Defenseless (11 page)

Mark brought a bunch of stuff. It’s all small and can be compacted, but it’s still a lot. I’m not used to having so much tech stuff on assignment. Usually, I’d have Mandi run the intel I needed, and then she’d relay what she found so I could stay off the grid as much as possible. This will be my first time working without her.

“This location is where they should’ve ended up. That’s why I’m here. Maybe they went silent for a reason. They could’ve realized they were being tracked or targeted and decided to cut off communication. I’ve done it before.”

“What’s the company protocol?”

He looks at me with a grin. “None of us dictate protocol to our field guys. They’re all highly trained and able to make decisions on their own. I’m not here to babysit. I’m here to support them with the best equipment and training possible.”

I take a seat on the edge of the bed. “Okay, so basically they have carte blanche?”

“No, they have permission to do what’s necessary to carry out the mission. One thing both Jackson and I hated about the Navy was worrying about politics. These guys know what to do. They’re keen, loyal, and can decide right from wrong. Jackson set parameters and these guys respect that. They wouldn’t break that code because they respect him.”

I raise my hands in surrender. “I’m not accusing.”

Mark sits next to me with a reassuring smile. “I know. I just get a little defensive about my men.”

“Understandable. I feel the same about my work.”

He nods. “Yeah, tell me about the mission where you found Aaron.” His request somehow seems like a demand.

I’m not accustomed to speaking freely. While I’ve debriefed the agency on everything, Mark doesn’t hold the clearance for all of this—at least I don’t think he does. However, there’s a part of me that doesn’t care about that. The agency took that from me when they gave the case to Vanessa. They took away years of my life. So I decide to give a tiny bit and go over the info I’m sure Aaron has already disclosed to him.

“I was on assignment to gather information about a terrorist who is dealing arms. I was very deep and in that camp for a long time gaining their trust. I’m very persuasive.”

He laughs. “I’m sure of that. I don’t know many men who would look at your dark hair and blue eyes and tell you no.”

I smirk. “I don’t know any either.”

“Now who’s cocky?”

“Anyway,” I continue with my story. “I’m sure this part won’t make you happy, but I was there for a while before I could relay that Aaron was alive.” I wait for his disapproval.

“I knew this. I don’t like it because he’s my friend and his wife suffered greatly because we thought he was dead, but I get it. The mission comes first. Sometimes in life, especially our line of work, others suffer for the choices we make.” Mark grabs a protein bar, opens it, and bites into it as if he couldn’t care less.

It’s so confusing to me. I would slit someone’s throat if they kept my brother from me for a year. Yeah, I offered Aaron what little protection I could, but I couldn’t destroy all the work I’d done. He suffered because I had to keep my mouth shut. Sometimes I could hear the screams from his beatings, and it was horrible. I knew he had a wife and child, yet I pretended. Those were the parts of my job that sometimes kept me awake at night.

“It’s not something I took lightly.”

Mark’s green eyes deepen as he shifts forward. “Did you and Aaron get a chance to really talk?”

“Here and there. We were monitored, so I had to be careful. He told me about Natalie and their baby. He wondered if she was okay, what the baby looked like, if anyone knew he was alive. I couldn’t give him too much information because I wasn’t willing to put the assignment at risk. It was the first time I ever truly hated my job,” I admit frankly. Mark sits in rapt attention as I offer a little of my truth to him. “Aaron told me, though, at the end of all of this, he wanted those to suffer for what they were doing. He knew he would get us both killed if he did anything. So he shut his mouth, took it like a man, and hoped I would be able to keep my promise.”

Sometime during my speech, Mark covers my hand with his. I could pull back from him, but his touch comforts me. “What information did you give him?”

“I told him . . .” I feel a pang of guilt and stop. It was the first time I ever wished to blow my cover. Aaron was broken. He confessed his life to me not knowing I was a CIA operative. I was so deep into being Fahima that I forgot who I really was. Aaron snapped me out of that.

“Charlie?”

“I told him lies, Mark. I didn’t tell him who I was until about two months before I contacted my handler. Then I lied and told him I had my team working on extracting him. I lied because I’m a liar. I’m a liar who cared more about myself than him or his family.”

Mark pulls me close. I don’t know how the bastard knew it was something I needed, but he did. I sink into his embrace. I blame the drugs even though they’re no longer in my system.

“You got him home.”

I huff. “What did he go home to? We still talk, you know?”

“He told me.” Mark keeps me against his side.

“I know his wife married his best friend. They now have a kid. It’s kinda wrong, no?”

Mark releases me. His eyes study mine before he speaks. “Natalie made her choices based on the information she had. If he told you anything, he wasn’t exactly a model husband. Liam is a good guy, and he loves her. He stepped in and raised Aarabelle when Aaron couldn’t. And when Natalie’s world fell apart, he never left her side. I don’t agree with the choices Aaron made, but it’s not my place to judge him.”

I nod and mull over what he said. I know all about Aaron’s piss-poor decisions. As a woman—and his only friend at that time—I let him know how I felt about it, too. “I think he more than paid for his sins.”

“Maybe.” Mark pauses. “I think Aaron had PTSD, but no one was willing to see it. He was injured in the mission when we lost our friends. We all fucked up by ignoring it.”

I know how he feels. I’ve been there. At least Mark wasn’t too late.

“I know an operative who killed herself after her intel got in the wrong hands. She was so broken over it, but none of us knew what to say. We all just kind of swept it under the rug. She talked to me about it once.” I pause as I remember the look in her eyes. “She told me how she thought she was being watched but didn’t trust herself anymore. I’ll never forget the way she begged me with her eyes to reassure her. I laughed her off, thinking she was crazy. When they found her, I knew it was because the paranoia was too much.”

Mark’s hand grips mine. “It’s not an easy life we live.”

“No, it’s definitely not. A lot can’t handle the guilt that comes along with things we all do.”

“Taking a life isn’t something most are okay with,” he admits. “Is it wrong that it doesn’t haunt me?”

My hand squeezes his. “I don’t think so. It’s kill or be killed in our circumstances. I’ve never set out to take a life that wasn’t trying to take mine, have you?”

“Fuck no. I was protecting my own life or the lives of my guys.”

“Exactly. We’re not monsters, Mark.”

“No,” he says hesitantly. “But we’re not saints, either. I sometimes wonder what I’ll answer to when I go. Will I be viewed the same as someone who murders people?”

I understand his question, but I never delved that deep into it. I’m not walking around picking people off. “I really think it’s different.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

We both pause, giving ourselves a minute to mull over what was said. I’ve never had problems killing someone. I know that doesn’t make me the typical woman. I’ll do what I have to do in order to get home safe. It’s the way the job is. Of course, I’d bet my body count is way lower than his.

Mark stands and walks toward the window. “Can I ask you something?”

“Does my answer really matter?”

He laughs, “No. Probably not.”

“Then ask.”

“Are you happy?”

I look at him with my mouth slightly agape. “What does that mean?”

“Exactly what I asked.”

“I’m doing just fine.”

“So that’s a no.”

“No, that’s a . . . I don’t have to answer your questions.”

“Defensive much?”

“Invasive much?” I retort.

Mark chuckles, pulling the curtain closed. “I thought so. You and I are the same, Charlie. We both have jobs that force us to be strong. We face death, corruption, and things others only imagine. We live alone.”

“I have Dominic and my mother. I’m just fine.”

He nods but doesn’t appear to believe me. “Like I said, we’re the same. We both have used our careers to mask any loneliness.” He heads into the bathroom, and I think over our bizarre conversation.

Am I happy? I don’t know. Is anyone ever really happy? We’re selfish creatures. We always want more, bigger, better, and then when we get it . . . we want again. I wanted to be in the CIA. When I finally got in, I wanted to be an operative. When I finally moved up enough to be placed on assignment, I wanted the most dangerous one. It was never enough.

He exits wearing a distracted expression.

I wait for a minute before I finally crack. “What is it?”

“Tomorrow we’ll do a sightseeing tour. My asset will be in touch then.”

“How did he know how to get in touch?”

“You have your secrets, Charlie, I have mine. I’m not about to divulge everything.”

Such a bastard. Just when I start to like him, he goes and says something that reminds me why I need to keep my distance.

“Here I thought we were finally becoming partners.” I shrug. “But I guess I was wrong. You don’t have to be such a jerk.”

Mark shakes his head and lets out a groan. “Un-fucking-real.”

“I need to do a little recon tomorrow before we search the area. I also don’t think we should stay here too long. Mazir isn’t in Egypt, and he’s where the target is. I’ll share my plans, since you insist on being an asshole.”

Mark steps so close I have to look up. He leans forward so our noses nearly touch. “I have to be an asshole to you. If I don’t keep pushing you away, I’m going to end up pushing myself on you. I could be your partner, but you’re hell bent on reminding me that’ll never happen.” I gasp. “So know this, when I’m an asshole or a dick to you . . . it’s so I don’t rip your clothes off and fuck you until neither of us can walk. It’s because you make my blood boil to the point I’m going to lose it. And I never lose it.” He keeps his face this close for a beat before he turns his back on me.

I sit there completely stunned. I could lie and say there isn’t a part of me hoping for option one. That my stomach isn’t clenched at the idea of Mark and I going at it, but that shouldn’t happen. It’s dangerous and completely reckless. We have a job to do, and I’ve already screwed up this mission once.

He returns to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. I think there’s something more behind his words, but I don’t know him well enough to truly tell. So instead, I sit and plot our next move, study the map, and wish my father were here. He’d know what to do. He’d have a clear plan that would enable us to get in and out without any issues.

I miss him.

He was my sounding board when things got tough. He’s the reason I’m the agent I am.

Someone set him up to die.

Someone knew he had that file.

Someone made sure it was never leaked.

Now I pray that same someone doesn’t know I have a copy of it.

I
flop back on the bed feeling exhausted and frustrated. Not having Mandi feeding me small bits of information is different. It’s like flying blind. On the other hand, I have a real-life handler of sorts in the form of a six-foot-one man-child. This was supposed to be easier with Mark not harder.

With my eyes closed, I think back to the mission in Afghanistan. It was by far my hardest assignment. It helps that I have naturally olive skin, almost black hair, and an exotic look. It allows me to blend in almost any region of the world. I can play up my attributes depending on the assignment. My father used to joke that I was the ultimate chameleon. It’s more than looking the part; it’s knowing the job. I don’t always have to look the part, but I need to play the part.

“I can not help you once you are in the compound,” my asset reminds me again. He’s worried about leading me into a situation I can’t handle. It’s almost cute. However, at this point there’s no turning back. I have strict orders to get any information on whom Mazir is working with and his location. Losing someone isn’t a situation the agency takes lightly. I need to reassure him and then move forward.

“Just remember the story, Khalil. It will be fine.”

He sighs and looks down. “I don’t like this. I’m putting my family in grave danger. If you are caught, it will not go well.”

My hand rests on his arm. “No one will find out. Not if we stick to the story.” I pause and wait for him to acknowledge. We’ve spent months fabricating the details to align. He nods in agreement.

My cover is uncomplicated. “I’m your niece who’s been studying in Europe. I’m home because I couldn’t stand to be away any longer, but that left me as a burden since my parents have died. You get them to take me in to pay off the debts I owe, and I’ll get what I need before anything can happen to your family.”