by Regan Black
“Rest in terms of a break from work, yes. Sleep, not so much.”
“Is it the ROC op that’s keeping you up?” Rob shot her a concerned glance as he idled at a red traffic light. They were at the largest intersection in town, where a country highway crossed the main pike that twisted through the commercial area. Silver Valley’s more quaint, historical district was a mile away, far from the noise where two six-lane highways intersected.
“Partly.”
“Am I the other part of that?”
“No. Yes, no.” Dang it, she didn’t want to talk to him about any of this. Not until she had it straight in her head.
“How’s Jake?” He drove onto the main thoroughfare.
“He’s great. I know other parents struggle to get their kids ready for school, but that’s never been a problem with him. He’s so excited to have his own place to go to. And he really enjoys the other kids, for the most part.”
“Funny that we’d have such a social son.” Rob’s observation made her laugh.
“I know, right? We’re lucky we stopped long enough to have a conversation with each other outside of work, back on the base.” She wasn’t sure if it was her comment or Rob’s that made her acutely aware of how damn strange their situation was. They’d once known each other so intimately, every nuance of each other’s conversation or body language. What they’d shared on Friday had been physical intimacy and possibly a kind of spiritual cleansing, at least on her part. But the fact remained that they hadn’t spent any normal time together for over five years.
“A lot changes in five years, Rob.”
“That goes both ways. We’ve both changed, and yet the most important thing we ever did together is constantly changing.”
Jake.
“Your point?”
“We could make a conscious decision to accept where we are today and move forward, for Jake’s sake.”
“Why do I feel you mean, for your sake?” Why was she being argumentative? He wanted to be involved in his son’s life. If she were in his shoes, wouldn’t she do anything to make that happen?
“Of course I do. I’m not trying to hide my desire to be here for Jake. It’ll be your call when we tell him, Trina, but we will tell him. And I’m not going to leave him again.” His voice was steady, his hands firm on the wheel but not tense as he pulled off the road and into the parking lot of some kind of corporate building. Trina counted at least seven floors, their uniformly tinted windows all sparkling.
“I thought this was the global headquarters for that online news source.” The name escaped her; she’d read about it in the local paper.
“No, that’s the building we just passed, about a half mile ago. This is meant to look similar, but we do far different things here.” Rob pulled into a parking spot behind the building, under a tree.
Trina wondered why she’d never noticed this before, but in reality there were so many office buildings and corporate headquarters in the Harrisburg area that it was an easy oversight. And from what little she’d put together about this secret agency, it was an oversight it cultivated. She wasn’t ignorant to the fact that other law enforcement agencies existed, and that she had no clue what they all did. She didn’t have to; her job was to be a US Marshal and carry out her duty as such. But she was still taken aback that the headquarters for something so secretive, and probably just as powerful, was located in Silver Valley. Silver Valley was the epitome of an all-American medium-size town: big enough to have all the diverse benefits of a city and small enough so that everyone still said “hello” when they walked past one another on the street. They all held doors open for one another, too.
Rob stood at the entrance, holding the glass door open as he waited for her. Trina smiled and Rob’s eyes narrowed. “What’s so funny?”
“It’s an honor to have the same agent who took on an entire arm of ROC last week be nearly human.”
He returned her smile. “I thought I made it clear that I’m very human.” His eyes smoldered, and she wanted to turn and run.
“Wait, Trina, I was kidding. If that was inappropriate, I’m sorry.”
“Not inappropriate as much as too true.” She walked ahead of him into a very ordinary front reception area, where they were immediately ushered back into another waiting lounge. Trina noted that both the escort and Rob provided their retina scans, and she was asked to place her fingers on another scanner. “This is until you get your biometrics completely uploaded.” Rob spoke as the escort remained quiet and disappeared back to the entrance.
“Have a seat and the director will be with you shortly.” The receptionist spoke to Trina.
“This is where I leave you.” Rob’s hard tone made her stomach do a jig. Trina couldn’t help it—she always felt a shot of adrenaline course through her veins whenever Rob spoke so definitively, with nothing to soften the edges. It reminded her of wartime.
“Okay. Will you be the one to give me a lift back to SVPD to get my car? If you can’t, don’t worry. I can call someone to pick me up.”
Rob leaned in, speaking quietly even though they were the only two in the waiting area. “First, you never, ever bring anyone else here or have someone meet you here unless it’s part of a preplanned deal. Second, of course I’m the one taking you back to SVPD. Claudia will let me know when you’re ready. I’ve got a lot to catch up on, so I’m heading up to my office. Good luck.”
They stared at each other for a heartbeat and the skin on her cheek tightened, her back arched into a slight lean, as if expecting a kiss. Rob winked and walked away, around the reception desk to a back hallway.
Trina forced her wobbly legs to walk over to a chair and sank down, needing the comfort of the soft cushions. Rob had her off her game. As well as she and Rob worked together, her hormones weren’t about to follow suit. They danced to their own beat—and it was a tempo set by the incredibly hot chemistry she and Rob shared.
The decor in the waiting area was professional and incredibly sleek yet still reasonably comfortable. This wasn’t a regular government agency, that was for certain. Trina almost laughed aloud as she compared the chair she sat in to the steel-framed director-style chairs in the US Marshals lobby. Not that she’d want it any different—taxpayer money went to apprehending felons and preventing man-made disasters. Posh furniture wasn’t in the deal. She waited for ten minutes but it felt like an hour.
“Marshal Lopez? Claudia’s ready.”
“Thank you.” She walked over to where the receptionist stood at a large door that, once opened, revealed it was built more like a bank safe. The inside of the door showed several inches of steel with countless bolts that Trina bet were all connected to encrypted codes.
“Hi again, Trina. Please, have a seat.” Claudia looked up briefly from the large computer screen she sat behind, typing on a lower keyboard. She nodded at one of two chairs in front of her massive contemporary desk. Trina watched Claudia work and noted that if the woman’s hair hadn’t been that striking shade of silver, but instead dyed, she’d be hard-pressed to believe Claudia was old enough to have been a flag officer in the Marine Corps.
Claudia pushed her keyboard tray into her desk with a flourish and stood up. “There! I’m sorry to be so rude but I had to answer some direct comms with our agents. Would you like coffee or tea?” Claudia walked over to a small kitchenette area where she clicked on an electric teakettle.
“Tea’s great.”
As she waited for the water to boil, Claudia examined Trina with her bright eyes. “You’ve been through a lot over the past several days, Trina. I appreciate your willingness to come in so readily.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“It’s Claudia. And you should know that my SVPD title, the social media director, is a cover. I’m the director of Trail Hikers.” The kettle clicked off. “Green tea? Herbal? Black?”
“Green is wonderful.” S
he wanted a lift but didn’t think her nerves would handle much more stimulation. It figured that Claudia was the director. The woman struck her as someone who could move mountains. And she knew it.
“Here you go.” Claudia placed a mug on the table between the two chairs and sat in the other empty chair instead of going back to her desk. Trina’s surprise must have been evident.
“I don’t bite, honest.” Claudia sat back, relaxed but with the alertness only typical of a war veteran. Always watching for what lurked around the closest corner, or inside the person next to you. “As I said, I know how much you’ve been through. You should know that I run an agency that has access to anything imaginable, to include personal records. We only use our power as needed to take down our opponents, not to spy on American citizens.”
“Claudia, do I need to know all of this?”
“You will, if you agree to what I’m going to propose. What I’m talking about right now, though, is you and Rob. More importantly, you and Justin—before he became Rob.”
Claudia knew, just as she’d said at SVPD. And she knew it all.
“I’d say your systems are thorough.” Trina’s voice was steadier than her shaky bearings. Was anything sacred?
“This is why I told you about our abilities, if rather vaguely. I could have found out whatever I needed, but I didn’t have to. Rob told us as soon as he reported for duty, after he left the CIA. I take it you know he worked for them for several years?”
“Yes.” Would there be any point in lying to this woman?
“Rob needed a change, and my agency offered him that. He’s only come here on a mission-by-mission basis. We happen to have several permanent positions available. I’d like to see him directing bigger operations instead of doing the day-to-day ops like what you were involved with last week.” Trina forced herself to keep from shaking her head. If coming face-to-face with ROC bad guys was part of what Claudia considered a day-to-day op, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know what a major or strategic op entailed.
“Why are you telling me this, Claudia?”
“Actually, I need you to answer a question for me first. Are you willing to be read in to the Trail Hikers?” Claudia’s expression and straightforward demeanor signified no manipulation. This was Trina’s decision entirely.
“Will it affect my position as a marshal?”
“Not at all. If anything it may help you, as you’ll be privy to information and leads on cases you might otherwise not be. Of course you can’t reveal it in your daily US Marshal activity. Any information that’s proprietary to Trail Hikers is just that, but I think you’ll see that it won’t be difficult to keep the two paths of data separate.”
“I’m in.”
“Wonderful. But we’ll give you a little more information and time before we make you sign on the dotted line. You’ll have to sign a basic nondisclosure agreement now, though.” Claudia looked toward her desk. “Jessica, please take Trina to the classrooms.”
After several hours of basic indoctrination, Trina was brought back into Claudia’s office to sign contracts to agree to keep all she saw at Trail Hikers headquarters secret, and to not involve any uncleared personnel in Trail Hikers business if at all possible. After she placed her signature on the last line of the last page, Claudia held out her hand. “Welcome to Trail Hikers, Trina.”
“Thank you. It’s an honor to work with you. I know I’m not a full-time TH agent, but anything I can do to help with this mission, and future ops, I’m here.”
* * *
Trina had to sit through two full days of briefing and some operational drills at the TH offices. Corey knew what she was doing, and the rest of the Marshals office was told she was taking classes. The training explained a lot to her and answered her most pressing question—how much of TH work could she do while still working as a US Marshal?
A lot, it turned out. Trina had to admit to herself that this was what she’d been looking for. A way to broaden the challenges of her work without having to leave the area. Settling down in one area with Jake had been her long-term goal, and it was a relief to have the Trail Hikers. Serendipity came to Silver Valley, apparently.
And she’d remain a Trail Hiker, even if for an unforeseen reason she ever left the US Marshals. She’d have to have another job or occupation to serve as her main career, as it was a requisite for all Trail Hikers agents to have a cover job, but it had to be real, as well. Actual Trail Hikers work and missions would occupy only up to a third of her time, but they would pay handsomely. A great way to save up sooner for Jake’s college, that was for sure.
Three days after she’d begun her Trail Hikers indoctrination, or “indoc,” Claudia called her into the office again.
“I take it your training has gone well?”
“Yes—although maybe you should tell me? We don’t seem to get much feedback from the instructors.”
“You didn’t get much feedback because you’ve had most of the training. There isn’t much you haven’t already been exposed to.”
“True. Except for all the technology.” Trina had noted that where her tools such as handcuffs and comms gear were limited to what the government gave the US Marshals, Trail Hikers didn’t seem to have the same budgetary constraints.
“Yes, we have the best and latest. Futuristic, in many cases.”
“It’ll be fun working here.”
Claudia leaned back in her office chair, her expression relaxed. “I hope it’s more than fun. My wish is that you’re able to grow as much personally as professionally from all that TH offers you.” Before Trina responded, Claudia stood up and walked around to the front of the desk, where she leaned as she continued speaking. “Now on to the first mission I need you to do.” As if by magic, the door behind Trina opened, and she looked over her shoulder to see Rob walk through. They hadn’t spoken to each other in the days she’d been participating in the intensive indoc training, and it was like seeing him for the first time all over again. He was at her side in three long strides, lowering himself into the second chair.
“Claudia, Trina.”
“Rob, Trina, I have a mission for you both. I understand that working together may be a bit tense for you at this juncture in reacquainting yourselves, but it can’t be helped. You’re two of my best Russian speakers and we’ve got a big problem right here in Silver Valley that needs to be stomped out before ROC thinks it can run this town.”
“Is it with the same group we were up against in the Poconos?”
“Yes. It turns out there was another trailer of girls that went unnoticed until they’d been dispersed to several towns in southern Pennsylvania. Five of them are local to Silver Valley, and all working at the Den, as well as making extra money at the truck service station off the main drag.”
The Den was labeled as a “gentlemen’s club” in Silver Valley, but everyone knew it wasn’t just a strip joint. It had come under fire for unlicensed gambling, and there were unsubstantiated reports of prostitution.
“If you know the girls are there, why can’t Immigration take them in, for their own safety?”
Claudia’s lips pursed as though she, too, was frustrated with having to jump through hoops to save the young women. “We need time, and we need them to ask for help. Right now none of them speak English, or if they do, they don’t let on. They converse only in Russian, and all have visas and passports that indicate they’re older than they are. Of course the visas and passports are fake, but again, we don’t want to go rolling in there unless we’re fairly certain we can take down the ROC group perpetrating this. Otherwise there will only be more ROC activity coming into Silver Valley, until the numbers are too great for us, or rather, local law enforcement, to keep up with.”
“I’m sure Claudia or the other instructors told you this already, but Trail Hikers doesn’t usually get involved in anything that local law enforcement or even the FBI can
handle.”
“Right. And I’m thinking we’re back to the language ability—there aren’t a lot of fluent Russian speakers in our area.” Trina did think there would have to be a fair number of Russian speakers in TH, however, as it was a clandestine agency that helped go after ROC.
“Yes. TH has several agents who are polyglots and speak Russian, of course. But they’re currently assigned to other ops, unable to break free.”
“Trina is perfect for this.” Rob added his opinion. “As a woman you may be more approachable for the girls. You and I do have a history of working well together.”
“I read up on what you two did in the Navy. I knew about it peripherally as I was in the same Middle Eastern country then, too.” Claudia addressed Trina. “Your squadron and the P-8 community in general provided a lot of support to our MEFs.” Yes, Trina had flown many hours in support of US Marine expeditionary forces. Until she’d been assigned exclusively to support Rob’s SEAL team.
“We did, as well as less frequent SEAL support ops. It was my privilege to fly those missions.” Trina looked at Rob. “We worked together then because the missions had been deeply strategized many months ahead of time. What we did last week, what this might require, is much more fluid.”
“If by ‘fluid’ you mean it could turn deadly on a dime, Trina, yes, you’re correct. But so could any of your apprehensions as a US Marshal, right?” Claudia was no-nonsense.