“Wait,” Sandy said, placing a hand on his wrist. “It’s still early yet. I’d like to head to DHS. There’s a file on my desktop that could help.” She paused and looked around then met his gaze again. “I just think we should get it.”
So, one Uber ride and twenty minutes later, they exited the car and stood in front of DHS headquarters. His mind was transported back to watching that damn room burning with Sandy trapped inside, when he heard someone calling out her name.
“Look, it’s Rodrigo,” she said, pointing to a nearby hot dog cart. She released him to walk over to the young man.
The vendor’s face lit up. “Ms. Sandy, how are you enjoying your trip to the Big Apple?”
“It’s great.” She smiled. “How are you? I didn’t realize you could move your stand around the city.”
The young man laughed. “Yeah. As long as we have a license.” He pointed to the license hanging on his cart. “And go where vending is allowed, and don’t encroach on someone’s territory. That could get your tires slashed.”
Sandy frowned. “That’s awful.”
Archer joined her, silently listening to the exchange.
Rodrigo shrugged. “Could be worse. So...can I get you one with mustard, two with ketchup?”
“Sure.” She turned to him and smiled. “You’re up for another two, right?”
Both impressed and alarmed the guy remembered their orders, he grinned to keep up appearances. “Always.”
His mind raced. There were over three thousand independent vendors in the city, and twice, within three days—at two different locations—they run into the same guy? Way too suspect for him.
As he paid for the dogs, he made a mental note to have TJ double-check the man’s license and ID again. After bidding the vendor farewell, they walked across the small courtyard in front of the building’s entrance, polishing off their food by the time they reached the doors.
“The least amount of time we spend in here, the better,” he said, opening the door for her when she nodded.
Getting in wasn’t much of a hassle. Sandy had her credentials and he just had to fill out a form for a visitor pass. The elevator opened as they neared, and her boss stepped out.
“Hi, Sandy.” He appeared genuinely pleased to see her. “I didn’t know you were coming in.”
She shrugged. “Need something from my desk. I’m not staying long.”
“Mr. Monroe.” Dave nodded, appearing genuinely not pleased to see Archer.
He nodded back. “Webster.”
“Have a good night,” the man said, then disappeared into the exiting crowd.
After that, the majority of the building was quiet. The normal workforce had gone for the day. He attributed that to their non-stop elevator ride. In silence. He liked how Sandy seemed to be on the same page as him, without discussing it. She instinctively knew to keep the chatter to a minimum.
When they got out on her floor, she greeted the receptionist who was packing up her purse as if getting ready to leave for the day.
The woman glanced up and smiled. “Sandy...glad to see you’re okay.”
“Me, too.” Sandy grinned.
“Oh, wait. You’ll need this to get in your new door.” The woman hurried around the desk to drop a key in Sandy’s hand. “It had to be replaced.”
“Oh, okay. Thanks, Amy,” Sandy said, her jaw working as if trying to keep from laughing. “Wonder why it needed replacing?” she muttered under her breath for only his ears.
He held back a grin as she led him down to the office he’d pretty much ransacked yesterday when she’d sent him in for her laptop and purse. “Looks like they still need to fix your drawer, though.”
“Wow, you...ah...did that?” She looked from the bent top drawer sitting on her desk to him and blinked. “You’re SEAL strong.”
“Hooyah.”
She smiled. “Hoo-yeah.” Color rushed into her face matching the velocity of the heat washing through his body. “I said that out loud, didn’t I?”
He grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”
Closing her eyes, she groaned, “Go look out the window and count cars or something.” She re-opened her eyes and waved him away. “I can’t think when you...”
“When I what?” He leaned closer, wanting to hear her finish.
She sighed. “When you’re near. Now...go look out the window and take your focus with you.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he repeated, a grin still on his face as he did as she bid and stood in front of her floor-to-ceiling window. The sun was starting to set, but the traffic remained busy as day transitioned to night over the city. Way up here, the sounds were faint. The frantic pace was below, and for the first time in a long time, he took a good look at the city.
The mix of ethnicities was still there. The hard workers were still there. So were the predators and the police trying to get them off the streets. None of that was new. The city hadn’t changed, it had just updated, with an even stronger resilience. His father had loved that about the city. Archer too, but he truthfully missed his boat. Missed the ocean. Missed his little piece of heaven on the shore and looked forward to leaving this city behind to relax away from the crowds.
But not away from Sandy.
He listened to her humming to herself as she clacked on her keyboard. No, he wasn’t leaving until they sat down and drafted a plan to see each other...
The hair on the back of his neck stood up.
He stilled, and glanced across the street, but with the setting sun glaring right in the area where there was no building to block it, Archer couldn’t see a damn thing. Christ, someone could be pointing a tank at him and he wouldn’t see it.
They needed to leave. Now. Since he had no idea who was watching them or how, he wasn’t about to make it easy for the bastards to follow them back to their Brooklyn safe house. He pulled out his phone and sent a text alert to Bella, informing her they needed a hot extraction—EXFIL—two blocks south.
“You about ready?” he asked calmly, making sure to keep his body in line with hers to block any projectiles.
“Yep,” she said. “Just powering down.”
Archer turned to face her. “Good. Lets’ go,” he said, ushering her into the hall.
“What’s wrong?” She stepped in front of him to place a hand on his chest to stop him. “What’s going on?”
Chapter Ten
“We’re being watched. We need to get out now,” Archer muttered, grabbing her hand as he walked with her down the hall, his gaze peeled for any sudden movements.
The reception area was clear. As a matter of fact, it was too clear. He punched the button for the elevators, noting one appeared to be stuck three floors down and the other on the fifth floor.
Shit.
He reached down and yanked his gun from his ankle holster then stood. “Tell me there’s another set of stairs...” He wasn’t about to use the closest one.
“Yes. This way.” Sandy rushed toward her office and halfway there she turned right and pointed to an exit sign at the end of that hall.
They ran to it and Archer entered first, checking up then down, before motioning for her to follow. They made it down eight flights and were moving past the sixth floor door when it jerked opened, knocking Sandy backward toward the wall.
Unable to shoot because she was too close, Archer launched himself at the man dressed in black tactical gear and the momentum propelled them into the hall, where they smashed into two more men wearing the same gear. The impact knocked two of three weapons away, but not his.
With Sandy no longer near the men, Archer shot the guy closest to him, grabbed the man’s falling weapon and emptied it into the two remaining men struggling to get back on their feet.
Sandy rushed in. “Archer, are you okay?”
Jesus...
“Yes, but I don’t want you running into the gunfire,” he muttered, grabbing her arm. “Let’s go.”
“No...wait” She yanked free. “Remove their masks,” she said,
fishing her phone from her purse, then grimaced as she took their photos. “Okay.”
He swiped one of the unused handguns off the floor and re-checked the stairwell before motioning for her to enter.
“Wait.” She halted. “I should take one of their guns, too.”
He sucked in a breath. “No...let’s just keep moving,” he growled, resisting the urge to rub his shoulder. Damn thing ached like a son-of-a-bitch. Charging into those assholes aggravated his injury. But he didn’t care. He just wanted to get her the hell out of there.
Thank Christ, she listened and headed down the stairs. “Should I call security?” she asked on their descent. “I’m sure they heard that gunfire.”
“No. Right now, I don’t trust anyone but you in this place.” With both of his arms outstretched, weapons gripped in each hand, Archer kept his body in front of hers as they made their way to the bottom floor. Once there, he checked outside, surprised to find the area clear.
What the hell?
Holstering his gun, he shoved the procured one in his waistband under his shirt and pulled her from the building. This damn mission made less and less sense. Sliding his arm around Sandy’s waist, Archer gripped her hip to keep her close as they joined the workforce crowd gathered at the end of the block, eager to make their way home. He could relate. Scanning the area, he saw nothing amiss, but felt too vulnerable...too out in the open. He needed to get Sandy somewhere safe.
Four minutes later, they made it the two blocks to EXFIL, without incident, where Bella pulled up to the curb and they hoped into...Sandy’s SUV?
“Why do you have Sandy’s vehicle?” he asked, after they got settled into the back seat.
Bella met his gaze in the rearview mirror. “TJ needs to access Jimmy’s computer at the bank, so Matteo took him.”
Sandy stiffened. “Who’s watching the prisoners?”
He could see a smile spread across Bella’s face, as she merged into traffic. “Don’t worry about them, they’re still tied up, locked up...and unconscious.”
“What’d you get out of them?” he asked, knowing she was the reason they were unconscious.
The woman stopped at a light and turned to him. “They’re lackeys. Compartmentalized lackeys. Jimmy’s usefulness is his access to the bank. That’s why TJ and Matteo are there, to see if they can trace what they’re using him for, and if we’re lucky, who is doing the using. And hoodie-dude is a thug. Darnel DeJesus Jackson is a hired strong-arm with a long history of gang violence, petty theft, aggravated assault...the list goes on and on. Mental capacity beyond that is nil.”
And poor Stan had gotten in his path. He could’ve just pushed him out of the way but instead, the bastard stabbed him.
“So...” The woman glanced at them in the rearview mirror again. “You couldn’t invite me to kill bad guys with you?”
He blew out a breath. Matteo had his hands full with her. Then again, that man always did love a challenge. Archer supposed the couple was evenly matched, although, he had the feeling his friend deserved a medal for patience.
“We didn’t invite the bad guys, either,” Sandy said. “Next time—”
“Next time?” He reeled back. Fuck...no. “There’s not going to be a next time,” he growled, yanking his phone out of his pocket to place a call to Silas. “Branson? You’ve got a goddamn mole in your New York DHS office.” He went on to explain the latest incident. “You may want to take care of the mess on the sixth floor, too. And make them clean house. Find this mole. Sandy won’t be back until it’s spotless.” While he had the man on the line, he brought him up to speed about the audio match, and the two prisoners and what they’d discovered about the men so far.
He intended to get more out of them and would’ve, if he hadn’t been busy being involved in a shootout at fucking Homeland.
A warm hand covered his clenched fist, and he blinked before turning to meet Sandy’s gaze. There he found more warmth, and a beautiful smile that mouthed the words “thank you.”
He entwined his fingers with her trembling ones and squeezed. She didn’t need to thank him. It was his pleasure to watch over her, he just hated that there was a need for it.
After promising to keep Silas informed, Archer hung up and rode the rest of the way back to Brooklyn with his hand still entwined with Sandy’s. He didn’t want to let her go. He needed the connection. She grounded him. Calmed him. And he liked to think he did the same for her, because she was no longer shaking.
There were times her touch fogged his brain and times, like now, when he saw things clearly. It was crazy. And a godsend because when Bella drove through the abandoned warehouse to the garage area, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up again.
“Stop,” he ordered, releasing Sandy’s hand.
“What is it?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Stay here,” he told her before exiting the vehicle.
Bella got out and glanced around, as well. “Your Spidey senses going off, too?”
“Yeah, something’s off.” To look at the area, though, it appeared fine. He’d learned plenty of times across the pond that meant shit. He possessed a handheld monitor with live feed from inside the base, but it wouldn’t detect trip wires. “Do you have any equipment with you?” The other SUV had the surveillance kit.
Bella produced a handheld laser and swept the area, paying close attention to the door.
He muttered a curse when it flagged a trip wire at the base, and it wasn’t one of TJ’s, because they hadn’t set any up at this location. A heavy sense of dread filled his chest. He pulled out the monitor and flicked through the rooms to see what awaited them if they tried to enter.
Sandy got out of the SUV, and Bella walked over to view it with him. One room at a time, they studied the monitor, looking for signs of intruders or bombs. Archer’s heart dropped into his gut when he got to the prisoners’ cells and found them both naked...and dead. Throats cut.
Fuck.
Sandy inhaled and covered her mouth with her hand.
Bella muttered an oath in Italian. “It wasn’t me,” she said. “We stripped them in case they were wearing trackers or wires, but they were alive—unconscious, but alive—when I left.” She cursed again. He wasn’t sure if it was because they were dead or because she hadn’t been the one to do it.
“Thank God TJ and Matteo weren’t here,” Sandy muttered.
Bella shook her head. “This would never have happened if they were.”
Good point.
“Someone is watching. They waited for us to all leave,” he said, glancing around, frustrated as shit at not having the upper hand.
The sudden clicking sound, followed by a beeping that grew louder and louder, sent him into action.
“Get in the SUV,” he ordered. “We have to go. Now!”
He practically pushed Sandy inside and got in next to her, closing the door before he covered her with his body as Bella jumped back into the driver’s seat and fishtailed them backward out of the garage area. Then she slammed it in drive and punched it as a rumbling sounded beneath the earth, followed by an explosion that rocked the ground, and the whole warehouse swayed.
Son-of-a-bitch. Someone had definitely been watching and set off the bomb when they realized he and the others weren’t going to go inside.
Steel beams creaked with a sickening sound, and Bella swerved around pieces of ceiling that began to fall as she raced for the opening in the busted bay door. They passed through as another explosion brought the rest of the dilapidated building down.
“Keep driving,” he told Bella even though they were clear.
She slowed down and zigzagged through Brooklyn, while answering her phone. “I’m fine,” she reassured—her husband, no doubt. “Did TJ get what he needed? Good.”
“You okay?” he asked Sandy, slowly moving off her to help her sit up when he felt she was no longer threatened.
Inhaling, she met his gaze and nodded. “Yeah. You?”
He blew out a b
reath and nodded too, lifting a hand to push the hair from her face that he’d knocked loose from her bun. “I’m good.”
“I’m going to put you on speaker,” Bella said. “Archer and Sandy are with me.”
“What the hell just happened?” Matteo’s voice echoed through the SUV.
Sandy nodded. “How did they know our location?”
“And get past my security?” TJ asked.
Archer clenched his teeth and his jaw cracked. “I’m not sure, but I’m going to find out.”
“I have a theory on how they knew where we were,” Bella said, then continued when Archer nodded, “It was the prisoners.”
Sandy frowned. “But I thought you said you stripped them in case they were being tracked.”
“We did,” Bella replied. “But we never searched under their skin.”
Archer raised a brow. “You think they were injected?”
“Cool.” TJ’s intrigued tone sounded through the speaker.
Bella nodded. “Yes. It’s the only way. The only thing that makes sense, because I swept their clothes before I burned them, and they were clean.”
Archer made a mental note to check the feed when they re-grouped. TJ always backed up his feed, so they would be able to zoom in on the prisoner’s forearms to look for a mark left by the tiny incision required. The chance of it still being visible, though, was a different story. The procedure would’ve had to have been recent.
He intended to check the feed to see exactly who the hell had broken into the place. Whoever they were, they had to be as good at hacking as TJ. “We need to regroup,” he said. “Since we’re not sure if our communications are compromised, let’s follow Protocol 9.”
“Roger that,” Matteo said. “I’ll call Knight to send in a cleanup team.”
Good. He didn’t want anyone to get their hands on things they shouldn’t. “See you at the rendezvous.”
“Roger that,” Matteo said again, then the line went dead.
Bella shoved her phone back in her pocket and glanced at him in the rearview. “We need to ditch this vehicle.”
“Agreed.” He nodded.
SEAL in Charge Page 9