Exchange of Fire (22 page)

Sandra stared at the sandwich in her hands but couldn’t seem to raise it to her mouth. The processed turkey and ham slices between two slabs of white bread weren’t the problem, though they weren’t exactly the tastiest. She just wasn’t hungry. Nor did she feel rested.

All night long she had tossed and turned, her mind replaying every conversation, every angry word Grady had hurled at her since the minute Talon and Romeo broke into the cabin. Deep down in a small section she was embarrassed to admit existed, she blamed her teammates for ruining her budding relationship with Grady. Completely unfair, since it was her own actions and lies that brought her to this moment, but that part of her kept saying,
Yeah, but if they hadn’t shown up you could still be in Grady’s arms now.

“Jeez, woman, it’s almost two o’clock,” Romeo said, jerking her from her thoughts. “You’ve been staring at that thing for an hour.” He paused on the other side of the open counter. “Just eat it and put it out of its misery. You need to keep your strength up.”

Sandra lifted a shoulder and eyed the sandwich.

“It’s not about the culinary experience,” Romeo replied in a lower voice, patting her arm. “You can have that when this is all over with Grady . . . whatever you chose to dine on.” He waggled his eyebrows.

She tried to smile, but the fresh set of tears ruined the attempt. Not wanting to give in to another bout of weakness, she stared up at the ceiling, berating the bastards into submission.

“I know a lot has happened at once.” Romeo squeezed her forearm. “But the Wraith I used to know is still inside you. I’ve seen bits of her break through these past two days. You just lost your way, but I think you’ve found a reason to stop running, haven’t you?”

Grady’s crystal blues twinkled at her as he smiled wide. In the image the sun shone brightly, surrounding him until it looked like a halo. “Yeah. I have. Even though I blew all my chances with him.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

Sandra searched his light brown eyes. The utter conviction he showed her gave her a small measure of warmth.

Romeo let go of her and said, “Grady may be pissed, and with good reason, but he’s not a robot. I saw the way he was with you before Talon and I invaded the cabin.”

“What?” Sandra plunked the sandwich down. “You watched us”—she swallowed at the rush of memories of making love to Grady—“together?”

“Whoa.” Romeo held his hands up. “I’m not a voyeur . . . Okay, that’s a lie. I
am
a voyeur, but only when it’s consensual.”

Sandra hugged her body.

Romeo rounded the counter and placed his hands on her hunched shoulders. “What I mean is, I saw how he looked at you and how his body language screamed adoration.” His fingers gripped tighter. “He’s in love with you.”

She ducked her head. “Being in love with someone and being able to forgive them are two very different things.”

“True.” Romeo pulled her into one of his famous bear hugs. “But you have us to help you fight for it.”

She wrapped around him tightly and buried her wet cheek in his shoulder. She closed her eyes and inhaled. Everything from his favorite soap that Magician had thrown in their cart to that unique scent that made up Romeo felt like visiting a childhood home. She pulled back and probed his gentle eyes with her gaze. “I can’t say I’m sorry to you enough, Romeo.”

He shifted and opened his mouth, but she cut him off. “It never occurred to me that you’ve been living with the added grief that you may have helped me commit suicide.” She closed her eyes and tried to swallow back the lump. “I can’t imagine what that must have been like. I don’t think I can ever make that up to you.”

He lifted her chin, his expression a mixture of regret, pain, and something else she didn’t deserve. “Sure you can. Show us you’re going to stand at our sides in this fight. That you don’t expect us to do it for you.”

“I—”

“Show us the person we used to know,” he said over her attempt to protest that she wouldn’t run again. “Show us
Wraith
.”

A shiver rocked down her spine.

The front door opened, then slammed shut. “Christ, why is everyone suddenly jumping into other people’s embraces?”

Talon placed his hands on his hips, glaring at her. Tracks of rain dripped off of him, puddling on the small laminate section in front of the door.

She shot a quick look at Romeo and caught him rolling his eyes.

“What the hell is he talking about?” she murmured.

“God only knows with him,” he answered softly as he let go and rested his back against the counter. He then twisted and scraped her plate from behind him. “I’m not moving until you finish this.”

Talon stalked forward and dropped a set of keys onto the granite. “Thanks for lending me the truck.”

Sandra peered out at the wall of rain pounding the ground. “You pull your bike into the garage?”

“Yeah, this morning before I left on my babysitting quest.” Talon slicked his drenched hair back and ripped the refrigerator door open. Man, he looked really rough around the edges.

“Aren’t you still scheduled for a few more hours?” Romeo asked, picking her plate up and thrusting it into her hands.

“Good question,” Cappy boomed, striding from the hall, skirting the fireplace partition, and stopping at the edge of the kitchen with Magician on his heels. “Why am I seeing your face?”

Between her talk with Romeo and watching someone else besides her on the hot seat, her appetite returned enough for her to stomach eating the sandwich.

“Marine Man and I needed a break from each other.” He slammed the door and popped open a soda.

“What did you do?” Cappy asked, crossing his arms. “You were only supposed to surveil him, not interact.”

He slurped the contents loudly. “He needed interacting.”

“Something happen?” Magician stepped forward and leaned against a spot near Romeo. “Mars show up?”

“Why didn’t you call us?” Cappy demanded, his face reddening.

Talon waved a hand and finished the soda. “Chill out. It was nothing like that.”

Cappy cocked his head and peered intently at his teammate. He then dipped his chin and said, “Ah.”

Sandra put her empty plate down, the sandwich now acting like a rock in her stomach. Why did Cappy suddenly appear like he understood what had happened?

“Did I miss something?” she asked, pinging her gaze to everyone in the room. “What happened? What does ‘ah’ mean?”

“Nothing,” Talon answered, the edge in his voice warning her to drop it.

“Magician and I can take over if you want,” Romeo offered. “We can get his location from the device still attached to the SUV.”

“Probably best,” Cappy said, then clapped his hands. “But first, Talon, have you heard from Ted lately?”

“Just a quick text stating he’s traveling the East Coast.”

“Excellent.” Cappy rubbed his hands. “Since we can’t take the fight to Victor, I think it’s time we shake him up a little.”

Dread curled in Sandra’s gut. The adage about not poking the crazy definitely applied to Victor.

“Everybody but Romeo and Magician load up in the Jeep,” Cappy ordered, then pointed at the excluded two. “You two follow us to the mall in the truck, then head to Grady’s position after we’re done.”

“The mall?” Sandra asked, already figuring out the answer.

“Yeah, in case Victor has the same tracking software in his hidey-hole that Mars had,” Cappy answered, marching toward the front door.

Victor stared at his monitor. A satellite map of Ridge Creek, North Carolina, filled his screen. How could a nothing little town in the mountains be such a pain in the ass?

The landline on the corner of his desk rang, and Alan Bostridge’s name scrolled across the caller ID.

“Bite me, Alan.”

He ignored the call. No way did he feel like tussling with that peacock now. The interview with CNN had turned out great. They did a great job converting the video interview into an interactive version so it looked like the reporter was in the same room. Sound bites had been airing on the news networks ever since. That should buy him another day or two to wrap up this thing with Wraith.

As the phone clicked over to voice mail, he walked to the mahogany bar stationed on the other side of the office. His navy polo shirt stuck to the small of his back, and he had long ago switched to a pair of shorts. Who the hell was going to see him anyway? Power ties and designer suits didn’t mean much without an audience to lord them over.

Ice clinked in the glass as he tossed each cube in. A refreshing, cool draft stole out of the little refrigerator, and he took his time grabbing the ginger ale. He blended it with his favorite single malt whiskey and downed the whole thing.

“Just what I needed.” He smacked the glass onto the bar and made another. He should probably eat something to help balance the alcohol, but didn’t feel like expending the effort.

The phone on his desk rang again. He glared at the device. “I’m not answering your summons, Alan.”

He shot back the second round.

The phone quit ringing.

Skipping the soda and ice for the third, he splashed three fingers more into his highball.

The phone began ringing again.

His heart skipped a beat. Maybe Mars had finally done his job and eliminated the Shade. About time. That bitch had now cost him four highly skilled operatives—a whole squad whose sudden, simultaneous deaths were going to be hard to explain. Not to mention the time he’d have to spend researching and recruiting their replacements.

He placed his full drink on the desk and read the display. The call was routed from the secured line in his headquarters’ office.
Promising.

He hit speakerphone. “Victor.”

“Call off your dog.”

“Excuse me? Who is this? How did you get this number?”

“Place a KOS order on a guy and suddenly you forget what he sounds like.”

Victor dropped into the overlarge leather chair and clicked a button on the side of the phone to start recording and a trace. “Cappy.”

“Ah. So Alzheimer’s hasn’t set in yet.”

Asshole. The second monitor on his desk displayed a world map jumping from country to country, city to city.

“Why are you calling me? You should be on your way to headquarters. Your annual interview is overdue.”

“So not Alzheimer’s, but dementia. Got it.”

He gripped his glass. “Your whole team is supposed to be on their way in. Is that what you’re calling to tell me? Your arrival time? Don’t think we’re not going to have a chat about this insubordination.”

“As if you’d actually be there to greet us.”
Cappy snorted.
“I remember scoring much higher than that on my intelligence exams. Besides, why would we make it easier for you to kill us?”

“I haven’t placed a KOS on your team.”

Cappy gave a small merciless laugh.
“Stop dicking me around. It’s overkill tracing this call. You already know where I am.”

“So, it’s true.” His knuckles popped against the glass. “You all found Wraith and instead of doing your jobs, you turned Rogue. Consider a KOS order
now
officially placed on each of your heads.”

“Whatever,”
Cappy replied blandly to his execution notice.
“It was already there and we both know it. I’ll say it again since you’ve proven to be dense; call off your dog.”

Victor’s second monitor continued to search. He knew it was an exercise in futility since Cappy had admitted to being in Ridge Creek, but he couldn’t help himself. He had to be sure.

“Tongue-tied now too?”

“Mars has not completed his objective. When he does,
then
I’ll call him off.”

“Let me put it another way.”
Cappy’s tone changed, his voice now low and hard.
“If you don’t call off your dog, I will release the evidence I have that will take you down forever.”

Victor’s heart raced and his spine stiffened. “Threats don’t work on me, Cappy. You should know that.”

“That’s why I’m not threatening. You’re too much of a politician to understand the difference between someone posturing and someone giving you a single warning. I’ll say it slower: Call off Mars and every other operative you have, rescind the KOS orders on my entire team—that includes Wraith—and never come near us again. If you don’t, I will take you down.”

“Taking me down takes you down, asshole.”

“Name-calling now?”
Cappy’s cruel laugh got under Victor’s skin.
“Rattled, are we? Good. You should be. I’m not even going to reply to your obvious attempts at fishing for what I have. This is your only warning.”

“You all will die for this, Cappy. Not by a bullet either. I’ll make sure everyone suffers first.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Your threats don’t particularly scare me. But you should heed what I said.”

The bastard hung up.

Son of a bitch!

TRACE FAILED
flashed across his monitor. As if he hadn’t already figured that out.

He downed his highball. The liquor hit the back of his throat as he studied the pattern in the glass. Could Cappy actually have something? He’d never known the operative to bluff before. Of course, the man had never been on the wrong side of a kill-on-sight order before either.

Why have things gone sideways these last few days?

Only one other employee might know the answer.
Ted.

Victor slammed his glass down. Now it was starting to make sense. Ted’s squeamishness when he told Victor about Wraith, his nervous prattling on the phone about gathering the new files, the sudden disappearance.

The alcohol burned the knots forming in his stomach.

No wonder Cappy had been gloating. Ted had actually betrayed his family and run to the enemy. The bastard had his nephew.

He dialed his assassin’s cell phone.

“Mars.”
His voice sounded hoarse and strained. Whatever. Victor couldn’t think about what the man could’ve done to hurt himself.

“I’ve got another target for you. I’m issuing a KOS order on Ted Byrnes.” He gagged on the lump in his throat.

“Okay.”

“But,” Victor emphasized, gripping the receiver, “you can
only
take him out if you see him in Ridge Creek. Nowhere else but in that vicinity. Do you understand me?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll send you a picture once we hang up.” He cradled his forehead in his hand. “If you have to choose between the two, Ted takes priority over Wraith. Any questions?”

“No.”

“Good. Don’t fuck this up.” He disconnected and rubbed his eyes.

Cappy just might be telling the truth, the son of a bitch.

Victor ran his hands through his hair. He needed a backup plan.
That asshole cannot win.

After forwarding the picture to Mars’s phone, he lurched to the bar and grabbed the whole bottle of Scotch. Conversations with Ted over the past few months streamed through his head. How could it come to this? Ordering a KOS on his own nephew?

He downed two shots in a row.

As he replayed the mental video, it seemed as if the most notable changes occurred after the kid discovered Wraith was still alive. Only now did Victor remember Ted confessing after first meeting Wraith that he was quite taken with her. A crush, as Ted had called it.

Receiving that e-mail from his—

Of course!
Victor plopped the almost empty bottle down. He about broke the little dial on the computer mouse scrolling through his e-mail. Bingo. He enlarged the one Ted had forwarded to him a month ago, then dialed the numbers on the screen.

After four rings, a deep male voice answered,
“Hello?”

“Condor, I presume?”

“Who’s asking?”

“Victor Dalmingo.”

“No shit. Ted’s boss?”

“One and the same.”

“What can I do for you?”

“You sent Ted a video about a month ago. Is your friend still interested in the answer?”

“Absolutely. You have something for me?”

“No. I have something for him. I want the contact information of the person ultimately asking for this information. I will not deal with any middle men.”

“I can’t give you that.”

“Then I guess we’re finished.” He hung up, his heart pounding and the alcohol swimming in his brain. He gave it five minutes tops before Condor called back.

Four minutes, fifty-eight seconds later, the phone rang.

“Damn, I’m good.” He chuckled, jabbing the speaker button.

“Victor,” he answered.

“Hello,”
a smooth voice with a heavy Hispanic accent replied.
“My name is Carlos. I hear you have some information for me.”