Man Down

by Misty Evans

  His voice was low, as if he suspected she was close by, but mostly all he said were details about what had happened to Chardy, and that, no, he had no idea who’d done it.

  “I’m screwed with this operation,” she heard him say. “I can’t take Chardy’s place, because Vaslov will recognize me.”

  The meetup with Vaslov was less than twenty-four hours from now. The Russian spy ring leader would be suspicious of anyone taking his place, and Bree mentally cursed that she couldn’t do it, but he knew her, having doled out some nasty torture on her, and he definitely knew Aidan.

  Once again, her stomach fell, realizing this might have been their last chance to finally put him out of commission and shut him down.

  By the time Aidan disconnected, she had hustled back to where the safe was. He gave her a look suggesting he knew she hadn’t been standing there the whole time, but he said nothing.

  Aidan punched in a number and spoke when someone on the other end answered. “I’m going to need to see the video footage of everyone who left the spa between six and seven tonight, Joey.” There was a pause. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a few minutes. Appreciate it, man.”

  He ended the call and bent to enter the code on the keypad. A moment later it opened. “All the safes are programmed with a digital override, just in case.”

  “And here I thought you knew everyone’s personal combination,” she said.

  He didn’t appreciate her flippancy, and swung the door wider. Bree looked over his shoulder to see inside and her brows crashed down. “What the hell?” she said under her breath.

  Aidan began pulling out the contents, including the laptop, as well as a medical kit. He unzipped it, his gaze coming up to hers. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one confused at the syringes and several bottles of some kind of injectable solution.

  Aidan pulled out a vial. There was no label. “What do you think he was doing with this?”

  Bree’s head spun. She looked between the syringes and bottle, then back, thinking about the needle puncture in Chardy’s neck. “Oh my god,” she said. “Aidan, I don’t think whoever he was meeting planned to kill him. I think it was just the opposite.”

  A muscle jumped in Aidan’s jaw. He dropped the vial into the medical kit and sighed heavily. His phone rang and he answered, his eyes locking on hers as he received information. “Yeah, okay. Thanks for letting us know.”

  He finished then tapped it against his leg. “Chardy’s dead.”

  Her heart sank, even though it wasn’t surprising. “Whoever he was meeting tonight, he planned to kill them.” She chewed on her bottom lip, trying to imagine what Chardy had been up to. “He had the poison, but somehow ended up being injected by his own syringe.”

  “A couple detectives are on their way to examine his belongings and question us further.” Aidan closed the safe. “We better get cleaned up and see what’s on this laptop.”

  Bree followed him out and paused in the hallway. He took her to the penthouse and dropped her at her front door. “Meet me downstairs at the security office as soon as you can,” he said.

  She was exhausted, and starving. Now they had to spend another hour or two talking to the cops and trying to figure out what they were going to do tomorrow night. At least, she hoped, Aidan would let her help.

  As he started to walk away, she grabbed him by the hand and pulled him toward her. “I’m going to help you. Don’t give up on the mission yet. We’ll figure something out.”

  He looked into her eyes and she felt something stir deep in her belly. He moved a strand of wet hair from her face before he tipped his head down and brushed a kiss across her lips. “Thank you,” he murmured.

  Then he was gone.

  Eight

  Taking command of the target

  * * *

  Aidan sat at his desk, his eyes sandpaper, a twitch in his neck muscles. The adrenaline was long gone, exhaustion engulfing him like a blanket. Four a.m., another long night.

  After he and Bree had spoken to the detectives, reviewed security footage in and around the spa, they’d attempted to hack into the encrypted files on the laptop. They had been unsuccessful with that, and Bree had called one of the people in her organization – Shadow Force International – and had some guy named Rory working on breaking it.

  Aidan wasn’t optimistic. The CIA’s abilities surpassed anyone’s he’d ever encountered.

  What the hell had Chardy been doing, meeting someone on that boardwalk? Why did he have what they assumed to be a poisonous substance and syringes? Aidan had hoped the cameras might show the man exiting the spa with someone, or perhaps meeting them in the parking lot before they went for the walk, but there had been nothing. Footage from inside had shown nothing more than Chardy leaving his room, going downstairs, and speaking briefly with Megan as she was on her way home after her day. She’d headed to the parking lot, while Chardy went in the opposite direction toward the beach. No one else had interacted with him before he left, and Aidan couldn’t speak to Megan until her shift started at eight.

  His mission was over, and damn it, he’d been so close to shutting down the espionage ring that’d gotten away from him, to capturing the man who tortured and nearly killed Bree.

  It was all he had lived for since she had sent him away.

  His gaze wandered to his bed where she rested on top of the covers. After hours of combing through footage and the laptop, and finding nothing, she’d fallen asleep at the table. Aidan had carried her to his bed, where she was now completely zonked.

  Sitting back in his chair, Aidan rubbed his eyes and blew out a disgusted breath. His handler was furious about Chardy and the blown mission. The CIA had been tracking Boris Vaslov for years, and if he got wind of what happened to Chardy…he’d never surface again.

  Debating whether to make a fresh pot of coffee and stay up, or try to catnap before his day began, Aidan watched Bree. She’d exchanged the wet torn dress for a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, her hair in a messy braid , multiple strands teased out of it and spread across his pillow.

  It’d been two years since he’d seen her like this, in his bed, and the emotions that swept over him were as thick as the exhaustion. It had taken a goatfuck of a situation to land her there, and he wasn’t sorry about that, but there was no way he could salvage the assignment now, and his marriage was still on the rocks.

  Maybe he should take her up on her offer and work for the organization she did. Perhaps he could salvage their marriage and prove the extent to which he’d go to have her back in his life.

  Rising slowly, he stretched, never taking his eyes off her. He’d go to any lengths to save her, protect her, love her. She’d made it clear she didn’t want any of that from him, but it was in his blood, his very cells.

  He would never give up on her, on the love he felt for her. He took their marriage vows seriously, and he’d be damned if he didn’t spend every moment from here on out romancing his wife back into a loving relationship.

  She would never be safe if Vaslov was running around, no matter who she worked for and how extensive their security measures were. Even if he had to become a shadow in the dark, and never let her know he was watching out for her, that’s exactly what he would do.

  She shifted, curling in a ball, and he realized she was probably chilled. He found a blanket and drew it over her.

  She stirred, eyes blinking open, and grabbed his hand just as he was about to walk away. “What time is it?” she asked.

  “Just after four.”

  She tugged, pulling him down. “Come to bed.”

  Her insistent hand, her sleepy voice, the exhaustion flooding through him… It was too much to resist.

  Everything below his waist stirred to life, even though the rest of his body screamed for slumber. Lying beside her was dangerous. No telling what could happen, especially if he did fall asleep and end up in the nightmare.

  After Russia they’d both suffered from them, but Bree seemed to have moved on from hers.
He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to. Having her so close while he slept was dangerous in and of itself. He couldn’t control his desire for her. Nor the longing, the ache, she always brought out in him. Since that first night in Vegas, she’d been the need he could never satisfy.

  “Aidan,” she said, “you’ve got to rest. I won’t leave until we figure this out.” She patted the comforter. “I mean it, come to bed.”

  The arguments in his head drifted away at the sound of her voice. Against his better judgment, he slid in, lying on his back and closing his eyes.

  He made sure not to touch her, but it did no good. She rolled over and tucked herself against him, using the blanket to cover them as she laid her head on his shoulder. Within seconds, her breathing deepened once again and he knew she was out.

  He followed her down into the depths of sleep, his dreams filled with her. She was laughing and teasing him, running from him through a park with green grass and tall trees. Sunlight glinted off her copper hair as it blew behind her. She shot him a look over her shoulder and waved him on to follow her, so he did.

  But in the next instant, he was inside that black prison again. Her laughter turned to screams, echoing off the walls, vibrating through his body and into his bones. He tried to yell, call her name, but his voice was locked inside his throat.

  He couldn’t move, shackles around his wrists and ankles. The vise grip was back around his chest, crushing him. He forced his voice out from the lockdown of his throat. “Bree!” he screamed. “I’m coming for you. I’m coming!”

  “Aidan,” he heard a voice say close to his ear. He struggled against the shackles, his helplessness and inability to get to her.

  “Aidan!”

  He sat straight up, eyes blinking, but what he saw was the prison walls, the concrete floor. Hands touched his shoulder, his back. He jumped.

  “Aidan, it’s me, Bree.”

  He snapped into the present, and found her beside him. Everything came tumbling back, a chain link, bit by bit falling in to place.

  “The nightmares again?” Her voice was soft, the hands rubbing him gentle, as if he were a child waking from a night terror.

  He leaned forward setting his elbows on his bent knees and dropped his face into his hands. “Jesus, I’m sorry.”

  She hugged him. “Don’t worry about it. Stress can bring on the nightmares. You’ve had an enormous amount of it in the past twenty-four hours.”

  He blew out a sigh and looked at her. “Do you still get them after a stressful day?”

  She nodded once. “Not as much as I used to, but sometimes shit just happens.”

  Bree had always had a way of blowing things off, serious situations like trauma and death, and moving on. The only thing she never had was the death of her mother.

  She leaned her head onto his shoulder, keeping her gaze on his. “I’m sorry about your mission. I really am.”

  She was so close he could smell her shampoo. Her hands felt like brands burning right through his shirt into his skin. Before his brain could fully return online, he found himself turning toward her, gripping the back of her neck and pulling her so their lips were almost touching. “My god, I’ve missed you so much.”

  She knew how to soothe the demons he fought day and night. She always had. It was what had attracted him in Vegas. Sure, he’d been there for a weekend of fun, but it had felt kind of hollow. He and some of his SEAL brothers had had leave and were looking for a good time. His showed up in Bree Russo, the fiery, spunky woman who dressed all in black, and wasn’t the least interested in him until she’d had several rounds of drinks.

  Her lips parted slightly as if she were about to respond, but she didn’t say anything, her eyes scanning, searching his as if she were gazing into his soul. She’d always been able to do that, mesmerizing him with silence and those uncanny looks.

  “How did I ever get so lucky to find you?” he asked softly.

  In the next moment, her lips moved just enough to brush his. “I’m not sure I’d call it lucky.”

  He knew what she meant. She’d always believed she was damaged goods. He knew better, and he’d tried over and over to make her understand how incredible she was.

  It was in that moment, nose to nose, their eyes locked, that he knew he would accept the position with Shadow Force International without a doubt. Not just because his mission was blown, or Bree had asked, but she always knew how to throw him a lifeline, and every time he accepted, it changed his life for the better. Even their screwed up, wacky marriage was more than he could have ever imagined for himself when he left the Navy. She was his true north, and no matter what chaos their marriage entailed, he was in one hundred percent.

  The hand on his back moved slowly up his shoulders to the base of his neck, into his hair. She massaged the area, trailing her fingers to his ear and running one around the edge, all the way down to the lobe. From there she traced his jaw to the front until their faces kept her from going farther. The finger went to his lips and touched them gently as well. “I’ve missed you too.”

  She spoke so softly he almost didn’t hear her, but then he was kissing her, words no longer important. Their bodies came together and melted as easily as their lips found each other.

  He wanted to slow things down, relish the moment of having her back in his arms, in his bed, but Bree seemed to have a different agenda. She broke the kiss, shoving him slightly so she could help get his shirt over his head. She shucked it to the floor, kissed him frantically again, then broke away to shed her own.

  Another kiss, then she went up on her knees, pushing her sweatpants down. She kissed him as she wiggled out of them, doing a dance that would make an acrobat jealous.

  He removed his just as quickly between kisses and soon they were naked, falling on the bed again, reveling in each other’s bodies.

  He trailed kisses down her neck, her collarbone, down to her breasts, even as he caressed her thighs, her hips and up to her belly. She moaned and arched into his hands, his lips.

  Everything in him was taut with need. His heart thundered in his chest, his body and soul filled with delicious desire and happiness.

  Her eyes closed, her body moving under him, and he couldn’t get enough of her. He licked and kissed, bit and sucked, loving all the reactions he got from her. She slid her hands over the hardness of him, grinding herself into him, and scratching her nails down his back.

  “I need to touch you,” she moaned.

  He needed to touch her too, to believe this was real. So he did.

  He went over her inch by inch, exploring what he’d missed for two years. It was almost like their first time, and he was damn well gonna make the best of it.

  When they finally came together, he slipped inside her and nearly lost himself. The sensation was so familiar and yet it had been such a long dry spell, he nearly lost control and went over the edge. Bree bit his earlobe, nipped at his neck, and he had to draw back for a moment, lifting his chest off hers, pulling his mouth from her warm heated skin.

  He searched her eyes, took in her beauty and promised himself he would never stay away from her again, no matter how much she ordered or begged. This is where she belonged, with him, and he would do what he had to do to prove it to her. As he thrust into her deeply again, and began to build a rhythm for them, he saw the promise in her eyes.

  It surprised him, that look, and he wondered if it was just the sex speaking for her, or if she had possibly changed her mind about moving forward with their marriage.

  But his body was in control at the moment, and whatever promises and secrets lay in the depths of her eyes, he would have to explore later.

  Once is an accident. Twice is a coincidence. Three times is enemy action.

  * * *

  Bree’s phone rang on the nightstand, waking her from a sound sleep. Without opening her eyes, she reached for it, her other hand on a warm, firm, muscled chest. Even with everything going on, she felt a sense of peace. Her sleep, what little she’d ha
d, had been amazing.

  Her body wanted to stay right there, snuggled in bed with Aidan, so she brought the phone to her lips and answered, “Hello?”

  Rory was on the other end. “Hello, cupcake. Sleeping in today?”

  Sighing, she swung her legs around and sat up. “No rest for the wicked. You know that, Rory.”

  He chatted for a moment regarding info he’d uncovered about Etienne Chardy and his bona fides. The bastard had turned double agent yet again.

  Disgusted, Bree wondered who he’d really worked for, certainly not his own country, Russia, or the United States. It appeared it was only for himself and the fallout could be enormous.

  “I broke through some of the encryption,” Rory said. “Chardy offered intel about two Russians inside the consulate working for the United States to the highest bidder. There are multiple encrypted messages to a bidder called Apple Pie Mama. I traced that to one of the suspected members of the spy ring McNamara is going after.”

  “Two Russians inside the consulate who are giving up information to the CIA?” Bree shook her head. “And Chardy was selling their names in exchange for what?”

  “Three billion dollars. Apparently, he was meeting Vaslov to deliver them. He was poisoned with a liquid nerve agent favored by Russian spies, so you put the pieces together.”

  Bree sighed heavily and glanced at Aidan. He was awake and his intense stare made her shiver. “Was he double crossing Aidan?” she asked.

  “Looks like he was working both sides pretty well,” Rory said. “He was giving up the consulate Russians for the money and Vaslov to McNamara.”

  “Covering all his bases then. He wanted Vaslov out of the game just in case, didn’t he?”

  “Appears so,” Rory confirmed.