Strictly Need to Know

by MB Austin

  Angelo sat Maji down on the bed in Carlo’s room. “When you said you wouldn’t work with Iris, this isn’t quite what I pictured.”

  He watched Maji square her shoulders and train her eyes on the wall beyond him. Good soldier Rios, prepared to accept whatever discipline he called for. That thousand-yard stare worried him more than her breaking protocol earlier. She was always in danger of beating herself up over relatively small stuff. And he needed her back on her game. “This is where you tell me it won’t happen again, Staff Sergeant.”

  “Dev said she knocked me out.”

  He’d been passed out in Mashriki’s tent when the women of the camp, led by Iris, had risen up. But he’d gotten a thorough briefing from JSOC during his layup at Walter Reed. From the sound of it, if Iris hadn’t cold-cocked her lover, the heroic Sergeant Rios would have earned a medal for taking dozens of enemy combatant lives. And every one of them would have torn Ri to shreds inside. “I heard that, too. Not so pissed at her now, are you?”

  “Doesn’t make it any easier to look at her.” Maji shifted her gaze down. “She asked me to lunch, for fuck’s sake.”

  He chuckled. “Sucks to be you, babe.” Her glare in response only served to reassure him. “Some point, you gotta talk to her. But today we got bigger worries.”

  She gave him a skeptical look, but took the iPod and earbuds he handed her.

  On the audio, Ricky showed Uncle Lupo to the door at the Big House. Then his high-tops squeaked back over the foyer floor to the carpeted living room, and he phumphed down on the couch.

  “How come you didn’t tell him about the drone?” Ricky asked.

  “Lupo talks to Khodorov,” Gino answered, sounding vexed. “And I don’t want that asshole thinking we don’t have things covered here. I’m with Ang on that.”

  “But this guy’s sending hovercraft onto our property. And feeding me instructions. He’s creepy.”

  “Since when are you afraid of a messenger boy? You’re making me rethink your place in my organization now.”

  “I’m not afraid. It’s just, he keeps showing up from nowhere and telling me things, like what’s on the daily specials at my folks’ restaurant.”

  “You think I can’t stand up to some Russian fuck who doesn’t even have the balls to come to me directly?”

  “’Course you can, G. It’s just…”

  “Rick! Look at me.” Gino paused. “Who do you answer to?”

  “You.”

  “Okay, so try and pay attention for once. Just because a guy scares you, and you play along a little, doesn’t mean you have to give him anything of real value. You keep telling me what they ask you for, and I’ll keep telling you how to handle them.”

  “What if Khodorov finds out?”

  There was a smacking sound. “Goddammit! I worry about all the Russians, got it? There is a reason I run this organization and you run around collecting the vig for me. Do you even know why you put Frank in the hospital?”

  “You said to. And I do what you say.”

  “Jesus,” Gino swore. “First off, you nearly fucking killed him. And then who would I have down there for eyes and ears on that Khodorov kid? Second, Khodorov gets wind that anybody here told Sirko anything, even the crap we’re feeding him, somebody’s gonna go down for that. You want that to be you, or Frank?”

  “Oh,” Ricky replied. “Oh. Gotcha.”

  Maji handed the iPod back to Angelo and lay back on the bed. “Double-dealing runs in the family, doesn’t it?”

  His wry smile said yes. “Gino’s a Benedetti, for sure. More ambitious than Grandpa or Pop, and greedier than both put together. He was smart, he’d tell Khodorov and ask for protection. But he’s just not wired that way.”

  “But you’re going to get the program to Sirko somehow, aren’t you?”

  “That’s outside mission parameters,” Angelo answered. “And more than you need to know.”

  “Does Hannah know?” As Angelo’s support she should, but then as JSOC’s consultant she’d also be bound to tell Command.

  “She’s on board.” He didn’t explain further.

  “And Tom? Dev?”

  “I’m keeping them insulated. Like you, if you’d stop asking questions.”

  She let that sink in. It wasn’t the first time the team had chosen a course of action that would make them unsung heroes if they succeeded and hang them out to dry if they didn’t. “Does JSOC know you’re bringing Iris in?”

  He paused long enough that she knew he wished he could rewind the whole conversation. “No. And I’m sorry that I had to tell you. But when they debrief you later, at least you can say you didn’t know why.”

  Maji doubted the addition of Sirko as a second high-value target was Angelo’s only secret. Or that he really planned to sit in a black-ops prison, taking the blame for going off mission to keep the rest of them out of hot water. Which only left one real exit strategy—and it wasn’t going off grid. Her stomach knotted. Hannah must know. She looked at him levelly, careful not to reveal her suspicions, and reminded herself to breathe. “Hell,” she lied, “I can honestly tell Command that I didn’t want to know.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “What do you mean, we can’t go?” Rose demanded. After realizing she had overslept, and rushing down to the kitchen, this was the last news she had expected. When had they decided this, without her input, as usual? Rose reminded herself she had promised to bend her own desires to fit their safety needs, but…she had been looking forward to another week of camp. Besides, if they didn’t show up, the girls would worry. Bubbles would be disappointed. And worst, she’d fall behind, maybe lose what she’d already learned.

  “You started to like it, then?” Angelo asked.

  Rose bristled at his surprise. “Did you really think that I was just tagging along, trying to stay close to Maji? Dammit! Ri. Give me a little credit.”

  He ignored her slip, and her ire. “Okay, so you’re actually learning stuff. That’s great, but—”

  “Don’t you patronize me, Ang. You have no idea what it’s like to walk through this world as a target, to always weigh what you want to do against your fears. I’m not getting banged up and worn out in the dojo for fun, you know.”

  “I’m sorry, hon. At least a day or two, you gotta show your face around here.” He paused. “Rios, will you get down here already?”

  Dammit to hell—had they been having this argument with an audience? She sank into a kitchen chair and leaned her face in one hand. “When do we get our lives back?”

  “Fifth of July, babe,” Angelo answered.

  “Or you could opt for the safe house.” Maji sounded like she’d been up long enough for coffee. Rose watched her stride across the kitchen and open the fridge like she owned the place.

  Why even dignify that with an answer? “What are you doing in there?”

  Maji stopped rummaging and laid an egg carton on the counter. “Desayuno.” Breakfast.

  “Really? And what can you cook?” Rose cringed inwardly at her snippy tone. What was wrong with her today?

  “Pancakes, scones, crepes. Quiche, strata, scrambles, omelets, hash. Also, migas and chilaquiles. What do you feel like?” Maji’s offer came across as a peace offering.

  This isn’t her fault. “I feel like an ass.” Rose sighed and stood up, eyeing the coffeemaker. “Did you say chilaquiles?”

  “Yeah, but we’re all out of ass,” Maji answered, giving her a wicked grin.

  Sander came in, followed by Frank, while they were finishing breakfast.

  “You’re hungry, grab a plate,” Maji offered.

  He gave her a perfunctory smile. “No thanks. Nonna fed me.”

  “Mrs. B cooks for you?” Frank looked like he’d been slapped. “She likes you?”

  Sander shrugged. “I guess. Or maybe she’s just old school. Keep your friends close, your enemies closer.”

  Or maybe, Maji thought, maybe she wants to check the secret boyfriend out for herself. She exchanged a l
ook with Rose.

  “Ang is working downstairs,” Rose said. “Take some coffee?”

  Sander shook his head and looked at his watch. “By now he’s overamped. I’ll take him water and make him use that weight machine.”

  “Oh,” Rose said. She sounded like the thought of someone taking care of Angelo surprised her. But then, Rose had no idea how Ang worked his targets. “Well, we’re going up to the Big House—Ang wants us to help with party planning.”

  Sander looked directly at Maji. “For the Fourth? Talk to me later about security.”

  “We’re strictly food and music,” she protested.

  “We’ll need to vet the contractors before any arrangements are approved,” he countered.

  Maji headed for the doorway to the dining room, and then upstairs to don her daytime Ri apparel. “Whatever. But first we get to taste the free food samples.”

  * * *

  As soon as she heard Sander’s and Angelo’s voices murmuring from the basement, Rose closed the door at the top of the stairs and gave Frank a hug.

  “Missed you, too, hon.” He stepped back from her embrace. “But why are you home? It’s Tuesday, right?”

  Rose sighed. “Apparently Gino is worried for our safety, so we’re locked in.”

  “’Cause of that drone thing?” Frank’s face registered the surprise Rose showed. “Ang had me show the guys where to stash it.”

  So. He still trusts you. Rose went to the refrigerator and added salsa to the grocery list. She paused before adding tampons to the list.

  “If we’re going to the mattresses, best to put down everything you can think of,” Frank said. “I’ll do a big run this afternoon, lay in supplies.”

  “Going to the what?” Rose asked.

  “The mattresses—you, know, like in The Godfather,” he elaborated. “You still haven’t watched those? Not one, two, or three?”

  “No. Not Scarface or Goodfellas, or any of the others either.” She leaned one hip against a counter. “What does it mean, Frank?”

  “Well, in the movie there’s a war between the Families, and all the guys bunk together and don’t go nowhere alone. All the food gets brought in, and one guy cooks for all of them.” He shrugged. “I haven’t done it since ’77, when Mickey Spillane got whacked and all hell broke loose. Also, Star Wars came out.”

  Rose laughed. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

  “Your mother was just a kid then. All her friends were going, and she drove Max nuts bugging him to sneak her out to see it.”

  “Uncle Max?”

  “Yeah. She knew Mr. and Mrs. B would never go for it. Anyway, I helped.” His face betrayed an internal struggle before he spoke again. “You really miss camp so much?”

  Rose touched her ear. “Are you on the comm?” And privy to my arguments with Ang?

  “Yeah. But I’m listen-only right now. This here’s private.”

  Rose resisted hugging him again. “Well, yes then. But…if this Sirko really is such a danger, I don’t want to cause problems by being selfish.”

  “Ain’t your fault you’re a Benedetti,” he reassured her. “You didn’t pick this family.”

  Rose thought of her mother’s similar words, and a startling thought occurred to her. “Frank. You must know who my father is.” His immediate reddening only confirmed her suspicion. “You do!”

  “Nah, hon. I got theories—everybody does. But only Mrs. B knows for sure. And I don’t bet you wanna ask her.”

  “I did,” Rose said. That summer Carlo had put his hands on her, and she had stayed in the Big House the rest of her visit. Nonna had tucked her in that night, and Rose had summoned up the courage to ask, “Did you send Mom away because you were ashamed of her? For getting pregnant.”

  Nonna had turned around and stood square in the open doorway, backlit by the hall light. Rose couldn’t see her face, but she sounded hurt. “Is that what she tells you?”

  “No, I just guessed.”

  “Well, don’t guess about other people’s lives, their feelings. Always ask.” She sounded so stern, but Rose had learned already to see past Nonna’s brusqueness.

  “So?” she had prodded.

  “Every teenager in history wants sex, hon, and most of them find it. I was disappointed she wasn’t smarter about it, but I was never, ever ashamed of her. If she’d stayed here, she’d have married some wiseguy, and she deserved better. I sent her away to get a life.”

  And with that, Nonna had turned and firmly closed the door. Rose never asked again.

  “Um, what’d she say?” Frank didn’t sound certain he wanted to know.

  “That it was better for me to not know, I guess.” Rose felt bad paraphrasing, but the actual words her grandmother used were insulting to Frank.

  “Well, there you go then.”

  Maji scanned the sky as she and Rose walked back from the Big House.

  “Were drones common in Iraq?” Rose asked her.

  A loaded question. The team knew surveillance drones from using them, in many countries that did not include Iraq. “No,” Maji answered. “In Iraq, UAVs—unmanned aerial vehicles—are usually bigger, fly up out of range of ground munitions, and announce their presence by launching a missile.”

  “Oh.” Rose walked silently beside her. “I probably shouldn’t ask about the war, anyway.”

  “If you don’t mind my not answering sometimes, I don’t mind your asking.” Oddly enough, that was true.

  Rose’s hand brushed her arm lightly. “Thank you. And I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have blown up at Angelo like that, or sniped at you. Would it be very unfeminist of me to blame it on PMS?”

  “One, if that’s a blowup, you may just be a saint, like your mother. Two, I’m glad you like camp that much. And three, you don’t need PMS to be wound up by the last few days. Hell, you’ve heard me melt down, and I don’t have that excuse ever, anymore.”

  Rose stopped and looked at her. “You don’t have…?”

  The worried look on her face, combined with the hands genteely circling her abdomen made Maji laugh. “Not like that. Uterus yes, period no. Happens to a lot of female soldiers. By now I thought, maybe. But, no.”

  “Wow. I guess that’s a good thing when you’re…downrange?”

  “Yeah, it’s handy in the field.” Maji started walking again, and waited for Rose to fall in beside her. “Anyway, I probably need to gain some body fat back.”

  Rose opened her mouth and shut it again, no doubt thinking better of her reply. “Which caterer’s food did you like best?”

  Five businesses had brought samples. Three were clearly Mexican, one sort of generically Latin, and the third served actual Cuban fare. “The Latin fusion stuff was okay. But Cuba Libre won hands down, for me.” Plus, it was the FBI’s cover business, headed by Rey. Maji knew who the contract would go to.

  “For me, too,” Rose agreed. “I was impressed with how you handled Aunt Paola and Sienna. I didn’t know Ri had such finesse.”

  Maji chuckled. “Civil Affairs is all about diplomacy. Which is code for getting others to play nice.”

  “That’s like camp,” Rose said, wistfulness creeping into her voice. “I love the scenarios where we get to use words instead of fighting.”

  Maji held her peace. Rose was a natural in scenarios. If she kept her cool like that in real life, she’d do fine.

  “Don’t you have some obligation to Hannah to teach?” Rose asked.

  Was Rose playing her? Compliments followed by a request…Well, hard to blame her. “She understands.”

  “But you’re really good with the girls,” Rose pressed. “And I can tell it’s important to you. If it helps, I can stay here and you can go solo.”

  Shit. Rose really didn’t play games. In Maji’s experience, that made her rare. And nearly impossible to outplay. “Well, I missed four whole years in a row for the Army. I can miss a few days or weeks for this.”

  As they approached Angelo’s house, Maji noticed
both Humvees were back. She wondered what excuse Angelo was using with Gino to account for Jackie’s outings for lunches and golf and her real estate classes.

  “But how can you just give up what you love doing, being with the people you care about?”

  Maji saw the sympathy in Rose’s eyes and put up a wall inside to block it. “Practice.”

  Rose didn’t know which surprised her more—how they got to the dojo the rest of the week, or that Angelo had approved it.

  “Whose car did you hotwire today?” Bubbles asked with a cheeky grin.

  Rose objected, “She doesn’t hotwire them.” Each morning, they had left the estate in the usual parade of cars, all decoys except the one Maji drove. Then in one quiet neighborhood or another, they’d park the Benedetti car and change to another, borrowed from a driveway or shady street.

  Maji walked into the locker room, empty now but for the three of them. “I do know how.”

  “Sure you do,” Bubbles replied. “And someday you’ll show me.”

  “Your car’s a P-O-S, why don’t I demonstrate right now?”

  “Because I need my piece-of-shit car. To get places without stealing.”

  Neither of them was smiling now, Rose noticed. Why they’d fight, she couldn’t imagine.

  Maji’s eyes flitted to the clock on the wall, and back to Bubbles. “You coming to Hannah’s?”

  “No. She said not to.” Bubbles’s expression softened at last. “But I could crash it.”

  Maji shook her head. “Nah. Thanks.”

  They hugged briefly, and Rose smiled. Bubbles wanted to protect Maji, and Maji knew it, but neither of them would say it outright. Real sisters, blood notwithstanding.

  Bubbles let herself out of the dojo, while Maji stopped at the door of Hannah’s office, Rose waiting in the hallway behind her.

  “What time tonight?” Maji asked her godmother.

  “Let’s say seven,” Hannah replied.

  “Hooah,” Maji said, adding a curt nod.

  “I beg your pardon?”