DARC Ops: The Complete Series

by Jamie Garrett

  He was glad, too, seeing Annica inching over to her side of the bed, making room for him.

  “I don’t care, either,” Cole said, climbing into bed next to her. “I never did.”

  “I could tell.”

  They lay next to each other, on their sides, curling in. There was a small gap between them that no one seemed in a rush to bridge. Cole kept his hands folded under his pillow.

  “Besides,” Cole said, “it’s not like there’s nothing else for them to talk about. It’s been a pretty exciting night.”

  “I’m sorry about your friend.”

  It surprised him. Cole hadn’t forgotten, but he’d taken steps to push it out of his mind the best he could. He preferred not to think about Tommy until he knew what the score was. Until he knew if Tommy had really sold him out. Until he knew if Tommy would survive . . .

  “Everything’s up in the air right now,” he said, feeling that sickness gnaw again at the pit of his stomach. That sick feeling of not knowing something important. “All up in the air, isn’t it?”

  “Some of it,” Annica said.

  “Some of the most important things.”

  She waited a moment and then said, “Some of those important things are also known, too.”

  He knew how he felt about her. He knew that, at the very least.

  “I know,” Cole said.

  “You do?” She flipped around, facing away from him now. At first, the move worried Cole. But then he watched as she slid backward, into him. Spooning. They took a deep breath, together, and Cole’s arm draped over her. It was a natural instinct, like taking a breath. Their bodies, too, naturally together. Instincts all the way, from emails to the beach, and now to this bed.

  Cole held her close and said, “I’ve been wanting to do this all night.”

  “I know,” she said.

  Annica smelled clean and fresh from the shower. They might have used the same borrowed soap. Like she did, Cole wore his guest’s clothes, Jackson’s jogging shorts. No shirt. Her body felt warm and amazing against his bare chest.

  She yawned. “I’m so tired, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep.”

  “I can stay up with you,” Cole said. “As long as it takes.”

  Annica pulled her pillow closer, her body settling in snugly against him with a gentle wiggle across his crotch. They lay in silence for a moment, listening to the waves far down at the beach. Annica shivered slightly in his arms, and he could maybe guess why. Hours ago, after that first wave, the coast had been hit several more times, with decreasing severity. The sea had since returned to its normal surf, with normal-sized waves. He listened to them crash now, wondering when the next big round would come ashore.

  “I hope I thanked you properly,” Cole said. “You basically saved my life.”

  “I did save your life.”

  “You did,” Cole said.

  “You saved mine, too. So I guess we’re already even.”

  “We’re even,” he said, bringing his face down to her shoulder. “We’re very even.”

  “We are.”

  He kissed her shoulder through the cotton of her T-shirt.

  He peeled back her sleeve, up her arm, and laid his lips on her soft, bare skin. Kissing there. Sucking, just a little bit. She pressed back into him. It was as if their bodies couldn’t bear to be apart.

  Annica turned her head slightly, trying to get a glimpse of him. He nuzzled his face to her neck, pinning her down with a kiss. She groaned so quietly in the dark, in bed, with him. While at her neck, Cole could feel one of her hands drop down his body, feeling him through his shorts. Feeling him growing.

  Another round of waves crashed ashore. Distant. Safely away. And up here in this little hut, in their close and dark privacy, with their bodies pressed against each other’s, he felt safe, too.

  Safe enough to stop talking. To let their bodies continue the conversation. The exchange. Cole’s shorts slid down, and then Annica’s, smooth and quick down her thighs. He leaned forward, leaning into her, spreading her until she gave way, warm and tight and perfect.

  She might have said something then, when he’d slid fully inside, when their bodies touched. Something low and garbled with ecstasy as her face turned away and into the pillow. She made her noises into the pillow, quietly—as quietly as he worked in her, with hardly any sound but their breathing and the rocking of the bed. He gripped on to her, by the soft mounds of her hips. She gripped the bed, hands contracted tightly. Her body gripped tightly around him and already it seemed impossible for him to last this way. The motion too good, the fit too right. Everything perfectly quiet. Close and quiet enough for Cole to hear the sweet sound of how excited he’d made her. To hear their skin, sticking now as they warmed with the motion. He pumped harder, warmer. His hands moved up from her hips, up her back, pushing up her shirt. He wanted to see her bare flesh. More of it. He wanted a faceful of her bare back, and he got it now and kissed it softly. She kept her face away, hidden. Breasts no longer hidden. His hands had moved around to find them, holding both against the jarring thuds of his hips.

  Her face no longer buried, Annica turned back to him, to catch his lips and hold them. He held her head as they groaned through a long, hot kiss. She never let go, even as he came with a groan, her pussy contracting around him as she shuddered beneath him.

  24

  Annica

  The sun had just crested the dark blue horizon by the time Annica sat down in the cool sand of the beach. Overnight, she had grown to mistrust the sea and its outward beauty. Somewhere beneath the waves lay its horrific capabilities. It looked calm today, but surface appearance hardly mattered. She had learned how quickly a moment of calm could descend into madness.

  She was reassured, at least, that the water had not receded again. She watched the tides carefully, noting the utter normalcy of it all. She had learned, if the tide were to mysteriously pull back, to run for high ground no matter what she was doing or who she was hiding from, or whose sexy body she was underneath.

  Just a few hours ago, there had been no waves to separate them—but for the ones they’d made for themselves. Waves of pleasure. Waves of heat, washing over the bed. Ripples through the mattress. His force rippling through her body. Those were the good kind of waves. Waves she hadn’t expected to feel in Hawaii. But nothing about this trip was in the realm of expectations—save for the natural beauty of the beach. She stared out as the sun climbed higher and warmer, the day opening up before her. A beautiful day. A dangerous day, too. Perhaps the most dangerous yet.

  She leaned back on her palms, enjoying how the soft sand spilled through her fingers. The wind, toying with her hair. Through it all, even the darkest parts of the adventure, some part of her enjoyed it. The excitement made her feel more alive than any number of years growing numb and hunchbacked in front of a laptop.

  Between waves, she heard someone calling her name. Ethan ambled down the footpath, waving shyly. The last she’d seen of him was another of his close and serious interviews with Kalani. He came up to her now with a wry smile. “Good morning.”

  “Came out for the sunrise?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I barely slept.”

  “Nerves?”

  He sat down next to her. “A lot of things.”

  “Kalani?”

  “What?” he said, laughing nervously.

  “Nothing.”

  “Actually,” Ethan said, “I wanted to talk to you about that.”

  “You do?”

  “Just about . . . you know . . .”

  “I have no clue,” Annica said, wanting to laugh but not knowing if it would crush him somehow. “Why don’t you tell me?”

  Ethan chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment. “I was getting the feeling last night that I was being talked about. Questioned.”

  “Questioned? Like as a journalist?”

  “My professionalism,” Ethan said. “We were all just having a good time and everything, but, I was just wonde
ring if you really felt that way. That I could be . . . unprofessional?”

  Annica took another look at him, trying to see beyond the surface calm. Beyond the surface waves of the sea, to the inner turmoil. What exactly had he meant by “unprofessional”?

  “All I’ve seen you do is try to work and suss out the story, and just keep being the great journalist you are.” She shrugged and left it at that.

  Ethan shrugged, too. And then he chuckled quietly and said, “Okay. I was worried you though . . . You thought I was trying to suss out something else.”

  “What?” Annica said, laughing. “What does that even mean?”

  His laughter had come to a quick halt. “I’ve never tried to hit on you or anything,” he said, looking away from her as if she’d become the bright sunrise. “I’ve never thought of you like that.”

  That was a lie. But she was okay to skirt past it. “It’s okay,” she said. “I know.” It was best for both of them, just get past it and leave it there. Dead on arrival. A non-topic.

  “Sorry,” he said, grimacing in the soft light. “I knew this would be awkward.”

  “It’s not.”

  Another lie.

  “But I just had to bring it up,” he said. “I needed to clear the air, especially after last night.”

  “That was nothing. You know, just girls being slightly intoxicated girls. Just, you know . . .”

  “Yeah,” he said, nodding. “Yeah, I was just worried for a second there. I really respect you. You know that. I think you’re an incredible journalist, and, well, an inspiration. And, dare I say, a role model?”

  Annica laughed, thinking about what kind of journalistic role model she’d been with Cole, her latest line-crossing. Hot and nasty line-crossing that she still felt a little sore from . . .

  “What’s so funny?” Ethan asked.

  “Nothing. Just the idea, I guess.” The sun had climbed higher and she was just starting to feel its warmth on her skin. It felt good. It even felt good to be sitting and talking with her younger coworker, despite the conversation. But maybe it was just the conversation she’d been looking to have with him. She was glad he’d brought it up first. Whatever it was . . .

  What was it?

  Had he found someone else to busy himself with?

  “So,” Annica said, “did you stay up pretty late last night?”

  “No.”

  Lie? She remembered seeing him last with Kalani, talking. No notebook anywhere in sight.

  “I see you found your latest subject,” Annica said.

  He smiled. “What does that mean?”

  “Just you following the story down its latest twist and turn. Sussing it out, right? I’m glad.”

  Ethan nodded. “I’m working.”

  “I’m happy for you.”

  He smiled again, and then looked away, off toward the sunrise. The day was coming on hot and fast.

  Jackson’s voice sounded behind her. “Hey, you two. Comparing notes?”

  The sound of the waves had hidden the approach, he and Mira strolling casually toward them along the tide’s edge. Before Jackson got close enough for her answer, Annica re-thought his question. One last round of narrative analysis before her lips loosened with the answer. Ethan, meanwhile, just sat there, staring off against the sun.

  Comparing notes?

  It seemed fitting somehow, that they had in fact been comparing some type of notes. Getting back on the same page. She was glad they reconvened like this the day of the mission. She felt that much more ready to get on with it, and to put the horrible work segment of this Hawaiian trip behind her. She had things to move on to. Better things.

  She decided against answering Jackson, and instead complimented Mira on how calm and collected she appeared after the night’s wild events.

  “I wasn’t the one stuck in a disaster movie,” Mira said. “Kudos go to you. And Cole.”

  “And Kalani,” Ethan said. “She saved that guy’s life.”

  Annica hadn’t told anyone about what she’d done for Cole, though she suspected he had. Especially with the way he’d smiled at her for the rest of the night. The way he’d waited on her hand and foot. He had the look of a proud . . . boyfriend?

  And then, after . . .

  “Well,” Jackson said, “I’m glad everyone’s in good spirits. We’ve got a big day.”

  “I’m looking forward to it,” she said.

  Ethan shot her a quick look, as if to check her sincerity. Then he said, “Me, too.”

  Jackson stood at their side, wearing a golf shirt and plaid Bermuda shorts, looking quite like a tourist. Maybe that was the ruse. Mira, on the other hand, wore jeans and a sweater and looked more like a local, still cold in the early morning. The only part of her that seemed foreign was her face: pale, and anxious. When she smiled, the anxiety was still there, marking her deeply.

  “You guys ready for breakfast?” she said.

  Annica brought an extra plate into the guest house, setting it down on the wicker nightstand. Cole rolled over and looked at it, and then at her, his eyelids still fluttering to fully open. His hair was a mess. So was his face, all mashed in with sleep. She thought it looked hot.

  The man didn’t have a bad side.

  “Thanks,” he said, not looking at the plate. He looked hungry for something else, licking his lips now.

  “I thought you’d be hungry,” Annica said.

  “I am.”

  “I thought you’d need to refuel after last night.”

  “Come here,” he said, sitting up on his side, smiling. “Come on.”

  Today was such a big day . . .

  “Come here . . .”

  Annica took a few more steps to the end of the bed and said, “You need to eat.”

  “I will.” He smiled again, taking Annica’s hand and pulling her onto the bed.

  25

  Cole

  He shouldn’t have done that. He shouldn’t have overexerted himself with Annica, both at night and this morning. He could feel it in his legs, his muscles a little less ready and reactive. He felt slow. Clouded over. Worst of all, he felt satisfied.

  The romp with Annica and the partial drowning had taken a lot of snap out of his muscles. It also had changed his mind about a lot of things. For one, Hawaii, and the need to get to more stable, dry ground. For two, Annica. The need to have her on that ground with him.

  “Hi, Cole,” Kalani said. She was already at the beach, waiting for Cole and the rest of the boat team. On the boat, they would be split up into two groups. Team A: Cole and Kalani, who would be landing ashore in Hilo and going deep into the Khan facility. And Team B, a familiar team: Annica and Ethan. They would stay on the boat, waiting, watching, and monitoring the comms. If need be, Ethan would form his own team. Team X, the last line of backup if things had gone that wrong.

  “Did Jackson already leave?” Kalani said, sitting on a row of metal ammo boxes. Cole joined her there, staring out at the sea and waiting for their boat to come in.

  “Jackson left with Macy and Tucker,” Cole said. “The land party.”

  “Is that the other couple?”

  Cole chuckled and said, “Macy and Tucker? Yeah, I guess they’re a couple.”

  “And you’re coupled with Annica?”

  “I don’t know,” Cole said. “Are you a couple with Ethan?”

  She laughed and kicked up some sand. “I’m not a couple with anyone. I’m solo. I’m a black widow.”

  “I can see that,” Cole said. “Why the hell haven’t I seen you anywhere?”

  She only smiled at that.

  “Fine,” Cole said. “I guess I know the answer to that. But why don’t I know about you? I think I know every security guard on this island.”

  “You thought you knew every guard.”

  “Especially the guys involved . . . I mean . . .” Cole stopped himself. Kalani was most certainly not a guy. “I mean, especially the people involved with Khan and Blackwoods.”

  “That�
��s another problem,” Kalani said. “I’m not involved with them.”

  “But your sister is?”

  Kalani nodded.

  “The Captain’s secretary?” It was hard for Cole to imagine they were the same blood. Physically, sure. They were both beautiful. But how they chose to steer their occupations, their lives, their souls . . .

  “That’s why I’m doing this,” Kalani said. “That thing last night was just another of Jackson’s fitness tests. Or loyalty tests, or whatever he wants to call it. It didn’t matter to me. I was just doing another job. But this is different.”

  “I need to talk to you about that,” Cole said. “About last night.”

  “No, don’t,” she said. “It’s okay.”

  “I’m sorry I doubted you.”

  Kalani sighed. “It was a crazy night.”

  Cole nodded, feeling a shared truth solidify between them. A shared understanding of that understatement.

  Maybe it could have been the shared occupation, but Cole felt immediately comfortable with her now, as a Hawaiian security guard. The same couldn’t have been said for last night, of course, when she, the black widow, had a gun trained on him and Annica. But that was by design. She was doing her job. And doing it very well.

  “You’re a tough cookie,” Cole said.

  “Yeah,” Kalani said. “I kind of am.” She gave him a wink and then looked back out to the sea, and then looking down the coast in the direction of the distant and slow vibrato of an approaching boat as it skimmed the waves. “Did you find your piece?”

  “What?” Jackson said. It had been a long time since he’d found peace. A piece, on the other hand . . .

  “The Glock,” Kalani said, still staring at the boat’s approach. “Jackson left the case on the picnic table. A belt snap, too.”

  “Oh,” Cole said, patting his side, where the Glock sat ready in the holster. “Yeah, I’m good. Thanks.”