by Cara Carnes
Continuing operations at the usual pace after helping hide a U.S. congressman’s daughter hadn’t seemed smart. And Zoey had needed the break, if she was entirely honest. Running an underground network while also running operations for the best commandos in the private sector was not conducive to sleep.
She was tired.
So far she’d kept her newly formed mental compartments locked down tight. The network one was still secure and nowhere near touching the new day job one—aka The Arsenal. Oh boy. The Arsenal was far more holy-shit than her coma-inducing NSA job.
Yep. She sure as heck was Dorothy, and she was nowhere near Kansas. She was in a small town named Resino and so far over her head she couldn’t even figure out which way was up. Okay, she’d gotten loads better the past few weeks.
Things were fine now, but she was behind because she’d stayed too focused on learning her new world at The Arsenal.
“We have. Eight weeks, Z. We can’t let these girls down. They’ve got no one else to get them safe.” Jade’s voice lowered. “Do you not remember where I found Cecilia and Gwen?”
No, she didn’t remember.
Guilt kept her silent as she accessed the pending files Jade had loaded into the online drive they shared. Son of a bitch. He’d found them in a warehouse brothel. Thirteen and twelve.
Eight weeks before.
Right in the middle of Dallas’s search for his son. It’d been a hellacious, all-out danger zone of troubles she hadn’t really been involved with, since Vi and Mary had led the efforts.
But Zoey had been tasked with keeping day-to-day missions running at The Arsenal. Her bosses Vi and Mary, aka The Quillery Edge, had trusted her to run back office for the teams. She’d made a lot of mistakes, but she’d learned and gotten everyone home safe. Every mission had been successful, mainly because the teams were kickass and Mary and Vi always seemed to be around when the shit hit the proverbial fan.
Yep. They’d dragged her ass out of the fire more than once, even while handling Dallas’s search. They were amazing.
Amazing enough that they wouldn’t have forgotten about Cecilia and Gwen. And who the heck was Jennie?
Ugh. She needed a week to catch up with work no one knew she had. Exhaustion plagued her as she accessed the data and fed it into her programs. None of the systems she used were as good as HERA—the offensive and defensive security system Vi and Mary had designed.
“You need help,” Jade said.
“I’ll get back with you in a few hours, two a.m. Our typical time to talk.”
“There’s a shit ton of requests out in the drive,” Jade said unnecessarily since his user ID was there beneath hers.
He knew she was online and looking through the mountain of work awaiting her. Work she’d ignored too long. “I’m sorry, Jade. I’ll catch up and stay that way.”
“How?”
“I’ll figure something out.”
“You need help,” he repeated.
He was right. She did.
But she’d sworn to never share what she did with anyone. The anonymity of what she’d created was why it was safe. They’d never had any problems. As long as she minded her p’s and q’s and Jade kept the front end flowing, everyone she hid would remain that way.
“We’ll manage. We always do.”
“Years ago when this first started, yeah. We did. But it’s too big for you and me alone, Z. Not even your fancy computer mojo can cover the gaps now that you’re with those folks.” Jade’s voice got lower. “Maybe they could help. You said they were the best.”
“That can’t happen.”
“Why not?”
Why not indeed? She’d asked herself that a thousand times. Truth told, she was terrified of what they’d think. Would they understand all the illegal things she’d done to keep the network safe? To keep the women and children she protected hidden, happy, and whole?
“I’ve fed Cecilia’s, Gwen’s, and Jennie’s files into the system,” Zoey said. “You should get the data back shortly. Process them yourself since I won’t have time until tomorrow. We’ll talk tonight. Two a.m.” She hung up and tossed the disposable into the trashcan. She got her laptop stashed in her backpack and headed back to the table.
Ellie wore an expression Zoey had seen many times, mainly because of her frequent trips to Bubba’s bathroom. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” She patted DJ’s hair and then TJ’s. “Momma Mason wanted help making that cake.”
“Yeah, it’s for Mom’s birthday,” TJ said. “Ellie’s gonna help.”
Mom. The boys had both started calling Kamren “Mom” and Dallas “Dad.” Zoey had damn near melted on the spot the first time she’d heard the two words. She knew there wasn’t a man or woman at The Arsenal who wouldn’t crawl into the bowels of the worst hell and declare war to ensure those boys got to keep their new home where they had a mom and dad.
Zoey’s determination strengthened as she realized everyone within her network, all the motherless and fatherless kids she’d hidden from sex traffickers, deserved the same chance to get a home where they could have a real mom and dad.
Which meant she needed to take a page out of Riley Mason’s handbook. The youngest Mason had almost died when her best friend, Kamren’s little sister, tried to kill her.
But in typical Mason fashion, she’d recovered from her injuries and was now stronger than ever. She’d increased her training time with any and every operative who offered her time. Guns, hand-to-hand. Anything and everything.
Zoey admired the hell out of Riley, who’s new mantra was “Cowgirl up and move on.”
That’s exactly what Zoey would do.
Cowgirl up and move on. She’d find a way to make the network as strong as ever.
Dread rode Gage hard as he entered the small conference room down the hall from the whiteboard room. Vi, Mary, and Dylan sat around a small table with one chair remaining.
Son of a bitch.
“Have a seat.” Dylan motioned toward the chair across from him.
It wasn’t an order or a request, more of a statement of fact. Gage would sit and go through whatever this was whether he wanted to or not. A thick pile of folders was in front of the two women, who sat side by side.
“This doesn’t look good,” Gage commented.
“Bob called, said we’re getting visitors shortly,” Vi said.
“Bob” was the Secretary of Defense and never called Vi as far as Gage knew. Whatever had spurred the man to do so wouldn’t bode well for The Arsenal if the expressions on the two women’s sun-kissed skin were any indication.
Gage couldn’t help but grin when Mary rubbed her baby bump. From what he’d heard from Jesse, Vi would have one soon as well. Apparently Dylan had let the fact slip shortly after their return a few days ago.
“What can I do?”
“We aren’t sure why, but we’re getting a visit from a U.S. congressman. Bob wouldn’t offer much in the way of details, claiming not to know anything other than Zoey’s former boss from the NSA is bringing a U.S. congressman here. Edward Cherling.”
Son of a bitch. The bastard wasn’t done messing with Zoey. She’d ratted out a dirty operation Ian Schmidt had covered up.
“The one whose daughter was kidnapped, then her attorney told the world she wasn’t.” Gage crossed his arms. “How does that involve us? Does he want us looking for her?”
“We’ll find out soon enough,” Mary said. “You’re here because we need you to keep Zoey in the operational theater on lockdown until we get some answers.”
Lockdown.
Gage cursed. This was about Zoey. “You sure I shouldn’t take her somewhere else?”
“That’s a possibility, but I want information first.” Vi crossed her arms. “She’s a great woman and an exceptional hacker. Whatever this is, there’s a reason. With Ian involved, it’s likely because she hung her ass out for Fallon’s team. Either way it becomes an Arsenal fight when that vehicle arrives.”
It’d taken
Gage a couple months to derive the same thought when it came to the beautiful and brilliant woman who drove him to distraction. Zoey was a whirlwind trapped in a tornado—uncontrolled fire and sass.
She lacked everything the two women before him had. Vi and Mary were lethal, emotionless precision when they ran ops. Zoey? She was baby Groot holding a grenade with no pin running full speed ahead. That’s what the operatives described her as. Gage hadn’t ever seen the movie with the talking tree character, but he could imagine it suited her.
None of what Vi, Mary, and Dylan had shared so far translated to the stack of files. Gage’s gaze slid to Dylan. “I’m thinking that’s not the only reason I’m in here.”
“We had time to discuss it on the way home a few days ago,” Dylan said. “It’s time.”
Son of a bitch. Denial and dread stewed in his gut. He’d been given longer than he’d expected—almost two years.
“You’re the best operative I’ve ever worked with,” Dylan said. “It’s time you have a new team at your back. Think on it. The declaration you’re to look for a team will come in the next operations meeting, but I wanted you to get a head’s up.”
It was what he’d expected to hear and what he’d hoped not to hear rolled into one giant shit sandwich. Team leaders were supposed to have a team to lead. Gage had gotten away without one longer than he’d expected, which was why he’d keep his mouth shut and accept the decision.
“Jesse’s asked that you consider either Levi or Brooklyn from his team,” Vi said. “He senses something between those two and thinks it’s best if they get divided. Mary and I agree.”
Gage grunted. Brooklyn was the newest member of Jesse’s team and, therefore, the obvious choice. Fallon Graves, the best damn ordnance expert Gage had ever met, said the woman had a raw, natural ordnance talent.
Mary shoved the folders forward. “When you have time, here are the teamless operatives. You know them all since they got vetted by you.”
He’d spent the past two years vetting noobs and testing operatives for leadership roles within The Arsenal. It’d kept him from having a team of his own. He’d sworn he’d never take another team, but that was before Dylan had dragged his ass out of a Guatemalan bar.
“You had our backs when we took down the Hive and the Collective,” Dylan said. “Then you shadowed Dallas in a way we never could have. You’re ready.”
Gage didn’t agree, but he wouldn’t argue with the man who’d saved his life without judgment. He’d never doubted Gage’s recount of what’d gone down before he and the Deltas he’d led arrived.
For that alone Gage would be eternally grateful in a way he could never repay.
Then the man had gone a step further and given Gage the validation he’d been seeking all along—affirmation he was worthy. A man good enough for a soldier like Dylan to trust with his brother’s six.
“Think on it,” Dylan ordered.
Gage nodded.
“Until then, you’re on Zoey,” Vi said. “She’s one of us. We’ve got her back, whether she wants us to or not.”
3
Six hours had passed since Zoey had talked Jade off the ledge while straddling a toilet at Bubba’s. She’d handled the latest issues within the network as soon as she’d arrived at the compound. She couldn’t ever predict what’d go wrong, but something always did.
Speaking of wrong, she watched Gage prowl down the hall and toward the room she was in. His purposeful stride lacked his typical rhythm. It was almost…
Hurried.
She gulped the thought as he keyed in a code and entered the operational theater with a murderous expression. The door slammed shut behind him. He turned and entered a code into the security lock. A red light blinked, then an ominous chime echoed through the speakers.
Zoey had learned more in a few weeks at The Arsenal than she had in years at the NSA. Some were small idiosyncrasies to help her deal with badass commandos who knew more than a hundred ways to kill someone.
When a man as lethally competent as Gage Sanderson had that look, it didn’t bode well for the one on the receiving end. Given the facts that she was the only one in the room and he’d activated HERA’s lockdown system, Zoey’s pulse quickened.
“You can’t walk in here and activate HERA’s lockdown. Vi and Mary are gonna be pissed.” Tossing out the names of her two bosses got a commando’s attention a lot quicker. That was one of the first bullet points on her handling-badasses list—which was now a full notebook.
“Who do you think gave me the code?”
Oh boy. She looked over at the monitors displaying security feeds. The only thing abnormal was a black sedan with tinted windows sitting outside the entrance to the main building. She swallowed. That hadn’t been there when she’d gotten back from town with Kamren and the kids.
What had she missed?
Her gut clenched. Surely Jade hadn’t called her from an unsecured line. Even frazzled the man had more sense than most. But black sedans weren’t a common occurrence at The Arsenal. Trucks and SUVs were the vehicles of choice deep in southwest Texas where ranch- and farmland were surpassed only by the volume of dry dirt roads.
She glanced at Gage, who had his thick arms folded in front of him. Anger simmered in his gaze, as it often did when he was around her. While many of the operatives still confused the heck out of Zoey, she knew a thing or two about the team leader who’d just locked them into the room.
First, he didn’t trust her. Or, well, most anyone. He was the leader tasked by all six of the Mason brothers to vet every operative at The Arsenal. Gage might not trust easily, but every person at the compound respected him without reservation.
He had every reason not to trust her since she’d been hiding more than her fair share of secrets since her arrival. But Vi had pulled some strings with her friend “Bob”—aka the Secretary of Defense, for mere peons like Zoey—and gotten the investigation into Zoey’s actions to protect Fallon’s team closed.
“What’s going on?” She asked the question as she called up security feeds and ran them back until the moments immediately following the sedan’s arrival.
“Remember what I said the day we met?”
Her stomach tightened. “You said lots of things. Dobby still hasn’t forgiven you for almost shooting him.”
The hairless cat that had become her temporary charge had taken a while to acclimate to his new surroundings. Poor Dobby didn’t acclimate to change well. Zoey had felt like a monster telling the cat’s mother she couldn’t take him with her because he was too easily trackable.
Which meant Dobby was now her baby even though she’d never been much of a cat person. Fortunately DJ and TJ were up for the task of providing playtime and petting sessions when Zoey was working.
“This is your last chance to come clean, Little Bit.”
Zoey faced the row of monitors and leaned forward as she squeezed her eyes shut. Gage’s deep voice saying that vile nickname he’d started for her threaded beneath her skin until a tremble went up her spine.
She remembered exactly what he’d said that day. Every single word.
Because when it came to Gage Sanderson she was beyond obsessed.
Whatever you’re hiding had better not surface and affect The Arsenal. If it does, you and I are gonna have problems.
HERA dinged as it pulled up the data it’d already run through the system. the alert message it’d already flashed to Mary, Vi, and everyone else who’d been paying attention while she and Kamren had been wrestling with DJ and TJ.
“You didn’t take your phone to Bubba’s,” he commented.
“No.” She’d taken another one of several burners no one knew about and spent too much time on it talking Jade off the ledge.
Her outings to eat at Bubba’s and the infrequent trips into Nomad were a few of the only moments she was safely away from HERA. Those stolen moments she could squander in a bathroom in a small eatery or a bustling Walmart had kept her operation running under the radar.
Until now.
Adrenaline flooded her system as she watched her former boss, Ian Schmidt, enter The Arsenal’s visitor’s area with Congressman Edward Cherling. Her heart thudded in her chest.
“Clearly Schmidt’s still pissed I ratted out that dirty operation.” She turned and stood fully to face Gage even though she wanted to run and hide…then call Jade and order him to scramble the emergency protocol.
But rule number two of commandos thundered in her brain. They didn’t respect fear. They admired courage. What had Addy said? Balls of steel.
Addison Rugers would know. She was the biggest badass female operative around. Zoey channeled her pale imitation of Addy and waited out the silence.
“Maybe.”
Gage may have said “maybe,” but his tone screamed “bullshit” in the soft, quiet way her entire body appreciated. No one affected her the way he did.
He shoved off the wall and prowled toward her. His combat boots scraped against the floor as he halted mere inches from where she stood. He leaned forward until she was forced to lean backward and grip the counter behind her.
His dark, cinnamon gaze glimmered as he reached around her. Heat grazed her arm where his touched. “Let’s see for ourselves.”
She turned and ignored the fission of need spiraling through her as her backside rubbed against his hard, muscular body. Images filled the monitors as the security system shifted to the live feed of what everyone called the whiteboard room.
“How the heck did you know how to do that?”
“Just because I’m not part of the geek squad doesn’t mean I don’t have brains,” he whispered in her ear. “I know more than a few things, Zoey. Want to know what they are?”
“Not particularly.” She trembled as he grabbed her waist with one hand and ran the other alongside her temple to pull the hair from her face.
Fact number one on the list of things that enthralled her about Gage was how tactile he was. “You shouldn’t go around getting close to people without consent, you know. Some of the newer operatives could complain.”
