by Jackie D.
Emma was losing her mind. She had no reason to be jealous. She was acting like a child, petulant about something she wanted and someone else had. Dylan didn’t belong to her, she had no claim, and she had absolutely no reason to react the way she did. She knew that intellectually, she understood all of this, but it didn’t stop her body from having a visceral reaction to the information. What does “lots” mean? She sighed, even madder at herself now for understanding what was happening and perpetuating it.
She needed to get her head on straight. This was her first real opportunity in her career to show what she could do, that she was capable of more than sitting in a room alone for sixteen hours a day. She needed to take advantage of the opportunity in front of her and knock it out of the park. There was no room or time to be fantasizing about some CIA spy who probably wouldn’t give her a second look had they met anywhere else. Dylan was a distraction and a player, and Emma had to remember that. Don’t blow this, Quinn.
She arrived back at the safe house feeling as though she’d thoroughly and properly chastised herself to the point of understanding. It didn’t matter how good Dylan Prey looked in running pants, or how her eyes crinkled when she laughed. It didn’t matter how every time Emma looked at her, she wondered what it would be like to have her hands on her, or how her skin tasted. Oh my God. Seriously? We just talked about this. Knock it off. She blew out a deep breath and tried to calm her mind with what she knew scientifically about her reaction to Dylan. Lust is triggered by estrogen and the desire for sexual gratification and our need to reproduce. Attraction involves the brain pathways for reward and includes the intervention of dopamine and norepinephrine. These will make you giddy, energetic, and euphoric—your reaction to Dylan. It’s all a chemical reaction and something you can get a handle on.
She was lightly pounding her head against the steering wheel when a knock on the window completed the circle of her embarrassment.
“You okay, Quinn?” Jennifer asked, looking concerned.
Emma pushed the door open and got out of the car. “Yeah, I’m great! Why?” She was a little too excited, compensating for the whole hitting her head on the steering wheel thing.
Jennifer cocked an eyebrow at her. “Umm…because that isn’t the behavior of someone great.” She pointed to the steering wheel.
Emma didn’t want to explain any of this, so she thought as fast as she could. “No, just psyching myself up for the day.” She lifted one hand in the air. “Go, team!” She shook the hand around. “Yay!” I wish Caden had found me. She’s not nearly as observant.
Jennifer crossed her arms. “Did everything go okay with Prey?”
Emma got out of the car and pointed toward the house. “Yup, passed all the info along.” She started walking faster. “I’m going to go take a shower. Be back in a jiffy.”
A jiffy? So what, now you’re from the nineteen fifties? Emma didn’t bother to look back at Jennifer. She could feel her eyes on her, probably trying to figure out how they got stuck with such a weirdo.
Thirty minutes later, Emma headed back down to their makeshift control center. The cold shower had done her a world of good, and she’d almost convinced herself that she was back to normal, whatever normal was for her. She hoped Jennifer hadn’t made too big of a deal about their earlier conversation. Emma wanted nothing more than to put it behind her.
When she came into the room, everyone’s attention was on the screens that hung on the main wall. Jennifer and Brooke sat behind their computer stations, ready to type in whatever information might be helpful. Caden was on the ground doing some overly ambitious rendition of push-ups, and Tyler was jumping rope.
Brooke looked over at her and smiled. “Carol just got off the phone with Dylan, and she’s on her way up to her apartment.”
What better way to get her mind off Dylan than to watch her for the next several hours? Sound logic. She took a seat next to Brooke and pulled out her laptop, ready to do her part.
Chapter Twelve
Carol opened the door and smiled. “Good morning, Sasha.”
Dylan dipped her head. “Good morning, ma’am.”
Carol grabbed her hand and pulled her inside. “Is this when I ask you to show me your identification?” She winked at her.
Dylan didn’t want to egg this on in any way but thought a small amount of playing along could yield results. “Would you like to?”
Carol ran one finger down Dylan’s jaw and across her lips. “Not yet, I prefer some mystery.”
Dylan was grateful for her response. She had all the necessary tattoos, fake of course, that would allow her to pass for her leadership level inside the mob, but she didn’t want to take her shirt off.
“How was your evening?” Dylan asked and walked to the large window on the other side of the room.
“Uneventful. Being stuck inside is starting to do things to my head.” Carol sighed dramatically and stood next to her.
Dylan decided to try to pry a bit of information out of her. “You’re attending the gala, yes?”
Carol bit her bottom lip and continued to stare out the window. “Yes.”
“There will be a few shop owners here today, cleared through us. You can try on some things and decide what you’d like. Before I inform them what to bring, is there a specific look you’re going for?”
Carol tapped her finger against her lips. “Formal wear, obviously.” She looked out the window a bit longer and shrugged. “But maybe something a little fun, kind of flirty.”
Dylan made sure not to smile at the answer, which gave her an opening. “Flirty? Is there anyone in particular you hope to catch the attention of?”
Carol turned and looked at her, a little bit of anger flaring in her eyes. “No. I dress for myself and no one else. Always have, always will.”
She turned and headed in the direction of her bedroom. “I need to freshen up. Don’t touch anything.”
Dylan had clearly hit a soft spot of Carol’s, and she didn’t want to lose what small bits of progress she’d made. She wanted Carol to trust her, to let her guard down. She’d have to avoid this topic unless Carol brought it up again. Dylan glanced down at Carol’s computer and thought briefly about downloading all the information from it, but she wasn’t sure how much time she had until Carol returned and she couldn’t risk it. She’d wait until Carol was trying on clothes and then make her attempt. They really needed to know who this person was that Carol was dating or, at the very least, sleeping with.
Dylan stepped closer to the large sliding glass door when she heard Carol coming back into the room. “I’m sorry if I overstepped. It wasn’t my intention to upset you.”
Carol waved dismissively and tossed a file folder onto the table. “I need your security people to be on the lookout for these individuals, specifically.”
Dylan picked up the folder. “Have they threatened you?” She flipped open the cover and forced herself not to react when she saw Tyler, Caden, Jennifer, and Brooke. There were random photos of each of them—coming and going from buildings, getting into cars, and drinking coffee.
“They’re the reason I’m here.” Carol let out a long breath and rolled her eyes. “They want nothing more than to see me dead.”
Dylan closed the folder and slid it under her arm. “I will notify my men immediately. How would you like us to handle them if they show up?”
Carol sat on the couch but turned her focus toward the window. “Would you kill them if I asked?”
“Without hesitation,” Dylan answered.
Carol turned and smiled at her. Dylan fought the urge to ask more about her plans. She knew Carol was playing a game of some kind and would only reveal information at her own pace. Any coaxing on Dylan’s part would tell Carol more about Dylan than vice versa. She knew Carol’s type; she’d been surrounded by people like her for most of her career. People like Carol only cared about themselves and would sacrifice whatever, and whoever, necessary to ensure they came out on top. Carol had no allegiance, no
sense of loyalty, no desire to protect anyone but herself. It served her well in this world, but the damage it would leave behind would be visible on her soul.
Dylan’s phone buzzed and she glanced at the screen. “Ma’am, the shop owners are here to see you now.”
Carol smiled and stood. “Excellent.” She let her eyes linger over Dylan. “Feel free to stay, so you can let me know what you think. That is, unless you have somewhere else to be.”
Dylan could think of about a million places she’d rather be. “My place is here with you until you dismiss me.”
Carol’s eyes sparkled. “I like that.”
Dylan wasn’t sure what kind of game Carol was playing, but she knew it was a game all the same. Dylan was familiar with the games people played because she’d participated in more than she could count. There were games of seduction, manipulation, power, revenge, and pure self-interest. Dylan just needed to narrow down Carol’s motivation, but she assumed it was a mixture of them all. This made Carol not only unpredictable but even more dangerous than she’d initially thought. Cornered animals would fight their way out, no matter the cost.
She watched the shop owners wheel in cart after cart of elegant clothing. They bristled with excitement as Carol traced her fingers over the pieces and practically fell over themselves to help her try on the garment of her choosing. Carol was devouring the attention. Dylan could tell by the way she let her fingers linger, wanting to increase the excitement. She clearly loved her role as predator, no matter how small the prey.
Dylan glanced up at one of the cameras, wondering if the team on the other end was picking up the same inflections she’d been. But of course, they were, they knew Carol O’Brien better than anyone. They’d spent years chasing her, tracking her, learning what she was capable of. That was why Carol had given her their pictures; she was scared of them. She knew her manipulative words wouldn’t work on them. They’d managed to take her down, peg by peg.
Carol turned in front of the full-length mirror, ensuring her dress was hugging her in all the right places. She looked up at Dylan and winked at her, wanting to make sure Dylan took her in completely.
The proverbial light bulb went off, and she gave Carol a brief nod before looking away. I know who her boyfriend is.
Chapter Thirteen
Tyler felt the force of the heavy bag as she heaved her fist into it for at least the thousandth time. The small, dimly lit garage was a poor excuse for a gym, but it was all they had. Sweat continued to burn her eyes, and her muscles felt like molten lava. She should’ve stopped fifteen minutes ago, but her mind wasn’t clear yet. It was still hazy around the edges with the uncomfortable realization that so much of this mission was out of her hands. Tony’s words kept echoing in her mind. Ninety-six percent.
She heard Brooke before she saw her. “What did that bag ever do to you?”
Tyler slowed the bag with her gloved hand, and her body instinctively gasped for the air she’d been denying it. “How did you find me?”
Brooke pushed herself off the wall and walked over to her. She put her hands on Tyler’s face and kissed her softly. “I know you better than you know yourself, sweetheart. This is the first place I looked.”
“Am I really becoming that predictable? That doesn’t bode well for my career.” Tyler unlaced her gloves and took the towel Brooke offered.
Brooke wiped some hair out of Tyler’s face. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”
Tyler gulped down the water she’d brought with her, enjoying the tiny streams that escaped her mouth and fell onto her chest. “Four percent.”
One of the things she loved the most about her and Brooke’s relationship was how little she had to explain to her partner. Brooke understood her on a level she’d never experienced before. Brooke knew the expectations she had for herself professionally and personally. Tyler knew she couldn’t control every situation or every set of circumstances, but she didn’t like playing games or taking chances where other people were concerned.
“I could tell you that Dylan knew the risk she was taking when she agreed to help us,” Brooke said. “I could also tell you that four percent is still four percent, and we’ve beaten tougher odds.” She sat on the bench. “I know none of that will make you feel better. So, instead, I’ll remind you that we’re the best backup Dylan could have in this situation. I’ll also remind you that there’s no one anyone would rather have on their team than you.”
Tyler searched Brooke’s eyes and found what she always saw staring back at her, honesty. She took a seat next to Brooke. “You know, it still catches me off guard sometimes.”
Brooke put her head on Tyler’s shoulder. “What does?”
Tyler kissed the top of Brooke’s head. “How much I love you.”
Brooke smiled against Tyler’s shoulder and then kissed the top. “Good. I hope we never take each other for granted.”
Tyler looked over to the pile of folded clothes in the corner of the room. The ring was there in the pocket of her pants. These moments of quiet where the rest of the world seemed to fall away weren’t something either of them enjoyed in abundance. Tyler considered going over, getting the ring, and proposing to Brooke right then. But she didn’t. She still needed to speak with Brooke’s father. Not to ask permission, or seek his approval—no, that was an archaic custom. She wanted him to know her intentions so the news wouldn’t put a deeper strain on Brooke’s relationship with her parents. She wasn’t sure it would matter, but at least she’d know she tried.
“What are you thinking about?” Brooke asked as she ran her hand along Tyler’s jaw.
Tyler leaned her head into Brooke’s touch. “Just that you’re the best thing to ever happen to me.”
Brooke kissed Tyler’s nose. “Don’t ever forget it.” She stood up. “Now, go take a shower and come eat something.”
Emma walked into the room and turned red. “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”
Tyler tossed the towel over her shoulder. “You didn’t. What’s up?”
Emma pointed behind her. “We got a message from Langley. I thought you’d want to see it right away.”
Tyler nodded and followed them out the door. She steeled herself for whatever kink the higher-ups were about to throw their way. They hadn’t been here long enough to have done anything wrong, and communication was supposed to be sparse for fear of foreign interception. This could only mean one thing—her job was about to become significantly more complicated.
* * *
Emma rubbed the rosary in her pocket as she watched Tyler read the message they’d just received. She wasn’t sure what their next step would be, but she was sure Tyler would have a plan. There has been a change in strategy. Stand down until you receive the proper authorization. We’re awaiting further instructions.
Caden smacked the table. “What the hell does stand down mean? This is bullshit. We’re already here, we’re already working on a plan, we already have people out there. Do they realize what it could mean if we stand down?”
Emma shared Caden’s confusion and anger; she just wasn’t as animated in her delivery. “What do you want me to do?” It didn’t matter who answered, Emma only wanted to do something.
Tyler continued to stare at the screen, her hand on her chin. “I assume you authenticated the message?”
“Yes, of course,” Emma said.
Caden stood up so fast her chair fell over behind her. She stood next to the screen on the wall where the message was on display for the team to see. “You aren’t seriously going to listen to this, right? If we alter the plan now, we’ll be putting Prey in more danger than she’s already in.”
Emma’s stomach tightened, and her face flushed hot. She could feel the sweat starting at her brow. “It came directly from CIA Director Walker. I have yet to hear anything from Director Ericson at Homeland.”
Caden threw her hands in the air. “Since when do we answer to Walker?”
“Since we’re on loan to the CIA,” T
yler murmured. She turned, looking at Emma. “You need to get a message to Captain Hart. We need to see him as soon as possible.”
Emma nodded and sat at her station, happy to have something to keep her occupied. After she sent the message out, she watched her teammates. Caden was still ranting to no one in particular. Brooke and Jennifer were busy typing at their stations, probably checking to see if there had been any computer interference. There wasn’t, she’d already checked. But Tyler, she stayed cemented in her spot, still staring at the screen. Her facial expression had yet to change, and Emma wondered what she could be considering.
Emma’s computer dinged, and she opened the message. “Captain Hart will be here within the hour.”
Tyler nodded toward the screen. “Pull up O’Brien’s apartment.”
Emma did as she was asked. She was relieved to see Carol was now alone in her temporary home. Dylan had apparently left, and Emma found herself wondering where she’d gone. She told herself it was out of concern for whatever was happening among the ranks far above her own. A tingling in her chest told her that wasn’t entirely true. She thought about what Dylan did when she wasn’t working. She was curious as to who she was with and what her activities included. She rolled her shoulders, hoping to push the thought away. It didn’t matter, not right now.
Tyler took a step closer to the screen, observing O’Brien. “What are you up to?”
“What are you thinking?” Jennifer asked from her computer station.
Tyler turned and looked at her. Her face was calm, but her brows were furrowed. “We’ve been chasing O’Brien for over a year. At first, we had no idea she had anything to do with the white nationalists. She wasn’t even on our radar until Thompson got sloppy. Her position as Speaker of the House helped to shield her place. It’s foolish to think she was able to maintain that kind of autonomy without having friends in high places.”