Impact Zone

by Cara Carnes

  Her watch chimed two in the morning, not that the time mattered. Except for three security guards, employees had vacated the facility more than four hours ago—a fact she knew because she had sat in a sweltering van with Fallon and his team since they’d arrived hours ago. Bushes and a desert-colored canopy covered the vehicle, not that anyone would’ve likely spotted it since Sanchez had driven them off the small roadway leading to the facility.

  “Standby to move in. Drones en route to phase one position,” Cord said via the com.

  Rhea’s heart thundered in her ears as she forced a deep breath. Her job tonight was simple—do whatever Fallon and his team said, retrieve the important intel, then get the heck out.

  Easy enough.

  Lucas Donovan, Fallon’s second-in-command, opened the backdoor to the van and exited. Rhea followed when he motioned. No one who worked for Fallon talked much—she hadn’t heard Gray, aka Spade, utter a single word after he’d been sent on first watch. She wasn’t even sure if Walker could speak. Was Walker his first name, or last? Then there was Sanchez. He listened way more than he spoke and had a permanent grin on his face—kind of like a cat who’d just eaten the canary.

  Donovan, Spade, Walker, and Sanchez were just as mysterious as their leader. Rhea wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad one. Fallon was a presence in her life who was equal parts annoyance, attraction, and attitude. Much as she hated to admit it, she was drawn to the ordnance expert who’d sworn to keep her safe even though she was far, far out of her element.

  Adrenaline flooded her system—likely a too-early dump of much-needed endorphins before the mission got underway. What-if scenarios ran through her mind. She processed each one for likely outcomes.

  “Look at me.” Fallon grasped both her shoulders and stepped into her personal space.

  Her pulse quickened as she peered up at the fearless man who’d made zero effort to hide the fact that he didn’t want her in the field with his crew. Nervousness soared within her like uncaged eagles.

  Fallon tugged on the protective vest she wore atop the black long-sleeved henley Bree had insisted she wear as part of Rhea’s crash course in How To Be A Commando.

  Commandos wear black on night missions. You need to blend in. Her friend’s decree scrolled through Rhea’s mind. The rest of the team was in light-colored cargo pants and sand-toned t-shirts. So much for Bree’s Commando 101 training.

  “I should change,” Rhea blurted. “Rhea said you all wear black during night missions.”

  The statement had an accusatory tone which settled like a landmine between her, Fallon, and Donovan. The latter laughed.

  “Ah, Bomb Barbie strikes again. That explains the heavy-assed backpack,” Donovan said as he handed Rhea’s backpack to her.

  “You look through it?” Fallon asked.

  “Nope. Figured she’d never need it since she’s gonna be with you.”

  Rhea’s pulse quickened. She was Fallon’s shadow tonight—which shouldn’t thrill her as much as it did. She’d finally get to see the man in his element. Anticipation bubbled within her as Sanchez, Walker, and Gray huddled up near Donovan to her left.

  Donovan chuckled. “I think Doc is jazzed about her first mission.”

  “Don’t call her that.”

  “She’s Doc to you, so she’s Doc to us. Accept it and move on, man.”

  “Shut it,” Fallon growled. He grasped her chin in his hand and forced her gaze to his. “You keep quiet, do what I say, and stay on me like we practiced.”

  Rhea nodded. She would remain permanently barnacled via the belt loop at the middle of his back.

  “What do you do if trouble finds us?”

  “Curl up low to the ground, head tucked beneath my hands and to my knees. Wait until I’m told it’s safe to move.” Rhea swallowed. “And stay with you.”

  Fallon’s jaw twitched as he glanced at Donovan.

  “Understood, boss,” Donovan said.

  What was understood?

  One by one, the men met Fallon’s intense gaze and nodded, as if the five men had telepathically conversed. Maybe she wasn’t cut out for fieldwork after all. Sure, she’d observed a lot of Mary’s and Vi’s missions, but that’d been from the safety of The Arsenal’s command room. The Quillery Edge never mentioned a team being so synched they didn’t even speak.

  Wow.

  Donovan chuckled again, then held his hands up in mock surrender when Fallon growled. “Sorry, man. You’ve gotta admit she’s funnier than hell right now.”

  She was? How so?

  She shifted from one foot to the next and glanced between the two men as she suppressed the questions ping-ponging in her head. The only bit of advice Mary and Vi had offered was to not ask a lot of questions. Fallon and his crew weren’t exactly conversationalists.

  “Jesus,” Fallon muttered. A heavy sigh filled the air as the rest of the men laughed. His hand moved from its appointed position beneath her chin until it cupped her cheek. Heat spread like a brushfire from the feathery contact. “I need you focused, Doc.”

  “I am. Totally. Focused.”

  “You’re pumped up like you’ve drank a gallon of espressos,” Fallon said.

  “After she’s eaten her weight in sugar,” Donovan added.

  Uh oh. “Sorry, I’m just a little nervous. None of the simulations felt this…” Rhea paused, unsure how to describe what she was feeling. “Real.”

  “It’s good to be alert, but we don’t want you this pumped. If shit hits the fan—which it likely will—you’ll overreact to a threat.” The intensity within Fallon’s words knocked some of the anticipation from her.

  “I won’t screw up,” Rhea said.

  “I know you’ll try not to,” Fallon replied.

  “If you all are done, can we begin the mission now?” Zoey asked. “Or do I have time to get a cocoa?”

  “You shouldn’t have sugar this late at night,” Rhea advised.

  “I’ll keep that in mind, after we’ve broken into a secret laboratory run by a madman,” Zoey said.

  “We don’t know he’s a madman,” Rhea said. “And this lab isn’t a secret.”

  “We assume he is until we know otherwise,” Mary said, making her presence known for the first time. “Move into position.”

  “Roger,” Fallon answered. “You heard Edge. Move out.”

  Mary was the kind of woman men like Fallon were drawn to. Courageous. Resourceful. Intelligent. Rhea had the intelligent part, though not in the way Mary did. She fell way short on the courageous part and didn’t even show up for the resourcefulness. She shoved the unwanted thought aside as she fell into step behind Fallon.

  Donovan and Spade headed to the left, while Walker and Sanchez went right. The facility was still a good distance away, about a quarter mile based on the plans Mary and Jesse had drafted.

  The Carlisle missions were Jesse’s first foray into his new position in the back office. Rhea wondered whether it’d been hard for a warrior like him to take a backseat to the fieldwork. She admired that he’d done so to be more present for Ellie and Ariana.

  Moments later, she wished she’d spent more time on the cardio machine Bree had installed in their laboratory. Her labored breaths were audible over the coms. Heat rose in her cheeks when Fallon slowed his progression toward the building.

  She was totally working out more before the next mission.

  She kept her middle and index fingers wound through the belt loop at the center of Fallon’s back waistline. Her thumb grazed his warm skin when she rested it between the material and his heated flesh, so she formed a fisted grip inches from where a gun was tucked into a holster.

  “Bravo Two and Four in position,” Donovan said over the com.

  “Bravo Three and Five in position,” Walker said.

  Frustration rose within Rhea when Fallon stopped every few yards. “I’m not that out of shape. I can keep going.”

  “You aren’t why he’s stopping,” Jesse said over the com.


  Rhea blinked, then drew her laser-focused gaze away from Fallon’s muscular back. Thin red and black wire trailed behind them. A small post with a green light was in the ground every few yards.

  “Is that…” Rhea swallowed. She should’ve asked more questions during the planning phase—most of which had been focused on what Rhea would be doing.

  Fallon’s portions of tonight were rarely mentioned.

  “Ordnance, Doc.” Fallon looked over his shoulder. “You know what I do.”

  “I know.” She’d helped design more than a few of the ones he used most, according to what Zoey had said. “Why so far out?”

  “Because the underground portion of the compound started a quarter mile back,” Mary said. “Bravo Two and Bravo Three are clear to continue to phase two.”

  Were Fallon and Rhea behind because she’d slowed him down? Worry quickened Rhea’s steps when they continued forward, but Fallon reached back and grabbed her waist with his hand as he slowed them. Her pulse quickened as they arrived at the building’s entryway.

  Drones flitted past them and approached the glass panes of the massive entryway.

  “Security bypassed,” Zoey said.

  “Standby. Beginning secondary security override,” Cord said.

  Rhea understood enough lingo from previous missions to know Zoey and Cord had hacked into the facility’s security feeds and taken control. Cord would loop surveillance footage from there, which would give Rhea, Fallon, and the rest of his team freedom to move about the building unseen on footage, just in case it survived the final phase of tonight’s plan.

  Fallon entered the building via the door as Walker and Sanchez came out of the control room. Each dragged a security guard. Rhea checked one of the worries off her mental list—no one would be in the building when it was destroyed.

  Although satellite imagery had scanned the facility, detailed plans of the interior were unavailable. A rough estimate of the facility’s size below-ground had been obtained, but nothing more. Drones whizzed back and forth around them.

  “We’ve got two sub-levels accessible via an elevator to the right one hundred feet from your current location,” Zoey said. “Bravo Two and Four are on the lowest level.”

  “Roger. En route to level one,” Fallon said.

  Rhea remained quiet as they entered the elevator and clicked the button with a bright yellow number one. Her heart thundered wildly in her chest when Fallon drew his primary weapon. She glanced down at the backup weapon, the one he’d worn for her use.

  She hoped to hell she didn’t need it.

  “You’re doing good,” Fallon said, his voice a low whisper which echoed in the confined space. He pulled a small bag from one of the many pockets in his pants. “You remember the plan for these?”

  Rhea unzipped it and nodded as she mentally counted the thumb drives. “I put one in every terminal we see so Zoey and Cord can access them via HERA.”

  Drones would record every inch of the facility, but it would be up to Rhea and Fallon to find any documentation tucked away in filing cabinets or other secured areas. She was the brains in the field to identify what was critical intel and what wasn’t.

  If any compounds or other biochemical agents were found, it was up to her to evaluate their threat level and secure samples, if possible. Otherwise, everything would be destroyed upon their departure.

  “There’s a secured entry requiring a bio scan at the western corner of the facility,” Donovan said. “Request permission to force entry.”

  “Standby,” Mary said. “Bravo One?”

  “Don’t,” Rhea blurted. Fallon glanced back at her. Brows furrowed, he waited. “We don’t know what’s behind that door. If it’s a biological weapon, it could react to a forced entry.”

  “I’m not sure whether to be impressed she’s thinking far enough ahead to keep our asses safe, or insulted she thinks we’d have a messy entry,” Donovan said.

  “Maintain your position. We’ll make our way down there,” Fallon said.

  “Roger.”

  Rhea expected they’d head directly to Donovan’s location, but Fallon continued the methodical sweep of the first level. Drones circled within each room, recording anything they saw. Rhea opened the filing cabinets and drawers, glancing through any documents as she left them visible for the drones.

  Papers were everywhere, spread out with Fallon’s rapid, yet methodical progression through each room. How many times had he done something like this?

  “Any of this important?” Fallon asked.

  “No, the past three rooms have all been billing, payroll, and purchasing. Supplies, mostly. Maybe something in the last room would be informative if they’re hard-to-get compounds,” Rhea said. She glanced at the documents Fallon had fanned out. Hopefully the thumb drives she’d inserted would be more useful.

  “Wait. This is…” Rhea paused and read more. “Weird.”

  “We need a bit more than weird,” Mary said. One of the drones loomed by Rhea.

  “What are we looking at?” Jesse asked.

  “Feed logs,” Rhea said. She rifled through the next folder Fallon hadn’t opened yet as dread settled in her gut. “I think I know what’s behind that door below us. At least, one of the things down there.”

  “Doc…” Fallon said, his voice a booming warning to think faster.

  “They’ve got feed logs for a chimpanzee here,” Rhea said.

  “And?” Donovan asked.

  “They’re the closest to humans genetically. Their use in laboratory experiments was banned long ago, though,” Rhea said, her stomach ill as her mind ran through the what-ifs. “We need to get downstairs. That’s where everything important will be.”

  “We do this by the numbers, one room at a time,” Fallon said. “Once we leave, nothing in here will be readable again.”

  Right. Rhea forced her attention to the task at hand—clearing each room on the level. Fortunately, the first sub-level was somewhat small and mostly administrative in nature. By the time they re-entered the elevator and headed toward the lower level, twenty-four minutes had passed.

  Was that a good time? Had she been too slow?

  4

  Fallon didn’t like taking Rhea down to the lower level. Everything in him screamed she had no business in the facility. Everything Carlisle built was based on the brilliant woman’s designs. Having the woman herself in his clutches…

  Fallon shoved the thought away.

  No one would get Rhea. The Arsenal wouldn’t allow it.

  He wouldn’t allow it.

  But tonight had been too easy.

  Three guards. Minimal surveillance easily bypassed by Cord and Zoey. Sure, The Arsenal was the best around, but Edge’s words haunted him. Carlisle wasn’t the typical asshole—he was like Bree and Rhea. If the two women went rogue, would they be so easily taken down?

  Fuck no.

  He exited the elevator and silently cursed the awareness tingling along his back where her thumb grazed his skin. Donovan offered a chin lift from down a long corridor. Though he wanted to close the distance, blow the secured door, and get some answers he knew Rhea would want to inspect the contents of the rooms.

  She angled toward the first door on the left. A growl rolled from him and she froze. Heat rose up her cheeks. Fuck, she was beautiful. Her brown eyes widened as she motioned for him to proceed in front of her.

  Schematics filled the rightmost wall. Fallon glanced that direction, but knew HERA had the data. Donovan had already swept the rooms. Papers were fanned out along the desk’s surface and all along the floor. Thumb drives flashed from the computers.

  Rhea extricated herself from her appointed position at his back and knelt before the fanned-out mess. He placed himself between her and the door and silently willed her to hurry up as unease crawled along his neck.

  Fuck.

  He’d survived longer than most in his profession by trusting his instincts. He tapped the code he’d created for his team into the wrist apparatus he
wore. “Edge.”

  “Understood,” she replied.

  “Huh?” Zoey asked. “He signaled there was trouble. I don’t see any trouble.”

  Fallon was thankful Edge was present because they’d worked together long enough for him not to waste time explaining things. He focused on the silence around him, the stillness in the air.

  Stillness.

  “There’s no air conditioning on down here,” Fallon said.

  “System readouts indicate it’s on,” Cord said.

  “Which means the secondary level is on a different system,” Zoey added. Muttered curses filled the com. “Of course the assholes would have an invisible secondary system. Things can’t ever be easy when you’re involved, Graves.”

  “Let’s go. We need to see what’s in that lab. These are schematics for biochemical housings—storage devices and triggers. Did we get all these scanned with the drones?” Rhea asked.

  “Yes,” Edge said.

  Fallon glanced down at Rhea as she chewed her lip and peered up at him. Fuck. She didn’t trust the drones to get the details. “Walker, make your way to our location. Gather up all these papers.”

  Relief shone on Rhea’s face immediately. He’d take the whole damn facility to make her happy. Fallon didn’t understand why he was so drawn to the woman, but he didn’t fight the need to protect her. He’d fallen short on keeping people important to him safe too many times.

  And Rhea was important to him because she was more like him than most. He recognized the darkness in her gaze, the haunted soul buried beneath the brilliant veneer everyone else saw.

  She didn’t shy away from the darkness he and his team thrived within.

  “Roger,” Walker said.

  “Let’s go,” Fallon said.

  Rhea stood and wrapped her fingers around his belt loop once again. He made his way toward Donovan, but bypassed the one room between them and the secured area. “Secure the contents of the second room as well.”

  “Roger,” Sanchez said.

  “Need me down there, boss?” Spade asked.

  “Negative. Remain in overwatch. My skin is crawling,” Fallon said.