Dangerous Lies

by Claudia Shelton

  “Are we almost there?”

  His earbud clicked at the same time a tiny star flashed bright white on the GPS. He motioned her to look over her shoulder at the screen. “That’s our ride.”

  “You two okay out there?” Drake sounded tired as he spoke through the secure communication system.

  “Sure thing. We could go another hundred miles.” Mitch would if need be. He’d keep going to his last second of life. When that time came, he planned to fall forward as he hit the dirt, or water, as the case might be.

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  Liz glanced up. “Drake’s on the boat?”

  “Evidently.” Mitch hadn’t planned on the boss coming out to meet them. That wasn’t the standard MO.

  Usually, the old man, as the agents liked to call the boss, would have been holed up back at the main headquarters in St. Louis. Most days, he could be found roaming the hallways, checking what was new in research, or offering input on new computer enhancements. Always trying to come up with innovative ways of maintaining security.

  A white spot spun off from the tiny star location and moved in their direction. Backup? Guide? Team member?

  Didn’t matter what you called the person on the way to their position, he was the OPAQUE agent charged with making sure the pickup went smoothly. And, that he and Liz were actually the ones being guided into the agency’s current mission base.

  He throttled back, bringing the Q40 to a floating stop on the water. Tapping Liz to get her attention, he held his fingers to his lips. She nodded.

  The other OPAQUE agent approached in silent mode. Still, Mitch knew the silent hum of a Q40 like he knew the click of a bullet being chambered. He tightened his grip on the throttle. If something felt off, he was ready to shoot into high speed in less than a second. If everything connected as okay, he’d need to give a return signal to the incoming agent.

  The incoming Q40 ripped into loud high gear. The GPS displayed a tight whip around double circle. Mitch reacted with a silent, slow circle then ripped into loud high gear as he deliberately fishtailed across the water, headed straight toward the star location. The other Q40 stopped parallel about six feet away.

  Former CIA agent turned OPAQUE agent, Reese Trenton gave his trademark casual salute with two fingers then tapped his earbud. “Did you lose your client?”

  “No. I’ve got her right here.” Mitch pulled the solar vest apart to where Liz could be seen in the glow of the screen.

  Reese raised his eyebrows and grinned. “Interesting arrangement you got there.”

  “This was the only way to keep her warm.”

  “Oh, I imagine both of you were plenty warm.” Reese indicated he’d lead the way to the boat.

  Mitch had worked with the newly recruited agent a few times before when the CIA and OPAQUE were in on an assignment. Drake had thought highly enough of the guy to persuade him to join OPAQUE. Only took three years. Mitch had seen enough of his work to know he was good, which meant instant trust in his book.

  Closing fast on the pickup boat, a shimmer of a glow in the near distance grew larger with each passing moment. This part always felt like coming home, or at least what he thought that should feel like. He’d had very few good homecomings as he grew up.

  Reese landed his Q40 on one of the lifts at the back of the boat and jumped on deck as the lift raised. Mitch pulled alongside the boat then grabbed hold of a rope ladder hung over the side.

  “What should I do?” Liz asked.

  “Stay where you are until I get everything set for transfer.” He unbuckled the solar vest from around them and shoved it into a compartment on the Q40. “You’ve sat in that position for so long, it may be hard for you to stand at first. Relax, and let us do the work of getting you onboard.”

  “Who?”

  He pointed upward then wrapped his arms beneath her bottom as he stood on the footrails of the Q40. Damn, his own legs were none too steady either, but he managed to balance and push her upward. Leaning over the side of the boat, Reese and Drake stood ready to hoist her on board. During that brief glance, Mitch noticed his boss had reacted to Liz’s seating arrangement with a frown.

  “Turn and reach as far up the ladder as you can,” Mitch said.

  She glanced toward the water. “What if I fall in?”

  “You’re not going to fall. I’ve got you.” He couldn’t believe they were having this same conversation again. If it was the last thing he ever did, he’d teach her how to swim. Right now, though, he had to get her on the boat, and she seemed frozen in place. “You going to let your fear of water keep you from living? Guess I gave you too much credit back there at the Mariner’s, E-liz-a-beth.”

  She shoved his chest and turned toward the ladder, then grunting, with an all-out scream, she grabbed a ladder rung as far up as she could reach. Then another one. He propped his shoulder against the boat, steadying her feet on the bottom rung as Reese and Drake leaned over the side and grasped beneath her arms. In one smooth motion, they pulled her aboard.

  Glancing back at him as she went over the boat rail, her expression said she was one pissed-off mama. “Mitch Granger, you are one pain-in-the rear!”

  At least she was on the boat. Now, if he were smart, he’d turn the Q40 around and head right straight back across that Gulf.

  Drake glanced over the side. “You plan to stand there all day?”

  “I’m thinking about it.” He eased back to the seat.

  “Well, stop thinking, and get your ass on board. We’ve got a lot to discuss.”

  Chapter Nine

  Liz fisted her hands to keep from crying out with the pain in her legs. Mitch had been right—she’d been in one position a long time, and she needed to come back to normal.

  The last time she’d felt this kind of all-out ache and burn had been three years ago, when she’d eavesdropped on a source’s conversation with a counterfeiter. She’d crouched, hiding in an air vent for a couple of hours, but she’d gotten the story, and an award. All of which had led to her position with her latest publishing company…make that her ex publishing company.

  Drake helped her to one of the seats on the boat and handed her a bottle of orange liquid. “Try to get it all down.”

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Call it a power juice. Filled with electrolytes.” Reese motioned her to lean away from the chair then massaged her back to get the blood flowing.

  She swigged a large gulp from the bottle, causing her to make a blah face once she’d swallowed. “Tastes terrible.”

  “Get it down. You’ll feel better.” Reese pulled her to her feet and steadied her when she took a few wobbly steps. Then less wobbly, until he finally let her walk on her own.

  She smiled. “Thanks. I feel better already.”

  “Get yourself a shower. Some clean clothes. A little food. You’ll be good as new.” He headed toward the bridge.

  Glancing around the dimly lit boat deck, one thing stood out—Mitch wasn’t there. Had his job been to get her to the boat, and nothing else? Had he left without saying goodbye? Her heart kicked up a few beats. She didn’t want him to be gone. They might have only known each other less than twenty-four hours, but those hours had been a lifetime. There were things she wanted to say. To do.

  “About time you got here.” Drake walked to the back of the boat and shook hands with Mitch as he came on board.

  ‘You worried about us?” Mitch asked.

  She blew out a soft sigh as her heart calmed into simply one beat after another.

  Drake handed him a bottle of power juice, also. “Not hardly. I figured the two of you would make a nice snack for the sharks, that’s all.”

  Edging a glance in her direction, Mitch raised his eyebrows and grinned. “You have no idea how close you came to being right.”

  Pressing her lips together, she smiled on the inside.

  Drake appeared not to notice. “Well, I’m glad they didn’t get you two.”

  “The sharks
or Coercion Ten?” Mitch asked.

  “Either one. It’s good to see you.”

  “You, too. Any news?”

  “Have you found my dad?” Liz leaned forward, focusing on Drake.

  He stared out at the dark waves and moved to the boat rail. “Let’s get you all settled before we talk.”

  That didn’t bode well. She could understand his concern for their well-being, but she didn’t plan to be left out of the loop or pushed aside. Drake, and the whole OPAQUE organization, needed to understand she wasn’t the type of person to go away nicely while they played their game of intrigue. Or espionage. Or whatever the heck this OPAQUE and Coercion Ten confrontation was about.

  Evidently, she’d been kept in the dark by her parents for over twenty-some-odd years. Lived a life she didn’t even know existed. Not anymore. “No. I will not get settled until you tell me what’s happened to my dad.”

  “There’s no news on your dad.” Drake shook his head as he turned to face her. “Now, how about you go below and get some of that food Reese mentioned?”

  “I’m not calling you a liar, but there’s something you’re not telling me. I can see it in your stance. Hear it in your tone.” She heard the tremor in her own voice. “I’m not going anyplace until you tell me why they want my dad.”

  Drake’s forehead furrowed. He glanced at Mitch then back at her. “I swear there’s nothing new on this situation.”

  “I heard you tell Mitch, we’d talk later.”

  “Trust me, we will. My current priority is for you to take care of yourself. Can you do that for me?”

  Lightheaded for a moment, she had to admit food might be a good idea. Trust was another thing. She’d always trusted her dad. He had trusted Drake. Naturally, she’d trusted Drake, too. Now, they’d both lied to her. So, whom could she trust? Who hadn’t lied to her? Kept her in the dark?

  She brushed her hair back from her face then glanced at Mitch. “What do you think? Is he telling me the truth?” She’d believe whatever she heard from him. After all, he’d been the man who pulled her from the water, gotten her safely across the Gulf, and kept her warm. Now, she was tired and needed him to help her one more time. To tell her the truth.

  A brief glance exchanged between the two men, and he said, “He’s not lying to you.”

  She lowered her head. No word…no word on her dad. How much worse could this get? She looked up. “Does he ever lie?”

  “Yes. He does.” Mitch raised his eyebrows.

  Something deep inside her barred her from asking the next question in her mind.

  He stepped forward, gently turning her toward the steps down to the cabin. “You’ve had a long night, Liz. Time to take a break.”

  “Thanks…for everything.” She touched the side of his hand then plodded over to Drake and gave him a hug. “Sorry.”

  “Nothing to be sorry about.” Drake hugged her then pointed toward stairs leading to the boat cabin. “Each stateroom has a bathroom. You’ll find clean clothes laying on one of the beds. We guessed at your size.”

  “I need to know one thing before I go,” she said. “Do you think my dad is still alive?”

  “Yes.”

  His answer had been direct, fast, and to the point. For the time being, she’d have to settle for that.

  She nodded then took the steps down the passageway into the boat cabin. The main area included a modern galley kitchen complete with stainless appliances, large sitting space, and hallway, leading to the staterooms she guessed. Neutral walls and furnishings, with accessories in bright white and even brighter colors, made the place inviting.

  Anchored like they were with the engines off, the peacefulness of quiet and the lull of the waves would make sleeping easy. Feeling a light breeze as she walked past one of the open portholes, she stopped and moved closer, lifting her face toward the wind fluffing her hair.

  “Do you think she’s gone to her stateroom?” Mitch asked. “Because we need to talk.”

  She pressed against the cabinets, making sure to tuck her toes out of view. Why would they check to make sure she couldn’t hear? Had they both lied to her? Worse yet, had the lie been something bad about her dad neither wanted her to know?

  Footsteps sounded on the deck, stopping at the top of the passageway stairs. “Looks like it,” Drake responded as his footsteps carried back across the deck. “Let’s go to the wheelhouse where she won’t be as apt to hear us.”

  The two pairs of footsteps climbed the stair ladder to the wheelhouse. She moved partway up the steps out of the cabin, hoping to find a better spot to listen. If they started the engines, she wouldn’t be able to hear, but for now she was just fine.

  “Where’s my team?” Mitch’s footsteps had barely stepped onto the wheelhouse deck before he got right to the point.

  “Reese will be part of the setup on this end,” Drake answered. “Joey and he will—”

  “Cut through the bull. What happened to the rest of my team?”

  Drake cleared his throat. “Coercion Ten hit with an all-out attack at the beach house. Good news, we repelled the assault with help from the FBI and the local police. They even captured a couple of CT guys.”

  “Bad news?” Mitch’s tone sounded ominous, like the rumble of thunder in the distance.

  “Josh was grazed by a bullet.” Reese took up the telling, his voice clear, his words straightforward. “One FBI agent has busted ribs, another a busted nose. The rest of the resistance, including your team, got by with scrapes and bruises. Except for Cat.”

  Liz heard her own intake of breath and covered her mouth as she took the last few steps to the main deck. No lies, no secrets; she needed to know what happened.

  “Cat took a bullet to the shoulder,” Reese continued. “Would have been a clean shot straight through, but the bullet hit a bone. Fragmented. One of the pieces landed against her spine.”

  Liz clenched her fingers.

  “Last we heard, the surgeon had removed all the fragments. We’ll know more in a couple of days, after the swelling around the spine goes down. Prognosis looks good.”

  Cat. Prognosis. Good. Liz breathed a sigh of relief.

  Mitch had been strangely quiet throughout the report of the assault and injuries. In fact, at the moment, everyone in the wheelhouse seemed abnormally quiet.

  “What else?” Mitch’s tone had hardened, lowered a notch.

  “I left Stealth and Joey to keep an eye on Cat. Provide security for her. Josh will head back to the St. Louis headquarters.” Drake sucked in a deep breath. “Once we get you and Liz relocated, Reese can call OPAQUE headquarters for any needed backup.”

  Quiet again. Lots and lots of deafening quiet.

  “What else?” Mitch asked, his words insinuating with their flatness.

  “That’s everything at the beach house,” Reese replied.

  “Don’t play games with me. I heard the explosion. I saw the explosion on the horizon.” Mitch paused. “What happened to Keith?”

  Liz replayed their escape from the beach house. Keith had had their back. He took the other Q40. Created a diversion. Then… Explosion? Flames? Keith? She’d been in such a panic during the escape and because of her fear of the water, she’d thought only of herself and Mitch.

  Suddenly, she wanted to flee from the answer before it came. Tears flooded her eyes.

  Why? Why had a sense of doom settled in her chest? She wanted to run to Mitch and wrap her arms around him. To cover his ears with her hands, keep him from hearing the answer. Why did she feel the need to protect him? Suddenly, she wanted to be anyplace but here…even in the water. Because the answer would—

  “Keith didn’t make it.” Drake coughed. “CT blew him out of the water.”

  “Dead?” Mitch roared with a mix of anger and angst. “Keith’s dead?”

  Her legs felt like mush, her knees started to buckle. She steadied herself against the stairs leading to the wheelhouse and held on tight to keep from falling. The agent who had covered her and
Mitch’s back as they escaped Captiva? The agent who’d quietly rode his Q40 in the opposite direction from them? Who’d revved into a high-speed roar only to divert any lurking Coercion Ten operatives? He’d died to save their lives?

  From the wheelhouse, what sounded like a couple of thuds of a fist hitting a solid object floated across the air. The boat slightly swayed, along with a tiny squeak. And Mitch groaned with a hollow echo that punctuated the loss.

  Her heart broke, and tears that had settled in her eyes a minute ago now flowed down her cheeks. Salty streams of shock and sadness swam to her lips, and she licked the salt away. Salt like the ocean. Salt that burned wounds. Salt that lived on emotion.

  “My team’s in shambles. One dead. One may be paralyzed.” Mitch’s voice crashed through the night. “I think you’ve got some explaining to do, Drake. What’s so damn important about this case that CT would send in an attack force?”

  She’d like to hear that answer, too. What could possibly be worth a man’s life?

  “I know this is hard, Mitch,” Drake said. “Anytime we lose someone, it’s hell.”

  Mitch started down the stairs from the wheelhouse. “I quit.”

  Trying to hide, Liz rushed to the shadows near the side rail of the boat.

  “You don’t mean that,” Drake shouted. “You’ve got an assignment to complete, Agent Granger.”

  “The hell I do. If you think Liz is so damn important, you protect her. I’m tired of hauling her sorry ass out of the water.”

  She clenched one hand into a fist and clamped the other over her mouth to keep from telling him exactly what she thought about his sorry egotistical—

  “And I don’t buy that all this protection is to simply cleanse your conscience for convincing her dad to turn evidence.” Mitch paused. “Spit it out, old man, why are you so concerned about her survival? You act like she’s your daughter. Is she?”

  A long stretch of thundering quiet followed as she slowly dropped her hands to her sides.

  “Get some rest,” Drake said. “We’ll talk later.”

  Mitch took a couple of steps back up the stairs. “Answer the damn question, Drake. Is she your daughter?”