“I still like our first option the best,” Trigg says, leaning his arms on the conference table. “I can stay with Emma while she meets with BHC at some other location while you guys work with Jax to infiltrate their headquarters.”
“Nope. I already tossed that idea out at our last meeting,” Emma says firmly, shaking her head. “I’m not letting you guys take all the risk. Forget it.”
“Right, we know that’s how you feel. And we’re all trying our damnedest to come up with an alternative.” I close my eyes and pinch my nose, thinking about how to word this. “But if we can’t figure out how to get them to grant you access to their file Vault, then our original plan might be the only feasible option.”
“I get it,” Emma says good-naturally. “And, look — I’m okay with having that be our backup plan, if it has to be. But I think we can come up with a plan all of us feel comfortable with. So, let’s keep brainstorming, agreed?”
There are nods all around as silence descends again, each of us turning over rudimentary beginnings of strategy. This is why the military works so well. On a mission of importance, a good officer speaks with his subordinates and superiors alike, gathering all the information he — or she — can before deciding on a course of action. It’s a group effort in that respect, but in the end, when it comes to deciding a strategy, this is where I would lay down the law. Give the command. And good soldiers like Gunner and Trigg would know that I’ve labored over the decision, and it’s the best strategy we have.
It isn’t just the military — the best run police departments, fire and rescue units — they understand it as well. I bet even the FBI runs that way — no doubt it’s part of what my friend Sargent Roth appreciates about working there. He was spec ops. He planned his own missions when he was in the service. Probably still does now that he’s in the FBI.
My brother is talking to Daniel about something, but I haven’t been paying attention. Because an idea just occurred to me.
Pieces of the puzzle are flying together at light speed in my mind as I interrupt the conversation. “Trigg — tell me again about the SUV you saw following Jeremy’s car the day you and Jax were chasing him.”
“That was us, yes.” Agent Roth admits.
From the description of the vehicle, and after talking with Trigg about the way it was tailing Jeremy’s car, I’d expected as much. I pace my office, having left the conference room for a quieter environment to have a phone call with an old friend. “And your suspicions about BHC?”
“They’re more than just suspicions,” Agent Roth says cautiously. He’s hesitant to say more. I know the feeling.
“Well, we have some of our own that also aren’t just suspicions,” I offer, trying to find a way to get him talking.
“I figured you might. My guys noticed Trigg chasing the car — he was hard to miss, dodging traffic and jumping across hoods. I recognized him from the photos they got.”
“To be honest, I thought we’d be getting a visit from you, or someone after that. Trigg told us your SUV rolled up on the scene while he had Jeremy down on the ground.”
“Yeah. But Trigg took off, and my guys opted not to give chase, because it would have blown their covers. I don’t think Mr. Brandt realizes he has a tail, even though my team practically drove that SUV right up his asshole that day, trying to see what was happening.”
I snort. “I wish they had. Personally, I’d like to drive a tank up his ass. But I’ve got a question for you — why didn’t you come talk to me once you recognized Trigg? Surely, you must have wondered what the hell that was about?”
“Well, I am curious, yes. I know you guys are involved with that Collins lady. From what our informant tells us, BHC is pursuing her pretty hard. And Pentabyte is their competition. Plus, we know she used to date Brandt. So, I figured there’s some professional, or maybe even personal, rivalry going on. So, yeah, I’m curious, but it didn’t concern me too much. You’re obviously tangled up in this mess, but I know from our time serving together that you’re good men.”
“Feeling’s mutual,” I say. “I guess not all of you government suits are rotten to the core.”
Agent Roth laughs. We’re both used to the ribbing between people working in different government branches. “I’m glad you called, it’s been good to hear from you. I almost asked you about Brandt the other day when I saw you in the bar, but it looked like you all were waiting for someone, and then my lady arrived, and well, that was the end of my thoughts about work.”
It’s my turn to laugh. “I hear that.” Emma tends to have that effect on me, too. I decide to press on while I have him in a good mood. “You know, I’m not sure where you guys are with your investigation, but we have some information about BHC you might be interested in.”
“Well, let’s just say I’ve gone through quite a few cases since I’ve joined the Agency, Jude, but BHC is the one we haven’t been able to close yet. They’ve been evasive as fuck. So, if that gives you any indication of where we’re at…”
“Yes. That’s the problem we’re running up against as well.”
“Don’t get me wrong,” Roth says, “we have material to put a few individuals away for a couple years, more if we get the IRS involved, but it’s just petty charges compared to what we believe they’re into. We don’t have anything to hit the actual company with, so taking down a few board members, it’s not going to change much.”
I nod, having heard this countless times in my military days. “Take down a local paramilitary general, and a new one rises.”
“Exactly. What we need to do — what we’re looking to do with this investigation is find a way to cut the head off the snake.”
“How long have you been working on this?” I ask, taking a bit of a stab in the dark, but it’s an educated guess.
Agent Roth sighs and grows quiet for a minute. I know he’s weighing how much to tell me. Finally, he clears his throat and speaks. “Long enough that we have a plant,” he confesses.
Whoa. I wasn’t expecting him to lay out something that confidential. The admission is surprising, and I recognize it for what it is. An olive branch. A gesture of trust. It’s the kind of thing an Army man like himself would do for a Marine officer like me — to show me that even though we don’t work within the same branch of the military — branches be damned, we have a task to complete, and if that means teaming up, so be it. But just how much is he willing to share? “A plant inside BHC? An agent?”
“Yes,” Roth says. “And he’s solid.”
“How solid?” I ask.
“Well, you’d recognize him.”
Motherfucker, another shocker. So, it’s probably someone we served with. Whoever it is, Roth is volunteering the kind of information that would get him in trouble with his superiors. He wants BHC bad enough to show me his hand first so I feel fully comfortable sharing what I know. He’s trying to bring me on board, and it might be the break we’ve been looking for.
I quickly fill him in on everything we know — from Emma’s bank account being hacked back when she first started accepting offers for her software all the way through to her meeting with BHC in the park.
He interrupts a few times to ask questions and add some details of his own here and there. When I’m finished, he lets out a low whistle. “Well, hell, Jude. Now I wish I’d called you up sooner. That’s some serious shit, but I can’t say it surprises me, given the rap sheet we’ve been compiling on these fuckers.”
“That’s not all,” I say. Then I tell him about the files we think they have, and where they keep them.
“We’ve suspected the same,” he confirms. “But our issue is, we don’t have enough to secure warrants without the files — and even if we did, my tech guy swears they’ll nuke the files before we even get two feet inside the door.”
I’m shaking my head, even though he can’t see me through the phone. “That’s what Daniel and Jax tell me, too — that if BHC has a clue what they’re doing, and I think we can safely assume they do, then they will
have some sort of burn code to just wipe everything the second they think they’re compromised.”
Roth sighs. “That’s why we’re still standing around with our thumbs up our asses, stuck just tailing these guys and hoping they fuck up somehow.”
Staring out the window of my office, I let out a breath of frustration. “Believe me, I know how that feels.”
“We’ve been cleared on running a sting operation, if that’s what it takes to get those files, but we’re still missing a key ingredient — how to get to the damn server without raising suspicion. Not even our inside man has been able to get near it.”
I take a deep breath as I pace, circling my desk. I’m tempted to just keep my damn mouth shut, because I don’t like what I’m about to say. But this is an opportunity I can’t ignore — and one that I know Emma would kick my ass for passing up. No matter what my personal feelings are about her being involved with this plan, we’ve reached the point of no return. Whether we join forces with the FBI or not all depends on how they want to handle this and if it jives with protecting our girl. But the only way to find out is to make the offer.
“I might know of a way in,” I tell Roth. “We need to meet. All of us.”
24
Emma
I find a spot on the floor, because how could I not?
Mabel is the most adorable thing on four legs. There’s a scar around the pit bull’s neck where the chain dug into her, but otherwise, she’s looking healthy these days. And she’s been a puddle of cuddly gratitude to anyone who spares a moment of attention.
I lean against the mountain of pillows Jax has accumulated for me, lounging in front of Daniel’s fireplace. The moment I sat, Mabel made a beeline for me, inching closer and closer until she snuggled up against me, her eyes closed. I pet with a light touch from her head down her back.
Zoey’s sitting beside me, but I’m pretty sure it’s just because of Mabel. I’m old news — she has a new best friend. “She’s the sweetest thing ever. I can’t believe anyone would hurt her. Look at that face,” Zoey coos. She takes Mabel’s jowls between her palms and rubs, making a kissy face.
“Some people. I don’t get it,” Jude says.
It’s been a good day.
Yesterday was our big pow-wow at Pentabyte, all of us sitting around the conference table, hashing out ideas. It helped reaffirm my status with the guys — professionally, at least. But today has been about the flip-side of the coin. The other things that matter, that no business contract or negotiations in a conference room could address.
Us, coming back together as a solid six.
We’ve spent the day together, cooking a feast for both lunch and dinner, talking and laughing. There have been some somber moments, too, as each of us shared, in our own way, what we went through when we were apart. I know now that it wasn’t just me who felt broken and lost — the pain of being separated was almost unbearable for every one of us.
But today has been cathartic. It’s exactly what we’ve needed. No business, no talk about BHC. Just all of us being together in the same space, as it should be. And Zoey was able to join us for dinner after her shift, which I’m so glad for, because she is my family, too. Sitting down to share a meal with my favorite people made my heart sing, and the warm fuzzies of it stuck with me all evening as we moved into the great room for after-dinner drinks as Zoey shared stories of her visit back to her hometown.
Jude’s even let himself relax a bit. He approaches with a wine bottle in hand, a Pinot that Daniel selected from his special collection. “That dog has a thing for you,” Jude says, tipping his head at his rescue.
“Maybe she remembers I was there with you that day,” I suggest. “Recognizes my voice or something, from when I was talking to you outside the fence.” I hold out my wine glass, and he fills it nearly to the brim with the rich, red wine.
“Could be,” he says with a nod. There’s a warm smile on his lips that has my chest aching for him to draw nearer. “But, she’s also got great instincts, that one.”
“Is she a slipper chewer?” Daniel asks.
“Haven’t tested the theory yet,” Jude says.
“Emma,” Daniel says, his eyes darting to my feet, “are those toes of yours a bit chilly this evening?”
I wiggle my bare toes, which are pointed at his massive, gas lit fireplace. “Yeah, they were, but they’re getting warmed up now.”
“I rarely see you wear socks,” Daniel comments observantly.
“That’s true,” I agree. But he has my attention now, and I narrow my eyes at him suspiciously, wondering what his sudden fascination with my feet is about. I lean to the side, trying to see what he’s hiding behind his back, “What do you have there?”
The box is too big to conceal, and he gives up, pulling it from behind his back with a grin. “I saw these, and I thought of you.” Daniel extends a rather large gift-wrapped package, complete with ribbon and bow, but Gunner seizes it before I can reach out my hand.
“Can’t you see the lady has her hands full?” Gunner sits down on the other side of me and pets Mabel, who seems to be soaking up every bit of attention she can get. “Want me to unwrap it for you?” he asks. “I wouldn’t want you to have to put the wine down.”
I wave at the box. “Please, be my guest,” I say before taking a sip of the delicious Pinot Daniel picked out for us.
For some reason, I was expecting some sort of slow tease — the wrapping pulled back from one corner then peeled inch my inch, revealing the name of one of Daniel’s favorite stores. But who am I kidding? Gunner is in charge of the unwrapping, so the paper is torn to shreds in a split second and the box opened a heartbeat later. He squints into it. “Another box?”
“The first one was the shipping box,” Daniel says. “Open the second one.”
Gunner obeys, retrieving a pocket knife from nowhere and splitting the tape carefully. “Oh, sweet!” He pulls out a pair of fur-lined moccasins in one hand and a plush pair of dog-faced slippers complete with floppy ears in the other.
“Everyone likes slippers, right?” Daniel says, smiling at me hopefully. “I wasn’t sure which kinds you like, though, so I might have selected a few.”
“A few? There’s, like, half a dozen in here!” Gunner exclaims, rummaging through the box. “Oh, nice!” Gunner pulls out a pair with a fuzzy bumblebee design and then a pair made to look like ankle high boots, but with fluffy lining and soft fabric soles.
“I like all of them,” I tell him, admiring each pair as Gunner hands them to me.
“There’s a pair for each of our penthouses. So your feet will always be warm and toasty, no matter where you visit. You know, for dinner or whatever,” he adds quickly. “I wasn’t trying to be presumptuous.”
“No, they’re perfect — thank you! It’s a very sweet idea,” I assure Daniel as I slip my hands inside one of the faux boot slippers. “Wow, so soft, like chinchilla fur! Here, feel this, Zoey,” I say, passing her the slippers.
As I show Zoey the assortment of slippers Gunner has piled in my arms, my eyes keep moving back to Daniel. He looks visibly relieved to not have assumed wrongly. Gunner’s been flirting with me, back to his usual self, ever since the second meeting at the bar when I accepted their offer. And I certainly haven’t been discouraging him. Not in the least. But the other guys have been holding back, playing it safe.
“Hell, yes!” Gunner pulls a camouflage pair with fleece lining from the box and looks from me to Trigg. “How about these for our penthouse? We can put them right outside the elevator.”
“Do you like the camouflage?” I ask Trigg.
“Yeah,” he nods. “Seems fitting — camouflage saved our ass more than once, right Gunner?”
“Ooh yeah, camouflage slippers for when the Foxy Lady comes to visit — done.” Gunner doesn’t even hand me the slippers — he sets them on the side table, decision made.
“I can try them out really soon, if you’d like,” I suggest. “I was thinking dinner at your place tomorr
ow night sounds nice.”
Gunner gives me a cocky grin. “Is dinner a code word for something else?”
Beside me, Zoey erupts into laughter, and she covers her face with one of the bumblebee slippers.
“Uh, no, I actually meant dinner,” I tell Gunner. “I came up with a twist on a family lasagna recipe that I think you’d like.”
He raises both eyebrows in excitement. “I fucking adore lasagna.”
“This one will be a slightly spicy version, extra meaty. And I’m going to put pepperoncini’s in it, too, because I know how much you like them.”
“Oh my God, I’m getting hard just thinking about.”
“Gunner!” Daniel chastises.
“I know he’s kidding,” I tell Daniel before looking back at Gunner. “You meant hungry, right?”
“Nope, and I’m totally not kidding,” Gunner says, quickly making an adjustment at the front of his pants before leaning forward to conceal his lap from curious eyes.
Zoey can’t stop giggling, and I’m laughing now, too.
Trigg lowers his voice to a whisper. “Just don’t mention cannoli’s or tiramisu,” he pleads, “or we’ll really have a scene.”
It’s Jax who finally brings us back around to the topic at hand, barely veiled worry in his expression. “Slippers and lasagna and all are great, but… we’ve been evading the problem, here.” He shoots Gunner and Daniel a look. “And you two aren’t helping.”
My leg is going numb from the weight of Mabel’s head on my thigh, so I shift her gently then turn to Jax. “What’s the problem? I trust Jude, Trigg, and Gunner, and they trust this contact of theirs in the FBI.”
“Of course,” Jax says. “But we’re talking about turning over this operation to someone else — putting your safety in their hands.”
“Right, I get that. I know it makes you all nervous. But this is the most foolproof way of doing it. If we go it alone, without them — what I’ve been thinking of as our Maverick Plan, then we’re still facing an uphill battle, even if we do manage to grab the files. I mean, we’ll have the files, but it’ll just be stolen property. What are we supposed to do with it at that point?”
Risky Business_A Reverse Harem Romance Page 17
