Alpha Bravo SEAL

by Carol Ericson

  Chapter Eleven

  Slade’s heart beat double time as he and Nicole returned to the lab. Agent Mills met them at the door and let them inside without a word.

  Staring at the back of Mills’s shiny, shaved head as he followed him into the lab, Slade asked, “So, he’s domestic?”

  “Sort of.” He ushered them into the room where he’d lifted the prints and snapped the door behind them. He tapped a manila folder on the table. “It’s all in there.”

  Slade flipped open the folder and looked into the eyes of the man he’d kicked in the gut last night. “Yep, this is the guy.”

  “Who is he?” Nicole sidled next to him, pressing her shoulder against his, her breath coming in short spurts.

  “Marcus Friedrich. He’s German, or at least he was before he became a US citizen as a teenager.” Slade ran his finger along the sheet of paper, skimming through Friedrich’s life.

  “German, just like Conrad, even though that’s probably not Conrad’s real name. What is this, a German terrorist cell?”

  “Technically, Marcus is American. He moved here with his parents when he was six years old and got citizenship ten years later.”

  Mills cleared his throat. “Friedrich has a record—nothing big, but the fact that he was a weapons specialist in the US Army complicates things.”

  A white-hot flash of anger zapped Slade’s body. “Someone who served in the armed forces is involved in terrorist activity? That’s always the worst.”

  “He was dishonorably discharged, if that makes a difference.” Mills cleared his throat. “Terrorist activity?”

  Slade scratched his head. If Mills hadn’t figured that out by now, he probably shouldn’t be a special agent for the FBI. He was most likely fishing for more intel. “We don’t know at this point, Mills. I’m just guessing.”

  “Are you supposed to go after this guy now? Call the NYPD? Call us?” Mills flicked the edge of the folder with his blunt fingers. “He has an address in New York, out in Queens.”

  “I’m sure I’ll have my orders once I report this.” Slade thrust out a hand. “Thanks, Mills. I’ll take it from here.”

  “And I’ll report back to my superior just to close the loop. Glad to help out the...US Navy.”

  They turned in their badges when they checked out of the building, and Slade took a deep breath when they hit the sidewalk. “We now have one name in this network. That’s gotta help.”

  “Agent Mills seems to think Marcus is just a petty criminal.”

  “A petty criminal who’s a weapons specialist and who chased us through a train to stop us from finding Lars’s footage. He’s more than a petty criminal.”

  “Wouldn’t the FBI know that?”

  “The FBI was charged with running those prints, nothing more. The agency isn’t going to be looking for the same connections as the covert ops group running this show.”

  “So, the brain behind your assignment isn’t just the CIA.” Nicole waved at a taxi barreling down the street.

  “Nope, but I’m not in the loop. I was sent here to protect you and gather some info.”

  “I’d say you’re doing a lot more than gathering some info. I think once I meet Dahir tonight, we’re going to blow this wide-open for this covert ops group—and they don’t even have to get their hands dirty.”

  They stopped talking when they slid into the backseat of the cab on the way to Nicole’s place.

  Slade dropped Friedrich’s folder in his lap. “Are you going to get your NYU sweatshirt back from Livvy?”

  “I think it’s a goner.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “Why, are you trying to find an excuse to visit Chanel?”

  “Well, there’s that, but I wouldn’t mind asking Livvy a few questions.” He pressed a palm against the folder. “We have a picture to show her. I’m just wondering how many guys we have out here working on this.”

  “I’m wondering the same thing, and they must’ve been set up for a while here if Trudy started dating one of them.”

  “Friedrich even has a place here.”

  “Are you going to track him down?”

  “If that’s what the folks upstairs want me to do. I’m going to file a report and touch base when I get back to your place, but I need to pick up my laptop first.” He leaned forward, tapping on the Plexiglas separating the front seat from the back and gave the driver the new directions to Times Square.

  “Laptop, shirts, toothbrush.” She drummed her fingers on his thigh. “You need to pack a bag with some essentials and bring it to my mom’s. Why fight it?”

  He shrugged at her light tone, but she was the one fighting it—this attraction between them. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to bed the woman you were trying to protect, but he didn’t want to miss his chance with her. If they didn’t take this...connection between them to the next level, she might be gone from his life for good once he finished this crazy assignment.

  He left Nicole waiting in the taxi while he ran up to his hotel room to grab his laptop. He shoved a few things in a small bag while he was at it. Might as well take Nicole up on her offer.

  He tossed the bag on the seat between them. “Toothbrush.”

  By the time they got back to her mother’s place, Nicole had called to check on Livvy and casually mentioned they might drop by to visit her and bring more of Chanel’s toys.

  Slade held the door open for Nicole as she finished the call. “She’s okay with it?”

  “Of course, and you can ask Livvy anything. She might think it’s strange if you’re questioning her about a picture, but I’m sure you can think of something.”

  “I don’t want to impersonate a police officer, but I’ll figure out something.” He punched the elevator button, and when the doors opened on the floor, Slade’s five senses went into overdrive.

  The building seemed secure enough, but these guys were pros and there was a team of them operating to bring down Nicole. His blood pumped hot through his veins whenever he thought about the danger to Nicole’s life. Maybe this high-level team of spooks should just get her out of the city and to some super-secure location, but he had a sickening suspicion that they wanted her right here to draw out this particular terror cell.

  She shoved open the front door. “Do you want to check under the beds?”

  “It’s that obvious, huh?”

  “Your face gets—” she stroked her chin “—sharp and your eyes narrow like a cat’s. Your nostrils flare.”

  “Wow. Who knew?” He gave the downstairs a once-over anyway before setting up his laptop in the living room. “I’m going to write up some notes and send them off. Then we’ll find Friedrich’s address and if we’re really lucky, we’ll find Friedrich.”

  “You’re not going to wait for orders to track him down?”

  He shrugged. “They put me on this assignment, so I’m going to make the call.”

  “What’ll you do with Friedrich if you find him?”

  “What I couldn’t do on that train—question him, and then send him somewhere else where the interrogation methods aren’t quite so friendly.”

  “While you’re doing your notes, I’m going to catch up on some emails and a little of Mom’s business. You’d be surprised how much work it is to be a society doyenne—or maybe you wouldn’t.”

  “I don’t know. The way you talk about your mom makes it sound so much more interesting than what my mom does.” He patted his computer. “Don’t you use a laptop?”

  “Just for my work when I’m in the field. I prefer the desktop in the office for the mundane tasks.”

  She brought him a glass of water and carried her own toward the office. Before she disappeared through the door, she called over her shoulder, “Have fun.”

  Slade sent the findings on Marcus Friedrich to his contact em
ail for Ariel and received a simple acknowledgment. He knew the covert ops agency on the other end of that email address would be turning Friedrich’s life and especially his contacts upside down, but he’d have to take the initiative on this end to locate the man. He was supposed to be the muscle in this operation—the hit man, if necessary.

  And if that was necessary to protect Nicole, he was all in.

  When he clicked Send on the last email of the day, he stretched and downed the rest of his water. He hadn’t heard one squeak out of Nicole from the office, so he put his laptop aside and strode to the office door.

  She’d abandoned the desk and chair for the sofa in the corner, where she lay curled up, one arm hanging off the edge.

  He crept up to the sofa and crouched next to it, studying Nicole’s beautiful face, her long lashes curved on her cheek. With the lively animation smoothed out from her face, she almost looked like a different woman, someone he didn’t know.

  Nicole’s vitality would always be a part of her appearance, the way her green eyes lit up with curiosity, the laugh lines that crinkled at the corners of her eyes, the expressive mouth that could quirk into a smile as easily as it could purse with annoyance.

  Something new had crept into her face, as well—dark shadows beneath her eyes. Fatigue, worry, fear had all left their mark. He should just tuck her in right now and investigate Friedrich’s home in Queens by himself. She’d be out late meeting with Dahir tonight, and she needed the sleep.

  If only he could clone himself and leave his duplicate here with her, armed and ready to protect her. He could call on Leo downstairs to keep an eye on her.

  He tugged on the throw blanket hanging across the back of the sofa and shook it out. As he placed it over her legs, she stirred, tucking one hand beneath her cheek.

  Unfolding the blanket, he pulled it up to her chin and then stopped when he became aware of a pair of green eyes watching him. “Did I wake you?”

  “Don’t worry. It wasn’t a deep sleep. I think the events of last night—and the night before, and was there a night before that?—finally caught up with me and hit me over the head like a somnolent sledgehammer, if you can imagine that.”

  “Mmm, not quite.”

  She squirmed up to a sitting position. “Were you going to sneak out on me?”

  “I hadn’t decided yet. It might be dangerous showing up at Friedrich’s house.”

  “If he really lives there.” She kicked off the blanket. “It also might be dangerous right here.”

  “I know. That’s why I asked about a safe house for you in the report I just wrote.”

  “What?” She bolted upright, her eyes fully open. “A safe house? Is that like witness protection or something? I can’t leave here. I’m supposed to be looking after my mother’s place.”

  “Really? Your mom can’t pay someone to do what you’re doing? You’re not even taking care of Chanel anymore.”

  “I have stuff to do, a life. My editor is working on my most recent film, and I have to be available for questions, decisions.”

  “And how are you going to be available for that if you’re dead?”

  The light faded from her eyes, and she slumped against the arm of the sofa.

  Slade’s gut wrenched as he watched the fire die—and he was the one who’d doused it. He grabbed her shoulders. “Someone’s after you—you. They don’t care about the film right now. They just want to make sure you don’t get your hands on it. They’ve made that pretty clear. I don’t want you getting hit by a car, shot in a park or assaulted on the train—and I can’t be here forever.”

  Her body jerked under his grip. “What does that mean? Are you leaving? Is the shadow agency pulling you off this assignment?”

  “Not yet, but that’s a distinct scenario if we don’t find Lars’s footage, or even if we do and can’t make sense of it. A Navy SEAL can’t be on permanent assignment in New York City—even if I want to be.” He stroked the side of her neck with his fingers.

  Nicole fell into his arms, where he’d wanted her all along, and buried her face against his chest.

  He threaded his fingers through the tangles in her hair as he pressed his lips against her temple. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to scare you.”

  “Yes, you do,” she murmured against his shirt. “And you should. I need to be very afraid. What did your superiors say about this safe house for me?”

  Massaging the back of her neck, he said, “They haven’t responded yet. They haven’t responded to much of anything I’ve sent them.”

  “I get it.” She pulled away from him, her eyes meeting his, almost nose to nose. “They need me, don’t they?”

  “What do you mean?” He shifted his gaze to a point just above her left ear.

  Her delicate nostrils flared. “I thought you were into straight talk, Slade. The powers that be, Ariel, the ones pulling the strings need me here in Manhattan, searching for that film to draw out the bad guys.”

  “That thought did occur to me.”

  “Bastards.”

  “They did send me out here to watch over you.”

  “Oh, really?” She broke away from him, swinging her legs over the edge of the sofa and nearly knocking him over. “Then why were you sneaking around my mailbox? If you were sent to look out for me, why not just approach me? I think they wanted you to watch me, all right—watch while someone tried to kill me, allowing you to move in and nab the guy after the fact and pump him for info.”

  Slade didn’t have much of a comeback, because the same thing had occurred to him—only he’d never have allowed that to happen. He shrugged and rose to his feet. “It didn’t play out that way, did it?”

  “That’s because whoever chose you for the assignment obviously didn’t have a clue about your personality. You don’t play waiting games.”

  “I was chosen because I saved you once, but none of my sniper teammates would’ve bought into that plan—which makes me believe the people at the top aren’t military.” He caught her hand and squeezed it. “Their original intentions don’t mean I can’t force them to find a safe house for you.”

  “I just might take you up on that offer, but right now I’m going to get ready to storm a not-so-safe house in Queens with my partner.”

  After changing her skirt for a pair of dark jeans and low-heeled boots, Nicole joined him in the kitchen, where he raised a banana at her.

  “Hope you don’t mind. I should’ve had one of those grilled cheese sandwiches at the FBI cafeteria.”

  “Help yourself. We can get some dinner after we check out Friedrich’s house and before we meet Dahir. We’re just a couple of social butterflies.”

  “I wouldn’t call these social engagements.”

  “Two days ago I wouldn’t have, but now?” She shrugged. “It’s all I got.”

  They took her mother’s car service to Queens, since Nicole had sworn off trains for the time being, but Slade had the driver drop them off several blocks away from the address in Friedrich’s criminal file.

  Friedrich knew Slade had taken his weapon, knew he hadn’t been wearing gloves and probably knew they’d made him from his fingerprints. Slade didn’t expect the guy to be at home cooking dinner. He didn’t know what to expect.

  Old homes with peaked roofs and faded wood siding lined the streets in this area. An empty lot with a chain-link fence around overgrown weeds interrupted the line of houses.

  If a terrorist cell was funding Friedrich’s stay in New York, it hadn’t gone all out for him. The run-down neighborhood had Slade checking his pocket for his gun.

  “Wait.” Nicole grabbed his sleeve. “Do we have a plan? The guy tried to shoot us down in a train. What’s to stop him from taking potshots at us from his window as we approach the house?”

  “We’re not walking up to the front door
and knocking. We’ll approach from the side or the back, guns drawn.”

  “Gun—only one of us has one. What happens if a cop happens to cruise by while we’re peeping in the windows with a gun out?”

  “Then I use my get-out-of-jail-free card. The brass won’t be happy, but they’re not going to leave me hanging in the wind.”

  “You sure about that?” Nicole gave the chain-link fence a rattle and then continued down the sidewalk.

  A block later, Slade stepped off the curb. “Let’s cross the street here and do a little reconnaissance.”

  A few small businesses broke up the unrelenting stretch of battered residences, and Slade turned toward the first shop window and pretended to study the wares. Instead he was studying Friedrich’s house in the window’s reflection.

  Nicole breathed heavily beside him as she discovered a newfound interest in locks and keys. “See anything?”

  “Small front yard with a dumpster out front at the curb, so I don’t know what that’s all about. It looks like there’s a path that leads to the side of the house and maybe the back. Houses aren’t too close together, and the one on the right looks boarded up and abandoned.”

  “So, we veer to the right.”

  “Exactly.”

  “I don’t see any cars out front.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything. Are you ready, or do you want to go into this locksmith shop and wait for me while I have a look around?”

  “I’ll come with you. I’ve come this far.”

  “Do as I tell you and hit the deck when I say so.”

  “Don’t I always?”

  “As a matter of fact, you do.”

  They backtracked down the sidewalk and then crossed the street again, approaching the house from the side. They traipsed across the lawn of the abandoned house and then followed the dried grass and weed-strewn path along the side of Friedrich’s latest address.

  “Gloves?” He pulled his own out of his pocket and tugged them over his hands.

  Slade peered into the first window they came to, the skewed and broken blinds giving him a glimpse into an empty bedroom.