Adam

by Irish Winters

  “Easy,” Connor murmured beside her. “It might be armed.”

  Number Three, the drone she’d punched, resumed its previous position. It clicked once, then two times in quick succession. Another click, and—“Hello, Shannon Reagan.”

  Her jaw dropped. It talked? “How do you know my name?”

  “Protocol search engines retrieved a ninety-nine-point-eight percent match with the Reagan Industries database and federal databases. Therefore, you are Shannon Reagan. Daughter of Paul Reagan and wife, Olivia, now deceased. Ex-wife of Brit Paxton.” The drone pivoted to Connor, Izza, and Adam in turn. “You are Conner Maher. Isabella Maher. Adam Torrey. Employed by The TEAM in Alexandria, Virginia.”

  “What do you want?” Shannon tensed, remembering the solar-powered lasers that could melt a man in seconds. Number Three rotated another full circle before it tilted down toward Jimmy.

  Adam made a motion with his raised hand, prompting her to say something. She couldn’t tell what until he pantomimed shooting a gun with his thumb and index finger.

  Oh, the kill code. “God bless America,” she blurted out.

  Number Three whined then quietly settled to the ground. The other two powered down, too. The standoff was over.

  “You hit it!” Adam took hold of her hand, the biggest grin on his face.

  Connor blew out a big breath. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

  “Me neither.” It hadn’t dawned on her to just say the kill code. She thought she’d have to activate the onboard keyboard of each drone and type it in, or something just as difficult. Ha. The difference between how authors’ and an engineers’ minds worked. Amazing.

  “Now we’ve got problems. The murderer will be looking for his drones when they don’t return.” Izza jerked her thumb toward the communication device. “What were you going to tell us?”

  Adam held it up for all to see. “This little thing can connect to any social media site on the planet. And I mean any. It’s got email, too.”

  “Then who was that dead chick, and who was she talking to?” Izza demanded. “You got a profile picture? A name?”

  “That information isn’t posted, but she did communicate regularly with someone at Reagan Industries.”

  All eyes turned to Shannon. “Don’t look at me I didn’t do it.”

  “No. Not you.” Connor clapped a hand to her shoulder. “You’re not behind any of this crap.”

  Adam held up a hand for silence. “Listen to this e-mail between TM and JB.”

  TM: Drop zone is prepared for your arrival.

  JB: Good. Pawn is in place.

  TM: Queen is open?

  JB: Yes. Queen is open. Consider everyone collateral damage.

  TM: Say again. Queen, too?

  JB: Yes. Yes. Queen, too.

  TM: HH will survive?

  JB: Most assuredly. You’ll have it within seven days.

  TM: How can you be sure?

  JB: I’ll be there.

  Adam looked up at Shannon from the screen. She got it. She was the queen. “Someone inside Reagan Industries deliberately planned this crash,” she whispered. “They meant to kill me, and steal the drones.” Her father’s calculating face flashed to mind. He was underhanded enough, but to murder his daughter? No. Absolutely not. He wouldn’t.

  Then who? In a flash, anyone and everyone who worked for her father became suspect. Well, all except Raul. He’d been through thick and thin with her. He wouldn’t be behind this.

  “You know any JBs or TMs?” Connor asked.

  A breath hissed out of her. Oh, my. TM? Could he? Would he? What have I done? “I told him everything.”

  “What, Shannon?” Adam asked. “Who did you talk to?”

  “I don’t know if it’s him. It couldn’t be him. He’s elderly, and he’s...” She gulped. “Those initials. TM. I called him the night before we took off. It couldn’t be him, but—”

  “Who?” Connor asked, his hand gentle on her shoulder again. “Who do you think it is, Shannon?”

  “My friend, Terrence Moore. He’s an engineer on the drone project. My father refused to give me access, so I called Terrence. Oh, Connor. You’re right. I did it. This is my fault. I told him everything. Only that doesn’t make sense. He cares about me and he gave me the kill code. Why would he do that if he wanted me dead?”

  “How old’s this Terrence dude?” Connor asked

  “He’s close to fifty or sixty, I think.”

  Connor rolled his eyes. “Wow. That old man’s got to be something if he HALO dropped onto our little island, killed Ramsey, murdered that gal we found, and sent the killer drones after us. Crap. You’re right. We’re screwed.”

  He made Shannon smile. He wasn’t so bad.

  “Are you two finished?” Adam asked, his brow raised at her snuggled in Connor’s arm. “Because whoever TM is, he’s signing off with a DPRK officer designation. He’s a captain.”

  “You sure?” Connor released Shannon to peer into the screen.

  “That’s the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea’s flag alright,” Izza declared. “I’d recognize the red star anywhere.”

  “If TM is a North Korean spy, we’re looking at some serious espionage,” Adam muttered. “Whoever JB is, he’s selling top-secret weaponry to an enemy.”

  “And it’s possible TM and JB are both on our island with us,” Connor added.

  “Then let’s go back to the cave and finish them.” Izza had changed into a hardened warrior. A handful of Chinese stars splayed like playing cards in her hand. “That JB jerk is going to come looking for his drones if we don’t. You coming, Connor?”

  He shot her a devil-may-care smile. “I’m whipped, I admit it. I’ll follow you anywhere, woman, just point the way.”

  “And you…” Izza took a step into Adam’s space. “You keep Shannon and our little boy safe. Can you handle that, Junior Agent?”

  Shannon had to smile. Diminutive Izza had her finger poked into the chest of the hulk towering over her. Adam could’ve easily pushed her aside and done as he’d pleased, but she looked like a mean bantam rooster, ready to take him down if he dared argue. Her chin jutted forward with defiance. For lack of a better word, Adam looked—obedient?

  “I’m not leaving her,” he said the words Shannon wanted and needed to hear as he circled an arm around her waist. “You two stay safe. Don’t let this JB person get past you.”

  “We won’t. Let’s go,” Connor said. “We’re taking the pistol. Remember. Keep an eye on the sky. Help’s on its way.”

  Izza snorted as they walked away. “One if by land, two if by sea, and an archangel by sky if I know the boss.”

  “Shouldn’t they wait until this storm passes?” Shannon asked, her eyes on the billowing thunderclouds stacked to the north. She edged in closer to the muscled warmth of Adam’s body. “I don’t think help can get to us through that storm. It’s going to be a bad one. Shouldn’t we look for cover?”

  Adam nestled his nose into the crook of her neck. “Shannon baby, I am the storm.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “Hang on tight!”

  The roar of the wind drowned out Adam’s command. With no way to escape the rain, he and Shannon huddled within the shelter of Banyan tree trunks. Squeaks was safe inside her shirt, wrapped in his sling and warm beneath the nylon windbreaker, another miracle item that Izza had packed for her tropical trip. Adam zipped Shannon and Squeaks up tight.

  The flimsy three-sided huts had already taken flight. Lightning crackled sideways in the sky and through the stacks of clouds. The driven rain pounded relentlessly.

  She should’ve kept her head down instead of looking up, but she didn’t. Water dripped off his head and into her upturned face. Adam had never beheld a more perfect picture of trust.

  In one fluid motion, he caught her to his mouth, plundering the sweet treasure she offered. She grasped his shoulders, maintaining enough distance not to crush the baby, but pouring everything into that simple contact of
flesh on flesh and heart on heart.

  His tongue traced the seam of her lips then tangled deeper. She melted into him. The storm wailed like a banshee, but a more magnificent thunder pounded in his soul. Trembling, he broke the connection to cup her rain-wet cheeks between his palms.

  “Shannon,” he whispered reverently, knowing she couldn’t hear him above the storm. No matter. It needed to be said, and he intended to say it a thousand times more. He mouthed them to be sure she got the message. “I love you.”

  She tipped her forehead into his lips, and he understood why she wasn’t afraid. Love was like that. It made her strong. It made him brave. Let nature rail around them. Let the howling wind bend the trees. As long as he and she were together, they were greater than the fury of any storm.

  “Beat it! Shoo!”

  Adam smiled at the change in Shannon. Motherhood was a good fit.

  For now, she rested with him and Squeaks beneath the shade of the banyan tree. The storm had passed quickly, but not before Mother Nature had stripped most of the leaves from the trees, tossed their cozy campsite-by-the-cove, and scoured Izza’s carefully collected stuff from the beach. Everything was gone, except what clever Izza had tied to the tree. Her half-empty carry-on. The metal pan. Half a dozen empty water bottles. Connor’s lonely boot.

  The recliners from the Gulfstream were now in the bushes, but still salvageable. Again. But those flimsy shacks Adam had wasted time and effort on? Gone like kites. The disabled UAVs still lay where they’d fallen, but the fire pit was a puddle of mud. It was a good thing Harley was on his way. Adam didn’t relish rebuilding what had been, at best, a hovel.

  Out of sheer exhaustion, Shannon slept until the baby fussed, but now she batted one spider after another out of her way. The eight-legged crawlers seemed to have come out with the rain, but the second they dropped down from the branches, she gave them a good flick of her hand and sent them flying. Her squeamishness was gone with the wind, too.

  The intimacy of holding her while she nursed sparked an overwhelming feeling in Adam. Was it fatherhood or family? He honestly didn’t know, but wow. It had happened fast, and it hit him hard. One moment, he was a throwaway boyfriend. The next, he was ready to fight the world for the woman he loved.

  “I saw when you took your clothes off,” she whispered shyly.

  “Planned it that way.” He nestled his chin into the crook of her neck, pleased she’d mentioned his brief moment of nudity.

  “I’d like to see it again.”

  “It?” he teased.

  The reddest blush consumed her face. “I meant your butt, maybe it, too.”

  Cupping her jaw, he angled for another taste. They were at the kissing stage of their relationship. Tastes and nibbles of each other that couldn’t wait. The moment they parted, he wanted more, so this time he let himself get lost in the flavor of her heated mouth.

  Her quiet moan splashed fire through his veins, which he instantly quelled. Squeaks needed her. Adam stilled his aching desire, breaking their contact. Heart-poundingly tempting with a babe at her breast, Shannon smiled demurely, her hand soft and gentle on his jaw.

  “Adam,” she murmured, and he was lost. He blinked, but the spell of this woman entangled his soul, pulling him in deeper.

  “Shannon,” he said huskily, not sure what his mouth might say next. If he didn’t get his feelings under control, it wouldn’t matter that she’d just given birth. He’d be ravishing little Squeaks’ mother right there in the sand. Breaking the gentle connection, Adam settled for his nose in her hair and bland conversation that wouldn’t throw sparks. “Tell me about yourself. What do you do for a living?”

  She sighed. “I used to be a writer and a publisher.”

  “Oh, yeah? That’s cool.”

  “It was. I owned a small boutique press. I was living my dream.”

  He heard the wistful note in her voice. “But your daddy had different plans for you. I got the impression you were out of your depth that day in the office.”

  “What gave me away? Throwing up all over your boots?”

  “You didn’t throw up on me,” he whispered. “You just looked like you had your back against the wall, like you thought you had to fight us all.”

  “You were so mad at me.”

  “No, I was angry at your father. He’d leveled some pretty damning charges against me, but then he didn’t have the guts to show up and say them to my face. He sent you to do his dirty work.”

  She scrunched her shoulders. “I’m supposed to take over the company. He thinks throwing me into the fire will help me learn.”

  “He’s a bully. He’s just trying to control you, Shannon. You shouldn’t let him. Tell him ‘hell no’ once in a while.”

  “It’s easier said than done.” Her voice grew quieter.

  Adam cupped her chin, turning her to meet his eyes. “Listen. You’re a strong woman; you just don’t know it. Who braved the giant spiders to get food for the rest of us?”

  “Me.” She blinked up at him, and darn, he wanted to kiss her again.

  “And who brought fire out of the ocean so we could roast those godawful bananas?”

  “We didn’t roast bananas.” She scrunched her shoulders again, and that little-girl quality wasn’t lost on Adam. The spark he’d been fighting sprang to life.

  “And who...” He groped for some of the other things she’d done, but logic faded fast. “Oh, yeah. Who cleaned Izza’s hurt leg? Who wrapped my broken ribs?”

  If she wasn’t convinced of her strength, he was. Industrial strength. That was Shannon through and through, and he was swept along with her. A ray of reflected light off the horizon caught his attention. Could it be?

  “Look there. Do you see it?”

  She followed his direction. “What is it?”

  They both leaned forward. The glitter grew into a ship, and then another, this one farther west, but approaching as rapidly as the first.

  “Adam. Look up there. In the sky.” She pointed overhead where a man dangled from the canopy of a white parachute.

  Adam tensed, unwilling to assume friend over foe. The intruder drifted down, and with a running step, landed on their beach. Dressed in a gray flight suit and black helmet, there was no way to know who’d just landed. The man promptly unfastened and dropped the rucksack strapped to his back. The minute he peeled off his helmet though, Adam took off running. “Harley! Damn, man. Is that you?”

  “Hey!” Harley caught him in a thumping man-hug. The guy never looked so good.

  “How’d you get here so fast?”

  “Been in Hawaii since you guys went down. The whole world’s looking for you.” Harley Mortimer was a danged welcome sight. He leaned his chin into the two-way radio pinned at his shoulder. “Touchdown, Boss. In contact with Adam. He looks good.”

  “Keep me advised,” Alex’s disembodied voice crackled.

  “Copy that.” Harley reached into a rear pocket and pulled out two pistols. He tossed one to Adam, quickly followed by a couple of extra magazines, while he scanned the island.

  “Is he in Hawaii, too?” Unbelievable.

  “Hell, no,” Harley nodded at the smaller boats now fast approaching, one from each ship. “You know Alex. He’s been on the USS George Washington for a couple days now. Least he was. He might be in one of those utility boats headed our way. You know how he is.”

  Adam’s brows lifted at that impressive statement. He’d been on the GW, a Nimitz-class nuclear-powered super carrier only once in his career in the Caribbean. That the United States Navy was there on that specific aircraft carrier meant the President was prepared go to war to protect the drones, but also—that Alex cared enough to personally search for his missing agents. It put a lump in Adam’s throat.

  “Donavan’s dead?” Harley asked.

  Adam swallowed hard and got back to the business of being rescued. “Connor and Izza went after his killer. The bastard’s on the other side of the island. He sent the drones after us, but Shannon di
sabled them.” While Harley peeled out of his harness, Adam rolled his parachute into a manageable bundle and stuffed it into the bag hanging from Harley’s belt.

  “Damn.” Harley’s gaze rested on the mounded graves. “Is that him?”

  Adam sobered. “Yes, and the flight crew. Ramsey and the Korean gal are farther down.”

  “Let’s get off this beach. It’s about to get crowded. One of those boats coming ashore is Navy, most likely with Alex onboard.” Harley glanced over his shoulder. “The other’s North Korean. GW’s commander already told them to stand down, but they refused.”

  “They’re after the drones,” Adam stated.

  Shannon stood in the shade of the Banyan, one hand shielding her eyes as they approached.

  “Well, well, well,” Harley chuckled. “It’s sure good to see you again, Miss Reagan. Alex said there was a new baby boy in town. What’s his name, darlin'?”

  “James Malone.” Shannon glanced shyly at Adam. Her choice of names only intensified his feelings for the little guy and for her.

  “He’s as small as a June bug.” Harley caressed the baby’s cheek with the back of his index finger. “I’ve got twin sons, Sponge Bob and The Beast.”

  “Oh, my. What kinds of names are those?” she asked.

  “Wait until you meet them,” Adam said, “then you’ll know. They’re just like their dad.”

  Harley took the hit with a lopsided-grin. “And what’s wrong with being handsome-as-hell and a better shot than you with a long rifle?”

  The normal banter was a welcome relief. Adam could’ve spent more time chatting, but it had to wait. “We’ve got trouble, Shannon. One of those boats headed our way is North Korean. The other’s Navy.”

  Harley pulled a small baby blue package out of his rucksack and tossed it to Shannon. “This is for your little guy, some diapers, a blanket, and stuff. Nothing fancy—it’s just something to get him ready to travel. We don’t have a lot of time.”

  He pulled several more pistols, a sawed-off, and a dozen more magazines from his rucksack. “Listen. Technically, we’re in international waters. This island doesn’t belong to any country, but our President would prefer the North Koreans don’t take the drones with them when they leave.” He tossed Adam a plastic carton of grenades, two noise-cancelling headsets, and two gas masks. “Time to gear up, Adam. Shannon, if things get ugly, keep your headset and mask on. Take cover. Got it?”