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Search & Destroy (Outbreak Task Force)

Page 10

by Julie Rowe


  She met the eyes of every man in her office. Her gaze rested a second longer on John. He gave her a small nod. That tiny movement provided an additional rush of energy, support, and encouragement.

  She spoke to DS first. “I’m going to need more people down there. Bring me a list of everyone who’s not already out on assignment or off sick and can otherwise drop what they’re doing to help get this disaster under control.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, turning and running out.

  She looked at Dr. Gunner. “Are you and Joy recovered enough to assist?”

  “Abso—” he began.

  “No, we’re not.” Joy pushed her way into the office and sent a glare at Gunner. “Not if there’s a chance of more violence. Especially not if you’re planning to go down there yourself. Are you?”

  “That’s not entirely my decision to make.”

  Joy crossed her arms over her chest as if she had no doubt about the outcome of the decision. “You’ll need someone here at headquarters to keep things running smoothly.” Joy pointed at Gunner and herself. “We can do that.”

  Carmen said, “Give me a minute to speak with the director.”

  They nodded and took a step or two back.

  Her call to her boss was answered on the first ring.

  “Carmen, good,” he said, his tone brisk. “Have you heard about the explosion at Orlando General Hospital?”

  “Yes, sir. I just spoke with a member of my team who was there. Her partner was killed in the blast. Our additional people had just arrived, but I don’t know their condition.” The words sliced and stabbed at her throat on their way out. “I’m assuming the worst.”

  “I agree. We need to treat this as a hostile environment. I have Florida’s Surgeon General on another line. She’s asking for the highest level of assistance possible from us.”

  Warm energy surged through her at his words. “I’m very happy to hear that, sir.”

  “With a possible measles outbreak in two separate sites—”

  “Three,” Carmen interrupted. “A hospital in Titusville just reported two suspected cases.”

  He acknowledged that new information with a grunt. “And now a bombing at one hospital,” he continued. “Coordinating our response is going to take extra effort. I’d like you to head it up personally. We can’t afford any mistakes. Clear communication is going to be key in keeping this health threat from getting past us.”

  “I agree wholeheartedly.”

  “Good. Do you have someone who can help coordinate some of the work here at the office? This is a situation where we need all hands on deck.”

  “Yes, sir. Dr. Gunner Anderson and his partner Joy Ashiro have volunteered to remain here.”

  “Excellent. Keep me apprised of events as they happen and call if you need anything you can’t authorize on your own. This is your show.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Carmen hung up the phone and studied her people. “We’re to treat this as a high-level threat. I’ll be flying out with our A-package medical support unit.” She focused on Gunner and Joy. “Whatever you’re working on, put it on hold and come back here so I can go over things with you.”

  Gunner looked like he’d just tasted something extremely sour.

  “Gunner,” Carmen said, stressing his name.

  His gaze snapped to her face.

  “I need someone competent, confident, and who can’t be bullied by anyone else to cover for me here.”

  “Don’t blow hot air up my skirt,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m not that kind of girl.”

  Carmen narrowed her eyes at Gunner. “I don’t give false praise. I need you here. With Joy backing you up, I won’t have to worry about messages getting lost or crossed, supplies and equipment will be managed properly, and there isn’t an intimidation tactic in the world that can ruffle your feathers.”

  He didn’t look mollified in the slightest. “Still feels a little warm on this side of the desk.”

  Prickly. She shrugged. “Put on some sunscreen and get back to work.”

  A smile broke his cool facade. “Another good one.” He glanced from her to John and back, his expression speculative. “You two sure are on the same frequency.”

  “Yeah, well,” John said with a shrug. “I’ve always wanted to be a bad influence.”

  He certainly wasn’t going to like her next order. “John, I want you to stay here and help Gunner and Joy.”

  As she suspected, his sense of humor went completely and immediately AWOL. “I’m coming with you.” His tone was final.

  Too bad he wasn’t the one in charge. “John, Rawley is my liaison. Your injuries preclude you from undertaking this investigation.” Because there would be one. A big, messy, sphincter-tightening search for those responsible.

  He took a step closer and leaned toward her. “Rawley can have the investigation. I’ll be busy protecting you.”

  She shook her head. “You’re not medically cleared for any kind of work—”

  “I don’t give a shit if I’m cleared or not,” he interrupted. “You’re not going to an active outbreak site that’s also been targeted by terrorists without someone looking after your security. I may not be fit enough to investigate, but I don’t need to be one hundred percent healthy to watch your back.”

  She wasn’t going to let him throw his life away. “John—”

  “Let him look after your security,” DS said as he walked into the room. “He’s right. Those two goons who tried to pick you up at the airport weren’t looking for your favorite cookie recipe. The second you show your face in Florida, you’ll be an even bigger target than you already are.”

  Carmen snapped her mouth shut. She didn’t want John in danger, but she also knew he’d fight her on this. He’d made up his mind, and nothing short of locking him up would stop him. The stubborn idiot.

  “Dress him up like he’s one of your lab people, and he’ll fly under everyone’s radar,” DS continued. “I have a dozen people prepping to head to Orlando, and Rawley’s on his way here.”

  Rawley was going to squawk. “We also need to establish better security at the affected hospitals,” she said. “I don’t want another bomb taking out any more people.”

  “That’s Rawley’s job,” DS said.

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  Her cell phone rang with the CDC director’s ring tone. Carmen answered it, hitting the speaker-phone icon before the first ring finished.

  “Rodrigues.”

  “You’re good to go,” the CDC Director said. “The Florida Surgeon General has also mobilized a National Guard medical unit to join us. They’ll be providing medical and security assistance.”

  “We’ll need them.” The weight of what had happened, the loss of life, and the sheer terror the people in that hospital had to be under froze her vocal chords. She stopped to catch her breath. “We’ve lost some people, sir.” She gazed into John’s eyes and saw a determination there that could withstand an ice age. “It’s been suggested I take a bodyguard.”

  “Who did the suggesting?”

  “John Dozer.”

  “Who did he suggest?”

  “John Dozer.”

  The director sighed. “Is he in any shape for it?”

  “He thinks he is.”

  A snort. “I admire the man’s courage and dedication, but I’ve got to wonder just how many times his mother dropped him on his head when he was a baby.”

  John rolled his eyes.

  “I’ve wondered the same thing, sir.”

  “Well”—another sigh, one heavy with suffering—“it’s up to you, as long as you have someone keeping you from dying of anything other than old age.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Keep me in the loop, Carmen. This has the potential to explode in our faces.”

  “I will, sir.”

  “Good luck,” he said, then ended the call.

  John told her very seriously, “My mother was always careful when
carrying me around. She never once dropped me on my head.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “She paddled my ass a few times for doing stupid shit, but…” He shrugged.

  If he thought that was going to convince her to take him with her, he really had hit his head too hard. “Maybe it’s all the times you knocked your head on the ground, then, because walking into the chaos down there with cracked ribs and a concussion isn’t a good idea.”

  “You need someone dedicated to your security,” he growled.

  “I’m not disputing that. I just don’t think it should be you.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “Who, then?”

  “DS is pretty good at that stuff.”

  “Stuff?” John asked, his voice rising. “Stuff? This is your life we’re discussing. Your health and…and happiness.”

  “No,” she said baldly. “This isn’t about just one person. Your health is just as important as anyone else’s.” I won’t allow you to sacrifice yourself for me. She wanted to say it, but those words would tell him more than she wanted about how she felt about him. Enough for him to use her feelings against her.

  Carmen deliberately turned her back, sat down in her chair, and regarded her computer. In order to have all her people ready to fly down, she had a mountain of emails to send.

  Her office door closed with a soft snick.

  The angrier John was, the quieter he got. She winced—she hadn’t heard him leave, just the door closing. He must be furious. Well, he could just suck it up. She was going to make sure he got healthy. Whether he liked it or not.

  Her chair was jerked around, surprising her into a gasp. “What?”

  John stood over her, his hands braced on the arms of her chair. His teeth were bared, and his eyes practically glowed with anger and need.

  His hands closed around her upper arms, and he pulled her to her feet.

  “John—” She had no idea what she was going to say, but it didn’t matter, because he leaned down and took her mouth in a furious kiss.

  He tasted so good, a rich coffee and dark chocolate mixed with a flavor all his own. She was addicted to him, and one hit was all it took to make her lose her mind.

  Damn him. Damn him.

  His kiss lit her on fire, and the heat of it melted the icy rage and fear she’d been carrying around in the pit of her stomach since Jean’s phone call. She’d been so cold for much longer than that, and now all she wanted was to handcuff the man to her so she never had to wonder where he was, so she could warm herself with his hot kisses.

  If she let him come with her, he’d be in danger.

  But was he in any less danger if he stayed?

  Was anywhere safe?

  She buried her hands in his hair. Although he had both of his arms wrapped around her, she was the one directing their kiss.

  Damn it.

  “You are a menace to my thinking,” she told him with heat.

  “Since you do the same to me,” he growled, “I’m thinking we’re even.” He leaned down until he was nose to nose with her. “I’m coming with you.”

  She pinched her lips together. “You don’t get to tell me what I can or can’t do, Agent Dozer.” If he couldn’t deal with the fact she didn’t have to follow his orders, no part of a relationship between them could work.

  He stared at her, his breath washing over her face, like a man possessed. Then he blinked, and his expression changed. His hands gentled, and he slowly drew them across her back, massaging her muscles as they passed, until he was barely touching her at all. His gaze turned somber, and his mouth softened.

  “I’m fucking this up, aren’t I?”

  She’d have answered him, but she wasn’t entirely sure what he meant by this.

  He gave her a sad smile and said the last word she ever expected to hear from him: “Please.”

  Chapter Twelve

  12:03 p.m.

  Someone knocked on Carmen’s door.

  Just as well. Dozer was certain she wasn’t going to say anything he wanted to hear. He stepped back, straightened her shirt, then made sure his own clothing was presentable before he went to the door and opened it.

  DS and Rawley stood waiting. DS looked bored, while Rawley held himself so rigidly he almost looked like he was made of bone china. One tap and he’d shatter.

  He made himself smile, and, fuck a duck, it hurt. “Dr. Rodrigues has been expecting you.”

  Rawley ignored him and shouldered his way past him like he was a wide receiver with the ball and only a few feet from the goal line.

  DS shook his head and also came into the room.

  “I just received a preliminary account of the dead from the bombings,” Rawley said to Carmen. “Twenty-three people. Eight of those worked for the CDC. If you’d talked to me before sending them, maybe I could have prevented those losses.” His tone made it clear he blamed her for the deaths.

  After glancing at Carmen’s face, Dozer decided closing the door might be wise.

  DS leaned over and whispered, “I’m going to need popcorn for this one.”

  Why was it that every single person standing in this office had a short fuse, including him?

  Carmen stood and smiled at Rawley. It sent a shiver up his spine. DS was right. She was going to turn the other Homeland agent inside out.

  “I didn’t need to talk to you. I discussed the situation with your supervisor before I ever knew you’d been assigned as my liaison. My people were doing their jobs, following every procedure and process in the CDC’s and Homeland’s books. Do you have a problem with those procedures and protocols?”

  Rawley didn’t speak for a couple of seconds. Then it was a low “No.”

  “Good.” She came around her desk to stand a few feet away from Rawley.

  The man turned to face her, his hands held loosely at his sides, like he was readying himself for a fight.

  Dozer looked at DS, then moved to flank Rawley on one side, while DS flanked him on the other.

  “Here’s what I need from you now,” Carmen said to him. “I’m sending another team to Orlando. This bomb blast has only magnified the potential of an outbreak. Unfortunately, the possibility of it being connected to terrorist activities raises the risk of another explosion to high. My people need more protection. I’m counting on you to organize and provide it.”

  Rawley frowned, then tilted his head to one side. “What about investigating the bomber?”

  “I believe that also falls under your purview,” she said.

  His frown intensified. He pointed at Dozer. “What about him?”

  She sighed. “He’s coming along as my personal bodyguard.” She regarded Dozer. “That is all you’re authorized to be responsible for.”

  Relief made him dizzy, and he had to brace his legs a little farther apart to keep upright. “Understood, ma’am.”

  Rawley gaped at him, suspicion all too easy to read on his face. Finally, he turned back to Carmen. “I have a few logistical questions.”

  “Excellent. Do you have them ready now or would you like to send them via email?”

  He studied DS and Dozer before saying, “I’ll email them to you. Is it okay if I set up my laptop in your break room for now?”

  Dozer cleared his throat. “The liaison has an office just down the hall. It’s full of my crap, but it’s got everything you need to do what you need to do.”

  “I’ll show him,” DS said, taking a step toward the door. “Come on, Homeland.”

  Eyes narrowed, Rawley looked at each of them for a second, then said, slowly, “Okay.”

  DS led the way out. Once Rawley was gone and far enough away that he couldn’t overhear them, Dozer turned back to her. Her face was closed off and unreadable.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that.”

  Though he expected the apology to pacify her, anger twisted her lush lips. “Shut up.” She went around to sit behind her desk again, giving him her back. “Get ready to move out.”

  His jaw drop
ped in shock, followed closely by indignation. He’d apologized. Goddamnit. “How did I piss in your oatmeal this time?”

  Her head snapped up, and she whirled around in her chair, baring her teeth at him. “If you’re sorry for kissing me, fine. But next time you get angry, punch a pillow or something.”

  Hold up. She thought…what?

  “I’m not sorry for kissing you. What I’m sorry for is grabbing you like some prehistoric asshole right before I kissed you.”

  Her expression didn’t change.

  She didn’t believe him.

  “Fuck it.” He leaned over the desk, slid one hand behind her head so she couldn’t retreat, and kissed her again. She opened her lips as soon as his tongue slid along the seam of her mouth, and he drank her in. She tasted better than any whiskey and went to his head faster than any drug. The little moans that rose out of her throat made him want to tug her onto the desk so he could strip her and take her right then and there.

  Except, the door was open, and any lab lizard or asshole agent could walk in and catch them.

  He pulled away slowly. “I’m not sorry for any part of that kiss, either.”

  Her cheeks were red, and her lips were swollen, and she was so angry he could almost see the steam coming out of her ears. “I hate you.”

  God, he loved getting her riled up. He smiled and kissed her nose. “I hate you too, doc.” He released her and stepped back. “I’m going to get my shit together. What’s our ETD?”

  “I don’t know,” she snapped, her narrowed gaze attempting to burn a hole through his head. “Maybe two hours.”

  Nope, she wasn’t going to calm down any time soon.

  “That works.” He paused in the doorway. “Are you going to squawk if I put you in body armor?”

  “As long as it will fit under my hazmat suit,” she said, her smile razor-sharp. “I’m fine with it.”

  His smile turned into a full-fledged grin. “Outstanding.”

  He left her staring at him like he was an unknown pathogen and she was the only antibiotic capable of shutting him down.

  Dozer strolled down the hall and into his office.

  Old office?

  Shared office? Whatever.

  Rawley was sitting behind the desk, typing and talking on the phone at the same time. He glanced at Dozer as he walked in, but when Dozer waved him off and proceeded to grab a go-bag off the floor, he turned his attention to the two tasks he was doing at once.

 

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