Strictly Need to Know

by MB Austin

  The tall, dark, and handsome one waited for Maji to extract herself, his feet planted shoulder-width apart and hands clasped loosely in front of him. He smiled politely at Rose.

  Rose extended a hand to him. “Rose diStephano. You must be Angelo and Ri’s friends.” She caught the relieved look in Maji’s eyes and her hint of a nod, before Mr. Runway responded.

  “Devadutt Goldberg.” He shook Rose’s hand politely.

  “And this one’s Tom Taylor,” Maji said, her arm now around the stocky man’s waist.

  Tom stepped forward with a hand extended. “Ma’am.”

  “Rose,” she corrected him warmly and found herself pulled into a hug. When she stepped back, her knee shot pain up and down her leg, and she flinched.

  Frank moved from the doorway. “I’ll get you some ice, hon.” As he went through to the kitchen, he said to the newcomers, “Name’s Frank. Thanks for coming, guys.”

  “You break another one, Rios?” Dev asked with a deprecating look.

  Maji glared up at him. “Don’t go there, dude.” She looked at both men. “Let’s get you oriented.”

  Maji took Tom and Dev on a jog around the compound, pointing out security features and weaknesses of the property. They asked appropriate questions about wall heights, blind spots, adjoining properties, video monitoring, other guards. She was pleased to see they could hold a conversation at a reasonable trot.

  “Mrs. Benedetti looks to be a handful,” Tom noted, when Maji asked how they planned to split their detail on her protection.

  “We should just about keep up with her, with two of us,” Dev agreed.

  “How’s that Frank guy for backup? You need us to rotate in?” Tom asked.

  “Nah, Rose is cooperative. I got her covered.”

  “How come Ang always assigns the single ladies to you, Rios?” Dev asked. “We all know they’re safer from my charms than yours.”

  “Oh, I bet he’s counting on your winning ways to soften Jackie up. You are more her type.”

  Tom laughed. “I’ll remind her you’re married, big guy. I got your back.”

  As they headed downhill from the far side of the Big House and the Hummers came into view, Maji slowed to a walk. “What are we, fucking Blackwater? You couldn’t get a Jimmy, a Tahoe, a Navigator? An effing Escalade, even?”

  “Nope. It’s what we sell, dude,” Dev responded.

  “We?”

  “Mira’s folks, and now me, I guess. They have a dealership in Jersey. Hummers, Fords, and VWs.”

  “How eclectic.”

  “And we rent out the up-armored models. Got a fleet of six.”

  Tom added, “Anyway, they were available on short notice. Like us. And Ang liked the idea.”

  “’Course he did.” The paramilitary vibe, the high visibility. Like wannabes, taking themselves too seriously to be real professionals. “Has he got uniforms for you, too?”

  “Not so far as we know,” Tom replied. “And don’t you dare suggest it.”

  They finished the welcome tour with a cooldown walk around Angelo’s house. Maji pointed out the perimeter security, including the upstairs escape routes and the bars on the basement windows.

  “Ri, that consultant, the one who JSOC tapped into all your missions?” Tom asked.

  “Cohen, yeah. What about her?”

  “Angelo says she’s in town for this one. You think that means we’ll finally meet her?”

  “Maybe. Rose is taking classes with her.”

  “The classes you’re teaching? Then you’ve met her already. What’s she like?”

  Maji glanced sideways at him. “Quiet. Nice enough, I guess. Short.”

  In the world of elite security services and private military contractors, Hannah’s firm was one of the best regarded. The kind of outfit where a Special Forces vet would want to work. And a covert ops specialist? Well, working anywhere else in the private sector would be a waste of their skills.

  Dev stopped, looking at her skeptically. “Short? Like, shorter than you?”

  Tom shot him a warning look. “So, maybe you could introduce us sometime? If we happened to drop by class, or something.”

  Propped up by the kitchen window, keeping Frank company, Rose heard the question and listened for the answer.

  “You here for the mission, or here to audition?” Maji’s voice replied, sharp and clipped. Rose could imagine the hard look her face took on when she was pissed off.

  “Hoo-ah,” the duo responded quietly, in unison.

  “Then cut the fanboy crap,” Maji said.

  The kitchen door opened, and the three traipsed in, shirts sticking to their torsos.

  “Hey.” Maji nodded at her. “We’ll be back in ten to help down here.” To the guys, she said, “I’ll show you where the showers are. Then we’re on KP.”

  Rose caught the two men grousing as they walked toward the stairs. But it sounded playful, and so did Maji’s tone. She wondered what it was like to hold your own in the Army’s boys’ club. Maybe camp would give her a chance to ask. The more she knew, the more she wanted to learn.

  * * *

  Angelo paced in the kitchen, checking his watch as if he could make it change time.

  “I’m sure he’s fine,” Tom said. “Probably caught in traffic.”

  “On a Friday morning? No, he shoulda been here by now.”

  “Who?” his mother asked, making a direct line for the coffeepot as she joined them.

  He considered waiting to answer until she’d had her first cup. What the hell. “Sander Khodorov. He’s going to be working here with me.”

  She set the pot down by her cup, with her ready-to-fight face on.

  “He’s a nice kid, really.”

  Angelo watched the wheels in her head turn as she drank down half her mug of coffee in a hostile silence. Tom sat silently at the table.

  Finally she spoke again. “He’s not staying the weekend?”

  “No, Ma. Just getting set up today. Next week he’ll stay up at the Big House.”

  “Don’t tell me that was Gino’s idea. Not if he knows the kid is…you know.”

  “The whole world knows.” Angelo considered telling her about him and Sander. No, too soon. “I asked him to put Sander up, as a favor to me. Give us both a break sometimes.”

  Her face lost its hard edge. “You sure that’s a good idea? We could make space down here if—”

  A rattle of the knob on the front door, followed by an impatient knock, interrupted her. Tom stood and turned to go answer it, looking briefly to Angelo.

  “If it’s Sander, let him in,” Angelo instructed. The rest went unspoken.

  Tom opened the front door, while Angelo listened from the kitchen, shushing his mother. “You Ricky Antonopolus?”

  “Who wants to know?” Ricky sounded, as Angelo expected, deeply annoyed.

  “Tom Taylor,” Angelo heard Tom say, and pictured him politely offering his hand, a human blockade with manners.

  “Who is it, Tommy?” Jackie called from the kitchen.

  “Ricky, ma’am. To see Angelo.”

  “Hold on,” Jackie yelled toward the foyer. She glared at Angelo, whispering, “Why do you always mess with him?”

  Ang kissed his mother on the cheek and shrugged. “Can’t resist.”

  Tom and Ricky stood in the foyer, watching each other silently.

  “Thanks, Tom,” Angelo said, with a toss of his head toward the kitchen. Tom nodded and walked through the door, out of sight.

  “What?” Angelo asked.

  “I need their IDs. To run backgrounds.”

  Angelo crossed his arms over his chest. “They’re my friends. I vouch for them.”

  “Gino don’t know them. Just give me three IDs, for God’s sake. Why you gotta bust my balls over every little thing?”

  “Because you waste my time on stupid shit. You wanna know who they are? Go check your Google. American soldiers held captive in Fallujah. Then run whatever you want. I’m going back to work.”<
br />
  Angelo turned to leave, but stopped when Ricky said, “Hey. I already did that. Your girlfriend don’t look right.”

  Angelo spun back and smacked Ricky on the back of the head, enough to sting. “She spent months in the hospital, you asshole. She may not look like she did before, but she looks just fine. I hear you say anything around her, I will break your fucking jaw. We clear?”

  Ricky opened the door with one hand, rubbing his head with the other. “Shit. I didn’t mean it like that. She just looks different, that’s all.” He stepped out, then stuck his head back in. “Ang?”

  “What?”

  “Is the other guy gonna show up? The blond one?”

  Angelo saw through the open doorway the towheaded Russian getting out of his car. “Who? Sander?”

  “No, you idiot. The other guy that got took with you.”

  Angelo sighed. “No, Rick. Palmer was killed. Next time, read the words that go with the pictures.”

  “Hey,” Sander said and beeped his car lock with the key fob.

  Ricky flinched. “Jesus! Don’t sneak around like that.” He backed away from the door, leaving Sander ample room to enter the house. “You could get hurt.”

  “I’ll keep your razor-sharp reflexes in mind,” Sander said, a smile in just his eyes as he glanced at Angelo. “Ready to work?”

  “Yeah. Let me show you the office, and then I’ll take you up to the Big House,” Angelo offered. He looked at Ricky. “His room’s ready, right?” He took the shrug as a confirmation. “’Kay, then. See ya.”

  As the door closed behind him, Sander asked, “What’s with him?”

  Angelo rolled his eyes. “He’s not allowed to hit you. And he’s afraid to like you. It hurts his brain.”

  * * *

  Rose tied on an apron and started pulling supper ingredients from the fridge. Her knee felt fine, thanks to ice and an easy day at the dojo. Each of the teens she partnered with had reminded her to be careful, and Hannah herself had checked for swelling and range of motion at lunch. Rose had promised to rest and recover all weekend.

  If she tried, she could imagine tonight as just a Friday evening at home with friends. Practically normal, except for the armed guards at the gatehouse. And in the driveway, those ridiculous Humvees. As nice as Tom and Dev seemed, it was hard to forget why they were here.

  “Hey,” Maji said from behind her.

  Rose nearly dropped the bundle of asparagus. She swore and spun around. “Do you have to do that?”

  “Do what?”

  Rose sighed. “I’m sorry. I guess I need a weekend off from play danger in the dojo and real danger at home.”

  “Yeah. Me, too.” Maji looked weary. “You really want to cook for a crowd tonight? We didn’t poison you last night, we could do it again.” Some sparkle returned to her eyes.

  “No, I need this. It helps me relax.”

  “Well, your sous-chef’s lounging around with your lazy-ass cousin,” Maji said with a little up nod toward Angelo and Frank by the pool. “May I help?”

  Rose gave a passing thought to Maji’s language. She had perfect, polite academic English whenever she chose, and a tendency to slip little words or phrases in that connected her with whomever she was speaking with. Without seeming like she was mimicking them. Was that part of being a linguist? Or was it uniquely Maji? She brushed the distraction away. “Sure. Start by picking some music.”

  Maji plucked Rose’s iPod out of its speaker base and scrolled through the offerings. “Nora Jones Prozac soothing, or Buena Vista Social Club?”

  “Not that mellow, and not Cuban, please.” Rose didn’t want to think about the big party coming up. Not tonight.

  “Okay. Brazil it is.”

  The playful rhythms and silky sound of Portuguese being sung while they worked quietly together unwound the tightness in Rose’s chest. Maji chopped in time to the music and softly sang along, seeming to taste the words as they left her mouth. Rose realized with a little tremor that if this were a normal summer, and they were alone tonight, dinner would never make it into the oven. Maji looked up and smiled, and Rose wondered if she was thinking the same thing.

  “So,” Rose said, more brightly than she meant to, “Ang says you two are going out tomorrow night.”

  The private smile vanished. “Date night.”

  “Ouch, cara mia.” Angelo spoke through the screen door, before letting himself in to join them. “Don’t sound so excited.”

  “At least take her somewhere nice,” Rose said. “Like Brio.” The little hidden gem of a restaurant on the North Fork served only seasonal fare from the local farms and fish caught from the Sound that same morning. She pictured sharing a table for two with Maji, looking out at the water together, knees touching under the tablecloth.

  “Not Ri’s speed,” Angelo responded. “Anyway, nobody’s watching where we go. All that counts is we do.”

  Maji cut him a sideways look. “And you get out of going bouncing with Ricky.”

  In reply to Rose’s questioning look, Angelo explained, “He wants to drag me around to the clubs to brag about the great deal with Khodorov. I told him I had to take my girl out, keep her happy since she’s stuck here. So he thinks I’m pussy-whipped, but so what?”

  “I hate that expression,” Rose said. “So where to, then?”

  He grinned. “I was thinking Mona’s Dive-In. You want to join us?”

  Maji stood to look him in the eye and fired off a string of guttural sounds that could only have been a series of objections in Arabic.

  Angelo put a hand on Maji’s shoulder and said gently, “Babe, let her go out while she still can. We’ll take security.” To Rose he added, “’Course, it would look better if you had a date, too.”

  Bubbles sprang to mind. “I think I can manage that.”

  Maji looked around the table at the odd new normal. Her team—what was left of it—hanging out in a suburban kitchen, joking and enjoying a great meal. Two nights in a row. It reminded her of dinners at Dev’s house on Fort Bragg, passing platters of his wife’s amazing Ayurvedic dishes. She wondered how Dev felt about being on assignment here, out of contact while so close. “How are Mira and the girls doing?”

  Dev looked up from his plate. “Great. They love Jersey.”

  Rose jumped in. “Angelo says you’re in the Reserves now.”

  “Yep, a weekend warrior. Sweeter than I could have guessed.”

  Maji blinked in surprise. Dev was a top operator. “Regular Reserves? Really?”

  “Really. Finally got to move back to New Jersey. Mira was sick of living on base, and now the girls have their grandparents right next door.”

  Well, maybe now he’d go to med school. “How long you been out?”

  “Twenty-six days.” Longer than either of them had ever spent at Fort Bragg between ops. “Don’t worry, I’m still in fighting shape. Ma’am.”

  Maji bet he would rather be with his family right now, catching up. But any one of them would have dropped everything and come, for Angelo. A look passed among the four surviving teammates.

  Rose looked to Tom. “And what about you? Are you in the Reserves now, too?”

  “Me? No. I’m just on leave. I always wanted to see Long Island. The way Angelo talked it up, I was expecting surfer girls and clambakes on the beach.” He laughed, and the rest of the table smiled with him.

  “Classic bait and switch,” Jackie said, patting Angelo’s hand as if she was proud of him for it.

  Rose turned to Maji. “And you?”

  “Select Reserves,” Angelo answered for her.

  “Same-same, only different,” Dev offered.

  Rose looked quizzically at him. But he simply looked at Maji. Thanks, dude.

  “Same idea,” Maji said. “One weekend a month of training, plus two weeks once a year.”

  “But they can call her up at any time,” Tom added. Maji cringed inwardly.

  “Any time? As in, they could just call you tomorrow, while you’re here? No m
atter what you’re doing, where you’re working? No matter that you have commitments?”

  “Theoretically,” Maji admitted. When she had been on the team, they had often deployed with just a few hours’ notice. She hoped to get the luxury of a few days’ notice once she officially started in her new status.

  Angelo smiled at Rose. “Don’t worry, babe. She’ll be here.”

  Rose frowned at him, looking annoyed. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just…that’s a lot to ask, isn’t it? People have jobs, and families. Why be a Reservist at all, if you can’t count on being at home?”

  “Free baggage check,” Maji deadpanned.

  “What?”

  Tom smiled. “Select Reserves get active duty perks.”

  “Half off at Great Adventure,” Maji added.

  Dev rolled his eyes. “Second Tuesday of every month.”

  Tom puffed up, suppressing a grin. “Thank you for your service.”

  “We support our troops!” Angelo proclaimed, with air quotes.

  Jackie shook her head. “You kids.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Mona showed the party of four past the Closed for Private Party sign into a room with tables, but no patrons, and a jukebox. “You expecting anybody else, sweetie?” she asked Maji.

  “No. But Tom on the front door and Dev out back could use some supper. Thanks.” Maji paused. “Mona, this is Rose DiStephano, from the other night.”

  Mona covered her mouth, then beamed at Rose. “Of course! Thank you for coming back here, hon.”

  “We promised her a mocha shake,” Bubbles offered.

  Maji rolled her eyes. “And this is Rose’s cousin, Angelo.”

  “Hey,” he said, offering his hand. “Thanks for hosting us. I know it’s a lot to ask on a Saturday night.”

  “For these two, anything,” she said, then turned back to Maji. “Thank God you’re home safe.” She stepped back, blinking hard, and cleared her throat. “Lemme grab some menus.”

  After they ordered, Angelo fed the jukebox, and the sound of “Bad Moon Rising” filled the room. Bubbles paced over to the jukebox, gave it a bump with her hip, and punched in a new selection, “La Bamba.”