by Lucy Monroe
“So this thing?“ Kadin prompted. “What is it?”
“Not sure. They’ve mentioned a Tyfer tank,” Cowboy said, his forehead gathered in a frown.
“A tank?” Kadin asked, confused. “Are we talking new technology?”
There were dozens of tanks in warfare today, but antitank missile technology was getting more sophisticated by the month. Some were even positing an end to tank warfare, though Kadin didn’t buy that. Ground combat had been the primary format for war throughout history and still was.
Had Chuma discovered significant improvements someone had made in the armored vehicles that could combat the newest missile technology in a significant way?
“Don’t ask me. When I first heard it, I thought they were talking about a stock tank,” Cowboy said with some humor.
Spazz smacked the table and cursed, grabbing the headset and putting it on, then doing something on the computer.
“What is it, sugar?” Cowboy demanded.
Kadin raised an eyebrow at the endearment, but Cowboy just gave him a deal with it look.
Kadin made a gesture with his hand that the other man would recognize from their days in the Marines that meant, “It’s all good.”
Cowboy smiled, but Spazz was swearing again, this time at himself. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it. Or hear it.”
“What?” Cowboy asked again.
Neil waved him off.
Kadin wasn’t so patient. “See what?” he demanded in his command tone.
Spazz sighed and yanked off the headset. “It wasn’t a Tyfer tank. Chuma was saying Treffert tank.”
Cowboy didn’t look any more enlightened, but Kadin’s gut tightened with the feeling he got just before something went FUBAR for real. “You mean that Treffert guy … the one who’s doing all the research on savant syndrome?”
“What the hell is savant syndrome, and who is this fella Treffert?” Cowboy was sounding more than a little impatient now.
“You’ve heard of an autistic savant?”
“I’ve heard of an idiot savant, but my mama would’a washed my mouth out with lye soap if I ever used that term.”
“Your mama …” Neil’s expression saddened as he looked at Cowboy, but then he shook it off. “Dr. Treffert argues pretty convincingly that neither term is fully correct. Not all savants are retarded mentally or autistic, though statistics would suggest that one in ten autistic people is a savant of some kind.”
Still not sure where Spazz was going with this, Kadin added for Cowboy’s benefit, “Which is why they used the term autistic savant for so long.”
“What? You reading medical journals now, Trigger?” Cowboy asked with a smirk.
“My sister makes sure I keep up with the news on this particular topic, since my oldest nephew is autistic, but it’s not exactly a state secret.”
Spazz typed something into his computer. “No, but it’s also a very specialized area of study and not common knowledge.”
Kadin shrugged. Considering the number of autistic people in the United States, he thought maybe it should be.
“What does savant syndrome have to do with Abasi Chuma?” he asked Spazz. “Chuma sure as hell isn’t one.”
“No. The man has a smart criminal mind, but he is not a savant. Not by any stretch,” Spazz said with disdain.
Kadin would find the technology geek’s attitude amusing under other circumstances. “No arguments here.”
“Right. So, Dr. Treffert is the acknowledged expert on savant syndrome, and he estimates that there are only about fifty true savants alive today.” Spazz’s tone and attitude seemed to imply that what he’d just said was significant.
“So?”
“What if he’s wrong?” Spazz asked.
“And the other savants are part of some kind of think tank,” Cowboy said, proving he, at least, was catching up fast.
Kadin hadn’t made that leap yet, though the lag might have more to do with the fact that thoughts of Rachel were interfering with his concentration on this conversation.
Kadin forced himself to focus on the topic at hand. “You think Treffert has something to do with it?”
“Doubtful.” Spazz was still concentrating on his computer screen. “The man’s too public. My guess is, someone lacking imagination borrowed his name as a moniker for the think tank, believing they were cleverly hiding what it really is.”
Cowboy wasn’t looking too happy. “And Chuma got an in to it.”
“Or just some breakthrough the think tank has made,” Kadin suggested, finally back in the game mentally.
Spazz nodded without looking up. “It’s his business to acquire and sell information and technology that could be very dangerous in the wrong hands.”
“Acquire … How has he acquired this information?” Kadin didn’t like any of the scenarios his mind came up with.
“I don’t know, but I have some ideas.” Spazz looked up then, his blue eyes narrowed in a way that said he wasn’t too pleased by his own thoughts on the matter. “Now that we know what we’re looking for, I can do some digging, though.”
“And what are we looking for?”
“Information on a Treffert tank, for one,” Cowboy answered for the other man.
“And any link Chuma might have to its output or someone involved with it.”
Kadin didn’t like it. This wasn’t their normal type of assignment and required specialization outside his expertise and control. “That’s a big order.”
“For someone else, maybe,” Spazz said with well-earned arrogance.
“That’s my man,” Cowboy said with pride in his Texas twang.
Spazz jolted as if he’d been shot with a Taser and glared at Cowboy. “I’m not your anything, and you’re not out.”
“I am to Trig, and you keep telling yourself that, sugar, but we both know the truth, and sometime soon here, you’re gonna admit it, too.”
Spazz looked at Kadin. “You know?”
That Cowboy was gay?
“Sure.” Kadin shrugged. Like it mattered.
“And you don’t care?”
“Should I?” Though if Cowboy and Spazz were planning to cohabitate, that information was something a team leader needed to know.
Roman would want to know, too. There were no rules about Atrati agents not being in relationships, but the truth was, most field team members were single. It was just the way it worked.
Spazz shook his head. “I’ve got work to do here.”
In other words, get out of the technology geek’s hair. “You’ve got less than twenty-four hours.”
“I read you loud and clear, Trigger,” Spazz said as he turned his attention fully to the computer.
“You think TGP will change their directive for their agent if we can prove there’s a current case to work beyond her identifying Chuma and his cohorts?” Cowboy asked.
“Maybe. We can hope.”
“You don’t sound confident.”
“That shit going down in Washington could tie Whit’s hands.”
“There’s always shit going down in Washington,” Cowboy said with a snort. “But TGP slides under the radar.”
“Not this time.”
Spazz nodded, proving he’d been listening though he’d already started doing whatever it was that led to the amazing results he always got. He probably knew more than Roman or Whit about what was going on in Washington right now.
The man was more than a little smart, and he kept his ear to the ground in a way that was damn scary sometimes.
“What do you want me to do while Neil is researching this think tank angle?” Cowboy asked.
“You’re with me on Jamila detail.”
“What about our listening devices? Daredevil here bugged one of the satphones. If they take it with them when they leave the mountain, we’ll still have ears on them.”
Kadin was glad his men were all the type to take the extra initiative. Not so popular in the military, that attitude went a long way in the At
rati.
Though Cowboy didn’t sound too happy with Spazz’s having taken the extra risk. “Peace, Rachel, and Eva can work out a schedule to monitor whatever we get.”
“You think that’s a good idea, Trigger?” Spazz asked, proving the man was still listening despite his swiftly typing fingers.
“If we don’t give her something to do, she’s going to sneak out to watch Jamila Massri herself.”
Cowboy whistled low. “Your little filly is damn stubborn.”
“She’s not mine.” Why the hell didn’t saying that hurt less today than it had ten years ago?
Whoever had been stupid enough to claim that time healed all wounds had never had a Rachel Gannon in their life … and lost her.
“Whatever you say, boss.”
“Spazz, you got any more of those listening gizmos?” Kadin forbore continuing the argument.
And if that argument was about something more than the simple fact that Cowboy could be a stubborn sonofabitch, well … that was Kadin’s own damn business.
“Sure.” Spazz looked up, giving Kadin his full attention. “What are you thinking?”
“Bugging their hotel.”
“You might have to use local talent for that one. I don’t see you passing as a chambermaid.”
Kadin rolled his eyes. “I’ve got it covered.”
He’d already spoken to the operative who ran the safe house.
Spazz went to get the bugs.
Kadin found Rachel alone, eating from a plate of fruit in the kitchen.
“How are you feeling?” he asked her.
She popped a piece of papaya into her mouth, chewed, and swallowed before answering. “I’d feel more like a human if I had something to wear besides scrubs.”
The tan pants and top had no style and didn’t show off her feminine curves at all, but she still looked cute in them. He didn’t think she’d appreciate his saying so, however.
“You think you can restrain yourself from leaving the house if I get you real clothes?” he asked, only half kidding.
“You think my attire is what’s holding me back right now?”
“Point taken.”
She took another bite of fruit, pineapple this time, and the juice dribbled from the corner of her mouth. The dark pink tip of her tongue came out to lick it away.
And just like that, Kadin’s dick was hard and aching.
Rachel’s pale blue eyes narrowed as if she knew exactly what was happening to him and wasn’t particularly happy about it. “Tell me.”
He was so damned rattled by her that he nearly admitted his desire before his brain clicked in and he realized she was asking about his discussion with his men.
“Tell you what?” he taunted anyway.
Pushing Rachel’s buttons to make that certain spark ignite in her eyes used to be one of his favorite things to do. Apparently old habits were harder to break than relationships.
Sure enough, annoyance made her nostrils flare and her too-kissable lips tighten. “You didn’t hang back with your boys just to shoot the breeze. What’s your plan?”
“Do you have one?” he asked with genuine curiosity, wondering how much of her insistence on staying was being driven by her emotion and how much was based on an idea she had for the outcome.
“Not one that isn’t going to tank my career,” Rachel admitted in a tone of frustration.
Which said two things. One: she did have a plan. And two: Rachel Gannon considered the Egyptian woman, Jamila Massri, more important than her own career.
“But you’re going to do it anyway.”
“I don’t have a choice. I let Linny down; I won’t be responsible for the same thing happening to Jamila.”
“Linny was an adult.”
“Barely.” There was a wealth of pain in Rachel’s voice. “She was just a kid, and I left her to fend for herself.”
“She was in college.”
“She’d dropped out, and I didn’t even know it.”
“That’s not your fault.”
“Isn’t it? If I’d been a better sister, I would have known about something like that.”
“Why didn’t your grandmother tell you?”
Rachel laughed, the sound nothing like amused. “She didn’t want responsibility for us after Mom and Dad died, but she gave us a home and kept us together anyway. She took a very hands-off approach after Linny turned eighteen, and I knew that. Linny acted like Grandmother’s attitude didn’t faze her, but she had to have felt abandoned by us both. I should have looked closer, paid better attention.”
The pain hiding behind Rachel’s tough-secret-agent exterior pricked at the heart Kadin had done his best to brick away for the past ten years.
“You were hurting, too.” Rachel had been abandoned, first by her parents in death, then by Kadin, and then emotionally by her grandmother.
“No. Grandmother and I hadn’t been close since Mom and Dad died. Her frequent trips and cruises didn’t bother me.”
“She and Linny were all you had left of your family. Her decision to leave you and your sister completely to your own lives had to have hurt.”
“Maybe it would have hurt the girl you remember. I’m not her anymore.” Rachel shrugged. “Besides, Grandmother had her own demons to deal with. Losing her child must have devastated her. She pushed me and Linny away to spare herself the pain of losing us, too.”
It amazed him that Rachel could understand her grandmother’s pain so well even while denying her own. “You were still that girl back then. You’d only been working for the DEA a couple of years when Linny killed herself.”
Saying the words hurt him. How much more painful must they be to the sister who had loved Linny so deeply? Even after all this time?
“Twenty months. Since the month after Linny went off to college.” Naked pain flashed briefly over Rachel’s once-expressive features. “I tried to keep in touch as much as possible, but they sent me undercover within the first year. I showed aptitude.”
Undercover for the DEA? Shit. “What was the case?”
She named a bust that had involved a drug ring and underage prostitution and had stretched across six states. The ring had been ripped apart at the seams by an impressive investigation that had included a series of undercover operatives a few years back.
He swore.
She shrugged. “I’m good at what I do.”
“At what cost?” And he didn’t mean Linny.
“Does it matter?” she asked, proving she wasn’t talking about Linny, either.
Rachel was talking about herself as if she didn’t count, and Kadin hated it. “It does to me.”
“Don’t. Don’t lie to me. I’m an expert at reading people now, Kadin.” She shook her head, her eyes narrow with disbelief and a tinge of anger.
“Then you know I’m telling the truth.”
Pure fury twisted her beautiful face before the rage disappeared and nothing was left but her blank regard. “I don’t know how you ended up being the one to extract me. I don’t know why you’re helping me with Jamila. And honestly? It just doesn’t matter. The important thing, the only thing I care about right now, is that you are.”
She took a deep breath and pushed the bowl of fruit away from her before standing up from the table. “But don’t make the mistake of thinking I believe for one single, solitary second that it’s because I matter to you. I never did. It just took me some time to figure that out.”
“You mattered too much. That’s why I left.”
Chapter Ten
“Drop it.” Rachel’s tone was flat, no give in it.
He sighed, pushing the fruit back to her spot at the table and indicating with a nod that she should sit down again. “Spazz thinks there may be grounds for expanding the orders on your case.”
“What are they?”
“He’s not sure, but he’s digging.”
Rachel returned to her seat, and Kadin told her about Chuma’s tension and the mention of the Treffert tank.
/> “TGP has eyes on the think tank and its output. I might be able to access our files on them if Spazz can get me a secure connection.” She was eating the fruit by rote, as if she understood she needed nutrients to get back to full strength but had no other reason to eat it.
When he’d walked into the kitchen, she’d clearly been enjoying her snack, and it bothered him that the emotionless stranger had returned to inhabit Rachel’s body.
“And in the meantime?”
“We’re bugging the hotel here in Marrakech.”
“And Jamila?”
“Cowboy and I will be running sit-rep surveillance on her.”
“Thank you.”
Kadin sighed. “No thanks needed. I let Linny down, too.”
He wasn’t even surprised when Rachel gave a short, affirmative jerk of her head. “Yes, you did. You abandoned us both. I may forgive you someday for breaking your promises to me, but I’ll never forgive you for dumping her out of your life, too. She needed you, and you weren’t there.”
Rachel looked away, as if she could see something besides the stucco walls of the Moroccan safe house. “She lost too much, too many people, and I let that happen. Trying to get back my own happiness, I cost Linny hers. I’ll never forgive myself, either.”
“Rachel, she was going to college. The campus of her choice. What were you supposed to do, give up your job? Move to Oregon with her?”
Rachel surged to her feet again, spinning away from him and then back, her face reflecting long-held pain, the emotionless mask shattered to reveal the real woman. “If it could have saved her life, that’s exactly what I should have done.”
“She wouldn’t have let you, Rach. Linny wasn’t going to live with her big sister while she was going to college.”
“Why not? I lived with her and Grandmother while I was at university.”
“By your choice, right?”
“Yes. I’m not saying Grandmother would have been happy if I’d moved out and left her with a teenager to deal with on her own, but I wasn’t going to leave Linny until I thought she was ready.” Something in her tone said that had been a tough call to make for Rachel.
That surprised him, but he didn’t have the luxury of dwelling on it now. He needed to open Rachel’s mind to the idea that Linny’s death was not her fault. Even if she didn’t believe it immediately, there needed to be a spike set firmly into that train of thought.
