So, she’d made her excuses to go to the washroom then googled “Ivan Popov.” His grandfather had been arrested the previous year—right around the time Six had met Louisa. Some distant family member had been brought in to manage the lab where Louisa had formerly worked. But Ivan Popov appeared to have disappeared into the ether.
“He should be a dead man, that’s all I know,” Mac said, rubbing his hand across his day-old stubble.
Delaney had a feeling there was more to it than that. “You want to tell me why you’re so confident he should be a dead man? As opposed to a man who is missing? A man whose grandfather was arrested as part of the plot to abduct Louisa has been missing from their family business for roughly the same period Six and Louisa have been dating?”
Mac looked over at her. “Shit. Okay, go to my office. I’ll be there in a second.”
Delaney wandered across the hall to Mac’s highly organized office, but stopped to cast a glance over her shoulder. Mac was leaning in close to Louisa. She nodded her head, and Mac placed a hand on her shoulder.
“You doing okay, Delaney?” Ghost said, suddenly appearing in the doorframe.
She jumped. “Oh my gosh. You’re as bad as Mac. Stealth should be your middle names.”
“Nah, whatever it is, I’m better than Mac,” he said, his tone teasing. “So you and the boss, huh?”
“Me and the boss, what?”
“Never mind,” he said, a shy smile on his face. “I was kind of hoping that maybe you’d consider going out to dinner with me if you guys aren’t serious. I kinda enjoyed hanging out with you while Mac was away. Are you? Serious, I mean?”
“I think we might be,” she said without malice.
“Might be what?” Mac asked stepping up behind Ghost.
Ghost’s smile slipped a little, and Delaney realized she could make things right.
“Making progress … on where all the players are,” she offered, holding her hand out toward Mac, who took it without thinking. It was an easy situation to clean up. Ghost needed to know she wasn’t interested, but she wasn’t comfortable throwing him under the bus in front of his boss.
“Yeah. Hopefully we’ll nail that down today.” Mac turned to Ghost. “Did you get all those licenses worked through?”
Ghost looked down at where her hand was joined with Mac’s. “Just about. I’ll take you through them when you’ve finished in here.” He left the room as quickly as he’d appeared.
Mac closed the door behind him and then pressed her up against it. “One second. Then I’ll get serious,” he said before kissing all the breath out of her lungs. It was instant, the connection between them. She felt as though someone had connected her to a live battery. When this was over, she was going to suggest to Mac that they take a vacation. Somewhere hot and sunny, where he could cover her in sunscreen with those large hands of his and they could laze on a lounge together as they got to know one another again.
“Sorry,” Mac said, although the look in his eyes said more about taking her clothes off than apology. “Okay. Ivan Popov. Yes, he’s the guy who stole the formula Louisa created. He was her lab partner. It was a drug she was working on to prevent the chorea movement of Huntington’s, but it was a failure in that it was too successful in its trial. Instead of just stopping the shaking movements of the disease, it caused paralysis from
a mobility standpoint but not from a pain and comprehension standpoint, making it a perfect airborne chemical weapon.”
“I already gathered all that from the conversation we had yesterday. Oh, and the discreet looks you and your guys are throwing every time I mention the name are about as subtle as the Incredible Hulk ripping the roof off this building to let a little air in. I want to know what’s going on.” She could feel her temper rise, and a rush of heat hit her cheeks.
“To save Louisa, we had to work closely with the CIA to attempt to put some people away in prison for a while, and there was some collateral damage. And while none of us killed Ivan, we believed he was caught up in the fire because we never saw him leave the building before it all went down, though no body was ever recovered.”
Collateral damage. He killed someone. A stupid thought. Of course he’d killed someone. He was a SEAL. Those guys racked up confirmed kills, not to mention ones that didn’t hit official radars. But this … this had happened on U.S. soil. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
“You want to know why I didn’t tell you, Delaney? That look right there on your face. The one that says it shouldn’t have happened. That you’re horrified.”
“No,” she said, quickly. “It’s just … I’m processing. Give me a minute to catch up.”
“You shouldn’t need a minute to catch up.” Mac rubbed his hands along his stubble. “You either inherently believe I am a good man, with integrity, and honor, and courage. Or you believe I killed someone in cold blood for kicks.”
“Mac. That wasn’t what I said. I just … It’s a lot to take in. I mean, I guess I knew what this was all about,” she said, swirling her finger in the air to gesture around the building. “But this is U.S. soil, you can’t just—”
“Can’t just what? Save Louisa’s life? Save her mom’s life? Get rid of some low-grade scumbags who attempted to kidnap her so they couldn’t come back and hurt her again?”
“I’m sorry … I should have realized what you do. I thought I did, but I guess it was only at a superficial level.”
Mac shook his head. “Shouldn’t make any difference, Delaney. You either know who I am or you don’t.”
She did know who he was. But she had questions, ones she had a feeling he wouldn’t answer. Like where it happened, how many people were killed, what the circumstances were. She didn’t recall it being reported and was concerned it had been swept under the carpet by the CIA, which flew in the face of her beliefs about freedom of the press and right to public disclosure. She needed the answers to those questions before she could decide whether what she had heard bothered her. It was her job. It was the way she had always dealt with things. Gather the facts, assess them, determine the headline, and scope out the meat of the story before deciding which side she fell into.
“Mac, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that I think less of you, but … goddamn … I’m just trying to make sense of this.”
“There shouldn’t be any ‘buts,’ Delaney.”
There was a ruckus in the hallway and the door burst open. “First,” Six said, his usually stubbled chin now showing signs of a beard, “I’m going to find my woman and hug the shit out of her. Then I’m coming back here to kick your ass for dragging her into whatever shit you’ve dragged her into. Fair?”
Mac shrugged. “Fair.”
Six marched across the hallway, and she heard Louisa’s squeal as she noticed him. Mac made a move to follow him.
“Wait,” she said, gripping his hand as he made a move to walk by. “We should talk.”
“Not now,” Mac said. “My friend just got back from a shithole, and I need to do for you what we did for Louisa. Unless it’s too distasteful for you.”
Delaney shook her head. “Now you’re putting words in my mouth. I never said that.” Her stomach sank. The happy, carefree Mac who’d pushed the door closed and kissed her like his life depended on it had been replaced by the SEAL Mac.
He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Maybe. But I haven’t heard a word of support.”
“I want the people alive so they can be arrested and tried, so their organizations can be dismantled. I don’t know that killing them is the right thing to do. That only takes down one person. Their testimonies could take down entire structures.”
“And because you want the story?” Mac accused.
Delaney took a deep breath. “Yes, I do.”
“Well, I want you fucking alive.” Mac stepped out of her reach but paused in the doorframe. “I’d prefer them alive, too, for all the reasons you said, but keeping you safe will always be my first objective, no matter how little you think of me for keeping you that way.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Two goddamn steps forward and one back. Maybe that was how he and Delaney were destined to be. Maybe it would take them a lifetime, or more time than either of them had, to get their relationship over the line, no matter how badly he wanted it.
He hadn’t seen that coming. Well, maybe he’d always known that the story was at the top of her priority list, but he’d never imagined her looking down on him because of the lengths to which he’d had to go to protect his brothers and his country. To protect Louisa. Or the lengths to which he’d go to protect her.
When he entered the room, Louisa was in Six’s arms, her legs around his waist, her head buried in the crook of his shoulder. Jealousy surged through him so fiercely that he could feel its searing heat. Not because he had any emotions for Louisa, or resented Six his luck at finding the perfect woman for him, but because they both had what he wanted.
Six kissed her one more time then lowered her to her feet. “One sec, Lou,” he said, before turning and sucker punching Mac in the stomach.
“Oomph!” Mac shouted. “What the fuck!” He grabbed his ribs, sucking in air, thankful that Six hadn’t put his full weight behind the hit. “That was a low blow.”
“Yeah, so was not telling me this shit was going down,” Six said, pulling Lou back under his arm.
Cabe walked into the office. “Hey, man. You’re back,” he said to Six.
Six pulled the exact same move on Cabe that he’d pulled with Mac, and the two of them began to brawl, much to the cheering and chanting of the guys on the team.
Delaney entered the room and hurried over to Louisa. “What the hell? Mac, stop them,” she said.
Mac shook his head, but it was Louisa who stopped Delaney. “Apparently, they’ve been fighting like this since they were five years old. You missed the punch Six laid on Mac, but he wasn’t in the mood to fight back. Right, Mac?”
He looked over at Delaney. “One more sucker punch today wasn’t going to hurt.” It was bitter, but it was all he had right now.
She flinched—either under the weight of his stare or the truth hitting home.
Finally, Cabe and Six stopped long enough to hug it out. “Good to have you home, brother,” Cabe said, gasping for breath.
Six was doubled over. “Didn’t think this was the type of physical activity I was going to get to welcome me home.” He winked at Louisa, who rolled her eyes.
Cabe blanched. “TMI. Those are things I don’t want to know about.”
“Assuming I can’t just whisk Lou out of here, can the three of us catch up?” Six said, looking between Mac and Cabe. “My office?”
“Sure thing,” Cabe said, and they filed behind him. “As long as you shower as soon as we’re done. You stink.”
Mac finally laughed. He could always rely on his brothers to break the tension.
Once the door to Six’s office was closed, they relayed the story of everything that happened while they’d been apart. How Delaney had been smart enough to outwit the assailant, and how she’d come to have the chemical information in her hands.
“I wish I could say that if I’d known it would lead us back to what happened to Lou in the summer, I wouldn’t have asked Lou for a consult,” Mac said, as he perched on the edge of the low unit that doubled as Six’s filing cabinet. “But
the truth is, I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
Six rubbed his hand across his jaw and yawned. “I get it, Mac. But this,” he said, pointing to the conference room. “This isn’t Lou.”
The guy was tired, but Mac knew he’d never complain, never let it interfere with what needed to be done. He wondered if he should illustrate that point to Delaney. “I think Lou might be coming out of her shell. When we first got her over here, she holed up in your office—which is why it looks so goddamn organized.” Mac smiled as he remembered the first time Louisa had come to the Eagle offices and had rearranged the books on the shelves into alphabetical order.
“Yeah,” added Cabe. “But then yesterday, she just appeared in the other room. Pulled a desk into the corner so she was out of the way, but she put herself in there.”
“Did she really?” Six said with a grin. “Want to see something totally crazy?” he asked, reaching into the rucksack he’d used as a carry-on. His hand appeared with a box in it. A ring box. “Used the time during the Dubai stopover to do a little shopping. Not going to propose just yet, but I do intend to do it.” He grinned as he opened the box to reveal a simple solitaire on a narrow band.
“Holy shit,” Cabe said as he jumped to his feet and hugged Six. “Best news, brother.”
Mac stood too. “It’s perfect for Lou. She’s gonna love it.” He slapped Six’s shoulder.
“When are you going to do it?” Cabe asked quietly. “Because I’ll tell you, it’s the craziest feeling in the world.”
Mac fell quiet. He’d been so excited by Six’s news that he’d forgotten that it had been only eighteen months since Cabe’s fiancée had been killed by an IED while deployed.
“Shit man,” Six said. “I’m sorry. I should have thought about how this would—”
“Nah,” Cabe said, brushing Six’s comment aside as if it was nothing, although a little cough at the end gave him away. “It’s good news. And it had to happen to the two of you eventually. It’ll be Mac next up before we know it.”
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