HARD LINE

by Justice, A. D.

  We adjourn in a spare bedroom, Silas ensures his signal jamming device is on, and Tawnee and I bring everyone up to speed on the details she shared with me. When all their questions have been answered, the heavy blanket of silence covers the room as they digest the information.

  “What do you think, Silas? Do we stay or do we go?” He rubs his hand along his jawline, weighing our options against the risks we face. But I already know what he’ll say—his hesitation gave it away.

  “We’re staying until this is done. She’s one of us—she helped you protect my parents when that lunatic was running around unchecked several years ago. I won’t leave her to face this alone. Rafael is adamant he won’t leave until he completes his real estate deal. If that’s what he wants to do, that’s fine with me. But I’ve got to tell you, it thoroughly pisses me off that he’s so indifferent to his team’s safety. Tawnee could head home and let someone else take over running the detail, but she can’t live her life looking over her shoulder, waiting for some random man to grab her.”

  “Your director told you to stay on the job, didn’t he?” Tawnee tilts her head to the side and raises her eyebrows.

  “He may have suggested we need to identify who’s luring Roman to the Middle East and neutralize the threat while we’re here.”

  “Ah, you’re shitting me. He figured it out before I did?”

  “That goes without saying, and it’s why he’s the director. He’s been doing this a lot longer than you have, Roman.”

  “Yeah, you have a point there. So, Tawnee… do you want to hang out in Dubai, put your life on the line with a group of Arab men who want to kidnap you, and cheat death out of the pleasure of using his sickle on you?”

  “Well, Roman, when you put it that way…how can I possibly resist?”

  Before this is over, she’ll be saying I’m the one she can’t resist. That is now my personal mission. It just so happens she and I will have plenty of time together in the very near future. I glance over at Silas and notice he’s doing his Jedi mind trick shit again, reading Tawnee like a book. I’ve also learned to interpret the subtleties in his expressions better, and it’s clear he respects her even more now.

  “Nick, tomorrow morning, take Blake and go talk to the police. See what information they’ll release about the scene or any angle they’re working. I’ll have a closer look at the security team members. Roman, you’re on bodyguard duty for the time being. Don’t let Tawnee out of your sight.”

  Thank you, Silas. I’ll even babysit your daughter when we get home in return for giving me this assignment.

  I will guard Tawnee’s body with mine any time of the day or night. Vigorously.

  Tawnee folds her arms over her chest and pins me with her glare. Maybe Silas isn’t the only mind reader of the group. “Wipe that grin off your face and get that thought out of your mind right now, Roman.”

  Her direct order only makes me smile more.

  Chapter 8

  Tawnee

  When we emerge from the spare bedroom, Rafael and the rest of the team stop talking, and all heads turn to us. Raf is the type of man that enjoys being the one in charge of everything, regardless of the circumstances or who else is involved. In this case, he doesn’t have the expertise to be the one who calls the shots. And that really bothers him.

  “Did the five of you solve the problems of the world in your impromptu bedroom meeting?” Raf asks with only a hint of sarcasm bleeding through his typically controlled tone.

  “As a matter of fact, we did. Did you expect any less of us?” Roman throws his own sarcastic jab back.

  Maybe all of us staying in Dubai isn’t the best course of action after all. I can already see the frustration building in Rafael, and Roman isn’t likely to back down to any man.

  I’ll be caught in the middle of their virtual pissing contest. That’s just fucking great.

  “Tawnee alone has my confidence. I don’t know the rest of you from Adam. You could be the most incompetent of all the agents for all I know.”

  “Officers.”

  “Pardon?”

  “We’re CIA officers, not agents.”

  “So?”

  “So, your assumption is wrong right off the bat. We’re not the most incompetent agents at all.” Roman’s goading is intentional. He remains completely calm while Rafael uncharacteristically shows signs of his increasing aggravation. “But we’re damn good officers.”

  “Rafael, Roman, that’s enough from both of you. This isn’t helping our situation at all.” I shoot dirty looks at both men for putting me in this predicament in the first place. “Rafael, I can personally vouch for these men. They are the best at what they do, and they’ve already identified key factors I completely missed in all the chaos. You need to give them a chance.”

  “For you, I will do my best.” His attention remains on me, not bothering to give the men helping us even a fleeting glance. I know exactly what this means. Rafael won’t take orders from them out of spite. Instead, he’ll wait until the word comes directly from me.

  “Everyone—take a seat so we can talk as a team. Silas, I’m passing the speaking baton to you since you’re the senior officer here. We’re working together, but he’s in charge of the plan.” I glance around the room at every member of my team, wordlessly driving home my point.

  “To be blunt, there are too many variables in this equation for anyone to assume anything. That’s why I’ve already given each person on my team very specific marching orders. The message Roman received wasn’t a fluke—someone wants him here for a reason. They may have been trying to kidnap Tawnee as a means to draw him in. When that didn’t work, they grabbed her phone and used a system our IT guy created from scratch. It’s not available to the public, so they have their own tech guru working behind the scenes too. Until we know exactly what they want with Tawnee and Roman, I’ve instructed them to stay by the other’s side.

  “As I understand it, Mr. Cruz, they rescheduled your real estate meeting for next week and that’s your only business here in the Middle East. Is that correct?”

  “Yes, it is.” The skeptical expression is still firmly intact.

  “In that case, it’s best that you stay on the hotel grounds with your security team around you at all times. We don’t have enough intel yet to confirm if you are a target or not. It’s best not to roam around out in the open like a walking bull’s-eye. To be clear, I’ll help keep you safe as much as I can. But I’ve been given orders from my superiors, and they don’t include being your bodyguard. So, if you decide to venture off the grounds, know that you’re doing so at your own risk and without my team or Tawnee.”

  I understand Silas’s directness. As an officer in perilous situations, he can’t risk being misunderstood. His edicts must be followed to the letter—dotting all the I’s and crossing all the T’s. However, Rafael isn’t quite as understanding as I am.

  Rafael deserves plenty of credit, though. He commands the room when he walks into a meeting. There’s an innate air of authority about him that makes people flock to him everywhere we go. The way he carries himself, the way he dresses, and the way he speaks show a refinement most people don’t possess. His charisma draws others in, but his shrewd business side leaves no doubt in their mind that he can be ruthless when he must be.

  But he has a definite problem with authority. I think that’s the underlying reason he started buying the controlling shares in various companies several years ago. He felt limited by the decisions and practices of the nameless and faceless company insiders. Since he had no power or influence to change their rules, he worked until he took over the company itself and changed what best suited him.

  “So, if they’re after Roman and were planning to use Tawnee as leverage to get to him, why would you put the two of them together? Doesn’t that just make it easier for the bad guys to nab them both at the same time?”

  “I can understand why you would think that, since you’re not an expert in security measures. But, n
o, it doesn’t make it easier at all. Think about it. If Tawnee is overseeing your security team, it divides her attention. She’s responsible for making sure you’re safe, that her team is following orders, and adjusting coverage on the fly when you decide to change plans at the last minute. She doesn’t have the luxury of focusing on her own protection in that scenario. Whereas, by putting two highly trained and skilled operatives together, they can focus on their own safety and help each other. They’ll assess their surroundings through a different lens automatically because that’s what they’re trained to do.”

  “If you say so. Tawnee and Roman can stay here in my suite. I have two extra bedrooms they’re welcome to use.” Rafael is speaking to Silas while looking at me.

  Maybe I should feel flattered Rafael doesn’t want me to be alone with my ex-boyfriend because he recently confessed his feelings for me, but his response isn’t exactly a compliment. In the years since I met Raf, he’s always had a domineering demeanor, but this reaction is different. His demand is more like a manipulation and control tactic, and I don’t appreciate it at all.

  “Rafael, that’s not necessary. I’m already settled into my room downstairs, and there’s plenty of room in it for Roman too. We’ll be fine—no need for you to worry about us.”

  “We’ve had a long day. Let’s all go upstairs to the rooftop restaurant and have dinner together. The sunset views are stunning.”

  Avoiding the subject won’t make it go away and won’t change my mind, Raf. But then you already know that about me.

  “Good idea. Full bellies and empty bottles of wine are exactly what we need right now.”

  “My thoughts exactly. I’m glad to see we’re on the same page.”

  My witty sarcasm is wholly lost on Raf.

  Inside the elegant French restaurant on the highest floor in the hotel, the pissing contest continues when we take our seats. Roman slides into the seat beside mine before Rafael can claim it. The two men act out their juvenile charades with glares, passive-aggressive verbal jabs, and accidental hits with elbows. I choose to ignore them both and stare out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the Persian Gulf in awe.

  The setting sun shimmers on the water like a million brilliant diamonds in full display. The lights of the city begin to blink on in the dusk of the day. Brief moments like this make me wish for a less hectic life. One that would allow me the chance to slow down and enjoy these exotic locales instead of only having a passport stamp to prove I’ve visited. A few cheesy tourist photos would be terrific—when I’m feeling nostalgic or want to show my kids what an exciting life I’ve lived. One day. Hopefully.

  While everyone else is engaged in lively conversations around the table and enjoying the exquisite meals, I use the time to observe each person silently. After Roman and I split, I quit working for Steele Security and moved away from Miami. Noah Steele, Silas’s younger brother, freely gave me advice and recommendations, viewing me as an ally rather than competition. Tabitha was one of the first people I hired for Rafael’s detail. She’s been with us almost from day one of venturing out on my own. Seated next to her is Carter, another long-term employee. While I haven’t confirmed anything, I have my suspicions those two are more than friends after work hours. But all I care about is that they’ve both had my back in every situation we’ve encountered.

  Next to Carter is Tony, a longtime employee of Rafael’s. When Raf hired me to oversee all his security details, vetting everyone who had direct access to him—that included Tony. A few questionable charges came up on his background check that made me want to dig deeper, but Rafael explained them away as cases of either self-defense or defending his employer. He assured me Tony had earned his place in the ranks several times over. He wouldn’t allow the acts of greedy people who only wanted Raf to pay them off to make the charges go away tarnish Tony’s years of loyal service.

  The stories seemed plausible at the time, and I was willing to give Tony the benefit of the doubt—until the first time he disobeyed my direct order. Then I called in a favor to a law enforcement friend who provided more detailed information about those charges. Raf’s explanations were generous, but it seems Tony was defending Raf against someone in every instance. Whether Tony committed the crime in question, or he simply took the fall for something Raf had done, was never firmly established.

  Either way, Tony had gone above and beyond to prove his loyalty to Rafael, so I dropped the crusade against his arrests. Even though he and I still butted heads repeatedly afterward because he resented taking orders from a woman. If I had to guess, I’d say it bruised his ego when Raf didn’t choose him for my role, especially after taking hits to his credibility because he covered for Rafael. Allegedly covered, that is.

  Jason and John both joined Raf’s protection detail after they completed their stints in the military. They haven’t been with us for as long as Tabitha and Carter have, but they’ve both proven their mettle on multiple occasions. Anyone would be hard-pressed to walk away with the high commendations those two men have.

  Roman suspects someone on my team is behind this attack, but there isn’t one person I can point an accusing finger at and still sleep at night. The security breach isn’t on my team—I would bet my life on it. That only leaves one person who has the access, motive, and means to take me out of the equation. Only one man who would benefit the most from my permanent absence.

  But the puzzle piece that doesn’t fit is probably the most important one of all.

  Tony doesn’t even know Roman, so why send the fake distress call to get him here?

  In fact, Roman and his coworkers’ presence only makes the situation more difficult for Tony. So, what’s his angle?

  “There are tricks to flushing out a double agent. They all trip up eventually. It gets harder to keep all the lies straight. The reasons why they’re sticking their necks out don’t make as much sense anymore.” Silas is answering someone else’s question, but he’s looking at me. “The signs are usually there if you know what to look for.”

  “What signs are those?” Tony asks. His tone is more of a challenge than curiosity… or maybe I’m biased against him.

  “In my line of work, it’s almost always a large windfall of money that arrives out of the blue. I’m always suspicious of anyone who says their rich uncle died and left them a hefty inheritance.”

  Silas is right… the signs will present if I just keep my eyes open and watch for them.

  “Tawnee, do you think we could go down to the lounge on the ground floor? I’ve read the terrace is beautiful in the evening, and that bar is the best place for evening cocktails.” Tabitha’s hopeful expression makes it nearly impossible to tell her no. She only wants some free time with Carter that doesn’t involve a locked hotel room. “There are a lot of outdoor tables with triangle-shaped lamps to light up the veranda.”

  Hopeless romantic to the end.

  “What do you say, guys? Think we’ll be safe around the pool, in the waning light of day, with all of us together?” I glance around the table, waiting for a rousing round of “no” from the alpha-male league.

  “I think that’s a great idea. Let’s go. We’ll have a few drinks, listen to some music, observe the male peacock in his natural habitat.” Silas lifts his glass to his mouth to hide his smirk.

  Funny, but I’m not sure which strutting peacock he’s referring to at the moment—Rafael or Roman.

  “If there’s music, then there’s dancing.” Roman turns to me and waggles his eyebrows.

  “Do you have no sense of culture or propriety at all?” Rafael’s patience is hitting a breaking point. “You are in Dubai, Roman. You don’t dance in public unless you want to be arrested for indecency. By all means, have at it. Dance until your heart is content—but do it alone so no one else has to pay for your stupidity.”

  Roman’s face burns bright red—even his eyes have a fiery flare in them. He starts to rise out of his seat, his hands curled into tight fists, but I put my hand on his arm to distract
him.

  “Sit down. You are not fighting in here.” Roman does as I say, so I turn my attention to my employer. “Rafael, that was uncalled-for and impolite. Roman isn’t here on vacation. He rushed here to help me. You’ll have to forgive him for not researching the rules and customs ahead of time and be a little more gracious for the additional help.”

  “You’re absolutely right, Tawnee. I offer my apologies to you, Roman. That was rude and condescending—two traits I abhor in other people. And, as she pointed out, I’m in your debt for helping keep us safe. I think a little time out on the terrace in the warm ocean breeze would do us all some good.”

  Roman keeps his gaze locked on Rafael, but he finally nods, signaling his agreement. I suppose that’s the best response I can hope for from him.

  “Thank you, Rafael. I appreciate the effort you’re showing. I’m ready for some fresh air myself.”

  We take the elevator down to the mezzanine level and then ride the two-story-high escalator down to the lower lobby level. Tabitha and I chat and laugh, finally letting go of the stress I’ve been carrying. Until something catches my attention in my peripheral vision. When my eyes lock on to the source, my lungs seize in my chest, and I reach for the nearest source of comfort I can find. My fingers dig into Roman’s arm, squeezing and clawing out of equal terror and disbelief.

  “What’s wrong? What is it?” His hand covers mine as the urgency in his tone increases. “Tawnee, talk to me.”

  “That’s him, Roman. The one who tried to grab me in the back of the car.” I point to the man strolling across the lower lobby floor as if he owns the place. He’s not in a hurry. He’s not concerned with being seen. He’s staying in the same hotel as us.

  “Which one? The man in the white dress with the red-checkered do-rag on his head?”

  “He’s wearing a thobe, the traditional Arab garment. And that’s not a do-rag, it’s his headdress. But yes, that’s the one.” At least Rafael doesn’t sound as patronizing while he explains customary Arab clothing.