The Transporter

by Maverick, Liz

  The corner seat was occupied by Geo, wearing his signature combat boots and sunglasses, the latter to hide a pair of the deadliest-looking eyes Shane had ever seen.

  Romeo was at the big sofa looking over a fistful of red files. He had dark moons under his eyes and was wearing a long-sleeved T-shirt with sweatpants—not his usual look.

  Chase came in next and took a seat on Shane’s right. “You sticking around long?”

  Shane’s mind moved to Cecily so fast he almost gave his own brain whiplash. If Roth needed him, he’d stay as long as that took. If Cecily needed him—hell, he’d stick around just to see her settle in safe. He knew he would. “We’ll see what’s on Roth’s plate. But you can bet I’ll be here long enough to take all your cash in Hold’em.”

  “That’s what I like about you, Shane. Your blind optimism.”

  Shane snorted. “You know what I like about you, Chase? Your shitty poker face.”

  Dex appeared in the doorway, balancing awkwardly with his leg in the brace, and shot Shane a pissed look before taking a seat at the computer up front next to Roth. If Shane was hoping for any sort of thanks from his friend for taking care of Cecily, it didn’t appear he was going to get anything close. What the fuck?

  Cecily must’ve said something. That surprised him. She balked at the idea of Dex knowing anything about her sex life, so there was nothing to tell him. Maybe if any of what went down on the road had actually meant something, that’d be one thing, but there wasn’t. They had a road trip. They fooled around a little. She was safe, and they were over before they’d ever really started. End of story. No use getting Dex riled up.

  Shane sighed. He’d find him after the meeting and clear the air.

  Once Flynn entered and closed the door behind him, Rothgar wasted no time. “Let’s get on with it. It’s been a while since we’ve all been in one place.” He touched an index finger to his temple and then pointed it in Shane’s direction. A murmur of welcomes passed around the room, giving Shane an oddly warm feeling, like maybe these guys really were brothers and maybe this really was home. I should come home more often.

  When the room quieted, Rothgar said, “Some of you know all of the details, and all of you know some of the details, but let me catch everyone up-to-date. About one year ago, I took a contract from the US government to help uncover a cell of Russian sleeper agents. They were able to give me next to nothing as far as starting information. Members of our team have been laying the groundwork for a long time just to get some suspects, some names, some initial evidence to point us in the right direction. The break in the case came when we outed Yakov Petrenko, a.k.a. James Peterson. He’s the handler for this cell—makes sure the agents get what they were promised and get what they need to continue their charade in this country. James is aware of us and, in fact, has been trying to get counterintelligence, if you will, on our team through Dex’s sister, Cecily. But we don’t think he knows that we know the game he’s been playing; we don’t think he knows he’s been made.”

  Shane shifted in his chair, listening to Rothgar do the rundown. It should have felt like any other mission briefing, but this still felt personal. He wanted to flip the switch, go back to the man he was before Cecily, but he just couldn’t think of her as simply a file detail in a case to be solved.

  “If we didn’t need to supply a healthy stack of evidence to the government, I’d send Geo in to take care of this shithead just for that.”

  Somebody went, “Ooooh,” and everybody swiveled around and looked at Geo, who didn’t move a muscle and showed no actual signs of life.

  Rothgar continued. “But we took on a job and we’re going to deliver. So, we’re going to focus on building an ironclad evidence file against our first name. Low-hanging fruit, because she’s not even trying to pass as something other than Russian. Anya Gorchakov. Like I said, we believe James is her handler, so we’ll be able to pull evidence in on him at the same time, but we don’t want to take him out of action unnecessarily, since he may be our link to other agents on the list.”

  That didn’t sit well with Shane. He fumed for a minute, trusting Rothgar to make the right decision but hating the idea that they couldn’t pull James in immediately, because he might lead them to the other agents.

  “If it goes well,” Rothgar said, “we might get the contract to work on the rest of the suspected ring. The government has specified we can use any means necessary, and, as you know, that either means they’ve tried and failed within the constraints of what they consider to be the law, or they know enough to know they should punt to freelancers immediately.”

  “Cold War’s back,” Romeo said with a grin. “Maybe this means action movies get good again.”

  “Not exactly,” Rothgar said. “But we’re part of the plan to keep it back in the eighties where it belongs. The Russians like to play the long game, get agents embedded in everyday life, put them into action against the United States years later. Our game is to weed them out before they even get a chance to work against us. We know they’ve already got spies hacking into election results, transportation hubs, corporate networks, and the like. And we know they’ve put people on the ground to build relationships and position themselves to gain access into areas of influence. The big bad isn’t here, but that’s because the government’s hiring people like us to stop it before it grows.”

  Rothgar opened a bottled water and took a long draft.

  “We’re putting more of our own guys on the job than we probably need, going light on freelancers. Just to cross all the t’s, dot the i’s. It won’t change your cut.” He paused and crossed his arms over his chest. “That said, I also want to remind you that if you don’t feel like risking—”

  Somebody booed and then the whole room took it up. Roth cracked a smile and tried to speak again. A wad of crumpled paper hit him square in the chest amid an even louder roar of dissention. “Quit with the disclaimers, Roth. You’ve got our backs; we’ve got yours,” Shane said when the noise quieted down. “Besides, I’m not the only one who still owes you.”

  Roth held up his palm. “Fine, then. This one’s gonna bring in a serious chunk of change. Something nice for those of you working on nest eggs, and something nice for those of you who just want to blow it all.”

  Laughter rang out.

  “Hey, Shane,” Chase called out. “Which one are you now?”

  Shane felt Dex’s gaze swing over.

  Rothgar continued. “Just don’t get yourself killed. Not to be selfish, but you’re not easily replaceable. I’m still in the planning mode, but I’ll come to each of you with details, and then we’ll do a project meeting.” He looked up. “Oh, and an official welcome back to Shane.” He looked over at Dex. “And welcome to Dex’s sister, Cecily. Goes without saying she’s off-limits.”

  “Maybe you should’ve said that a little earlier,” Romeo said.

  Nick raised an eyebrow. “Careful, Romeo.”

  Romeo blinked, all innocence. “You can downshift that look, brother. I’m not about to accelerate on Dex’s sister, here, but you might have to put the brakes on someone else.”

  “Is there something here we need to cover?” Dex asked Shane through his teeth.

  Shane shot Romeo a look of death.

  “Let’s break for twenty, and then we’ll get to work on the specifics of the mission,” Rothgar said, his voice cutting into the tension like a knife. He gave Shane an irritated look. “What the fuck” is right, thought Shane. He turned back to deal with Dex, but he’d already left.

  When Shane stepped into the hall, Cecily was standing there listening to her brother, rubbing the palm of one hand with her thumb, her lower lip caught in her top teeth. Her forehead was wrinkled. She wasn’t smiling.

  Not his job or his place anymore. Shane walked on. Nervous gestures. No light in those baby blues. Without breaking his stride, he just wheeled around and headed back.

  “But I hadn’t read any e-mail since I left Minneapolis, and some were marked as r
ead,” she was saying. “Some of the ones that were from actual people and not spam.”

  “And you changed your password?” Dex asked.

  She nodded, then caught sight of Shane. “Hi,” she said softly.

  “Hi. There a problem?” Shane asked.

  “Got it covered,” Dex said, problem written all over his face.

  “James bugging you?” he asked Cecily.

  Dex raised an eyebrow. “I said I got it covered. It’s a computer thing.”

  “Right. Got that,” Shane said evenly. “I was just asking Cecily if James was still bugging her.”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “It’s weird. I think maybe he’s reading my e-mail even though I know I changed my password just before I left.”

  Damn. That was definitely Dex’s territory. “You need anything from me, you just ask,” he told her. He gave Dex a nod. “I still got your back.”

  Dex stared at him and then looked at his sister, who looked slightly maniacal, what with her big, bright, fake smile.

  Shane left in flames, itching to talk to Cecily some more, feeling the strange barrier of Dex’s protection, like his chance was gone, the opportunity over.

  Seemed like she didn’t need him for anything. Not anymore.

  In a week, job done, it will be like we’d never met. Like we never kissed. I’ll start going invisible again. And I’ll be relieved. I’ll miss the feel of the road, the steering wheel in my hands, the power of my car under my control. And I’ll disappear.

  CHAPTER 16

  With Dex less than receptive to clearing the air about Cecily, Shane went back to his room in the officer’s quarters. He still hadn’t unpacked. Just left his stuff in the middle of the floor. He didn’t own much, and the place was Spartan, at best. Some of the other guys had put in the time to make their rooms a home; some of them had even combined more than one room to make a sweet pad.

  Cecily would be good at that. She’d probably take one look at this place and roll up her sleeves, and the next thing he knew the tin ceiling would be polished, the walls cheerfully painted, that stuffed rabbit she’d been carrying around in her purse would be hogging the blanket, and art would suddenly color the walls.

  Shane paused a moment, weighing his thoughts, waiting to feel annoyed by this imaginary impertinence of hers, waiting to feel violated. But in that moment, all he could think was that he was used to Cecily’s presence next to him in the car, and the right side of his body suddenly had too much fucking space.

  Knock-knock. “Shane, you in there?”

  Shane opened the door, and Missy barreled in, phone in hand, index finger ready to take notes.

  “Your phone’s off again,” Missy said. “How the hell do you do business with the phone off?”

  “Not taking any jobs right now,” he said. “And I’m in walking radius of anybody else who needs me.”

  “I don’t get it. Most people can’t pull themselves away from the phone. Most people sit at their boring old office jobs and think of things they don’t need to do with their phone and do them just so they can sit and poke at their damn phone. You, you go around doing the most dangerous things you can think of and don’t even wonder if your phone’s on for backup. Anyway, I think it’s brilliant you’re finally home. Hope you stay for longer this time.” She swiped a fingertip across the empty top of the bureau and grimaced. “Oh, jeez.” Then she turned and looked around. “Do you want stuff for the fridge?”

  “Bottled water would be great.”

  “Snacks?”

  “A box of those energy bars.”

  “I know the ones. Booze?”

  “A bottle of red,” he said without thinking.

  Missy raised an eyebrow, waiting for . . . clarification? She wasn’t going to get any. “A bottle of red wine,” she repeated, fingertip hovering. “What kind?”

  It doesn’t matter. Right? It doesn’t matter, Shane. “Um, merlot or . . . whatever,” he heard himself say.

  “Merlot.” She stared at him. A small smile played on her lips. She was dying, dying to ask more questions. Because he did not do merlot. But Shane’d known Missy since the inception of the Hudson Kings, and if she knew anything was sacred to him, she knew it was his privacy. “And your usual?” she finally continued.

  “I’m trying to cut back.”

  She waited. “I’ll bring a small,” she finally said. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Missy scratched the tip of her nose, studying his face.

  Nothing’s off about me. I’m nothing if not consistent. I’m exactly the same as always. Nothing has changed.

  “I guess you’re always a little weird coming off a long road trip. Especially when you’ve had bodies in the car,” she said. “So what’s up with you and Dex? He was shooting daggers at you at the meeting.”

  Shane wasn’t exactly saved from answering by the sudden pounding on his door.

  Dex apparently didn’t give a shit about Shane’s legendary privacy. He’d hobbled over on his bad knee, fire in his brains, looking like if he’d brought a weapon with him he’d have used it. Shane’s door opened so hard it slammed against the wall inside the room.

  “Holy . . . ,” said Missy, moving away from the inevitable crossfire, but in true Missy style, not actually leaving.

  In lieu of bullets, Dex fired words. “I asked you because I trusted you.”

  “And?”

  “You took a job on the way. And Cecily was there. What the fuck happened to ‘Point A to Point B’? Are you fucking insane? Do you have any idea how stupid that was? What if it went wrong? That’s my sister!”

  Holy fuck. He’s pissed about the job? “Is she here? Is she safe?” Shane asked.

  “That’s not the point. You were supposed to rescue her from that piece of shit, not set her up with a criminal record or a sheet in our enemy’s database! What if someone was watching you?” Dex said, getting up in Shane’s face.

  “If you have a problem with someone watching me, you probably shouldn’t ask me to drag your sister into frame. Not to mention, she was there because she put herself there. Or maybe, I should say, she was there because you put her there. She was with James in the first place because he figured out you were part of the Hudson Kings team and thought he could get to you through her.”

  They both knew what he was suggesting: Dex was a weak link. Dex put his sister in danger. A look of pure guilt passed across Dex’s features . . . before it switched to pure anger. “Fuck you, Shane.”

  “You’re welcome, Dex. Are we done, or did you want to share a pot of tea and some scones in the kitchen?”

  “Fuck you, Shane.”

  Shane stared at Dex, debating his next move, oddly territorial about Cecily. “Missy, get out. Now.”

  Missy walked out the door and closed it behind her.

  “Your hands shake, Dex,” Shane said.

  “What?”

  “I said, ‘Your hands shake.’”

  Dex stared at him, then looked around wildly, trying to figure out the connection, and finally looked down at his trembling fingers. He didn’t get it. “My sister mentioned that she had fun with you. I’m still trying to figure out how that word applies to you. You get that she’s on the rebound, right? She’s in a space where she’ll do things she’d never otherwise do, right?”

  Shane did not like the implication of that. And he had to wonder what exactly Cecily had told her brother about what they’d done on the road, if she didn’t tell him about her sex life.

  Dex flared up again—“You’ve been a good friend to me”—and then broke off like he suddenly wasn’t sure about the ending to that thought.

  “Yeah, thought we were good enough friends not to just drop it all at the first challenge,” Shane said, surprised at the amount of hurt he was actually feeling. See, all this shit, this was why he did better staying blank.

  “We’re talking about Cecily,” Dex stressed.

  “This convo is over,” Shane said, officially
shutting down. “You are not yourself. Haven’t been in months.”

  Dex shook his head in disgust and turned to the door.

  “I don’t think you’re listening,” Shane called. “If you’re smart, you’ll get someone to check your code.”

  “What the hell, man! This is not about me. Nice deflection.”

  “Your other option is to detox.”

  Dex’s face went white. “If you so much as touch my sister, I will take you down.”

  “Tell her not to make it so easy,” Shane shot back. Fuck! Not okay, man. What are you doing?

  But he didn’t make it right, and a long, long, long silence was the only response his rude accusation earned.

  “Wow,” Dex finally said, looking stunned.

  Shane braced for the inevitable punch. He’d let Dex have it. Wouldn’t lift a finger in defense. But Dex was still staring at him, and the shock and hurt on his face stung worse than his fist ever would.

  “What did you do?” Dex asked, too quiet, too grim.

  “Cecily’s an adult. Why don’t you talk to your sister, see if she’s got any concerns?”

  “What. Did. You. Do?”

  Just as quiet, just as grim, Shane said, “I didn’t do anything to her. Far’s I can tell, I’ve only been doing things for her. Since the day I picked her up.” You gotta apologize for that earlier crack, Shane. Out of line.

  The two men stared at each other, Dex clearly trying to decide his move, Shane still a little surprised he hadn’t already made one—with his fists.

  Footsteps and voices down the hall got louder. Beyond relieved at the interruption, Shane opened the door to Nick and Chase passing by.

  “Break’s over,” Chase said.

  The tension in the room was not lost on anybody. Chase and Nick looked around and then looked at each other.

  “Guys,” Nick urged. “We got a job to do.”

  Shane and Dex followed him out, neither one speaking; Shane fell in with Chase while Nick fell back with Dex.

  “Not going to ask if you’re fine,” Chase said.