THE GUARDIAN (Taskforce Series) (29 page)

“Hello.”
Lena
summoned a friendly smile
.

“Hi.” The girl managed a shy smile of her own. “You’re very pretty.”

The comment evoked a bitter laugh. She didn’t feel pretty at the moment. “I’m sorry for intruding on your time with your father,” she apologized.

“That’s okay. I’m used to him being busy.”

The girl stepped cautiously out onto the balcony. Her fresh face and wise-looking eyes reminded Lena of Alexa. A knot swelled in her throat.

“Are you going to have breakfast with us?” the preteen asked
.

“If that’s okay with you.”

“Sure. Then maybe you can come down to the beach with us afterward.”

The offer just proved how unaware she was of the circumstances
.
“Maybe,”
Lena
answered
.

“You could borrow one of my grandma’s swimsuits. She went home to water plants this weekend.”

“We’ll see.” At least Silvia Shultz wasn’t around to formulate a negative opinion of her. It was hard enough to cope with
Jackson
’s censure
.

“Orange juice or milk?” he asked from the open door.

“
Orange
juice, please. Here, let me help.”

“Talk to Naomi,” he said shortly. He looked at his daughter who said she wanted milk, and then he disappeared.

“Naomi, that’s a pretty name,”
Lena
commented.

“Thanks.” Naomi slipped into the chair Toby had vacated.

“How old are you?”
Lena
asked.

“Twelve and a half.”

“So grown up. Let me guess:  You’re going into seventh grade?”

The girl grimaced and sighed. “Yeah.” 

“You don’t look too thrilled about it.”

“That’s ’cause there’s so much drama in middle school. You don’t even know who your real friends are.”

Lena
’s heart sank. That was probably the way
Jackson
felt about her right now. How would she ever redeem herself?

The more
Jackson
dug into his plate of pancakes the more he had to fight to hold onto his resentment.

Damn it,
Lena
had compromised his cover by involving her boss!
But that had been done unwittingly,
argued a voice in his head. Watching her interact with his daughter across the table on the deck, he admitted he still wanted her, not just physically but in every aspect of his life.

You love her,
a little voice inside his head accused, causing him to realize their changed circumstances hadn’t altered his feelings for her.

Nor was he the only one basking in
Lena
’s company. The dimple flashing on Naomi’s right told a similar story. He hadn’t seen his daughter work so hard to impress a stranger since he’d taken Eryn ice skating the winter before Ike came home injured from
Afghanistan
.

“You’re not married, are you?” Naomi blurted.

Jackson
felt his face heat and quickly hid that fact behind his coffee mug
.
 

“No.”
Lena
wiped her mouth with a napkin as she shook her head
.
   

“Have you ever been married?”

“Naomi,”
Jackson
warned.

“That’s okay,”
Lena
assured him, though her face was distinctly flushed. “No, I’ve never been married.”

“My dad was married to my mom,” Naomi said matter-of-factly, “but she died in a car accident.”

Jackson
laid down his fork
.
 

“I’m so sorry.”

Lena
’s sincerity cut straight to his heart. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her and see her pity. “I know what it’s like to lose a member of your family. My sister died when she was just few years older than you.”

“How’d she die?” 

The pancakes in
Jackson
’s stomach were turning into concrete. “Sweetheart,” he firmly interrupted, “how would you like to take
Lena
to the beach while Mr. Burke and I have our morning conference?” Ike had scheduled a 10:30 teleconference even before he’d gotten word of
Jackson
’s cover being blown. The Taskforce lead didn’t want
Lena
to walk out the door before they all discussed what to do about her
.

“Yes!” Naomi cried, giving up all pretense of eating. “You want to play at the beach?” She didn’t wait for
Lena
to answer. “Let’s go!” Gathering up her plate and utensils, she started to carry them inside. “I’ll find one of Grandma’s suits for you to wear.”

Looking bemused,
Lena
rose more slowly. “Does this mean I’m being held for questioning?” she asked the men as Naomi slipped into the house
.

Jackson
blinked. He’d like to hold her hostage for an eternity. “Don’t know yet,” he retorted. Right now he liked having her on the end of his hook, squirming and groveling for his forgiveness. “Toby and I have a phone conference with our boss. Once we’ve spoken to him, I’ll know where we stand. We shouldn’t be long, and Naomi could use your supervision.”

“Okay,” she agreed. Looking anxious but resigned, she followed Naomi inside.

“You scheming SOB,” Toby murmured with glint of approval in his eyes. “You’re just keeping her here in the hopes of getting some action later.”

Jackson
sent him a long, hard look. “I cooked, so you get to clean up,” he declared, ignoring Toby’s evil chuckle as he left him to clear the table
.

Sequestered in the office to browse his emails,
Jackson
admitted to himself that Toby was right.
Lena
might have jeopardized their investigation, she might have rejected his vision for the future, but he still wanted her, desperately.

At least she’d warned them of her boss’s intent, he reminded himself. A lesser woman might have just walked away and let the dice fall wherever they rolled.

He swiped a hand over his face. With so much uncertainty, it was impossible to know what the future held for anyone.

Toby pushed into the room just as Ike’s image appeared on the screen, accompanied by a warning chime. “We caught a break,” Ike announced, getting right to the point. “And it was the hip hop music like you suspected, Maddox. Job well done.”

Toby hit him hard on the back. “Atta boy, Jack!”

Ike plowed ahead. “We knew Zakariya had a habit of visiting a certain music site, but we didn’t realize, until you suggested it, that the music he was putting down as his top ten picks was encoded. This is how the imams have been flying under the radar. Zakariya disseminates Ibrahim’s messages for him, communicating with his Five Percent followers via the music. They call it God’s Hop.”

Jackson
’s dark mood lifted. Maybe he’d be leaving Gateway sooner than expected, and it wouldn’t matter if his cover got blown
.
 

“We are now fully certain that this group is planning a revolution,” Ike continued, tethering
Jackson
’s hopes, “but our expert is an encryption specialist, not a Five Percenter, and he can’t tell from the lyrics alone when the violence is due to break out. Here’s the bad news: Over twelve thousand website visitors acknowledged Zakariya’s top picks, which suggests the imams have more of a following than we ever suspected. The majority are located on the east coast, with the largest concentration, not surprisingly, in the D.C. area.”

Foreboding reared its grizzly head, chasing
Jackson
’s optimism back into hiding. Judgment Day was beginning to sound more like a reality than a doomsday prophecy
.

“This afternoon,” Ike continued, “I’ll be having an earnest discussion with incarcerated rapper, Hakim Allah, who’s a self-professed Five Percenter. Decoding the music buys him a lighter sentence. Let’s hope he sheds some light into the details we’re missing.”

The team’s gaze shifted to Toby. “At your suggestion, Burke, the fire marshal will descend on Gateway tomorrow at midday. I doubt the leaders are violating any laws, but you can use that distraction, Maddox, to search Zakariya’s office this time. Try to find out where those propane tanks are headed. If the addresses match any of the domain names of those following Zakariya’s playlist, then we’ll have enough implication to start arresting and questioning suspects. That’ll strengthen our case against the clerics.”

“You got it.”

“And, by the way, gentlemen, I’m going to be a father in February.”

The addendum elicited an astonished silence. Ike no longer looked into the camera. The tips of his ears turned pink as he pretended to wipe dust off his keyboard.

Toby broke the awkward moment with a, “Hooah! Way to go, boss.”

A slow smile split
Jackson
’s face. He suddenly realized why Ike had been so damn cranky for the past couple weeks. The specter of fatherhood had obviously terrified him. Eryn had shared with him that Ike’s parents had left him to be raised by an abusive older brother. She must have been working on Ike’s confidence lately, enough that he was now feeling sufficiently positive to share his news with the team.

“I’m happy for you, Ike,”
Jackson
said, grinning at the mental picture of Ike toting a baby in one arm, his favorite long-range rifle in the other. “You’ll make a great dad.” 

“Yeah, well...” The team lead scratched his chin and changed the subject. “About the journalist—”

“Magadalena.”

Ike shot him a look with his eyebrows raised. “Right, her. You tell her we will hold her personally responsible if your identity is leaked to the press.”

Jackson
forcibly exhaled. “It’s out of her hands at this point.”

Ike persisted. “Tell her we want twenty-four hours’ notice, at least. The second she learns her boss is going public with his disclosure, she contacts Toby, and he pulls you out of there. I don’t care what’s going on, Maddox. I’m not going to leave you in there to defend yourself against those thugs and the clerics’ reprisal. And now that we know a senator’s involved, there’s no stopping this exposure.”

“I appreciate that, sir, but like you said, we need enough evidence to guarantee the imams’ indictment.”

“And we’ll get it. This week,” Ike assured him.

“Good luck with Hakim Allah,” Toby tossed out
.

The incarcerated rapper was the one who needed luck,
Jackson
thought as Ike ordered them to enjoy their day and disappeared.

Jackson
logged them out. He knew he ought to be fretting that his cover was about to be blown; instead, his thoughts were down at the beach where two important females awaited him.

He was out of his chair and opening the door when Toby drawled, “If you don’t get a piece of that today, Stonewall, I swear you’re going to have some competition.”