Angel on Fire (3 page)

“Oh.  You don’t know?”

“No.”  Angela’s voice remained calm despite the nerves fluttering inside her.

“Crap, I’ll call you back.”  Once again, the line disconnected.  Angela made a face at the phone.  With a sigh, she closed her eyes again and waited.  Ten minutes crawled by before the phone rang again.

“Sorry, I had to get out of the office.  Look, I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but two agents showed up this morning and cornered Michael.  They ordered him to keep you out of the office for at least two weeks.  He complained - quite strongly in fact - but they insisted you weren’t allowed to return to work.”  Cass prattled on, and Angela could picture her chewing on a strand of her hair as she always did when she was nervous.  “Look, you’re not supposed to know any of this.  The guys who showed up were adamant that you weren’t allowed to know you were being investigated.  I only overheard because I was sorting documents in that little cubicle outside Michael’s office.  I don’t think they realized I was there.”

“Investigating?  Why would they be investigating me?”

“I caught something about national security, but that’s all I know.”

“National security?
  I swear I don’t know….”  Angela’s voice quivered, and her stomach lurched.  Her job was all she had left now that her dad was gone. 

“Look, I have to get back to the office.  I said I was going for coffee.  I’ve got no idea
whats
’ going on, but it sure looks like someone is gunning for you.  Be careful.” 

Angela’s stomach churned as she hung up the phone and she dropped her head to her knees.  Tears of anger and frustration welled up in her eyes.  She lay down on the couch, her arms covering her face while her mind raced.  Why would the FBI investigate her?  And, if they thought she had done something wrong, why wouldn’t they bring her in for questioning?

Angela jumped to her feet and tossed the phone the table.  With a grimace, she marched to the stairs to get ready for the day.  It was a hell of a start.  She could only hope it improved. 

Two Days
Before
the Funeral

Chase Romero poked his head into Zach Walker’s office.  “You wanted to see me, Boss?” 

Zach nodded without looking up and Chase dropped into the chair across from the gray metal desk.  “Listen to this.”  The head of the Special Services Unit punched a few button and the phone announced that he had a saved voicemail.  A minute later, Chase heard a male voice leaving a message.  Heavy background noise drowned out the speaker’s voice and over an intermittent crackling sound, Chase thought he heard the words Angela, help and key. 
“Who?”
Chase asked, closing his eyes and trying to isolate the background noises as Zach replayed the message. 

“My buddy Mac.
  We served together years ago” 

“And who’s Angela? 
His wife?”
  Chase asked the logical follow up question even though he didn’t expect a response.  Zach didn’t talk about his friends or family.  Hell, as far as Chase knew, Zach didn’t have a personal life. 

“No. 
His daughter.
 
My goddaughter.”
  Zach pushed his chair back from the desk, stood and paced across the small room.  Most men in his position would have insisted upon a grandiose office with a view, but Zach demanded that the Special Services Unit be housed in a dark corner of the basement in an older government building.  Down here, Zach and his men were largely ignored and left to their own devices, which was just the way they preferred things.   

“And?”
Chase prompted after a prolonged silence.  Zach continued to pace while Chase mulled over his boss’s unusual behavior.  The fact that calm, unflappable Zach appeared ruffled placed Chase on high alert.

“Mac left that message yesterday morning.  I was in meetings all day as you know.  Damn budget cuts.”  Zach ran his fingers through his short graying hair.  “He died yesterday afternoon.  I need you to go to Manchester, Massachusetts and keep an eye on Angela.” 

Chase narrowed his eyes.  “I’m on vacation as of 1700 hours, remember?”

“I know.”  Zach spun to face Chase, his gray eyes worried.  “I’m asking you to do this as a favor, Chase.  Mac and I decided long ago to keep our distance from each other for Angela’s sake.  Something had to be wrong for him to call and mention her.”

“I’m going to stand out like a sore thumb.  She doesn’t know me.  Isn’t there someone else? 
A friend of the family?
 
Another old military colleague?”
  Zach shook his head and Chase grumbled under his breath.  He was long overdue for a vacation.  “So, how did he die?” 

“They’re saying it was a heart attack.” 

Chase frowned.  “You want me to go watch over this Angela because her dad died from a heart attack?” 

“No.”  Zach sighed and leaned back in his chair. 

Chase couldn’t remember hearing Zach sigh.  
Ever.
 
“Then?”
 

“Maybe it wasn’t a simple heart attack.  You and I
are
both familiar with several compounds that mimic heart attacks.”  His fierce gray eyes stared into Chase’s green ones. 

“Why don’t you go see Angela?  Surely, if you were friends with her dad, she’ll expect you at the funeral.  You’re the logical person to keep an eye on her.”  Chase stood, feeling confident that Zach would see how reasonable his proposal was, and waited to be dismissed. 

“The last time I had contact with Angela a terrorist group attempted to kidnap her.  That’s why I distanced myself from Mac.”  Zach looked pained by the admission and Chase hid his surprise.  The younger men referred to Zach as Robot Man behind his back because of his clinical and detached manner.  Zach was known to warn each new recruit that attachments of any kind, especially romantic ones, were not welcome in his organization.  Emotion had no place in the world of covert operations.    

 “Okay, but she’s not a kid anymore.  Surely, just showing up at a funeral wouldn’t endanger her.” 

“I’m not willing to take that risk,” Zach retorted, in his normal brisk tone.  “That’s why I want you to go in my place.  Just watch Angela from a distance.”  Zach paused.  He sighed and Chase frowned, recognizing that he wasn’t going to like whatever Zach had to tell him.  “She’s FBI though, so you’ll need to be careful.”

 “You want me to watch an FBI agent without her knowledge?” 

“She’s an analyst, not an agent.  She’s only had minimal field training.  Mac did teach her how to use a gun though, so I wouldn’t recommend cornering her in a dark alley.  What?  Lost your touch?  Think you can’t handle a woman?” 

Chase’s frown deepened at the smirk on Zach’s face. 
“Hardly.
  Just trying to figure out what your angle is here.”

“Just make sure no one hurts her.  If Mac actually had a heart attack, it should be an easy job, and I’ll approve an extra week of vacation,” Zach bargained.

“Two weeks.”

“One, Romero.
  It’s not like you have any real plans anyway.  You wouldn’t know what to do with three weeks off.”

“Fine,” Chase grumbled.  Zach was right.  His only plans involved a lake and a fishing pole.  He wouldn’t be able to handle three weeks of quiet inactivity.    

*****

The Day of the Funeral

Chase swiped at the rainwater dripping down his forehead as he watched Angela kneel before her father’s grave.  Contrary to his training, he closed his eyes, fighting the sympathy that welled up as the wind carried her sobs toward him. 
She’s a job, nothing more.
 He opened his eyes and scanned the immediate area for threats. 
Threats
… he laughed to himself.  As if anyone wanted to hurt the girl next door in small town America.  He found himself wondering if Zach was getting old and losing his edge. 
No, just overcautious
. 

From what Chase had gathered through gossip and eavesdropping, Mac had died from a heart attack outside a bar named Jackson’s in Boston.  Chase smiled.  He knew Jackson’s.  It was a hard core drinking kind of bar where the ladies, if you could call them that, knew the score - a single night of
lovin
’ with no names exchanged. 
Sounded like Mac at least had more of a life than Zach.
 

Chase followed at a distance as Angela walked to the car.  She started the car and drove home with Chase trailing several car lengths behind her.  He pulled his car into Mrs. Nicholson’s driveway and stepped inside the tiny, cramped house.  Mrs. Nicholson was on a two-week cruise, compliments of Holiday Winnings,
a
cover company Zach created years ago.  To Chase’s surprise, this plan had been in existence for more than ten years.  Zach apparently took his goddaughter’s safety seriously. 

Chase settled in front of the window, keeping one eye on the house across the street as he flipped through a magazine.  Lightning flashed in the distance and thunder followed.  He stepped away from his post to find a flashlight just as the power went out.  He searched the kitchen using the LED light from his key chain.  It took a while but he finally found an old green flashlight in the back of the pantry.  Humming under his breath, he ambled back over to the window just as the lights stuttered back on. 

He glanced at Angela’s house and froze.  The back door stood wide open. 
Shit! 
He leaned closer to the window, his eyes searching for Angela through the glass.  He released a small sigh as he caught sight of her on the floor in the kitchen.  His instincts urged him to race across the street and check her while his training ordered him to sit tight and scope out the situation. 

After pulling out his gun, he slipped out of the house and moved across the street under the cover of darkness.  As he approached the house, he noticed Angela stirring.  She grabbed the phone and, when he heard sirens in the distance a few minutes later, he faded into the shadows, returning to the house across the street. 

He watched from the darkened living room as the police and paramedics invaded the house.  As the lights flickered on in each room, Chase tried to catalog the damage.  By the time the police departed, Chase had come to the conclusion that Angela either interrupted a burglar or the intruder was searching rather than stealing.  Setting that thought aside for the moment, he reported in to Zach.  Five minutes later, he dropped into a chair near the window, relieved that the conversation ended without bloodshed - his blood of course.  Zach was known to hit ruthlessly first and ask questions later. 

Chase sighed and raked his fingers through his hair.  A mission in Bolivia or the Middle East was looking better and better.  At least there, he knew what to expect.  Here, he was working in the dark.  He frowned as he watched Angela move through the house, turning on all the lights.  Her actions didn’t surprise him.  Even a strong woman would be spooked after having her home vandalized. 

Chase smiled faintly at the picture Angela made.  Lying on the couch with her weapon within reach, she reminded him of a fiery angel ready for action.  Few women would have had the courage to remain alone, but Angela had kicked the well-meaning visitors out of her house.  Like her father, she appeared to have excellent instincts, plenty of courage, and an inner strength that most people lacked.  At first, Chase hadn’t realized who Mac was but after reviewing his file, Chase recognized Mac as a fierce and deadly warrior about whom elite soldiers still talked.  Some of Mac and Zach’s missions were legendary.