by Tawny Weber
Nerves danced a quick jig in her stomach, but Darby warned herself not to jump to any conclusions. The US Attorney’s office worked with the military all the time. Maybe Paul was simply here to recommend her for a case.
He’d been so angry when she’d finally convinced him that they were through that she couldn’t imagine he’d want to work with her. Unless this was a ploy to change her mind.
See, Darby thought, this just proved that she and relationships were a bad fit.
She angled a questioning look toward her boss. As he argued with someone over the phone, the burly bullnecked man stabbed a finger at an empty chair, then jabbed it her way.
Resting her hips carefully on the seat’s rim—Bill Carson didn’t believe in wasting funds on decent furniture—to prevent the rough plastic from scratching her leather skirt, Darby leaned on the armrest for balance and gave the man sitting next to her an arch look.
Paul smiled back, his perfectly capped teeth gleaming against his perfectly tan face. His dark blond hair, just a hint longer than military regulations, was perfectly styled. The man was so studied in his perfection that she’d often wondered if he’d chosen the Navy because the white service uniform shirt looked better with his complexion than the Army’s khaki would have. From the polished gleam of his silver Lieutenant’s bars to the glossy shine of his black shoes, the man was obsessed with his image.
An image that didn’t take kindly to being dumped, she remembered. Anger had slapped his face with red splotches, narrowed those just-this-side-of-too-small eyes into slits and highlighted the fact that he had no upper lip.
So why was he here, sitting in the plastic chair next to her looking like he was perched on a throne.
Darby glanced at her boss again for a clue, but all she got in return was a blank stare. The man had one hell of a poker face.
“You wanted to see me, sir?” Darby said as soon as he hung up.
“You know Lieutenant Thomas from JAG,” Director Carson said in that melodious voice of his that was so at odds with his linebacker physique.
Darby relaxed enough to unclench her fingers. His use of Paul’s rank and referencing the Judge Advocate General’s office told her this was official business.
And if his expression was anything to go by, it was official business that the Deputy Director wasn’t on board with.
“Yes, sir. I do know Lieutenant Thomas.”
“He indicates that you’re also aware of the case that he’s brought to my attention.”
“What case is that?”
“A treason case against a Navy SEAL.” Darby’s stomach tumbled into her toes as Carson glanced down at the papers on his desk to check for a name. “One Lieutenant Ramsey.”
Darby frowned.
“On rare occasions, Lieutenant Thomas and I discussed a variety of hypothetical legal scenarios. But I don’t recall ever discussing any case linked with that particular name.”
Paul’s lips tightened at that denial, but Darby didn’t know if it was because he didn’t like her words, or the implication that he’d exaggerated.
“Given the nature of the charges, I wouldn’t have mentioned the name but we did discuss the case in general terms,” Paul insisted. “On a covert mission, a Navy SEAL was said to be killed in an explosion. Later, classified information that he had supposedly accessed was sold to terrorists.”
He snatched a file off the desk and handed it to her. At her boss’s nod, Darby flipped it open and started reading.
Remembering now, Darby nodded as she read the summary.
Lieutenant Brandon Ramsey, a decorated SEAL, was accused of a variety of treasonous acts. The most recent being the sale of a particularly nasty chemical weapon to a group of terrorists. He’d faked his own death. He had millions stashed in hidden accounts. And he was believed to have killed a fellow SEAL.
Her pulse jumped, but Darby kept her expression clear. No way was she going to let on how badly she’d love to be part of trying this case.
“Didn’t he have a son who was kidnapped in an attempt to draw him out? And charges are being brought against another officer for treason, kidnapping and child endangerment, correct?”
“That’s correct. The kidnapping and child endangerment of Nathan Maclean, as well as other charges, have already been brought against crewman Dane Adams by the Judge Advocate General’s office. Treason charges are pending action by the government.”
“And you’re here because you want the US Attorney’s office to bring treason charges against Lieutenant Ramsey, as well?” Not even the idea of working with Paul again could dim Darby’s excitement over the possibility of taking the lead on that case.
“No.” Paul wrapped his hands around his knee and smiled in a cat-munching-on-a-canary kind of way. “That isn’t my case. But I am instigating procedures to bring charges against a high-ranking Navy SEAL in conjunction with the Ramsey and Adams cases.”
“Lieutenant Thomas is requesting that our office consider this a case of treason,” Carson interjected. “He’d like us to initiate the charge of treason at the same time he brings his own charges.”
“Why is the timing an issue?”
“Because this particular officer has an almost mythic reputation,” Paul said. “He’s regarded as untouchable by many in command, so the timing will be particularly important as we’ll have to move on this case quickly, bringing all charges at once.”
“Apparently, this Lieutenant Commander Savino has a lot of people in his corner. Thomas is concerned that those people might use undue influence in regards to the trajectory of the case if charges are brought piecemeal,” Carson explained.
Her head was buzzing so loud, Darby could barely hear. But she had to force herself to ask the question. “Nic Savino?”
“What do you know about Nic Savino?” Paul snapped, straightening in his chair to give her a look dripping with suspicion.
“Do you know of, or do you have a relationship with the accused?” Carson asked.
Darby’s gut clenched in a vicious knot before taking a painful slide into her toes. Thankfully, years of courtroom training and a lifetime of general bitchiness assured her that none of that turmoil showed on her face when she glanced at her boss.
“I’ve met him,” she admitted carefully.
“Would knowing him be a conflict of interest in this case?” Carson asked, his eyes boring into her.
Would it? Darby’s mind raced. She was a professional. A woman who put her career ahead of everything and everyone. She and Nic had agreed that their relationship would only exist for the span of that week in Hawaii. They hadn’t shared a single piece of information about their personal lives or their careers. Still, given how she’d felt there toward the end, she was pretty sure she could make an argument either for or against conflict of interest.
So it all came down to what she wanted.
She wasn’t about to admit to a vacation affair, and the last person she wanted work with was Paul Thomas. But emotions aside, this case could—would—make her career. And if Nic was guilty of the charges—and she’d make damn well sure she thought he was before she brought them—then he wasn’t the man she’d thought he was. And he deserved to pay for his crimes.
“I don’t feel there would be a conflict of interest, no,” she said, hoping she wasn’t lying to all of them.
“Great,” Paul said, all but clapping his hands in appreciation. “Then we should get to work.”
“Not yet,” Carson said, lifting one hand. “Before we go any further, Ms. Raye, I’d like your initial thoughts on the merits of this case.”
“Without studying the evidence and charges?” Darby tried not to gulp. Practically, a case of this magnitude should take hours to weigh and consider. And that didn’t even take into account the emotional demand of bringing charges against a man she�
��d thought she was falling for. And Carson wanted her to give her opinion immediately?
“You can glance through the files,” he said, pushing another file across the desk with one sausage-size finger.
Darby felt as if she was being asked to get up on stage at Carnegie Hall and play after only one piano lesson. But she knew that was Carson’s style. He valued intuition in his attorneys, respected instincts and demanded fast thinking.
Proud that her fingers didn’t tremble when she reached for it, Darby opened the file. It only took a glance to confirm her suspicions. Paul was going after Nic Savino. Her heart dropped into her stomach as she read the list of accusations. Then, frowning, she set aside the file and opened the Ramsey file again.
* * *
THERE WASN’T ENOUGH evidence in these summaries for her to feel comfortable making a recommendation. Carson knew that, yet he’d asked for her opinion. Which meant he wanted her to look beyond the files.
Darby read through the files again, taking in every word in the skimpy folders twice. She was sure Paul had more. He had to. Given that he was making this request to Carson, he must have solid support up the chain of command. But she knew him well enough to conclude that he was like a dog with a bone, refusing to give it up even when it wasn’t right. If he’d had a solid case, why was he showing her so little evidence?
Darby took a deep breath and went with her gut.
“Sir, glancing at the case against both Lieutenant Brandon Ramsey and crewman Dane Adams, I see that neither the prosecution nor, more importantly, the defense, have brought up accomplices. I find it difficult to believe that eleven individuals were overlooked in the building of these cases.”
“Twelve,” Paul interjected, leaning forward in a way that seemed to block her from Carson’s view. As if he could negate her opinion. “There are twelve men in the Poseidon club.”
“Eleven,” Darby insisted, tapping her finger on the list of names. “Your own report states that Team Poseidon, under the auspices of Admiral Cree, is an eleven-man squad. The twelfth member was killed, presumably by Lieutenant Ramsey, in July.”
“Which doesn’t negate that they could all be in collusion. My findings are outlined in that presentation.” Paul jerked his chin toward the file still on Carson’s desk. He then proceeded to outline his findings, throwing out legal terms, military jargon and, in Darby’s opinion, bullshit concepts in the way of insecure men everywhere.
As if wrapping big words around his tiny claim could make it impressive. But she’d seen his tiny claim already and she was not impressed. And she definitely wasn’t going to risk her career on it.
“Sir,” Darby interjected as soon as Paul stopped for a breath, “based on what I’ve been shown so far, Lieutenant Thomas’s allegations aren’t strong enough to elicit our involvement. Unless he has more than he’s mentioned here, there is no evidence to support treason charges.”
“Based on what I’ve heard so far, and what I read in the file, I’d agree with your summation, Ms. Raye.”
Oh, thank God. The nasty knot of tension in Darby’s stomach started to unravel. As much as she’d love a big, juicy case, a tiny piece of her heart was relieved. Before her shoulders got the message to loosen up, though, he spoke again.
“But Lieutenant Thomas’s superiors believe differently and, with the support of Naval Intelligence, will be proceeding accordingly. With the full cooperation of our office.” Carson’s pale blue eyes stabbed into hers like ice. Cold and unyielding. Darby had worked under the man for less than a year. But she recognized a threat when she heard it.
“Sir, can I speak with you privately,” she asked without having a clue what she’d say if he agreed.
“He already ordered you to cooperate, Darby,” Paul snapped, giving Carson a look that said, Women.
Before Darby could give in to the urge to reach over and punch him, Carson jerked his chin at Paul. “You, wait outside.”
Darby watched the emotions chase each other over Paul’s face and wondered—not for the first time—why the guy had chosen a career in the military. Because he truly sucked at taking orders.
But after shooting her a fulminating look, he pushed to his feet and, shoulders stiff and chin high, strode out of the office.
“Asshole,” Carson muttered as soon as the door closed.
Darby’s lips twitched despite the gravity of the situation.
“Look, I know there’s personal issues on the table here.”
Oh, God. The room did a slow spin, everything going black, flashing white, then black again. Darby blinked, drew a long breath, then blinked again.
“Sir?”
“Look, you’re new here. So you probably don’t realize that nothing goes on in my office that I don’t eventually hear about,” Carson said, leaning forward on beefy elbows to clasp his hands on his desk. “I know you had a thing going with the guy. Word is it ended badly. Office grapevine says you threw him to the curb because he’s an egomaniac in love with his own reflection. The secretaries claim he was pushing for a commitment that you weren’t interested in. My assistant says the two of you had about as much spark as a wet match.”
Darby blinked at the shock of hearing that so many people were talking smack about her love life—such as it’d been. But, knowing her boss wasn’t finished yet, she kept her protest to herself.
“I told you, I hear things,” he said. “The question is, can you get past that? Set it aside, forget about it, whatever it takes so you can focus on the job at hand. Can you set aside your personal issues and do your job?”
Darby knew perfectly well that he was talking about Paul, not Nic. But her mind couldn’t get past personal issues. She’d racked up forty-three orgasms with the defendant. Forty-four if the one she’d had thinking about him in the shower this morning counted—and she had to believe it did.
But this wasn’t about sex.
This was about her career. Something she’d be damned if she’d throw away just because she’d had a whole lot of amazing sex.
“Look, Raye, you’ve got talent. You’re a solid attorney. You’ve closed a healthy number of cases. You’re respected in this office, not just by the other attorneys but by the staff, as well.”
Not sure how to respond, Darby could only blink.
“You’re smart, so you know this office is looking for someone to step into a key position on the terrorism task force. You want that position.”
When he paused to give her an expectant stare Darby managed a nod. Because, yes, dammit, she did want that position.
“You want that position, this is your shot. A case like this, it’s a fast pass to the top. It’s up to you if you want to use it or not.”
Talk about dangling a big tasty carrot in front of her.
“Understood.” Darby inclined her head toward the door. “Shall I ask Lieutenant Thomas to come back in?”
But as Darby listened to Carson outline how this would work, she wished she’d taken a little longer to think it over. Especially when he got Paul to agree that the federal prosecutor’s office would take lead in trying the case. Which meant that she, as the lead attorney, would be the one prosecuting the accused.
Darby tried to catch her breath, but anxiety was gripping her by the throat. She managed to tamp it down by assuring herself that once she’d dug in to the details, she’d find that Paul’s case was full of hot air. Which meant she’d never have to actually see Nic again.
“I’m glad we could work this out. It’ll be a pleasure to work with your office on this matter.” Not bothering to disguise his triumph, Paul gave Darby a taunting smile. “Let’s get to work, then. We have two weeks to build a case proving that Nic Savino is a traitor, unfit to serve this great country.”
* * *
LEGS BRACED AGAINST the rumbling roar of the helicopter’s engine, Nic w
ent over the mission plan one last time with his team.
“Gentlemen, we’re ready to rock. Captain Shamon is coordinating his troops on the ground. They’ll begin their strike in T minus five.” Nic glanced from man to man. “Any questions?”
He saw exactly what he expected as he looked over the faces of his men. Preparedness and pride.
“Excellent. We’re ten minutes out. Final equipment check,” he ordered.
As one, his men went through the usual system check. Weapons, tech, parachutes, infrared. Maps, intel, routes in and out. They’d coordinate with Captain Shamon, time their jump onto the enemy ship at the same time the Captain led his team on the land assault.
Nic glanced at the radar to confirm the ship’s position while monitoring Shamon’s communications. He took a few minutes to reconfirm the mission protocols, then did his own equipment check. Chute, weapon, tech.
For the first time in years, he was antsy. He wanted to get this mission moving. He needed the action. The demand.
But antsy all the same.
Louden dropped down next to him, resting his rifle at his side and his helmet propped on his knee. Nic finished checking an encrypted message, deleted it, then shifted his gaze to his second-in-command.
“Problem?” Louden asked.
“Everything’s on point.”
“I didn’t mean a problem with the mission. I meant a personal problem.” Louden gave him a narrow-eyed look. “Are you letting that NI crap bother you? Ignore it, man.”
“Ignoring problems doesn’t make them go away,” Nic pointed out. “We have an enemy and the first step toward beating an enemy is acknowledging their power.”
“You think whoever is pulling this crap has more power than Poseidon?” Louden gave a sad shake of his head. “Dude, the sea god is almighty.”
Before Nic could roll his eyes, his second-in-command leaned closer and, his dark blue eyes flaming with determination, said, “We are Poseidon. We honor the sea because we appreciate the challenges it offers. We’re trained to be the best, but we never forget that there are things out there more powerful than any one of us. But nothing, my man, is more powerful than all of us.”