by Dawn Ryder
“I’m not,” Ricky was quick to cut back. “Didn’t have to call you, either. I know you’re not a man to cross.”
“Explain what you mean by incentive.” Kagan’s tone was guarded.
“A contract on Miranda Delacroix isn’t coming from anyone who you dick with,” Ricky said, laying the information on the table. “To get the hitman to come in, I need something really good, like the deal you made me.”
“Legitimate passport?” Kagan asked. “That’s harder than you realize.”
“So is convincing the guy to cross whoever put the hit out before he puts a slug through Miranda’s skull,” Ricky replied. “Fact is, I’m not sure he’ll answer me, but if he does, I can’t put him on hold while I call you.”
“So why did you call me first?” Kagan asked.
“I know who holds my leash.” Ricky didn’t like admitting it, either. “You find out I saw pictures of your nest location up for auction and you might just decide to make sure I know you meant it when you told me to retire but keep my nose clean. It didn’t take much for me to connect the dots between those pictures and the attempt made on Miranda’s life. I know how to contact the hitman. Want me to try and get him to roll over?”
“Yes,” Kagan replied quickly. “I’ll give you what you need. Get on a plane and get stateside.”
The line died.
Ricky realized he felt something odd. A sensation rolling through him that put a grin on his lips, but not the happy-go-lucky one he’d learned to use when he was in effect telling the world to go fuck itself.
This was something else.
Almost like he felt decent about himself for a change. Alone, with just himself, he realized there was no reason to put up a front. He’d done the right thing, something to make the world a slightly better place.
His mother would have approved.
Now, who in the hell would have thought he’d go and do something like pleasing his mom?
The world was a funny place at times.
* * *
Waiting was a large part of what special agents did.
Vitus looked like he was sleeping. His brother was stretched out with his booted feet on a battered coffee table and his head leaned back with his face toward the ceiling. He appeared to be dozing, like he’d just polished off a Thanksgiving plate full of turkey and stuffing.
Saxon knew better.
Vitus was conserving his strength. Taking a load off his feet while he could, as they both waited for their fellow Shadow Ops agent to arrive.
Greer McRae made it to their location a couple of hours later. He flashed them a grin on his way through the door. Most of the properties Shadow Ops teams used were ones where the residents had very recently died. They could get in, set up a command post, get work done, and then move on before any of the neighbors got wise or, more importantly, before they popped up on an Internet trace. In a world of cell-phone towers, classified work was going back to landlines.
Today though, the house they’d taken over had its windows boarded up as it waited to be demolished as part of a freeway expansion. Greer looked at the cobwebs and thick dust before he closed the door and sealed them inside the dimly lit room. The furniture left behind was battered and too torn up for even a garage sale.
“This is an armpit,” Greer remarked as he sank onto what had once been a nice sofa. Now, it was a shredded mess, the foam discolored by sun exposure.
“The resident couldn’t get out of his two-year package deal,” Saxon replied. “Giving us an active phone and cable line.”
“Even with that,” Vitus said as he sat up. “I’m guessing it’s still going to be hard for you to pinpoint Dunn Bateson.”
“We’ve used Dunn’s reclusive nature to our advantage in the past,” Greer said. The tone of voice he used made it clear he wasn’t happy about being asked to find Dunn. “Sure you want to piss him off by getting between him and Thais?”
“We need to find Thais before the FBI does,” Saxon responded. “They aren’t sharing information very well. If they dump her into a holding facility, she might be dead before we can get her transferred.”
“I’m here,” Greer offered begrudgingly. He was setting up his laptop, connecting to the Internet, and watching the screen as his messages loaded. “But I’ll warn you, Dunn doesn’t like the way Thais’s gender is used in operations.”
Greer’s Scottish sense was coming through. Shadow Ops teams drew agents from all sorts of backgrounds but Greer was unique among them. His sister was officially an “unperson.” Designated that way because her abilities were so rare, it was important to keep her shrouded in obscurity. Saxon wasn’t altogether certain what his own opinion was when it came to operatives with psychic abilities, but his brother believed in them, and there was one solid thing Saxon would bet his life on and that was Vitus Hale’s opinion of someone’s skills. If Vitus thought Greer’s sister was the real deal, Saxon wasn’t going to question it or Greer’s need to keep a security clearance so he could stay in contact with his sibling.
That was a murky place to go though. Greer was a solid agent. A man Saxon was willing to have guarding his back. It didn’t sit too well to know Greer’s sister was serving somewhere in the position of “unperson” without the choice to leave. Or that Greer was driven to extreme service in order to maintain contact with her.
But life wasn’t fair. And the bad guys didn’t apply kindness to their methods. Thais was an example of that.
“The bad guys don’t like the way she distracts them, either,” Vitus said, continuing the conversation. “I think she enjoys knowing they dismiss her as just a toy without two brain cells to rub together.”
“There’s got to be a part of her that resents it, too,” Greer answered. “Don’t be surprised if he doesn’t answer my call.”
Saxon shot Greer a hard look. “He’s more likely to answer a call from you than me. Thais is part of this team. We need to find her first.”
“Personally, I’m not in any hurry to arrest her,” Greer muttered as he started to type.
“We arrest her, we have control of her,” Saxon replied.
“It’s a thin plan,” Vitus added. “But at least it’s a plan.”
Shadow Ops worked on the edge. They took the cases with the greatest odds and the ones that required them to get their hands dirty. World-class criminals didn’t flinch over morality, so they couldn’t, either. Thais knew it, embraced it just as they all did. She was their teammate and Shadow Ops agents always, always had each other’s backs.
No matter what.
* * *
Thais sat up.
Dunn reached over and picked up the Lynx phone. He frowned when he read the number. “Hello, Greer.”
Thais felt a chill touch her nape. She’d known they were hiding from the world. It was going to end; she just hadn’t realized how deeply she would feel the sting when it came.
In some small corner of her mind, she actually enjoyed knowing she felt the jab.
Maybe she wasn’t as jaded as she thought.
Dunn’s face was tight. He sat up, giving her his back as he listened to her fellow agent Greer McRae.
It was the way it had to be …
Thais climbed out of the bed, feeling the chill more than she should on the way to the bathroom.
Get focused …
Sage advice, even if it did little to change the way she wanted to refuse to do anything but stay right there with Dunn.
Are you kidding?
Thais realized she wasn’t. Showering didn’t help much. How many times had she gotten out of a bed and considered the matter finished with a shower? Just let the water wash away the night before. There was a hollow sensation in the pit of her stomach that she’d somehow convinced herself she didn’t miss in the years of making her badge her identity.
Now, she was torn and so damned relieved to realize she could still feel more than sexual tension.
“You don’t have to go anywhere.” Dunn had pulled a pair
of pants on. He filled the doorway of the bedroom as she selected some clothing and tugged it on. “Greer doesn’t know where we are.”
“Hiding out won’t help us corner the hitman who is intent on killing your mother.” Thais pulled a T-shirt on and reached for a sweatshirt.
“I’ll find him.” Dunn came closer as he spoke. “Without you sticking your neck out.”
For a moment, she enjoyed the feeling of … well, of being sheltered. Or at least the offer of it. But she slammed the door shut on those feelings. Letting them loose was out of the question.
“I know you enjoy being a recluse, Dunn, but just what is the plan exactly?” Thais asked softly.
He cocked his head to one side, aiming a hard look toward her that made it clear he liked the idea of a challenge. Thais propped a hand onto her hip.
“Cockiness might get you points in my personal book but the rest of the world is still out there,” she informed him in a tone that was all business. “Personally, I can’t see how you’d appreciate me turning my back on your mother. It’s my duty to safeguard her.”
Dunn moved toward her. “Don’t do that, Thais.” He reached out and smoothed some of her hair away from her face.
A shiver went down her spine. He was big and hard and she was so keenly aware of it. Part of her wanted to just indulge in the sensation and let it carry her away.
But she needed to be practical.
“I can’t be a pet,” she told him. Maybe she should have kept her mouth shut but the words were just spilling over her lips like she didn’t know how important it was to keep her true feelings hidden.
He started to say something but she reached out and pressed a fingertip against his lips.
“Maybe what I should say is, think about whether or not you want something else in your life, Dunn, because I’m not blind to how you’ve arranged your affairs. On your terms. Always. You’re holding back and you like it that way.”
And her voice started to betray her by cracking. She moved past him, using the time to swallow and try to regain her composure.
Dunn hooked her around the waist, turning her and moving so that she was flattened against him.
“Her name was Rhianna,” he offered gruffly. “And I was a target. One she studied down to the last detail.”
He was hard and large, but in his eyes, Thais saw a much younger man. One who had fallen in love, happily being carried away by his heartstrings only to realize he was alone in the emotion.
“My mother was an expert of the art, too,” Thais muttered, unable to resist the urge to offer some compassion to him.
“She trained you,” Dunn said.
Thais flattened her hand on his chest. Savoring the feeling of his heart thumping inside his chest.
But she had to disconnect from him.
From her need for him.
She pushed against his chest. He resisted for a moment before releasing her.
“My husband wasn’t an innocent,” Thais said as she put distance between them.
“No, I’m guessing he enjoyed having you as a pet.”
Thais froze. “Stop doing that.”
Dunn folded his arms over his chest and faced off with her.
“Just … stop,” she insisted. “You’re peeling away my layers.”
“You’ve enjoyed yourself so far,” he answered smugly.
“The sex?” she asked bluntly. “Sure did. You had a smile on your face, too.”
He didn’t miss the topic she left unmentioned. Sex was something they both were comfortable discussing. It was the other element of their relationship that had them standing there, briefly tongue-tied.
“Right now, I need to do my job,” Thais said at last.
Dunn nodded but there was something in his eyes that made her think he didn’t consider the conversation finished.
It had to be.
Still, she admitted that she didn’t like it any more than he did.
Reality sucked. Neither of them was a stranger to that fact.
* * *
Saxon only turned his phone on at certain times of the day. It kept his team off grid. Greer was checking his own phone and shook his head as he caught Saxon looking his way.
“Nothing from Dunn,” Greer confirmed.
“That’s because Thais made direct contact,” Saxon replied. His teammates shifted around him. “She’s coming in.”
“To us?” Vitus asked.
Saxon nodded. “She knows who to trust.”
Saxon didn’t bother to voice his concerns. His teammates knew them anyway. They couldn’t keep Thais. No, Carl Davis would eat that opportunity up in a heartbeat. He’d take the chance to have them all blamed for the hits on Miranda so he could build his case against the Shadow Ops teams.
But he’d take it one step at a time.
And hope he managed to keep at least one pace ahead of Carl Davis.
* * *
The good old USA. Ricky flashed a grin at the customs officer looking over his passport and return ticket. He drew a line across his form and handed it all back to Ricky.
“Have a nice day,” Ricky said as he proceeded through the checkpoint. He enjoyed the chance to stretch his legs after the long flight. Ducking through the doors, he exited into the fresh air.
If you could call the fumes of four lanes of traffic fresh.
Ricky grinned. He enjoyed the bustle because it was easy to go unnoticed. He hopped onto a bus that was heading toward a long-term parking lot. Weary travelers were sitting in the seats, looking grim as they faced the end of their vacations.
He stayed on the bus until it made it to the outer edge of the lot. Climbing down, Ricky walked with purpose past the rows of cars. The front of the place had signs proclaiming it a video-monitored lot. But video wouldn’t be much help once he was long gone. He’d tugged a hat down and continued walking, looking for a car that was clean.
Honestly, parking a newly cleaned car in long-term parking was just telling everyone you wouldn’t notice for at least a week if your car was gone. He eased up beside one and slipped a Slim Jim out of his sleeve and into the side of the door. A quick jerk and pull, and the door popped open. Sitting behind the wheel, he tugged on the wires and started the engine. But he made sure not to crack the plastic of the dashboard too bad. When he drove up to the toll window, he handed the ticket to the bored attendant, who put his cell phone down to take it. A quick moment later, Ricky was driving away from the airport. The gas tank was full, ensuring the owner wouldn’t have to get gas when they returned from their vacation.
He chuckled and drove away from the city. Getting good and lost in the era of the Internet was hard. But he knew how. Ditching the car at a shopping mall before he went out the back of a restaurant and caught a ride in the back of a delivery van. It was all second nature to him, because a hitman who could do his job anonymously was one who could demand the highest price.
He’d enjoyed it before.
But there was something different this time. Ricky realized the buzz was gone. He wasn’t hyped on the idea of screwing over the people around him. In fact, he was noticing just how easy it was to blend in anonymously.
Cat wouldn’t even know his name if he ended up dead in a ditch.
It made him laugh though, because once again, he had the feeling his mother would have given him her approval for getting his thinking straight. When he got back to Ireland, he was going to court Cat. Bend over backward to impress her and her relations. What was it they were always preaching in church? Once you let go of everything you thought you knew about what was important in life, you would amend your ways and be happy to do it.
Well, he was going to give it his best try. Ricky Sullivan, a pillar of the community. He just might invite Kagan to the wedding.
* * *
“Thais Sinclair, you’re under arrest.”
Saxon’s mouth was dry. Thais already had her hands behind her back, but it still took him a damn lot of effort to snap a set of handcuffs on he
r.
The door of the SUV they’d driven to the meeting site in had been opened by Vitus. Saxon helped her up and inside it as he felt sweat sliding down the side of his face.
Fuck.
She didn’t say anything as he closed the door. But Saxon caught sight of Dunn. He was standing across the street. He aimed a hard look toward Saxon before he disappeared.
“I believe that was a warning.” Vitus vocalized what Saxon was thinking.
Saxon pulled his phone out and turned it on. Kagan answered on the second ring.
“We have Thais Sinclair in custody.”
There was a pause from his section leader. “I’ve made arrangements for her to be held at the marine base near you.”
Saxon finally managed a little grin as he put the phone back in his pocket. “Kagan is going to put her on a marine base.”
Vitus nodded. “Good move. Carl will have a hard time calling the marines traitors if Miranda gets shot.”
Saxon slid into the passenger front seat as Greer pulled into traffic. The clock was ticking and they all felt the pressure. There had been times they’d all thrived on it; today, Saxon discovered himself more concerned than normal. But he wouldn’t let it show.
Not that anyone in the vehicle didn’t already know how high the stakes were.
* * *
Ricky picked up his phone when it buzzed.
“I thought you were out of the business,” Pullman said by way of greeting.
Ricky rubbed his eyes because of the time difference, but he’d always been able to wake up fast.
“You heard right,” Ricky answered. “A neat little turn of events landed me a fresh passport. I’m free and clear. Retired.”
Pullman let out a low whistle. “You’ll have to tell me how you did it. I’m getting too old for this shit.”
“Working for that prick Carl Davis won’t do the trick,” Ricky said, playing his hunch.
Pullman was quiet for a long moment. “He’s not a man you tell no to,” he responded.
“I know.” Ricky made sure his voice didn’t give away how fucking amused he was to have gotten Carl Davis’s number on the first guess. Carl was a dumb shit. Using the same hitman was a good way to end up getting caught.
