Halon-Seven

by Xander Weaver

  “No,” she admitted. “I guess he didn’t. I never really thought about it until now.”

  Cyrus shook his head. “You didn’t. It wasn’t a concern to you. But it means that every one of the team members had a motive for trying to sell the technology before it was ready to hit the market. I’ve been getting a strong sense that we’re dealing with two distinctly different groups vying for Meridian. When you think about it, we’re lucky a dozen different groups aren’t trying to take it from us.”

  Reese felt sick as she considered his logic.

  “But first things first,” Cyrus said with confidence. “I’m closing the loop on Bola Alvares tomorrow.”

  Reese stood and looked Cyrus over. Her patchwork was about as good as it was going to get. “Why don’t you wash up? Okay if I warm up dinner?”

  This brought a sincere smile to Cyrus’s face. “Perfect!” he said. “Just give me a few minutes.” He looked down at his jeans. They were caked with grime from the alley, blood, and who knew what else. Perhaps not so surprising, they had also torn at some point.

  Chapter 31

  Berton Springs, Colorado

  Thursday, 8:52 pm

  Walking down the hall, Cyrus pulled on a fresh t-shirt. He was already stiffening up. His body was fighting its self to relax; the adrenaline rush had left him, and he was now tired and numb. The house was dark. As he reached the living room, he found the fire restocked and burning brightly. A number of additional candles were lit around the room. A blanket was laid out before the hearth, and Reese had also laid out the reheated Chinese food.

  She walked in from the kitchen holding a bottle of wine. She handed it to him, along with a corkscrew. “I thought a picnic would be nice,” she said with a shy smile. “I wanted to surprise you when you got back…” She gently touched the darkening bruise on the side of his face. “It turns out you surprised me.”

  His pulse quicken with the warm touch of her fingertips. Her hand slid gently down the coarse stubble of his jaw. He looked at the blanket she’d laid across the floor, the pillows scattered around to make them comfortable, the warm fire, and the candles. She’d gone to a lot of trouble putting together an improvised, intimate setting for two. And he’d come back beaten up and bleeding. But she was rolling with it. The craziness of the last few days had knocked her down, but she was resilient. He admired that.

  They took their places on the blanket in front of the fire. His legs didn’t fold beneath him as easily as they should. The effort brought a renewed surge of pain that he tried to keep to himself. Thankfully Reese wasn’t looking just then and missed his clumsy effort to get comfortable. By the time he pulled the cork from the wine bottle, Reese was ready with two glasses. He poured them each half a glass before setting the bottle aside.

  Cyrus considered a toast, but he was at a loss for words. So much had happened in the last few days. The only positive thing to come from it all was her, as far as he was concerned. How the hell do you put something like that into a toast? He felt he had something to say but found no words to express what he was thinking or feeling. And lacking anything better, he simply raised his glass.

  Reese smiled brightly and raised her glass in response. The ting of the tapped glasses was a virtual gong in the quiet of the room. Cyrus listened to the sound fade until all that was left was the snapping and popping of the fire. He took a deep swallow of wine, his eyes on hers the entire time. She took a sip as well, her eyes similarly locked on his. As she lowered her glass, a tight smile crossed her lips. It was that smile, he realized. Her smile and her eyes. They resonated through him, just as the sound of their glasses had filled the room.

  He watched her smile stretch tightly across her lips. As if she were fighting herself not to smile more brightly, reigning in what she was thinking and feeling. But it was more than that. There was the light in her eyes that she wasn’t able to contain. The hopefulness, the confidence, the desire. He was sure of it. She was falling for him, too.

  So what he did, he did without thinking. He took her wineglass and set it aside along with his own. Sliding across the blanket, he moved nearer. Rising onto his knees, he pulled her close. Then, slowly and gently, he drew her mouth to his. She returned his kiss…delicate, caressing, and growing more passionate.

  She pulled him more tightly against her. He was completely consumed, for once his thoughts only of this moment. She couldn’t know that he had only ever given himself to one other woman so deeply. He had never felt his blood boil the way it did when he felt her touch. Until he met her, he had never expected to feel anything close to this again.

  When they pulled away from each other for a moment of air, he felt her pulling his shirt free. He laughed and helped her, as she slid his shirt off over his head. But she stopped cold when her eyes fell on the bandage taped over his lower ribs.

  “Oh! I forgot—” a hand went to her mouth. Cyrus put his finger under her chin and guided her eyes upward to meet his. He couldn’t help but laugh. He was about to say something funny, but decided to hell with it! His mouth again found hers, and their entangled bodies went crashing to the floor.

  By that point, they were both laughing. Neither one had any intention of stopping. A moment later, Reese freed herself of her tank top, which was followed shortly by the remainder of their clothing. The firelight grew dim while their dinner grew cold for a second time that night.

  Chapter 32

  Berton Springs, Colorado

  Thursday, 7:11 am

  Glaring morning sun shining through the front windows fought to warm the cold living room. The reflective light woke Reese as surely as a rooster on a country farm. A yawn and a stretch, she sat upright with the heavy down comforter pressed to her naked body with one arm. The fire had died out in the middle of the night, and the house had grown cold. She looked at the floor around her. It was covered with the blankets and pillows she had scavenged from the beds of the two guest rooms.

  Cyrus lay on his back, still sound asleep. The comforter was pulled up halfway over his chest. She could just see the edge of the bandage on his ribs. She smiled, thinking with a small bit of pride that he had not let his injuries hamper last night’s activities.

  The scrapes on the side of his face were looking better. Her improvised medical attention appeared to be doing the trick. And the swelling on the side of his face was gone. Even the bruising seemed less pronounced than the night before. He was lying on his back, so the knot on the back of his head must’ve improved as well.

  He was amazingly resilient.

  She thought about his comment the night before. If he won the fight, what did the other guys look like? Had he killed them? He never elaborated on the details of the attack. Cyrus was a man of surprisingly few words—even in the gravest of situations.

  She pulled the blanket back to take a better look at the bandage on his lower ribs. It had grown dark with blood seepage. Suddenly, she was feeling more modest about their lovemaking. He had clearly broken a stitch or two in the process. On second thought, maybe I should consider it a point of pride.

  She was smiling somewhat sheepishly to herself when she looked up and noticed he was watching her. Whoops. She felt her cheeks flush in response.

  “Good morning,” Cyrus said with a grin.

  She leaned over and kissed him. “Good morning,” she said quietly. “You’ve been bleeding. I think you might’ve broken some stitches.”

  He chuckled. There was a fiendish glint in his eye, but he kept any commentary to himself. She had a feeling that their minds were following a similar line of thought.

  “Do you want me to take a look at it? I can clean it up.” She took a deep breath and drew up the courage. “If you need new stitches…I’ll try to do less damage this time.”

  “No, don’t worry about it. I’m not in any hurry to get up. Are you?”

  She smiled. Not at all, she thought. She slipped under the blanket beside him and laid her head on his chest. “I could stay here all day.” She meant
it.

  “That sounds just about perfect.” She could sense he was smiling at the thought. “Unfortunately, I have an appointment with Agent Shaw later this morning. And then I’m going to have a talk with our friend Bola Alvares.”

  Reese rocked back onto her elbow and glared at him. “You’re kidding?”

  He shook his head. “It’s gotta be done. The man tried to kidnap you, and he put a bomb in Alfie’s truck. Until he’s dealt with, none of us are safe.”

  Thinking for a minute, she wasn’t sure she should ask the question, but she still felt compelled. “Then, when you say ‘talk’ with Alvares, you mean…”

  “I mean talk,” he said with a disarming smile. “Alvares knows about the platforms. Basically, they’re the Holy Grail to smugglers. He won’t stop until he gets his hands on the technology. Chad let that genie out of the bottle. There’s no way to put it back.”

  “So you’re going to talk with Alvares?” She was skeptical.

  “I have to. He knows about the platforms. If he brought anyone in on the secret, I need to know. Anyone who knows is a danger to every one of us.”

  “And you think you can get a hardened drug lord to tell you what you want to know?” She knew he was smarter than to think it would really be that easy, but she couldn’t imagine what his plan might be.

  He considered the question. “Sometimes it’s not the question that matters so much as the way you ask it.”

  So much for that. She still had no idea what he had in mind, but trusted he had a plan. She just hoped it didn’t involve another beating like the one he had taken the night before. Oddly, despite what he had gone through in New York, he didn’t seem troubled by the physical abuse his body had suffered. He really was unlike any man she’d ever met. It was no wonder Walter had spoken so highly of him.

  The realization that her feelings for Cyrus were growing was a surprise. She had never fallen for someone so quickly. And last night? If she was honest with herself, last night meant something more to her on multiple levels. This, too, was unusual.

  Though last night, after they had both fallen asleep, something had happened that was troubling her today. She was tempted to ask about it, but at the same time, it felt like an invasion of his privacy. Still, if the connection she felt was true, maybe it wouldn’t be so out of line.

  Running his hand through her hair, Cyrus broke the silence. “You’ve got something on your mind. Why don’t you tell me what you’re thinking?”

  It was curious, he must have sensed her conflict. She took it as a sign to just go for it. Either he would be alright talking, or he wouldn’t.

  “You talked in your sleep. It sounded like a bad dream…a really bad dream,” she said. She didn’t move from where she leaned on an elbow. Only inches separated them.

  Cyrus was quiet for a few beats. “That’s funny, I don’t remember dreaming last—” his voice caught and an awkward silence followed. “Oh… Ah, yeah. Well…”

  He was clearly at a loss to explain, and Reese felt bad for putting him on the spot. “I’m sorry for bringing it up,” she said. “I didn’t mean to…”

  Great. Now she didn’t know what to say either.

  The silence hung between them.

  Cyrus took a long deep breath and seemed to be thinking something through. She turned and sat fully upright, holding the comforter tightly against her skin. A chill ran through her. Damn, it’s really cold in the house!

  “When you meet someone special, the worst thing you can do is dump all of your baggage on them,” Cyrus said reluctantly.

  “I don’t want to pry. You were just very upset—I was concerned. I wanted to wake you. But you were so agitated, I was a little afraid of what might happen. You don’t have to talk about it. I just want to make sure you’re alright.”

  “No, I’m fine. And it’s alright.” He pulled himself upright so he was sitting on the floor with a blanket covering his lap and legs. “We just had a fantastic night together—something I take very seriously. But, in the middle of our first night together you hear something like that? I’m not sure what I said, but I know what I dreamt. I think it warrants some kind of explanation.”

  Reese found it hard to look him in the eye. She didn’t want to press the issue. “You don’t have to explain anything. You were just yelling for Natasha and you were really upset. Whatever you dreamt, it must’ve been horrible.”

  There was silence while Cyrus tried to find the words. “Natasha was very important to me. That last job I mentioned—the one in my former life?” He took a deep breath. “I saw her die… I couldn’t prevent it. I’m not sure the nightmares will ever stop.”

  When her eyes found his, Reese was even more sorry she’d brought it up. She saw the hurt he held behind them, and it tore at her. She barely had a voice. “I’m so sorry,” was all she could say.

  He offered a half-hearted smile. “No, there’s more to it than that. That’s why I say it’s baggage. After I lost Natasha, I guess I closed myself off. I changed everything about my life. My job, my home, all my friends. I just needed to start over. But I lost a crucial part of myself along the way, and I resigned myself to the fact that I would never have it back.

  “But meeting you changed that. I didn’t understand it at the time, but I knew it the first time we spoke.”

  He dropped into silence again. She could tell he had more to say, but the words didn’t come easy. The words were clumsy, and he was stumbling. She realized how strong he was for trying to get them out. This was obviously a subject very close to his heart.

  “I know this sounds crazy and maybe even cliché,” his smile showed his discomfort. “But when I look in your eyes, I get the feeling you understand. Meeting you sparked something in me…something that’s been gone for a long time. Something I didn’t even realize I’d lost.”

  Reese did understand. She could see it behind his eyes. He had loved Natasha very much. Whatever happened, it didn’t matter. The woman had died, and that loss had left Cyrus deeply scarred. For all the strength, determination, and resolve she’d seen in him in the short time since they met, now she was seeing the sensitive side. He was as breakable as anyone else.

  She wanted to tell him this, but words failed her now, too. Here he was, spilling his guts to her—baring his soul, and she was too choked up to explain how much she wanted to help, how much she cared, or how much she wanted to take his pain away.

  Clearing his throat, Cyrus took another deep breath and lay back against the pillows. “I’m acting like a world class freak. Our first night together, and you get to see this…” He was shaking his head. “The truth is that I care for you, Reese. I care a great deal. I just don’t want you to have the wrong impression based on what I might’ve said in my sleep. I haven’t had that dream in a long time. And, I think that since I met you, I’m experiencing something I never thought I would again.”

  Reese knew. She understood just how he felt. It hurt to know he had that kind of pain locked inside. But as much as she empathized with his heartache, it filled her with hope to know he could share these things. It clearly didn’t come easy to him.

  She wanted to tell him these things—explain just how she felt. But when she looked into his eyes, she the words just weren’t there. Leaning over, she kissed him gently. A few moments later she pulled back and smiled. Her heart hammered in her chest and chill in the room had disappeared entirely There was no doubt in her mind, he could read the hungry gleam in the way her eyes locked on him. The same sentiment reflected in his gaze. She leaned over and kissed him again, this time more passionately and with abandon.

  When two people are of the same mind, the best conversations can be had without words.

  In one quick motion, she pulled back the blankets to make room for herself. She slid her naked body along his, even as his arms enveloped her. The blankets fell down around them and the room went dark. They made love again.

  Chapter 33

  Off the Coast of Santa Barbara, California<
br />
  Friday, 9:18 am (10:18 am Colorado Time)

  Anatoli had turned in another detailed report. Dargo sat at the desk bolted to the bulkhead of the small ship’s main cabin. His eyes scanned the screen of the laptop as he scrolled through the latest update, a study in the movements of Nil Bayer. Though Dargo had worked for Bayer for only a short time, he already harbored distrust for the man. Not being one to blindly follow orders that could prove detrimental to himself or his team, Dargo had tasked Anatoli with tracking Bayer and reporting back.

  The initial reports were strange. Bayer moved around Europe seemingly at random. One thing became apparent early on. The man shunned air travel. He traveled by car, or when possible, by train. This was a bonus, because it made Anatoli’s job easier. Last-minute air travel was difficult and expensive. But last-minute travel by train or car posed no issue at all.

  Bayer had no compunction when it came to spending large sums of money. He had outfitted Dargo’s team with whatever equipment they required, with little or no fuss. Likewise, the man had shelled out large sums of money to pay Dargo’s support staff. With operatives spread between California, New York, Chicago, Washington, D.C., and parts of Europe, this was no small financial concern. The man showed distress only for the timeliness of the operation, never the cost. Dargo was accustomed to working for the financially well off. They were the ones who could afford his fees. But Bayer’s unconventional concerns had prompted Dargo to look more closely at his employer.

  Such examination of one’s employer was unprincipled, and that had troubled Dargo for some time. But as time had passed and the questions accumulated, so had his concern for the situation. Dargo was a professional. He didn’t need to like an employer or agree with his ideology in order to take a job. It was the nature of the business. But this was also a vocation where few lived long enough to retire, let alone die of old age. Paying attention when things were off kilter had always served Dargo well. And, in all of his years on the job, he’d never had a greater sense that something was amiss. So he had set Anatoli on the man’s trail. Initially with little result.