Agent E2: Aidan (Superhero Romance) (The D.I.R.E. Agency) (21 page)

Filling them in on the next few hours of his mission, Aidan stopped when he recounted spotting the blonde.

“Figures you’d follow the woman.” Tristan grinned.

Fast-forwarding to the warehouse, Aidan got to the point when the sailor unlocked the double doors. “Out comes a sleek Pontiac Deluxe 8 Silver Streak and guess who’s driving it?”

Tristan said, “The brunette.”

Aidan nodded.

“And that’s when you followed orders and left, right Monroe?” Mitchell glared at him from the other end of the table.

Swallowing hard, Aidan turned back to the screen. “I’ll, uh, let the video speak for itself.”

Robinson resumed the video. His time in nineteen forty-four played out, the time machine, the chalkboards…

“Is that Albert Einstein?” Robinson blurted, his bug eyes glued to the screen.

Aidan grinned. “Yep. Crazy, huh?”

“Now,
I
want to go back,” Robinson said.

All of it seemed crazy, traveling back in time amongst people that were most likely dead now. In his mind, the entire scenario seemed illogical, yet it happened. He had video proof.

On the screen, the car honked in the distance. In the background, Einstein looked up, while Chalmers continued to read. The woman said, “Jocelyn’s back with lunch.”

Mitchell’s soft drink fell over on the table, its contents spilling across the surface. Tristan jumped up and grabbed some napkins off a credenza against the wall. Robinson stopped the video.

Sitting up in his chair, Mitchell’s face was a sheet of deathly white, his eyes glued to the screen.

What the hell? Aidan exchanged a glance with Tristan.

“What is it?” Tristan tossed the napkins in the trash can.

“Play the video.” Mitchell spun his hand in a circular

motion.

Looking around at the others, Robinson’s gaze went back to

Mitchell who appeared transfixed.

“I said play the
video, dammit.
” Mitchell shouted, his hand fisted on the table.

Holy shit. Mitchell never yelled. The video resumed.

The blonde looked around. “Where’s Nichols?”

“Pause it.” Mitchell’s tone brooked no argument.

Three-quarters of the blonde’s face appeared in the foreground, Chalmers’ profile behind her, Einstein in the far distance.

Mitchell just stared at the screen.

“What is it, dammit?” Tristan’s tone held the same demanding tone as Mitchell’s had earlier.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Mitchell lowered his voice to a faint whisper. “Nothing.”

Rising from his chair, he got up and walked out the door.

After examining the video for an hour, Tristan and Aidan gave up trying to figure out what Mitchell saw in that scene. Other than the blonde saying Jocelyn was back, nothing had changed from one minute to the next. There was no sign of the damaged computer, no sign of the gold, nothing.

They just didn’t get it.

Later that evening on the roof, Aidan stood beside Tristan and stared up at the faint stars. He’d had it with the hospital gown so Tristan grabbed him a pair of grey athletic shorts and a U.S. Navy t-shirt from his apartment. It hurt like hell to walk, and he probably shouldn’t be doing it so soon. Yet, he knew that the sooner he moved around, the sooner he’d get back on his feet and in bed with Cass.

He hungered for her to near obsession. One night definitely wasn’t enough. He didn’t think he’d
ever
get enough. With her away in Creekmore, he’d grown more anxious as the day wore on. He hated being away from her.

“I’m in love with Cass.”

Tristan grinned, his face shadowed in the dim blue light of his armband. “I know.”

Aidan whipped around to look at him. “How do you know?”

“You told her.”

“I did not.” Did he?

“You did. When you were stuck between… times. She heard you.”

Dammit. He’d wanted to tell her tonight.

“What was it like?” Tristan turned to look at him. “Floating out there in… limbo?”

Aidan stared out at the speckled gray before him. “Kind of like this, but no stars. Just darkness and me.” He stared down at his bare hands. “I remember staring at the blood on my hands and my side, and thinking I’d never see her again. It tore me apart.”

“Tell her.”

The two of them turned around. Mitchell lay on one of the lounge benches, one arm over his eyes, the other hanging off the side, an empty bottle of bourbon loosely clasped in his fingers.

The two of them exchanged a glance before walking over. Tristan tried to take the bottle from his hand.

Mitchell tightened his grip. “I’m not through with that.”

Aidan sat on the coffee table behind Tristan. Mitchell Jacobs lay just this side of passed out drunk. His words slurred into each other, his dark hair sticking out in all directions.

The man that always had it under control had lost it.

Tristan squatted in front of his father. “Looks like you
are
through with it.”

“No.” He shook his head against the bench. “I’ve still got a few swallows.” Raising it to his mouth, the remnants spilled down his face.

It was empty now.

“What are you doing out here, Mitchell?” Tristan said.

“Drinking. Heavily.” He laughed, bourbon gurgling in his throat.

“No shit. Why?”

Swallowing hard, Mitchell’s throat bobbed.

“Mitchell…” Tristan said with a warning tone.

“I f’d up, Tristan. I freaking messed up.”

Aidan could see the genuine worry in his best friend’s blue gaze. Scooting over, he made room for Tristan to sit in front of his father.

“What happened?” Tristan said.

“I let her go.” His voice thick with tears, Mitchell shook his head. “I loved her. God, I loved her.”

“Who? Mom?”

He nodded against the bench. “And, with some freaking grace from above, she loved me, too.” He gave a bitter laugh. “For a while, anyway.”

He turned to look at Tristan, his eyes unfocused. “When I would get home from an op, she would start undressing me as soon as I got in the door. Sometimes we’d make love right there in the doorway. The dinner she made would grow cold, the candles burned down to nothing.” His hand sliced the air.

He pointed at Tristan, the bottle dangling from his fingers. “When she found out she was pregnant with you, I was in Grenada. She called Admiral Jones and made him track me down.” He chuckled to himself. “I’m in the middle of the jungle and I get a call over the radio, expecting my CO. Her sweet-“ He swallowed hard. “Her sweet voice comes over the radio. ’I’m pregnant, honey.’ She started crying and laughing at the same time.” His voice softened. “Of course, there I stood, surrounded by my team in the middle of a freaking Grenada jungle, laughing and crying with her.”

Tristan swallowed hard. “If you were so happy, what happened?”

His arm dropped, the bottle breaking against the roof floor.

“Shit, Mitchell...”

Leaning forward, Tristan grabbed the neck of the bottle from his hand. Aidan picked up the big pieces and placed them on the table behind him.

With his arm over his eyes again, Mitchell sniffed back tears. “If they would’ve given that damned promotion to Naylor, she’d still be with me.” He shouted a loud, succinct curse.

Aidan hung his head. Angela had left him because he left her home alone too much. A common problem for SEALS and other Special Forces soldiers.

He had to remember that with Cass. He couldn’t allow this job, his powers, to take over his life.

Tristan’s voice grew weary. “Mitchell, what’s done is done. It’s in the past.”

“You can say that again.” He laughed like he’d told the funniest joke.

The laughter stopped in an instant. “Oh God, what have I done?” He rolled to his side as if in agony.

“Mitchell?” Tristan touched his arm.

No response. Had he passed out?

“
Mitchell
.” Tristan said it with more force. “What happened today? What did you see?”

His words were slurred. “The woman in the video…”

“What about her?”

“She’s your mother.” His snores echoed in the desert silence.

Leaving behind Mitchell to sleep off his drunk, Aidan struggled to keep up with Tristan’s angry strides. His side burned like hell.

“Do you think he meant what he said?”

Aidan’s gut told him Mitchell spoke the truth. He’d seen the woman in the flesh and Cass looked a lot like her. Hell, it’s what had drawn him to her in the first place.

Tristan turned the corner, storming past the guards on the Administration floor. “There’s only one way to find out. I’m going to pull my file. There’s bound to be a picture of her-“

Both of their armbands lit up. They looked at each other before answering in unison.

“Cass.”

“Rachel.”

Aidan walked away from Tristan so he could hear. “Are you okay? Are you with Rachel?”

“Yes. You and Tristan need to get down here, Aidan.” Her words were rushed, as if she couldn’t get them out fast enough. “There’s a storm brewing.”

His heart shot to a gallop. “Like a time travel storm?”

“Yes. Exactly.”

“Where are you?”

“We’re at the charity donation store dropping off Ben’s clothes.” He heard the wind in the background.

Shit. That meant they were just down the street from the electronics store. “Do not leave that store, understand me? Stay inside.”

“The store’s closed. We’re dropping them off at a box outside.” He heard thunder boom in the background, rain pounding the truck with force.

Tristan tapped him on the shoulder. “I told Rachel to get to the ranch. The agents are there.”

So was Ben’s gun collection.

Nodding, Aidan fell in step with Tristan who headed in the opposite direction of the Administration offices. “We’ll be there in a minute, baby. Don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried about us, I’m worried about you. Why are they coming back? Are they after you?”

Jocelyn. Maybe she’d come forward for help.

“I’m the last person you need to worry about, Cass. You and Rachel get to the ranch.”

“Got it.”

He signed off and sighed. “I told the girl, Jocelyn, to come forward if she needed help.”

Halting mid-step, Tristan stared at him, mouth agape. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

He shrugged. “We never got that far. Mitchell walked out.”

Tristan ran his fingers through his hair.

“She’s afraid. She asked me to bring her back.”

Tristan shut his eyes, clearly exasperated.

“Come on, Jacobs. You saw Buckner hold that gun to her head. You know she’s in danger.”

“You’re right, you’re right.” Tristan started walking again. “If it’s her, we need to help her. If it’s not, they came after you.”

“Or the gold. Or the weapons.”

Tristan stopped at the weapons room and scanned his thumb over the access panel. He shoved open the door.

Aidan followed him inside and grabbed a Beretta 9MM out of the case. “And if it’s your mother?”

Tristan checked his gun before shoving it in the back of his jeans. “If my mother’s been living in the past all of this time, I will kill Mitchell myself.”

#####

Cass looked up at the silent sky, clouds giving way to brilliant stars beyond. Rachel shifted the old truck into first as she slowed to a stop on Main Street.

Two men appeared in the headlight beams, blocking their way. Wearing old military uniforms, one was blond, the other olive-skinned with dark hair. Each pointed a gun at the windshield.

What had to be the time machine sat several yards in front of them, parked in the middle of Main Street. No other traffic sat at the four-way stop, the road dark in all directions. They were in this alone.

Cass didn’t move a muscle. “Gun it, Rachel.”

“Betsy doesn’t gun it. She chugs.” Her hands held the wheel in a tight-knuckled grip.

“Get out of the truck,” the blond said.

Dammit. She had to keep them distracted until Aidan and Tristan showed up.

“Know self-defense, Rachel?”

“Nope.”

Shit
. She had to teach her sister a few things when they got back.

Unbuttoning the top few buttons of her blouse, she sighed. “It’s time to show some cleavage, Sis.”

Rachel gave a short nod. “Got it.”

Putting the truck in park, Rachel pulled down the collar of her scoop-necked tee to reveal the edge of her leopard-print bra.

“Let’s go. I’ll do the talking.”