Singed (5 page)
She glanced away from the meds into the living room, to the feature wall above the couch that she and Danny had painted together when he’d first moved in. It was covered with awards and medals from his days in the Army. The hardest one to look at was a picture of him in full dress SF uniform, his green beret tipped at an angle, a huge grin on his face. His fiancée had taken it the day before he shipped out on a nine month long deployment to Afghanistan. He’d come back changed, quieter, but nothing compared to when he’d been wounded during his third tour.
She still remembered the blind terror she’d felt after getting the call from her father, saying Danny had been hit and no one knew how badly he’d been hurt. She’d been so grateful to see him at Walter Reed. They’d all been so optimistic, assuming he would recover fully and be his old self again. Even Danny. Instead he’d become a husk of what he’d once been, a soldier with mental and emotional scars more terrible than the ones that marked his skin.
From his arrival at the hospital he’d driven everyone out of his life, including his sweetheart of a fiancée. Their mother had walked away sixteen years ago and made a new, less dysfunctional family with her second husband. Claire and their father were all Danny had left.
She tried again. “Maybe we should get you out of here for a while, whaddya think? Grab a shower and we can go out to that Italian place you love.”
He seemed to retreat further into himself at her words, whether from the meds or his depression, she couldn’t tell. “No thanks. I’m tired. Just wanna chill here.”
He chilled all day long, every damn day, that was part of the problem. Claire let out a slow breath. She’d come to check on him; he was alive if not particularly pleasant or much to look at right now, and he’d eaten. Her duty was fulfilled. “All right then, maybe another time.”
“Yeah.”
They both knew it would never happen. Along with the severe depression, crippling PTSD and whatever physical discomfort he felt, it was the moral injury he’d sustained that had inflicted the most damage. Something he’d done during his last tour and hadn’t breathed a word of to anyone.
She didn’t know whether to shake him or cry. “Okay then. See you later.” Though she didn’t feel like it she forced herself to cross the room and bend to kiss his scruffy cheek. His body odor was strong enough to make her hold her breath. “Love you.” Because she did, damn him, no matter how miserable he was to be around. For some reason she still loved the frustrating bastard he’d become. Or maybe it was because she still clung to the hope he’d get better and once again be the person she’d loved and admired her whole life.
“Yeah. You too.”
By the time she made it outside and stepped onto the sidewalk, a sheen of tears blurred her eyes. God help her for thinking it, but sometimes she wished that IED had killed him outright, rather than having to watch him slowly kill himself like this.
The quiet whoosh of a window rolling down brought her head up. “Everything good?” Gage asked, leaning over to look at her through his open passenger window.
What she wouldn’t give to talk to him right now, the way she used to. Gage understood about Danny better than anyone. She cleared her throat. “Yeah, fine. I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks.”
“No worries. G’night.” He did the window up and she didn’t look back as she rounded the hood of her SUV and climbed in. She already knew she’d be seeing him long before morning. Because without a doubt he’d be right there in her rearview mirror all the way back to her place. And she was more grateful for that than he’d ever know.
At seven thirty the next morning Gage pushed open the door of the team’s new office space the NSA had put them in. Hunt was already there, along with the two other Titanium employees they’d worked with over in Pakistan, all seated around a large rectangular table strewn with laptops and papers.
Blake Ellis looked up to nod at him, a former Marine Scout/Sniper with medium-toned brown skin and hazel eyes. Beside him sat Sean Dunphy, ex Force Recon NCO and resident computer genius. Aside from Claire, Dunphy was the best Gage had seen with IT stuff. His collar-length black hair was already mussed from him shoving his fingers through it. Staring at the laptop screen in front of him, he muttered a quiet curse and typed something with a series of quick keystrokes.
Gage strode over to take a look at the screen. “Hit a snag already?”
Dunphy typed something else in and responded without looking up. “Whoever the TTP have as an encrypter, they’re good. I’ve been at this since six and can’t crack the coding yet.”
“Lucky for us the day’s still young.” He turned his attention to Hunt on the other side of the table, poring over the files spread out before him. “Anything new this morning?”
“Not yet. Just waiting on the rest of the crew to get here so we can divvy up assignments.”
Gage helped himself to one of the unopened files before Hunter and read through its contents, re-familiarizing himself with the key players involved with the cell. Most of the names were already familiar so he spent time getting to know the ones that weren’t. The majority of the men suspected to be involved were Pakistani, but there were a few Afghans and one from Yemen as well.
He glanced up a few minutes later when the door opened. Alex strode in with Jake Evers, the FBI guy. An unfamiliar woman followed behind him, then Claire. Gage straightened, offered a polite smile when she met his gaze then quickly looked away. She was still tense, and this morning she had shadows under her eyes that told him she hadn’t slept for shit last night. Whether it was because of him, the situation with the TTP cell or things with her brother, he didn’t know, but he was willing to bet all three were weighing heavily on her. It drove him nuts that he wasn’t in a position to do anything to alleviate some of that stress for her anymore.
Alex set his own laptop on the table and tossed his jacket over the back of a chair. “Everyone, this is Zahra Gill.” He indicated the slender woman with long wavy black hair and greenish eyes that had come in behind Evers. “She’ll be helping run diagnostics and working with Dunphy on breaking any encrypted files we find. She’s fluent in Urdu and can handle Pashto as well.”
Everyone introduced themselves and shook hands, and Gage noticed Dunphy watching the newcomer with interest. Maybe because now he’d have help cracking the encryption and someone to translate the messages exactly—but more likely because he was looking forward to working with a good looking woman instead of one of his male teammates for a change.
“This morning I received new intelligence about what we’re dealing with,” Alex continued. “Senator Larkin’s got a team with him up in Boston, but from recent chatter we now think the TTP might be setting their sights on a civilian target in another city instead. Possibly Baltimore or DC.”
At that, Gage’s eyes snapped over to Claire. She was standing beside the closed door, unmoving. Although she didn’t outwardly react to Alex’s words, Gage knew they’d hit home from the way she swallowed. The pulse in her throat throbbed visibly. God dammit, he wanted his gut to be wrong for once.
“That’s all we know so far,” Evers added, looking a bit sheepish. “I’ll update all of you as soon as I hear anything else.”
“Gage.”
He turned his head to meet Alex’s pale stare.
“A word with you and Hunter?” He tipped his head toward the door. Gage nodded and followed him out with Hunt, unable to quell the urge to squeeze Claire’s shoulder on the way past. The cell had been researching her, likely still were. Was she the new target? Her muscles were rigid beneath his hand but she forced a quick smile before he disappeared through the door and shut it behind him.
“Let’s talk in my office,” Alex said, not bothering to look back at them as he continued down the hall. Once they were secured in his office he sat on the edge of his desk and faced them both, arms folded across his chest. Gage and Hunter dropped into chairs across from him. “So. Claire.”
Gage’s mind was already working overtime. “The Baltimore/DC thing—is that really all you’ve got?”
“As of right now, yeah.”
His jaw tightened as he considered his next words. “No one knows how they tracked her phone records? No one knows who accessed the satellite feeds?”
“We’re working on it.”
Gage opened his mouth to say what was bothering him most but Hunter beat him to it by asking, “What are the odds you’re dealing with an inside job here?”
Exactly, Gage thought. How the hell else would they be able to trace her so easily?
Alex’s calm expression never changed. “I’d say slim, but not impossible. We’re looking at that possibility too.”
Yeah, Gage bet they were. Along with every other three letter agency in the country. “I want a protective detail on her. Now.”
Alex nodded once. “Done, but I don’t want that out there for her to know. This stays between us for the time being. Got anyone in mind?” He raised a sardonic eyebrow.
Gage looked at Hunt. “Who do you want?”
Say me. Designate me.
Hunt’s light brown eyes were steady on his. “Can you keep your head straight if I assign you?”
Well, Jesus, if that didn’t sting. “Just pair me with her during the investigation so I can keep tabs on her.” He’d feel better keeping any eye on her personally anyhow. He didn’t want anyone else tasked with keeping her safe, and both Hunt and Alex knew it.
“You keep it on the low,” Hunt said. “The minute you can’t watch her back and do your job, you speak up. No bullshit, man.”
“No bullshit,” he agreed, understanding perfectly why Hunt had to say it. Gage’s objectivity was going to be sorely tested in the coming days or weeks ahead. But then, Claire had always had the disconcerting ability to shoot his concentration all to hell.
“You need backup with anything, just say the word.”
Gage nodded, appreciating his team leader’s trust. “What kind of threat are we looking at here?” he asked Alex. “A quick hit? Suicide bombing with a lot of collateral damage?”
“Probably something in between. They’re gonna want to do something that makes a statement, we think with a giant middle finger to the US government. If they’re really targeting Claire, with her working for us it stands to reason they might try something here. Might be improbable but we can’t rule it out entirely. Let’s just say that certain measures are already being taken. We’re not going to be caught on our heels with this one.”
Would be nice if that level of concern was because Claire might be in danger, and not merely in the interest of protecting the agency’s rep. While he believed Alex cared about her safety, Gage was too experienced to believe differently of the agency. “Good.”
“How you gonna handle it?” Hunt asked him curiously. “Think she’ll let you hang around long enough to do the job?”
“If Alex pairs me with her, yeah.” Then she’d have no choice and he’d have the perfect opportunity.
The older man nodded, a gleam of humor in his eyes. “Consider it done.”
They filed back down the hall into the boardroom at the far end. Everyone was busy doing their jobs. Ellis was on his phone, Dunphy was conferring with Claire and Zahra about the encrypted files in question and Evers was listening intently to them. Everyone glanced up when they entered and Gage could tell from the searching look Claire gave him that she knew they’d been discussing her.
“We’ve got something,” Dunphy announced. Gage, Hunt and Alex rounded the table to stare at the laptop in front of him. They’d broken the encryption from one of the online militant forums the TTP favored. A few lines of what looked like Urdu text filled the screen. Gage could speak it almost as well as a native, but he couldn’t read more than a few words of it.
“Zahra?” Alex asked.
The young woman cleared her throat and tucked a shiny lock of hair behind her ear before translating. “‘Our contact has agreed to our terms. He has the necessary information to carry out God’s work, beginning with the target in Baltimore’.”
A charged silence filled the room and Gage’s hands curled into fists. Were those fuckers talking about Claire? No one was going to harm her. Not on his watch.
“Who is this guy? Who sent that?” Alex demanded, reading the message for himself though Gage knew the man’s knowledge of written Urdu wasn’t much better than his.
“Someone from a militant chat room,” Dunphy answered, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he tried to pull up more info. “No profile on him…” More typing. “A lot of chatter from him over the past week though. Might be their new spokesman?”
“Where’s he located?”
