Zero Trace

by Cara Carnes

  Zero Trace

  Cara Carnes

  Heartscape Publishing, Inc.

  Contents

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Untitled

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Zero Trace © 2018 Cara Carnes

  Cover Model: Johnny Kane

  Photography by: Eric Battershell @ Eric Battershell Photography

  Cover Design by Freya Barker at RE&D

  Content Editor: Heather Long

  Copy Editor: Jax Garren

  Proofing: Ink It Out Editing

  For the latest information, subscribe to my newsletter, or join my Facebook Group.

  Created with Vellum

  Acknowledgements

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS AND AUTHOR’S NOTE

  It might take a village to put out a book, but when it comes to The Arsenal I’m beyond blessed to have an army behind me. I wish there were enough pages to thank everyone individually.

  Thank you to my fearless editors, who never fail to knock my words into shape. And my fabulous cover designer for always, always providing gorgeous covers that bring the world to life.

  Thank you to all the experts I’ve reached out to throughout this series. I have learned so much from your expertise, and I thank you for your time and insight. Any errors are entirely mine.

  And to The Cohorts and all the readers who have reached out about this series…You all are beyond fabulous. Your passion for these books, the characters within and the romance genre itself is why I love writing so very much. I hope that I can do justice to the world you’re enjoying.

  ***While The Arsenal series is a romance at its heart, the fiber, blood and bone of this series is a gritty, sometimes dark, and daunting rollercoaster ride of suspense, family, team, and honor. Love isn’t ever an easy road to navigate. While I’ve made every attempt to warn readers of possible triggers, please know there may very well be subject matter within this series that may be difficult to read.***

  1

  Four and a half months ago

  Zoey Dansworth regularly swam in crazy, but she’d tumbled into a new ocean of what-the-hell—one she wasn’t sure she could escape. She’d just exposed a dirty CIA operation her boss at the NSA had been protecting for two years. Maybe longer.

  She stood in her cubical and looked around as her breathing turned labored. Someone would come for her soon.

  Think. Think. Think.

  She forced a couple deep breaths and ignored the squawking phone behind her. No good could come from answering whoever was on the other end.

  One decision had effectively put a target on her back. Eleven grueling years as a data-mining, report-writing grunt at the NSA consumed her like dry tinder in a desert.

  She placed her head into her palms and forced her mind to focus. She’d made the right decision. Hell, she should’ve had the balls to do something about the dirty operation a couple years ago.

  If the Quillery Edge hadn’t sent their teams into the heart of the cesspit the NSA had buried, Zoey never would’ve found the courage to do the right thing. She’d done a lot of messed up things in the name of national security, but not even she was blind enough to let the best team in the covert ops paramilitary arena, or anyone they worked with, get screwed over by greedy assholes.

  She was a civilian, which meant she knew next to nothing about the intense things Viviana Chambers, aka Quillery, and Mary Reynolds, aka The Edge, did. They were the best around for a reason, that reason being they’d never failed a mission.

  Ever.

  It was common knowledge, even amongst the alphabet soup.

  They were with The Arsenal now, another top-notch operation quickly becoming known as the best around, especially since they’d taken out the trash at Hive and then dismantled the Collective like they weren’t the largest black-ops organization in the world—one deemed untouchable.

  The Arsenal hadn’t only touched them—they’d smashed them to smithereens.

  Yep. She’d made the right decision in helping that team. Quillery’s team.

  She’d owed Quillery a huge marker, not that the woman could ever know.

  As far as Quillery knew, Zoey was just another hacker who did her part to take asshats on the dark web and deep web down.

  Zoey had survived leading double lives for over a decade now because she never mixed her paper-pushing job at the NSA with her other world. No one could ever know about her other life.

  Compartmentalization.

  From eight in the morning to six in the evening she was Zoey Dansworth, aka the NSA grunt in cubical 12A. At precisely six p.m. she packed away her day job worries, made a mental list of things to tackle in the morning, and opened the next sector of her world.

  Zero D. Hacker extraordinaire and the mastermind behind an underground network protecting rescued victims of sex trafficking and other atrocities. The hows were complicated and something she could never, ever share with anyone. As long as the network remained anonymous, everyone was safe.

  Compartmentalization. It was Zoey’s first commandment, and she’d violated it in a big, big way because her Zero D persona had owed Quillery. But she’d paid the debt as Zoey and was now up to her neck in trouble.

  Her smarmy boss Ian had issued a very clear threat a while back to mind her own business and stop looking into the dirty CIA operation she’d stumbled across. He wouldn’t appreciate her exposing it to the world.

  She forced a deep breath. She had one choice. She tapped in the phone number she’d memorized earlier, just in case. Sometimes having an eidetic memory came in handy. Hopefully this was one of those times.

  “Zero, what just happened?” Quillery’s voice sliced through the fear crawling up Zoey’s throat. The cool, confident calm radiating from the woman on the other end of the phone demanded Zoey exercise the same emotional state even though she’d only said four words.

  Zero, what just happened?

  “I helped neutralize the problem your team ran into. I’m burned,” she admitted, giving her biggest fear to the woman she’d interacted with only twice before. “I did what I could to keep good men breathing. I hope it’s enough.”

  “It was. They’re en route home, with a few stops to hospitals and military bases along the way.” Silence descended a moment, then Vi continued. “You hung your ass out there for me today, Zero. I won’t forget that. Get yourself secure, get out, and come down here. Edge and I always have room for someone of your caliber. Come help those good teams breathe every day.”

  And there it was. The carefully constructed barrier between her two worlds collapsed beneath the decision she’d made to save The Arsenal team. But she couldn’t let her shitstorm affect the Quillery Edge or The Arsenal. “I’ll have fallout from what I did today. I pissed a lot of people off.”

  “Get up and walk out like nothing is wrong. They won’t move, not right away. Don’t go home. Get in your car and drive to the nearest airport. There’ll be a ticket waiting there for you. If you want, I’ll send an escort to bring you home. We’ve got two teams in the area.”

  “No, I’m good,” she said quickly. “I’
ve gotta go home. I have a cat.”

  A cat? Talk about a lame excuse. But it was the only one she could offer. Only one other person knew what she really did, and that was because he was the brawn and boots on the ground when needed. Jade knew her identity and nothing else.

  So, she would thank fate for giving her an out. Once she got her other life as Zero D secure, she’d get herself down to The Arsenal, which operated in Texas. Zoey had done enough homework to get to their front gate.

  “Walk out and stay somewhere public,” Vi ordered. “There’s a coffee shop down the road from the base. Gage Sanderson will meet you there in one and a half hours. I’m sending you his picture. Don’t trust anyone but him. Get to that coffee shop. Edge and I will have you on surveillance the entire time. I’ve pinged our cell numbers and Gage’s to you. He’ll help you secure your cat and gear. Okay?”

  Her cell buzzed as the man’s image flashed across the screen the moment she dragged her cell away from her ear. God. Talk about handsome. His dark brown hair was just long enough to be deemed sloppy in military standards. Intensity resonated from his deep green gaze. A light smattering of stubble accentuated the ruggedness of his jawline.

  It was foolish to agree because she had an entire world to handle outside her job at the NSA. She had to make sure her network was safe and that no one she protected within it suffered because of what she did today.

  Jade had to be warned.

  Which meant she should refuse the safety net Vi was tossing her, yet she couldn’t force the refusal from her throat. The Quillery Edge wouldn’t ever work with anyone but the very, very best. If they trusted Gage Sanderson, then she would, too.

  They wanted to have her back.

  They wanted her.

  She mentally relisted Viviana, Mary, and a man she’d never met named Gage to Level Two of her mental, personal security protocol system. Only one person had ever made it past Level One and stuck: Jade.

  Everyone else?

  Well, they’d earned VIP passes, then screwed her over and took off.

  Yep, she was pretty damn pathetic when it came to anything outside cubicle 12A and the work she did for the network. She couldn’t classify cubicle 12A as her day job world anymore because her mental compartments had collapsed.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, took a deep breath, and took a leap of faith. She couldn’t risk merging her two worlds, but what choice did she have? She’d figure out a way to keep the network she ran below anyone’s radar. Somehow. “Okay.”

  Zoey entered the coffee shop and took the first open seat she found. Patrons shuffled in and out of the bustling lobby. Each knock of someone against her shoulder ratcheted her anxiety to a new level.

  She’d gotten out of the building and into her car. She’d even made it off the base by some strange twist of luck. But they would come after her.

  Enraged text messages had filled her screen before she’d dumped the cellphone in the trash. She should have taken a moment to pick up a burner phone, but every stop was a risk and she couldn’t afford to get caught.

  Her pulse quickened for the millionth time when the chime on the door rang yet again. As always, she darted her gaze that direction.

  And froze.

  Men in ill-fitting suits entered. Their gazes swept the small cluster of tables. A bald man nodded her direction as he withdrew a weapon from his side. Pandemonium ensued as the patrons screamed.

  Her heart thudded in her chest as she rose and focused on the gun nearest to her. Four more were aimed in her direction. Screams and gasps echoed as chairs scraped against the coffee shop’s tile flooring. A rush of footsteps sounded as the belled door rang as people surrendered to panic and fled.

  Too bad she couldn’t.

  Hands up, her gaze followed the arm holding the gun until she peered into the dark brown eyes of the portly, bald man. With as much bravado as she could muster, she spoke. “Put your guns away. This isn’t necessary.”

  “Hands behind your head, Ms. Dansworth. You’re coming with me.”

  The bell chimed again as Zoey positioned her trembling hands behind her head and somehow managed the nearly impossible feat of interlocking her fingers. Getting shot wasn’t on today’s agenda.

  A tall, broad presence appeared between her and her bald nemesis. Thick corded muscle filled her field of vision. A back. A very toned, rigid back on prominent display thanks to a snug shirt. Zoey gulped and took a step to the side. She didn’t need an innocent bystander getting hurt because of her.

  “Get behind me.” The gruff voice thundered through the room, although the man’s gaze remained locked on the five men aiming guns at her. No, him now. He’d gotten in the way.

  What the heck was he doing?

  “Stand down,” the stranger ordered.

  “This doesn’t concern you, sir. This woman is under arrest for espionage, high treason, and a list of other charges way above your grunt paygrade.” The bald man’s derisive voice lowered an octave as he shifted his stance. “You’re an Army grunt from the base, right? Thinking you’re helping a pretty lady. Stand down, son, before you piss us off. She’s coming with us.”

  “She’s under protection of The Arsenal,” the man said.

  “Who?” The new voice raised an octave. “Want me to clip him?”

  “If you shoot me, I’ll shoot back, and I don’t aim to maim. Every shot I take requires a body bag.” The man didn’t flinch, hadn’t moved an inch. “The Arsenal has been contracted by the Department of Defense to secure Ms. Dansworth and protect her from any threat, by whatever means necessary.”

  Zoey gulped, took another step to the side to get a better look, and froze. Of course.

  Gage Sanderson.

  Her brain was still frozen in shock because he’d mentioned The Arsenal. Who else except someone ordered to come and protect her would foolishly stand off against five armed federal agents?

  “I will not repeat myself, especially to office jockeys playing field operatives.”

  “Step aside, or we will take you into custody,” one of the men warned.

  “I’m coming off three days with less than two hours’ sleep. She saved one of our teams. For that alone I’d eat a bullet for her. Add in the fact that two of the only people I’d walk through fire for are on the end of my com and ordering me to secure her by any means necessary, and I’m at the end of what little patience I have on a good day.”

  “You’re being fed bad information, son. Stand down,” the older man in the ill-fitting suit ordered.

  “Call me ‘son’ one more time and we’ve got a bigger problem,” Gage warned.

  “Who sent you?”

  “Someone with a much higher security clearance than you or whoever sent you will ever see.” Gage glanced over his shoulder at Zoey. “Get your shit. We’re leaving.”

  Right. Get her shit. That was something she could totally do. She took a hesitant step backward, then froze for a moment in case one of the other gun-wielding men took exception to her getting her shit. One of the men readjusted his aim back on her.

  A growl rolled from Gage, who shifted and did a weird kick out with his right leg. Zoey blinked and stared down at the man who’d pointed his gun at her. He looked up at her with wide eyes from his new position on the floor, his throat pinned under Gage’s boot. The gun thudded against a chair leg several feet away.

  “I don’t think he can breathe,” she commented quietly to Gage.

  “Good. Maybe next time he’ll learn to use his brain instead of following orders like a blind idiot.”

  Huh. The man had a point. Zoey forced a couple deep breaths as she gathered her stuff. Now what? It wasn’t like the armed men standing off against Gage were going to let them walk out. She peered out the glass windows at the other customers watching from outside, where they’d fled earlier.

  While she was thankful not to be in handcuffs, she didn’t see a good exit strategy for her or the brave man, Gage. As much as she hated to admit it, she had to sacrifice hersel
f in order to keep Gage safe. While she didn’t know him, this wasn’t his fight.

  Yes, it is. You’re only in this mess because of The Arsenal. It’s his fight, too.

  Zoey ignored the bitchy voice in her head, the one that sounded a lot like her former best friend, may she freeze in Anchorage.

  “I’ll go with you,” she said with a sigh. There was too much at stake. “Let him and The Arsenal walk away from this, and I’ll go with you.”

  “Like hell you will,” Gage said. “Get back behind me and keep your mouth shut.”

  “Really, it’s okay. I knew what would happen.”

  Her mind raced for a way out of the catastrophe of her own design. Her day job was supposed to be quiet, boring. Mundane. A way to keep her off radar.

  Getting arrested because of what she’d done to save The Arsenal left everything else she did in jeopardy. Too many people relied on her. She had to get a warning to Jade. He’d activate the emergency directive she’d created. Everything would be okay.

  “Just promise me you’ll have someone go get my cat. It has to be someone nice, though, because Dobby isn’t very polite to strangers.” She swallowed and put the rest of her plan into play. “Take him to my friend. I’ll give you the address.”

  Gage glanced over his shoulder and creased his brows. The look was one she’d seen quite a few times on people at her day job, the ones who thought she’d lost her mind on more than one occasion. Truth told, they were probably right.