by Cat Connor
I opened my office door. Mitch jumped to his feet. I didn’t expect him to be waiting.
“Is the hummingbird okay?” The last I knew it was airborne when the first explosion hit.
He nodded. “It’ll need some repairs but it mostly survived the blast wave.”
Robust little thing.
I dropped my comms set on my desk, wiped my hands down my filthy jeans and stepped into his arms.
“You’re all right?” he whispered into my ear.
“No. I’m really not.”
His right foot stepped back, creating a gap between us. Mitch looked into my eyes.
“Ellie?”
“I’m not hurt,” I replied. His arms tightened around me as he pulled me close again. “Take me home.”
“You don’t need to do anything?”
Yeah, I do. I need to figure out how those bombs got there and what the women had to do with it. Jen said there was nothing but tourist stuff in the backpacks and their phones. No calls made, or texts sent within half an hour of the explosions. Jen and Kathy were the only survivors of their team. I felt sick all over again.
“I need to go home.”
“Done.”
I saw Sandra on the way out.
“I’m going home.” I looked down at my filthy clothes and noticed brown stains smeared down the thighs of my jeans among the general dirt. Blood. “I can’t work like this.”
I couldn’t work. I couldn’t breathe. Sandra disappeared into a haze. I took a step, my foot connected with something soft. Not concrete. Not metal.
I knelt down on my right knee to get close enough to see what it was. Something sharp stuck into me. A gap in the haze formed. Just enough for me to see a little boy. I pushed wood off him. He didn’t cry. He stared with wide eyes. I scooped him up. So light. My mind stopped. I held him in my arms. His head tipped back. His eyes stared up at me, not blinking, not reacting. Maybe my mask scared him? All of a sudden, my brain kicked back in and tried to make sense of his small battered body. Where were his legs? My head turned. Vomit sprayed across the wreckage at my feet.
I could hear Mitch. “Ellie?”
I blinked. There was no smoke. There was no little boy.
“What was I doing?” I asked, looking at my hands. Where was the little boy? My hands shook as I tried to control the rising tide of bile. I tried to wipe the blood off my hands by rubbing them on my jeans. “I got it.”
Breathe.
Forcing away the panic, I said, “Sandra, find out if those women were on the base at any time prior to today …” My voice cracked. Another slow breath. Think calm. I felt warmth from Mitch’s hand in the small of my back. “See if they’ve been anywhere twice – even days apart. And where are they now? NCIS …”
My throat tightened. Don’t think.
I carried on. “Double check with Jen and Kathy at NCIS, I don’t think they got anything usable from the women when they spoke to them, but check for me. Everything fell apart.”
“I’ll let you know as soon as I have something,” Sandra said. Why was she still looking at me? “Are you all right?”
I shook my head. Mitch draped his jacket around me. The warmth from his jacket seeped into my shoulders. The shaking needed to stop.
It seemed to take forever to get home. I caught sight of my reflection in the hall mirror on my way upstairs. Soot, blood, dust, dirt. I looked like crap. It was comforting to know I looked as good as I felt.
Mitch went ahead of me. I walked into my room seconds after him and the shower in the en suite was already running.
“Thanks,” I said passing him his jacket and my holster.
“I’ll be right here.”
I peeled off my clothes and dropped them in a heap on the bathroom floor, destined for the garbage, not the laundry. Standing under the hot water felt good. The grime washed down the drain. Images of broken bleeding people swirled in the bubbles from the soap circling the drain and finally falling in. Screams faded into gurgles. I leaned on the wall, letting water pour over me. I don’t know how long I was there. Until I was warm again. Until I could breathe without feeling the claustrophobia that came from hours of wearing a gas mask. Until I couldn’t see the images anymore.
By the time I turned off the water, all I wanted was Mitch. To be lost in his eyes and safe in his arms.
I wrapped a robe around me and padded into the bedroom leaving the day at the bottom of the shower. Mitch lay on the bed. He smiled.
“Hey,” I said. Lifting the bottom of the robe so I could crawl across the bed. I lay with my head on his shoulder. His left arm curled around me. Safe. I slipped my hand inside his shirt. Warm. Alive. My fingers traced the outline of his muscles enjoying the sensation as his body responded to my touch.
Mitch slid out a bit and rested on his left elbow. Lost in his eyes, I smiled. Mitch’s lips met mine. My eyes closed. His kiss breathed life back into my aching body. I felt his lips on my neck, light butterfly kisses. Sinking into Mitch, I tilted my head, exposing more of my neck. As he kissed me, his hand moved the robe away. My skin flamed as his hand ran over my stomach. My teeth sank into my lip. I rolled toward Mitch and slid my arms around his neck, drawing him closer, legs entwined. I reached down and undid his belt.
Mitch kissed me again … long, loving kisses. A need burned deep within me. A hunger for his body. Something almost primal in its urgency. My arms tightened around his neck as I pulled him closer.
He whispered, his voice husky, “We’ve got all the time in the world.”
That was all I needed to hear.
I kissed him, long, slow, warm, savoring the taste of him. I was exactly where I wanted to be. Nothing else mattered. I looked into Mitch’s eyes and saw the rest of my life.
“You’re smiling,” he whispered.
“So are you,” I replied pushing him gently until he rolled onto his back, taking me with him.
His heart beat with mine.
“I love you,” he said, his voice husky, his breath ruffling my hair.
His words took my breath away. There was nothing in the world but us. Just us.
Emotions I never thought I’d feel again sprang from the deep. “I love you too.”
I melted into Mitch as his arms tightened around me.
Twelve
Something I Need
I heard the alarm but didn’t want to get up. I knew what was waiting out there and I didn’t know how to stop it. Lying curled around Mitch felt the best place to be. Warm. Comfortable. Safe from the world.
My phone blared. Bon Jovi’s ‘I’ll Sleep when I’m Dead’ bounced off the walls and smashed into the bed.
Bon Jovi?
Caine. Work. Destruction and mayhem waited for me.
I wriggled out from Mitch’s warmth and answered the phone.
“Yep.”
“You all right, kid?” Caine’s customary growl was less teddy bear and more rabid dog this morning but he still called me kid. I knew that meant he was concerned.
“Yes.” I sighed without meaning to. I was okay until the phone rang and it all came flooding back.
“How many agencies are we working with us on this Navy Yard situation?” Caine asked.
“Two.” Can’t count CIA. They weren’t supposed to be involved. Support role only.
“Is this an extension of Operation Visitor?”
Honestly, I had no idea. I thought so, but I had no real clue.
“It’s possible, probable even.”
“I want you to brief the Directors. Set up a meeting.”
Brief them on what exactly? I don’t know anything. Not that I can prove. As I tried to focus on the day ahead of me, I saw our office building collapse. What the hell?
“It’ll be off-site. I’ll let you know where when I do.”
Time to think. A safe place. Off the grid.
“When can we expect you at the office?”
“Be there as soon as I can. Advance warning … I need all SWAT teams and bomb disposal units
on standby.” I paused, then asked, “I’m lead on this case, yes?”
A hint of amusement circled his words. “Yes. Delta A has point.”
“Good. Cancel all leave. I want as many agents available as possible. Alert all hospitals that there could be more mass casualties. Tell the Secret Service they’ll be read in this morning.”
“Secret Service – Homeland will take care of that.”
I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling for a second before replying. “I need to do it. Where’s Renegade?”
“At the Castle,” Caine replied, his voice taking on a new pitch. “Do you have evidence that this is about Renegade?”
That was the tricky bit. I didn’t. None. Not a scrap.
“No. I have …” Just say it. “I have a gut feeling that there will be a lot of distractions in and around D.C. while whoever is behind this makes a move against Renegade.”
“Get evidence, do it fast.”
“We’re working on it.”
Well, everyone but Kurt and me. We’d taken time out to recharge. Experience told me I was no good to anyone if I didn’t look after myself. Mistakes now could be catastrophic. “Meanwhile, tell the Secret Service to increase security around the entire family.”
“How much video did you get yesterday?”
“I don’t know … I’ll let you know when I do.”
“Straight to my office when you get in.”
“Yes.”
I hung up as a horrible feeling of powerlessness descended. Washington was going to burn and I had nothing. Nothing.
I heard a car on the driveway.
Outside most people’s houses that would be normal but not mine. The only cars that could be close enough for me to hear belonged to Delta, my father, or Mitch. The front door opened and closed.
“Visitors?” Mitch asked kissing my neck.
“Kurt,” I replied. “I think.”
I heard the person walk through the house. A smile edged across my mouth as Mitch leaned over me. “Seems a shame but …”
“… time to go to work,” I said finishing his sentence. At that moment I realized I might not be back for days; it didn’t feel like I could do that. Not now. “One second …”
I reached for my phone, noting how many missed calls I had before calling Kurt. A phone rang somewhere in the distance.
“You up?” Kurt said.
“Just hitting the shower. Making coffee?”
“Yes, as it happens.”
“Not tea.”
“It’s coffee, Conway. Full of caffeine. You’ll be jacked up all morning.”
“I’ll be down in fifteen.”
I hung up and swung my legs over the edge of the bed just catching Mitch’s smile as the covers fell away. My phone rang. Insistent. I glanced at the screen as Mike Fisher’s image flashed with the words ‘incoming call’ across the bottom of it. Damn.
I reached down, picked up the phone and answered it.
“Wifey. I’ve been calling you since the news broke yesterday,” Mike said, injecting calm into his voice but failing at removing the raspy edges of concern.
“Sorry, Mike. I was … it’s been …”
“You all right?”
“Kurt and I were there. The explosion. We were there.”
Silence for a beat.
“I’ve been watching the news coverage.” Disbelief flooded his voice. “No one’s claiming responsibility?”
“To be honest, Mike, I have no idea what’s being reported. But we’ll find who did it.”
“Lee? He’s not answering his phone.”
“On his way to New Zealand. Your brother is safe, Mike, he’s with Sam.”
“You and Kurt?”
“Not hurt.” Not hurt but it’s going to take a while to scrub our minds and deal with what we had to do. I sighed. “Thanks for calling, Mike.”
I hung up and dropped my phone back on to the floor.
“Shower,” I said. “You coming?” I extended my hand to Mitch. He stood up, stretched, and took my hand.
I turned on the shower and stepped under the water. He smiled. I reached out pulling him under the water with me.
Our warm bodies slipped across each other under hot running water. Mitch slid an arm around my waist holding me close, leaning his free hand against the wall. His muscles rippled as he moved against me. A storm gathered. One hand on his shoulder, the other arm around his neck.
Blue eyes searching blue eyes.
Smiling. Hot water, cascading down our bodies. Steam rising.
I felt his tongue between my lips and I forgot to breathe.
Thirteen
Can You Hear Me?
I leaned against Caine’s desk and ran over the little I did know in my mind while I waited for him to finish his phone call. Sandra had some information for me; she’d worked her magic just as I knew she would.
Caine hung up. “Must you lean?” he grumbled.
“I don’t want to sit,” I replied, standing up and turning to face him. “I have a list of all the places those three women visited. As far as we can tell, using surveillance that is fast disappearing, they didn’t visit the Navy Yard before yesterday.”
“And there was nothing on them to suggest they’d detonated a bomb?”
“Not a thing.”
“What’s your gut saying?”
“It’s saying they’re involved somehow. But I have no reason to pursue that line of investigation.”
“That’s never stopped you before,” Caine replied.
True.
“I’m going to bring them in regardless. They were there yesterday … maybe they saw something.”
“I hope so,” Caine said. “Have you located them?”
I shook my head. “Kinda hoping they’ll turn up in the city and someone will spot them.” Long shot. If I’d been a tourist at a destination that exploded, I wouldn’t be in a hurry to go back into the city. Something told me these three would.
Why? No damn idea.
“BOLO?”
“Yeah, asked Sandra to put one out this morning. Wanted for questioning. It’s gone out across Northern Virginia as well as D.C.”
“Why not Maryland too?”
“Because I think they’re in Virginia. Somewhere on the orange line.”
Sandra was doing her best to find out where. She’d contacted hotels and asked them to check their registries. It all took time. If we could just get an area, we could work on narrowing it down.
“I’ll leave the Director briefings to you. Find a location, set it up, do it quickly.”
“Yes, sir.”
I left his office and passed the chief on his way in.
“Let me know when the briefing is, Conway.”
“Yes, Chief.”
As tempting as it was to run down the hallway to get away, I didn’t. I walked. Crossed my fingers and hoped I didn’t run into Assistant Director Owen.
The buzz from the bullpen floated in the air, enveloping me as I walked down our corridor. Everyone was working. Phones rang. Chairs moved. Fingers tapped on keyboards. I didn’t need to go in and disturb anyone. Both SSAs from Delta B and C were in there. Their cases now in limbo. The terror attack on the Navy Yard took precedence.
Safely back in my office, I started going over the video footage from the CIA drone and the hummingbird. Mitch and Iain had downloaded all their footage to Sentinel while Kurt and I were … we just were and that’s where my thought stopped. Not productive to go to back there.
What was I looking for? Someone else. Someone with a cell phone in their hand just before the explosions. A needle in a haystack. A message flashed up on my screen: Sandra found something from the day before. She sent me the link and the time stamp.
I clicked play, then dragged my mouse along the bar at the bottom of the window to the appropriate time and let it play.
Troy.
I stopped the video and enlarged the image. It was Troy. No mistake.
What the hell
was Troy doing at the Navy Yard the day before the explosion?
I picked up my phone and called him. He answered on the fourth ring.
“I want you in my office A-sap.”
“Is something wrong, SSA?”
“Ah, yeah, the Navy Yard exploded yesterday. Slip your mind, did it?”
He bristled. “No, SSA. I was following a lead.”
“And that lead led you where, Agent Troy?”
Sandra appeared in my doorway and waited.
“It went nowhere. I thought I could locate the women. I was wrong.”
“My office, now.”
As soon as I put my phone down Sandra spoke, “I don’t understand why he would be at the Navy Yard.”
“Me neither.” I swung in my chair. We’d had no business at the Navy Yard until we were sure the three women were headed there. There was no link prior to that. “He’s on his way to my office. Have you seen him today?”
She shook her head. “I thought you’d given him instructions, to my knowledge he hasn’t been in.”
She’d know. Sandra knew who came in and when. No one slipped past her.
“I want you to go over all our surveillance … you’re not just looking for the three women, you’re looking for someone with a cell phone prior to the explosions and Troy.”
I leaned back in my chair and watched Sandra leave.
Shit just got messy.
The Directors’ briefing needed a venue. I tapped on my laptop keyboard and checked on the various safe houses belonging to the combined Delta teams. Two in use. But all the Delta A houses were free. I booked out one of the houses and attached the case name and number. My gut told me to make sure Troy thought he knew where we would be. It also told me to hold the briefing somewhere else.
Kurt’s name flashed in the bottom corner of my screen.
I clicked and typed into the window. Road trip in twenty. I stared at the words and wondered why on earth I wrote them. I wasn’t planning on leaving.
Sandra barreled through my door in a cloud of perfume and sparkles.
“They’re at the Extended Stay hotel in Fairfax, on Lee Highway.”
And suddenly the road trip made sense. Another random act of weirdness from my synapses.
“Room?”
“No idea. My powers are great but even I can’t access an actual handwritten guest book.”
