This was the Charlie she hid behind.
Was the smile an act?
"What's your real name?" I asked, taking the seat opposite her at the table.
"I can't tell you that," she replied, head tilted to the side as she surveyed me, waiting for my next attack.
I refused to look at Jason; his self-righteous raised eyebrow would have been too fucking much.
"Why can't you tell me?" I asked the obvious.
"If I tell you, then I'd have to kill you," she quipped with that too fucking adorable smile.
Was she actually having fun with this?
"Tell me this at least," I said, leaning forward over the table and meeting her eyes. It wasn't hard; I could have looked at her all day. Douche. "Is Charlie real?"
She hesitated. I'd practically struck gold on the third question and I didn't know why. But her recovery was too swift to capitalise on. If I was going to crack this puzzle, without resorting to barbaric measures, I was going to have to be quicker than that.
"It's real," she said finally.
A concession. Or a lie.
"Let's start with something easy," I continued, as I leaned back in my chair, stretching my legs out and getting comfortable. I was far from comfortable, but I'd never let any prick see it; Jason Cain and Nick Anscombe especially. "You're not a Naval Lieutenant, are you?"
"No."
"Do you hold a rank?"
"Yes."
Interesting.
"What is it, Charlie?"
"If I tell you..." She shrugged her shoulders. Jason made a growling sound. We both ignored it.
This was her game, I realised. Ben's assessment had been correct; Charlie was trained not only to deliver the blows, but to take them. There was nothing we could do to her to make her talk unless she wanted to.
I had to make her want to.
My gaze flicked to the camera on the ceiling automatically. My skin itched with what I was about to say. Jason's eyes bore a hole into the back of my neck.
Fuck it!
"Was it all an act?" I asked and saw the moment she understood the hidden question. "The bike ride? Maraetai wharf? Everything?"
"Did it feel like an act?" she whispered back. The words were like fingers stroking over hot skin. They felt real, when I wasn't sure that they were any such thing.
"If you're asking me did it feel good," I said through gritted teeth, "then yeah. Fucking awesome. Anytime you want another taste, firecracker, then let me know. But I have no idea what is real to you, Charlie."
Silence. I watched, fascinated, as a mask slowly lowered down her face. Hiding her behind a shell, a shield, a wall of indifference.
"Here, Stalker?" she said in an exaggerated purr. "I knew you got off on the chance of being seen on that wharf, but in front of cameras? Even I hadn't thought you'd be so kinky."
Ah, damn it! This wasn't going well.
"You want me to leave you two lovebirds alone?" Jase drawled from the corner.
We both startled, clearly forgetting that he'd been there at all.
I closed my eyes and leaned forward in my seat, resting my head in my hands. Stuff this. I was no interrogator. I was nowhere near up to the level this woman would have been trained for. We were good at what we did, because we were survivors. We'd all been through hell to get employed by Nick.
Some of us were ex-military. Some of us ex-cops. Some of us just graduates from the school of hard knocks. But none of us were ex-spies.
That was Charlie. But was she an ex or not? Or was she a rogue? Acting on her own for some nefarious reason known only to herself.
"Why are you here?" I asked the floor. "Why us?"
"Now that's a question I might be able to answer, Stalker," she said softly; no purr, no anger, just straight up.
I lifted my eyes and found her still watching me, but this time the mask was gone. In its place was something far more dangerous; something that made my breath catch and my heart skip a beat and my throat go dry.
This woman was an enigma; tightly controlled, perfectly poised, every emotion usually locked away.
Except now.
Whatever I'd done, I'd cracked her shell. I hadn't even tried.
I looked toward Jason, who just nodded his head in encouragement for me to go on. Go on how? What did I do?
"You were my assignment," Charlie suddenly said, voice rasping slightly as though the admission had pained.
"Assignment?" I asked as Jason repeated, "Were?"
She flicked her eyes to him and then back to me. But didn't say anything. No confirmation one way or the other. With Charlie you got one shot and one shot only.
Miss it at your peril.
"OK," I said. "Why?"
She held my gaze for several lengthy as fuck seconds and then said, "To find out that, we need to go on a hunt."
Hunt. The magic word. Almost enough to distract me.
"Why should we trust you?" I whispered.
She smiled. It didn't light her face up like a glittering jewel as it had done before. This time it reached out and wrapped around my flailing heart and ripped it in two.
"Because without each other, we're as good as dead."
Chapter 17
You Fucking Care
Charlie
I’d said too much. Way the fuck too much. But I couldn’t seem to stop the way my body, my mind, wanted to bend towards Adam. His head in his hands would be an image I carried with me always.
Why? I had no idea. But it hit me in the centre of the chest and made it hard to breathe.
Opening up was the only way I could manage to suck in any air. But this sentimentality - if that’s what it was called - was foreign to me. So I quashed the emotion and couched my admissions with barely enough truth for him to go on.
Adam Savill, I was beginning to realise, was more astute than most people gave him credit, I think.
“The man we’re hunting,” he said into the stunned silence of the room. “Is he hunting you?”
Bingo. A guess, or did he know more than he was letting on?
“There is that possibility,” I allowed.
Jason shifted in the corner of the room, as though he had something to say, but Adam beat him to it. Adam was in charge of this. Out of all of us, Adam was the one in control.
An unusual notion.
“If we’re to work together, Charlie,” he said, “you’re going to have to give us more than that.”
More honesty.
More clarity.
More baring my viscera, my soul, to another human being.
Did he have any idea at all how hard that was?
No one spoke for a good thirty seconds, but silence, my tool of choice for so long now, would not be sufficient here. Adam had found a weakness, and like any well trained operative, he aimed for it with lethal precision.
A hand ran through his hair, fingers gripping slightly before he relaxed them. He shook his head, let out a weighted breath of air. A small flush tainting the light stubble on his cheeks.
I found the shade inordinately attractive.
I found his distress as sharp as any blade.
Floundering under the onslaught of so many different and unfamiliar emotions, my mouth opened before I could stop it. The words tumbling off my lips like poisoned arrows.
“His name is Caleb Hart. He’s very good at what he does. His intentions are unknown, but his presence in Auckland is out of character.”
Adam didn’t even blink at my costly admission; no idea of how many rules I’d broken, how much danger I’d just placed us all in.
“Is he why you’ve been assigned to ASI?” he asked steadily, deep blue eyes clear of emotion, unlike, I was sure, mine.
The shell hadn’t just cracked; it had been obliterated.
I pulled on every reserve I had, pictured just what Caleb could do - what the Director could instruct any of my colleagues to do - and held his level stare.
“Yes and no,” I said, my voice miraculously devoid of any
emotion.
“Break it down for us,” Adam ordered. And it was an order, not a suggestion. Even if I knew how to avoid giving detailed information away, knew how to circumvent an amateur interrogation such as this, I also knew I’d follow the directive.
Too much had been uncovered. Not just me, but why ASI had been chosen and what Wayne Pascoe could represent. How it would all go down was still unknown. And who the Department would use was up for debate.
But my money was on Caleb. And my gut told me I was the tool the Director was going to use to achieve it. What, exactly, that was, I couldn’t yet say.
I needed ASI.
And ASI needed me.
I looked around the room, across the space to Jason, who stood, scowl in place, eyes narrowed in my direction. And then flicked my gaze up to the camera on the ceiling. State of the art, Vivotek fixed dome, 1080P, 2 megapixel, network camera. It would work even if the lights weren’t on.
I spoke directly to it.
“You’ve made a name for yourselves,” I said, knowing Nick Anscombe would be watching and listening; this message was all for him. “You’ve taken down some big players in organised crime throughout New Zealand. Changed the stage, reconfigured the environment. Moulded it, some would say, to suit your ideals. The question has always been, what are Nick Anscombe’s ideals?”
I heard Jason suck in a breath of air. I was surprised it was him who reacted and not Adam. But without looking away from the camera lens I couldn’t check Adam’s facial features. I couldn’t confirm he’d become a statue, a soldier, one better equipped to handle these revelations than an ex-SAS elite.
“Until today, I wasn’t sure what my assignment truly was,” I continued, still eyeing that electronic window into ASI’s brain. “Until today, I believed I was investigating the coincidences. The number of times your firm was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Declan King,” I murmured. “Roan McLaren,” I added. “Mitchell Wallis.
“Amber put it all into perspective for me,” I went on, hoping the IT geek used that backbone I’d sensed she had to weather this storm. “The kingpins you had a hand in bringing down are only as important as their notoriety. They were always going to be brought down. By you. By us. Fuck, even by the Police, if they happened to get lucky enough.”
I shook my head, let out a huff of amusement, even though amused was the last thing I felt right then.
“No. You weren’t in the wrong place, wrong time. You were in the right place, right time. You made yourselves useful. Why? I still don’t know. But you perfectly fit the mould.”
“Whose mould?” Adam asked. Surprising me again with his ability to remain unaffected.
Jason had gone pale. Tension hung in the room from the stillness of that camera dome. I could practically feel Nick Anscombe’s rage though the lens. But Adam was in control. As though he thrived on it. The moment he smelled the shit approaching the fan, saw his co-worker folding, he stepped up to the plate.
It was impressive. It was the epitome of a team at work. One falls behind, the other picks up the slack.
But more disturbingly, it made my heartbeat escalate, my palms sweat, and my mouth go dry.
If he turned that lethal laser beam on me, I wouldn’t stand a chance.
Since when had a civilian ever made me feel anything close to that?
“My employers,” I said, licking my lips. “Don’t ask. I can’t give you names…”
“Charlie,” Adam warned.
“At least, not yet.”
“Why?” And the words were whispered; a cunning shot across my bow. “You know we’re innocent of whatever they’re accusing us of. You know that.”
I shifted in my seat and finally brought my eyes to his. I saw the conviction there; the utter belief that ASI had done no wrong. If I hadn’t already come to that same conclusion myself, the clear faith, the sheer honesty, that stared back at me right then, would have done it.
“My handler will expect an update,” I said, refusing to admit anything that left me vulnerable.
“And what will you tell him?”
“Wrong place, right time.”
Adam stilled. The first time since he’d taken control of this room that I saw a crack in his armour.
“You’d set us up?”
“You’re being hunted,” I said softly. “About to be used. Don’t you want to know why?”
Those disturbing blues searched my face, flicked from eye to eye, cheek to cheek, looking for an answer I didn’t have. What the Director was after, I still didn’t know. But Mal did.
“I suspect two people within my organisation,” I admitted. “There may be more, but for now I am sure of only two.”
“Who?”
I smiled. He knew he’d get no names. Hell, even their names, like mine, could be false. But they existed. They had titles, roles in an operation that the public knew nothing about.
“My handler,” I announced, pausing for the significance of what I was about to say aloud. “And the Director.”
If I’d been a superstitious person, I could have sworn a chill raced down my spine on those two words.
“That doesn’t tell us much, Charlie,” Adam pointed out.
“It tells you more than any other person in this country knows. This is isn’t government sanctioned. If it was, I’d have had a better dossier on you than the one I received.”
His left eye twitched at that admission. No one likes to know their lives are written down in a folder somewhere for others to dissect. I know, because mine is. This wasn’t an unfamiliar emotion I was watching cross his set face. Just one I’d taught myself not to feel again.
“It had holes,” I whispered. “Purposeful holes. I was never meant to figure any of this out.”
“You’re being used too,” he guessed, correctly. “Hunted,” he said in a growl. It wasn’t, I think, because he was pleased to know his hunch of earlier was right. But something else. Something primal. Something personal.
It did all manner of things to my mind. To my formerly emotionless heart.
I nodded slowly.
“Something I’ve done has pissed someone off,” I declared. “Our paths have crossed because of who you are, what you stand for, what you’ve accomplished. And because of something I’ve done.”
“What?”
My head shook from side to side. “If I knew that, I wouldn’t need you.”
Silence.
“How dangerous are these people?” It was Jason’s voice that broke through the thick shroud of quiet.
I turned my head to look at him; he’d stepped away from the wall, and while I watched, he walked to the table and took a chair. Entering the interrogation completely for the first time since we’d all arrived in here.
I looked back up at the camera dome; inviting Nick to join us. But the door to the room remained ominously closed.
“Very,” I said, returning my attention to Cain.
“Like you?” he asked.
I smiled; it was probably wicked. “In a manner of speaking.”
“You pulled your punches,” Adam said out of the blue.
My face spun towards him.
“In the ring.” He held my stare with a challenge; a silent demand to not lie.
“Yes.”
“You could have dropped me sooner.” Not a question, so I didn’t reply. “Probably avoided a hit altogether.”
“I’m not infallible,” I whispered.
“Do they teach you to show vulnerability when your back is to the wall?” Jason demanded.
“Did they teach you?” I shot back.
He shook his head once; stilted, contained, infuriated.
“Then what do you think?” I queried.
“I think you’re nothing like the Army.”
I smiled; this time it would have been amused.
“You are Army?” he said, sounding shocked beyond measure.
I tapped my finger against the surface of the table, my eyes following the movement, my he
art in my throat.
Did I trust these men? No.
Did I believe they were innocent in all of this? Yes.
Could I open myself up and show them what hid behind the façade? Never.
“Caleb Hart is a mirror image of me,” I said instead of answering. “Except, as far as I know, he hasn’t alienated our employer the way I’ve somehow managed to do.”
“Where were you before Auckland?” Adam asked. The question posed in a curious but innocent tone. He had no idea that he’d opened a hornets’ nest.
“You know I can’t say,” I said quietly, in some unreasonable hope I would not offend. I straightened my shoulders, stiffened my back. So much was changing in the span of two days, I would not lower my guard.
“Even though your boss wants you dead?” Jason pressed, slamming that nail home.
I stood up from the table, making the chair scrape across the floor. Both men went for their guns.
I let a strained laugh out. Shook my head and then stepped back from the table, hands raised in the universal sign of surrender.
“This is bigger than me,” I said, voice level, for all intents and purposes, but I could swear I heard a tremble to my ears. “Bigger than you.”
“What is it then, Charlie?” Adam said, removing his hand from his holstered gun. Jason still held his at the ready.
I couldn’t say it. I stood there, looking from one man to the other, knowing the game was up; they knew. They had to know. But saying the words, just like admitting I suspected the Director, took a Herculean amount of effort. I wasn’t sure I had it in me anymore.
They’d been the only family I’d known for ten years. Dysfunctional. Militant. Highly organised. An oxymoron if ever there was one. But the Department was all I knew.
That’s why I’d turned to Ava. That’s why I’d tripped up on Caleb’s sudden appearance.
That’s why saying the Director’s name left me more broken than I had ever felt before in my life.
Unlike Mal, I’d met the Director. I knew him. I cared for him. No one who had met the man could not have felt the same way. He instilled loyalty. He demanded reverence. The man singlehandedly created the Department, handpicked the specialists, gave them guidance and direction and purpose. Gave them a home.
Sweet Seduction Secrets (Sweet Seduction, Book 8): A Love At First Sight Romantic Suspense Series Page 15
