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Authors: L. R. Nicolello

BOOK: Dead No More
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“What’s up?” Derek pressed, all grogginess gone.

Lily hesitated. What if she was wrong? What if...

She stopped.
Screw what-if.
If she didn’t say anything and those locations were attacked, she’d never forgive herself.

She’d already questioned her instinct once, before Jackson had ultimately betrayed her. She’d played the what-if game and lost everything.

Her love. Her job. Her confidence.

She sure as hell wasn’t about to do it again. Lily took a deep breath. “I stumbled across something that I think we need to discuss. And quickly. This isn’t just about a bidding war.”

“Talk to me.”

She sent the documents to the printer. “Can you meet me at Keystone in an hour?”

“I can come over now.”

“No. Call Ben. Let him know we’re coming over. I need an hour.” She hung up, tapped her foot as the printer spit out paper and prayed she was wrong.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Wednesday, September 24, 5:00 a.m.

L
ILY
HAD
CIRCLED
dates and names before sprinting over to Keystone. Papers lay scattered across the long coffee bar. Derek and Ben hovered over the pages. Quiet.

She paced as she spoke. “It’s complicated, and quite frankly, my brain is still trying to work out the truth from the lies. I stumbled across something called Dům Hrůzy—”

Derek sank into a chair, rubbing his neck and looking ill at ease. “I know.”

“Rowland is at the helm, isn’t he?” Lily didn’t need to ask—Derek’s reaction confirmed it. But if he already knew, why hadn’t he read her in?

Derek ran his hands over his face, then glanced up at Lily, suddenly looking very tired. “Yes, he leads it.”

“When were you going to share that vital piece of information with the class, Derek? Better yet, if you knew that Rowland leads Dům Hrůzy, then why the hell was he allowed to strut across ARME’s threshold?”

“We didn’t know.” Derek pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long sigh. “We only just figured that out.”

“Okay, you two.” Ben glanced between Lily and Derek. “I’m not following. What the fuck is Dům Hrůzy?”

“Dům Hrůzy is a world-domination terrorism ring.” Derek pointed at Lily. “Yours truly stumbled across a file documenting all its past members and international movements that Langley didn’t even know existed. Until yesterday. Until
she
triggered it with her little hacking escapade inside ARME’s system.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me at all?” Ben chuckled and threw Lily an impressed grin.

Lily closed her eyes and took a deep breath. So Rowland James was the head of Dům Hrůzy. Fantastic. That just made the rest of the intel she’d stumbled across that much shittier.

“There’s more.”

“Of course there is,” Derek muttered.

“There’s a time line and a formula.” Both men snapped to attention as she reached for the map and laid it flat. Weighing down the edges, she continued. “The time line has two dates on it—both within the next three weeks—that are three days apart, and I believe the numbers are coordinates for these cities.”

She stepped back to let both men examine the map for themselves, to wrap their heads around the situation, because hers was still reeling. Side by side, they leaned over the map, studied it. Ben’s favorite navy cable-knit sweater pulled across his strong back, Derek’s go-to black T-shirt hugged his shoulders and, despite the hurricane in her brain, Lily couldn’t help but smile.

There was always a silver lining within even the darkest of clouds, always—the sheer presence of both these men proved that, didn’t it?

“Most of those cities hold a Federal Reserve bank,” Ben mumbled, running his fingers over the worn map. He stopped and looked up, his face ashen. “The other six cities are part of our doomsday plan.”

“That’s not possible.” Derek straightened, ran his hands over his face. “Those sites are impenetrable.”

From her perch against the counter, she nodded, spoke slowly. “From the outside, yes, but not from within.”

“What are you saying?” Derek looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “That Rowland has plants within every nuclear bunker our government has set up?”

“I heard Rowland say that he’d strategically positioned his key people, that he was the puppet master, and when the time came, he’d pull the strings.” Derek paced the kitchen like an African lion caged within a zoo enclosure, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, lost in thought. Lily watched him closely as she continued. “If that’s truly the case, and those coordinates are accurate and what we think they are, then, yes, he could already have people set in place within each of those bunkers.”

“Son of a—” Derek stopped midsentence, frowned. “What do you mean, you
heard
? How? Where?”

She hopped onto the countertop and crossed her legs, her right foot tapping the air. “I may or may not have broken into his home office and installed two cameras. I overheard a phone call tonight—that’s when I learned about his involvement in Dům Hrůzy.”

The smiling faces of his wife and child flashed in Lily’s mind’s eye again, and her heart ached. That wasn’t the only thing she’d learned.

“It pisses me off that you went in alone.” Derek stared at her for a long moment, his face hard. She resisted the urge to squirm. She’d done the right, the only thing...

But then his eyes softened, and he grinned. “But damn, woman, you’re incredible.”

That smile, those dimples. They lit Lily up from the inside out. She wished she could turn back time, that they’d had last night to themselves before this proverbial shit hit the fan. But she’d taken a rain check.

Stupid, stupid woman.

Ben cleared his throat, glanced between them. “Mind if we get back to the business at hand?”

Lily threw Ben a cheeky grin, then nodded. “Sorry. Okay, according to these documents on Dům Hrůzy—” she jumped down from her perch and pointed to the printouts scattered across the large table “—Rowland’s taken out all his competitors, presumed or otherwise. Why should we expect anything less now?”

Ben took a sip of his coffee, put down his mug. “Who’s his direct competition?”

“John Elsworth,” Lily and Derek answered in unison.

“Which brings me to the next part of this convoluted puzzle...I don’t think there’s a bidding war happening for ARME’s WMD.”

“Lily.” Derek’s brows arched. “My guys vetted that—”

“Yes, but nothing else.” She threw herself into the chair across from Derek, leaning forward. “Doesn’t that strike you as strange? No chatter? No movement? If something as huge as an undetectable nuclear bomb had hit the black market, it would have sent all the who’s who of terrorism scrambling to get their hands on it.”

“She’s right,” Ben said, his face hard.

Derek sighed and tipped his chair back on its hind legs. “Go on.”

“I think it’s to keep your guys busy, and to set the stage for John Elsworth to take the fall when the attacks happen.”

“So you think Rowland’s placed his people to set off these WMDs?” Ben asked, setting down the pictures Lily had printed. “First the economy, then all our top governmental officials... It would cripple us.”

Derek let his chair fall back on all fours. “I see where you’re going, but why the charade?”

“Where is the first place we always look when there’s an internal leak of this magnitude?” Lily tapped a photo. “The head honcho. John Elsworth. I believe Rowland leaked this information and set up this whole game so he could pin the attacks on John. John goes down, Rowland steps into ARME’s helm.”

Pushing back from the table, Ben walked to the coffeepot and poured another cup. “He’d swoop in, play savior, help the government back to their feet after the attack, help them regroup, with him conveniently leading the charge. He’d be unstoppable.”

“Yes, he would, expect for one thing.” She pursed her lips and glanced between the two men. “And this is where it gets bizarre—the formula for the bomb’s chemical compound is incomplete.”

Derek’s jaw twitched. “You know how much I respect you, so don’t shoot the messenger here, but I have to call bullshit. How could you possibly know that?”

Lily resisted the urge to smile. If the tables were turned, she would have called bullshit, too. “I once worked with a Russian nuclear physicist who’d defected.”

“Of course you did. Another case
not
in your file. I’m beginning to question why they even bothered with a file in the first place,” Derek grumbled.

“I didn’t have a choice but to learn his language—both literally, and figuratively—in order to complete the...transaction. I’d still want to get an expert in on this, but from what I can decipher here, this formula won’t work. Someone’s trying to set Rowland up.”

Ben walked back and handed Lily a mug of coffee, then sat and studied the files in front of him. “Sabotage a sociopath? Sounds dangerous.”

She took a sip of the steaming liquid. “I did some digging and, besides stumbling across the fact that Gina’s family—not John’s—started ARME, I also discovered that Gina has her PhD in nuclear chemistry.”

Derek’s expression darkened. “You’re kidding me.”

“She graduated at the top of her class at Harvard before dear ol’ Daddy married her off.”

“Of course,” Derek said, shaking his head.

“I know you think she’s nothing more than a simple trophy wife.” Lily shrugged. “And maybe she is. Maybe I’m wrong. But if I’m not, then this ‘trophy wife’ also happens to be a brilliant chemist, who I think is secretly working for ARME’s labs. COO or not, I don’t think the Elsworths trust Rowland with their most valuable weapon. An incomplete formula ensures its safety, and Gina is the perfect cover—give the least suspecting person the greatest asset you own.”

Derek ran his hands over his face. The soft rustle of skin and stubble made her heart kick. He looked up and caught her with his irresistible sapphire eyes. “I don’t know. I can’t imagine it. But maybe.”

“‘Maybe’ is not exactly what I’d hoped to hear,” Ben said drily. “According to that time line, we have less than two weeks to figure this out, and we’re running around with a lot of assumptions.”

Lily understood Ben’s concern. She shared it. But wasn’t that what they only ever had—assumptions? The black-ops game was the biggest game of craps in the history of mankind.

Roll the dice. Hope you get lucky.

Lily shrugged. “It’s all we have at this point.”

Chugging the last of his coffee, Ben set the mug on the counter. “So, what’s next?”

“Get back into Rowland’s house,” Lily answered at the same time as Derek said, “Get Lily close to Gina.”

“I need to get back into Rowland’s house.” Lily kept talking, didn’t give either of the men a second to interrupt her. “I need to reposition one of the cameras and go through his files. I didn’t have time last time. I need to get into his house.”

“No,” the two men replied in stereo.

Lily sank into her chair. What the hell was with the double-teaming? She’d known her idea would get pushback. But really? From both of them?

“You’ve already played Russian roulette with him once.” Derek glared at her. “Let’s go with something other than messing with a psychotic sociopath on his stomping ground, okay?” A slow smirk spread across Derek’s lips. Lily crossed her leg and bounced her foot. What was he up to now? “If Gina is the missing link, we get you close to her.”

Lily swallowed a groan. There was a reason she so easily fit into the male-dominated world of black ops. She hated all the drama and gossip most women thrived on, and she avoided interaction with her own gender at all cost. She didn’t have any girlfriends growing up. Didn’t have any now.

Which suited her just fine.

“I like,” Ben said, nodding.

Lily threw him a look.
Traitor
. She was outnumbered, and she knew it. “Fine. Rowland invited me to this party on Friday—”

Derek frowned. “You didn’t tell me about that.”

“Yeah, well, we’ve all been a little preoccupied.”

He rolled his eyes. “That we have.” Looking off into space, he sat quiet, thinking, then grinned. “Yes, the party is the perfect place. Gina will most
definitely
be there.”

“I doubt Gina’s going to be buddy-buddy with me.”

Derek laughed. “If you can lasso Rowland, you can rope in Gina. It’ll be a piece of cake.”

Somehow Lily doubted that.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Wednesday, September 24, 7:00 p.m.

T
HE
ELEVATOR
DOOR
OPENED
and Lily stepped out. Glancing up, George frowned, his large forehead crinkled. “Going for a run
now
?”

“Yep.”

After leaving Keystone, she’d locked herself away and pored over the files. Twelve hours later, she’d gotten nowhere fast. The strain on her eyes had triggered a killer headache, and her muscles screamed for a release. Lily needed a break, something to get her mind off the chaos lying in front of her.

“Where’s Dakota? Should you be going by yourself?”

“Dakota is racked out, and I’m not going alone.” She pulled the .32 from the small of her back and grinned. “I have company that’s much more effective.”

“Lil—”

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed George on the cheek. “Relax. I’m not ten anymore. I won’t be gone long.”

George grumbled, pulled the door open and stepped aside.

“I’ll be fine. I just need to clear my head.”

Nothing was what it seemed. She was sure of it. The question now was what the hell was she going to do about it. The once-simple mission of “get close to Rowland” had spiraled into a web of shadows and deception.

Lily lengthened her stride, the cold air rushing her lungs. Despite the grueling hours of research, the intricacy of the mission thrilled her. She was fully engaged, alive.

The urgency to find Jackson faded as the case consumed her more and more. She’d circle around to him. Eventually. She needed to shut that chapter of her life for good and put it behind her, but Jackson would have to wait until she’d nailed Rowland.

She ran, her mind tumbling over itself.

The hair on her neck prickled, signaling impending danger. In the sandbox, her team always kept one wary eye on her and her strange sixth sense. If Lily hit the ground, they followed. No questions asked. It had saved them more times than Lily cared to remember.

And that same sensation now screamed at her in warning.

Lily slowed and glanced over her shoulder. The running path lay empty, desolate. She didn’t buy the lonely scene. Someone was following her
.

Lily paused her music but kept her earbuds in, not wanting to warn whoever lurked in the dark. She ran on, senses fully alert.

Slowing her breath, she focused on the noises around her. She filtered out the rush of the river and...
there
! Whoever was behind wasn’t in sync with her footsteps. The crunching of gravel under her stalker’s feet gave that away.

She stopped and squatted to tie her shoe. Glancing over her shoulder, she spied the outline of a figure in the distance. Irritation ripped through her. She didn’t have the energy to deal with some mugger tonight. She sighed, stood and looked toward the figure.

I see you
.

She reached behind her and flipped off the safety of her gun, wanting to be ready.

Heading off the trail, Lily made her way downtown, toward people. The stockyards would be hopping tonight. Safety in numbers.
It also meant that whoever followed her could disappear.

It was a gamble she was willing to take.

She slowed and walked down Allen Street—careful not to turn her ankle on the uneven bricks that lined the street—made a left and stopped in front of a hair salon. She glanced through the window and into a stylist’s beveled mirror. The angle gave her the perfect view behind her.

She spotted him, but couldn’t make out his face. A baseball cap pulled low obstructed her view. Lily moved further into the crowd and picked up her pace.

So did her shadow.

Dodging between two massive men, she turned right onto Woodbridge. Lily ducked in between two buildings, flattened herself against the brick wall and waited. Her pursuer stopped short and searched the area.

Lily pressed herself further into the dark. She caught his profile for a moment—strong jawline, Roman nose, white scar on the edge of his mouth.

Jackson?

The world fell out from under her. She struggled to breathe. He walked past, and her mind refused to process the signals her eyes sent. No way in hell he was here—in her city, of all places. It couldn’t be that simple, could it?

Only one way to find out.

She stepped out from the shadows and fell in behind him.

He pulled out a cell, spoke into it, then shoved it into his back pocket. She studied the man in front of her. His gait. The way he hunched his shoulders and thrust his hands deep into his pockets.

Her blood hammered in her ears. Her hands fisted, fingers digging into the flesh of her palms.
Son of a bitch.
There was no mistake. Lily could pick out her ex-fiancé anywhere.

She slowed her pace, lengthening the gap between them, but kept Jackson locked in her sights. Her mind spun. What the hell was he doing here? In her city? That couldn’t be a coincidence...could it?

No. She didn’t believe in coincidences. If her old life had taught her anything, it was that nothing happened by chance. Nothing. That bastard was in her city. She’d never once mentioned Omaha to him. Why was he here?

He turned right, hugged the building facades and peered into the stores doubling as fishbowls.

He has no idea I’m behind him.
I’ve got you now
.
Two can play at this game
. The thrill of the hunt surged through her veins. She’d forgotten just how much she loved this, lived for this.

She was the huntress. He was her prey.

Should she engage? She could. She was armed.

He took a quick left and disappeared.

Lily sidestepped an older couple who were ambling slower than molasses and followed Jackson into the dark alley. Her senses jumped to DEFCON 1. She slammed to a halt, reached for her gun and pressed herself close to the bricks.
Shit.

Her brain registered movement to her left. She pivoted and raised her gun.

“Jackson.”

He mimicked her response and trained his gun on her chest. The last time she’d been in this situation, the man staring her down had tried to kill her. Lily glanced at his weapon and her heart stopped. It was the same gun he’d used to shoot her. With difficulty, she pulled her eyes away from the Glock.
Focus, Lil.

“Everyone at 67 thinks you’re dead. Imagine their surprise when I tell them you’re here. In my city.”

Jackson shrugged. “Guess I’m dead no more. Am I, Lily girl?”

The once-intimate nickname rolled off his tongue and made Lily’s skin crawl. How she had ever loved this man was beyond her. She suppressed a shudder. “Don’t call me that. Why are you here?”

“Why do you care?” Jackson tilted his head and studied her. “Miss me?”

A familiar, all-consuming ache reared up and held her heart in a vice. A mixture of rage and bone-aching grief swirled in her brain. Pushing against the inexplicable emotions, she glared at the man she’d once loved.

“Not even for a second.”

“Why are you following me?”

“I could ask you the same question.” She glared at him, put pressure on the trigger of her .32.

He cocked his gun. His face hardened. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Lil.”

The familiar standoff chilled Lily to her bones.

He laughed, though there was nothing light about the sound bouncing off the alleyway. It was dark, and menacing. “I see you’re as feisty as ever. Answer my question. Why are you following me?”

“I wanted to see who was following
me
on the trail. Imagine my surprise when it turned out to be my ex-lover. You know, the partner who betrayed me.”

Her emotions spun out of control. In one breath, she wanted to reach up and snap his neck, and yet, a strange pang in her chest threatened to undermine the past thirteen months of black hatred.

The muscles in his jaw twitched. Lily frowned. She’d known him long enough to know his tells—and
that
was one of them. “Why are you upset, Jackson?”

“You didn’t see me,” Jackson said, his tone cold as steel. “As far as you’re concerned, I’m a ghost. Leave now, and don’t try to find me. Ever.”

She shook her head. “You know I can’t do that.”

“Why are you always trying to play the fucking hero, Lily? Just for once, can you let a dead cat lie?”

“Sorry, Jackson.” She increased the pressure on her trigger finger.

“So am I.” In a single, fluid motion, his boot connected with her arm.

Her gun went flying, and she lost her balance. Lily scrambled to regain her footing and backed up until her shoulders hit the brick wall. He’d hemmed her in, outmaneuvered her. He pressed the muzzle of his gun between her breasts.

She didn’t move, barely breathed.

“Which has always been your Achilles’ heel, hasn’t it, Lily?” He shook his head, pushed the hard metal deeper into her soft flesh. She resisted the urge to flinch. He leaned his face close to hers. “Why do you always have to be the hero?”

“At least I’m not a traitor.”

Jackson pulled back as if she’d struck him. His jaw twitched. Again.
What the hell was wrong with him?
Just as quickly, the flicker of humanity disappeared.

Grabbing the front of her throat, he jammed his thumb into the carotid artery on one side of her neck and pressed his ring finger into the other. Lily clawed at his hands and fought. She had ten seconds, tops. Her head grew light, drifting, as she pushed against the advancing darkness she knew was coming for her.

Jackson tightened his grip, leaned close. “I’m a ghost.”

Her vision tunneled and went black.

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