Dangerous in Action (Aegis Group Alpha Team, #2)

by Sidney Bristol

  “Shit...”

  “He built a system that catered to the rich men who could support the cult and created prisoners of the women. He actively tried to force abortions on anyone who was carrying a boy, and the babies that made it to term were often abandoned.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because they were competition. You can’t offer a rich man membership to your cult and promise him a dozen, nubile wives if there are boys growing up, expecting to have an equal split of the women. That’s how the trafficking began. That was how he messed up. He brought too many men in, too soon. He needed more wives, which meant abducting more women. You can’t kidnap dozens of women and churn through them without someone asking questions. Dad got greedy, end of story.”

  “How old were you when he was stopped?”

  “Fourteen. I was engaged when I was thirteen, but my husband-to-be had to go to America for a surgery and there were complications. I’d just been engaged to someone else when they shut us down.”

  “I can’t imagine...”

  “It’s in the past.” Or at least that’s what she told herself any time the nightmares began.

  “One of the reports says that their first tip as to what was going on there came from a young girl.”

  Tanya swallowed.

  “What did you do?” Isaac asked.

  “What makes you think it was me?” She shifted, leaning away from him.

  “Because the kind of girl who signals an international investigation is the same kind of person who’d grow up to do some pretty intense undercover work.”

  She couldn’t admit the truth. Every time they spoke, she said too much. She was tired, worn out, exhausted to the point that even sleep was difficult. If she started talking she’d lay it all out for him. There was a reason none of the reports stated her identity. She’d gone on to be a key witness in a number of cases. The rest of the kids she’d grown up with were able to have normal lives, but not her.

  “I just want to help you, cupcake.” Isaac’s hand closed around hers, giving her a little squeeze.

  “Stop asking questions.” And catching her unaware.

  “But that’s what I do best.”

  “Then I need to stop talking to you.”

  “You don’t really want to do that.” He laced their fingers together.

  The feel of his bigger hand wrapped around hers was oddly comforting. It was still a dominant hold, but other than when Isaac had hauled her out of the garden and into the van, he’d been gentle. He’d held her. Let her lean on him. To gain her confidence? She didn’t think it was that simple.

  “Did you sleep at all?” he asked.

  “No.” She leaned her head on his shoulder, easing into the desire to let him carry some of the burden. “I’m too tired to sleep.”

  “You need to rest. We’re all here to protect you.”

  “And dig up my secrets.”

  “We’ll be careful.”

  “Why should I trust you?” She wanted to beg him for a reason, something she could hold onto, but that would be weakness, wouldn’t it?

  “Because I’d hazard to guess that we’re on the same side.”

  “You don’t know that for certain.”

  “Sure I do. You’ve told me.”

  “You can’t take anything I say as truth, though.”

  “That’s why we’re digging, remember?”

  She swallowed and let her eyes go fuzzy. Her secrets should be buried so deep that no one could discover who and what she truly was. If they could, they were either far more skilled than they should be, or her secrets weren’t as protected as she hoped. Either way, if or when Isaac learned all about her, it would be the end of the road.

  “I think everything will be better after a nap,” Isaac’s soft voice, his warm hand, they relaxed her, but not enough to lure her to sleep.

  Tanya was too restless to sleep.

  When was the last time she’d really slept?

  The afternoon Quade died. She’d had a long nap after being up most of the night planting the tracking devices. Orlando had believed her when she’d said she had a migraine. It was the last time she’d closed her eyes and been at peace. Since then, she’d literally been sleeping with one eye open for fear of being caught unaware. It was doubtful that if she were in a room alone she’d relax enough to sleep.

  “Would you consider staying here long enough for me to fall asleep?” She hated asking, but if she didn’t sleep soon, she’d begin to hallucinate.

  “I thought you were asleep last time. How am I supposed to know you aren’t playing possum?”

  “I guess you won’t. Never mind.”

  “How about we both take a nap? That way it doesn’t matter if you decide to stay awake.”

  “Do you have time for that?”

  “I’ve got all the time in the world for you, cupcake.”

  Tanya chose to not respond to that line. Isaac was assigned to her, that much she knew, and right now she needed someone in her corner. If it was him, so be it. She’d take the comfort he offered.

  She shifted until she lay on her side, facing away from Isaac. The bed dipped under his weight, and his body heat seeping through her clothes was enough warning for her to brace for contact. He slid his hand around her waist, holding her gently. A simple touch that reminded her in the darkness that she wasn’t alone. Isaac was there and he had her back. There wasn’t anyone who’d fought for her like he had in a very long time. If she could trust anyone, she’d pick him. Which was likely what his team was hoping for, but there it was.

  “Stop thinking and sleep,” Isaac whispered.

  “I’m trying.”

  He pulled her back against him. She crammed the pillow a bit more under her neck. Despite playing the part of Orlando’s preferred girl for well over a year, it’d been a very long time since she’d slept with another person. She hoped, for Isaac’s sake, the nightmares didn’t visit.

  7.

  Epping, United Kingdom.

  Robert stared at the name flashing on his phone.

  Every time he saw that name, he feared the worst. Donna was a good woman, but she had a temper. If she got crossways with Orlando, who knew what would happen?

  “Hello?” Robert pressed the phone to his ear.

  “How do I know you never knew it was Tanya?” Orlando’s tone was warm, curious. He’d likely drank himself silly.

  “I told you, the only person who knew the identity of the other agent was Quade. I can’t find anything on her.” Robert turned, pacing the living room of his empty house.

  “That can’t be. Someone trained her. People would have worked with her. How did you not know?”

  “All I was told was that she was a clean slate, someone unconnected to anyone. Whoever trained her doesn’t claim her.”

  “You answer to someone. Who is it?”

  “How many times are you going to ask me this? I was given this assignment by a joint task force. Your old friends want their dog back on its leash.”

  “If the Americans or Brits trained her, I’d have found out about it before now.” Orlando’s voice grew quieter, as though he weren’t addressing Robert. “You’re right. The Israelis or the Koreans were most likely involved. They never liked me much.”

  Robert jotted down Orlando’s musings with some of his own notes. It all went into the notebook he’d started the day Donna disappeared. Orlando’s questions focused on Quade, Tanya, and who they worked for, never what they’d passed on. Which meant that Orlando’s business up until a point was done. He didn’t fear Tanya’s knowledge on what he was planning, because he hadn’t decided what to do yet?

  “We had fun in Korea, didn’t we?” Orlando whispered.

  Robert kept his mouth shut.

  Orlando had, by all accounts, maintained a tenuous connection to reality since his sister’s death. That thread could very well snap, and then he’d be a mad man with the means to incite a world war.

  “You wouldn’t happen to have a le
ad on a good hit man, would you?” Orlando asked.

  “That’s... I don’t have contacts in that world.”

  “What good are you to me, then?” Orlando sighed and muttered something. “What does Tanya know?”

  “She’s trained—”

  “I’m not speaking to you,” Orlando snapped.

  Robert’s teeth clicked together. He’d almost said too much.

  “I think... I think I’ll make her life difficult,” Orlando said.

  Poor Tanya. Robert had never met her, but he’d read her reports. Her intel and insight were valuable, but he could do nothing to help her. Not without killing his wife.

  Friday. London, United Kingdom.

  Isaac drifted awake bit by bit. The bed was the most comfortable thing he’d ever lain on. So why was he fully dressed? Wasn’t that a crime against luxury or something?

  He cracked an eye open.

  Light emanated from the partially closed bathroom door and steam billowed out.

  He checked the clock. It was the middle of the night. They’d slept away the late afternoon and evening hours.

  Great.

  The others would know by default where he was at.

  Usually, it didn’t bother him. He’d never hidden the fact that some of their assets, and even clients, liked the fantasy of bedding the bodyguard, but Tanya was different. She was a person with her back to a corner and nothing left. She needed them in a way that was more important than possibly any job he’d been part of to date.

  For that reason, he wanted to protect her. Help her. Believe in her.

  He rolled out of bed, his stomach growling, and swayed on his feet. Going by how much Tanya had eaten earlier yesterday, she had to be as hungry—if not hungrier—than him.

  Room service would cost an arm, leg, and likely a nut, but then again he wasn’t footing the bill. Orlando was. Might as well take advantage of what they could for as long as it was an option.

  “Tanya?” Isaac crossed to the door, but didn’t look in.

  No answer.

  The shower spat water on the tile floor of the stall, but other than that there was no other sound. If Tanya were washing up there should be different noises, splatters, splashing.

  It wouldn’t be the first time she’d tried to trick him. The idea of being lured in here by her didn’t sit well with him. How much more would it take for her to trust them? Or was she guilty?

  “Tanya? You in there?”

  Isaac stepped to the side, pulled the bathroom door open and got a face full of steam. It dissipated after a moment.

  Still no Tanya.

  Little warning bells went off in the back of his head. Something wasn’t right.

  He stepped on the tile, damp with condensation, and peered at the glass walls of the shower. Water beaded on the inside clouding the view within, but there was no mistaking the figure slumped against the side.

  “Tanya! Hey.” Isaac bolted across the floor and yanked the glass door open. He stepped in, shielding her with his body.

  Her legs were drawn up tight to her chest and her arms were wrapped around her knees. Her shoulders shuddered. The constant beat of the water muted her hushed sobs. This close, there was no mistaking them.

  “Hey, hey, hey.” He knelt next to her, ignoring the water soaking his clothes, and reached for her. “Tanya?”

  “Go away.” Her voice broke on each word and she didn’t look at him.

  He reached out and grabbed the robe hanging on a hook.

  “Come on, let’s get you out of here.” He draped it over her nude body.

  “Isaac...” She lifted her head long enough to level a red-eyed glare at him.

  Good, she knew who he was and likely where.

  “I know, I’m an asshole.” He scooped her up and edged out of the shower, careful to keep the spray of water off her.

  He carried Tanya to the vanity and set her down on the edge. She tucked the robe around her and drew herself up to her full height. The haughty picture was ruined by the too-large robe and tendrils of hair sticking to her face. Her red, puffy eyes betrayed how long she’d been in there. Either she was really good at tiptoeing around or he’d been that tired to not hear her.

  Isaac spared a moment to and shut the shower off and snag two towels.

  “That’s one hell of a way to wake up.” He rubbed one towel over his face and head.

  “You didn’t have to do that.” Tanya accepted the other towel and began drying her hair, but her heart wasn’t in it. The set of her mouth, the crease of her brow... She was struggling.

  “I didn’t know if you were having another panic attack or what.”

  “It wasn’t a panic attack. I don’t have panic attacks.” She swiped the back of her hand across her cheeks. “It was just a dream.”

  Isaac swallowed down his urge to call bullshit and merely nodded. He’d seen the lost, almost disoriented dilation of her eyes, how erratic her breathing was, all of it. Her denial didn’t change things, but she needed to hold onto something, so he’d let her believe the lie for now.

  “A dream?” he asked.

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  The hell he wouldn’t.

  Isaac braced his hands on the sink and stared into the porcelain bowl. He needed to get through to Tanya. So far, the normal tricks hadn’t worked. He’d built some rapport with her, but not enough. If he wanted her to be real and honest with him, he had to go there first.

  “About once every five weeks, I dream about the day my brother had his head blown off.”

  Tanya went still. He was hyper-aware of her head turning, eyes boring into the side of his head. He lifted his chin and glanced at her, taking in the slack jawed stare.

  “Sorry... Not trying to one up you or anything, just... I’m trying to say...I understand dreams you don’t want to have.”

  “I’m sorry about your brother,” Tanya said.

  “Yeah, me too. He was the good one”

  “Better than you? Is that possible?” She tilted her head to the side.

  “Hey, now, you’ve only seen me at my best.” He smiled, glad he’d gotten her to think about something other than whatever terrorized her. Even if he did have to mention his deceased brother.

  Tanya stared at him a moment longer, her gaze warm. The corners of her mouth quirked up. She glanced away first, covering half her face with her hand.

  “Did you fall? Hit your head?” Isaac cupped her chin.

  “No.” She pulled out of his grasp.

  “Just a bad dream?” He leaned against the vanity at her side, her knee brushing his hip.

  “Yes, okay?”

  “You want to talk about it?”

  “Would you want to talk about your dream?”

  “Sometimes I do, but no one really wants to listen anymore.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he died years ago, and everyone else wants to move on all ready.”

  “But not you?”

  “I have what’s called classic survivor’s guilt.” He smiled, but it was forced.

  “I’m glad you’re here, for what it’s worth.”

  “Your turn. What woke you up?”

  Tanya hugged her arms around herself. She didn’t have to confide in him, but he wanted her to.

  “It’s stupid,” she whispered.

  “I doubt it.”

  “It is. And it’s always the same. I’m sleeping, but I hear footsteps. Heavy ones. I wake up, crawl under my bed to hide, and the footsteps keep coming. It’s an unending loop. At some point, I wake up covered in sweat and realize it wasn’t real. It’s stupid.”

  “A standard form of torture is exposing someone to the same thing over and over again. A song. A show. Something that drives people nuts because they can’t stop it. I imagine the tension of lying in the dark, listening to ominous footsteps has the same affect.”

  “So I’m torturing myself.”

  “That’s not what I said. Terrible things happened to you—”
<
br />   “Yeah, but, if I were diagnosing myself,” she flattened her hand to her chest, “this is self-inflicted.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because...I helped bring other women and girls into Dad’s twisted mess.”

  “That wasn’t your fault. You were a kid.”

  “Doesn’t change the fact that there are women out there who wouldn’t have been violated if it weren’t for me.”

  “I want to tell you that you were a kid, and you were in a no-win situation. If you didn’t do what you were told, you might not be alive, you might not have brought the authorities in... But, I also get not letting it go.” He turned and leaned on the vanity, staring at the glossy tiles across the room. “They tell you all the things you should feel, how to get better, but it never really works, does it?”

  “No.”

  Tanya sniffled and lifted a trembling hand to her cheek.

  “Hey. Look at me?” He took her hand, squeezing it tight enough she couldn’t shake.

  She didn’t meet his gaze, but she did peer at him through her lashes.

  “You’re a strong person, cupcake. You don’t get to be this strong without taking some big hits. I can’t say it will for sure get better, but I’m here for you, okay?”

  She jerked her head.

  “Good.” He smiled and rolled his options around a moment. “You still want me to leave you alone or—”

  “Hug me?”

  “I can do that.”

  Isaac leaned in and folded his arms around her. She held onto him, burying her face in the crook of his neck. Her body shuddered, but she didn’t cry. He squeezed tighter, as though he could fit all those cracks back together.

  Undercover was a hard gig. Abigail had spoken briefly in his presence about the fracturing that could happen to an agent who spent too long under the stress of a job. It’d sounded like an odd theory at the time, but now holding Tanya and listening to her, Isaac understood far better than he wanted to.