Shattered Duty

by Katie Reus

  Chapter 7

  Black Death 9 Agent: member of an elite group of men and women employed by the NSA for covert, off-the-books operations. A member’s purpose is to gain the trust of targeted individuals in order to gather information or evidence by any means necessary.

  Wesley shut the door to his office and pressed the button to frost the glass window again. He’d been going over reports and scanning all of his analysts’ findings on mentions of Tasev over the past five years, but he was running on no sleep and had to catch an hour or two if he wanted to be functional and an asset to his team.

  He slid his shoes off and dimmed the lights. He wouldn’t bother heading to his hotel now. It was already three in the morning so he’d just grab a few hours of sleep on his couch. It was why he had the thing in his office. As he loosened his tie, there was a sharp knock at the door.

  “Come in,” he called out, trying not to let his annoyance show. This was part of the job.

  Nathan Ortiz stepped inside, his dark hair military short even though he hadn’t been in the Marines for years. “Hey, boss. I know you’re snagging some sleep but I wanted to let you know that Selene’s tracker is back at Alexander Lopez’s house, but she’s not with him. He arrived back at his place with a dark-haired woman instead.”

  Wesley scrubbed a hand over his face. Selene had gone to Shah’s party tonight to gain a meet with the German so she’d have an intro to Tasev. They hadn’t tailed her because she needed to appear as if she was working alone, but they’d kept eyes on Lopez’s house. About an hour ago Wesley had received a brief e-mail from her telling him that she was fine but that plans had changed. She’d told him that she wasn’t with Lopez anymore and not to worry, she’d check in when she could. Under certain circumstances he would have sent a team in with her, but they hadn’t been able to risk it at Shah’s party. “Shit, sorry. I should have told you. She’s gone dark for now.” This was exactly why he needed to rest. He wasn’t a robot and if he made mistakes because of lack of sleep, the consequences could be huge.

  Ortiz nodded and stepped back toward the door. “Get some sleep. No one will bother you unless there’s an emergency.”

  “Thanks.” He stripped down to his slacks before stretching out on the couch. Outside the office there was a quiet hum of everyone working.

  As he lay there he started mentally cataloging his day as he always did. Normally it put him to sleep but now he couldn’t focus. He knew why. Thoughts of Selene worried him as they always did. It didn’t matter how trained or talented she was.

  She was more than just an agent to him. He’d more or less recruited her when she was a kid, though it hadn’t been an official recruitment until she’d finished college—which he’d insisted on and the government had paid for. Not that it had taken her long; she’d graduated with honors at the age of eighteen. When it came to computers the woman was a genius. She’d hacked the CIA when she was fifteen.

  That was when she’d first gotten on the government’s radar, but he’d snapped her up before any other branch could. He’d watched her grow into the woman she was. Some days it was hard to remember that she was only twenty-three, but then he reminded himself that he’d seen combat earlier than that. Some people just didn’t get a chance to grow up normally. What the hell was normal anyway?

  Lying there in the semi-darkness, with his eyes closed, he couldn’t help but remember the first real mission Selene had gone on by herself. It played out in his head as if he was right there.

  As the driver slowed, not fully stopping in the alley behind the five-star hotel, Wesley shoved the SUV door open. As he did, a door that led to one of the kitchens flew open. Selene, wearing a dark wig and a server’s uniform for one of the restaurants inside, strode out, her pace steady but not hurried.

  She glanced around the alley before hurrying to the creeping SUV. Once inside she shut the door and took off her square-framed glasses and pulled the cotton rolls out of her cheeks. The windows were too darkly tinted for anyone to see inside, including any CCTVs to catch a glimpse of her. Not to mention this vehicle had untraceable plates. And his group of analysts with the NSA had made sure there would be a complete blackout with the security at the hotel for an hour.

  “Are you okay?” he asked when she still hadn’t spoken after a solid minute. This was her first official field mission by herself. Under normal circumstances he wouldn’t be here but Selene was different, special to him. And if he was being honest, he knew that she had what it took to eventually become a Black Death 9 agent. It wasn’t her age holding her back, though she was young at only twenty, but she was still too untried despite all her training.

  Selene nodded, her jaw clenched tight as she looked out the window of the SUV, away from him. That was when it hit him. She was upset. It looked as if tears glistened in her eyes. Oh, fuck.

  After everything that had happened to her parents and then the shit that had gone down afterward, before he’d taken her under his wing, he’d gotten her counseling. She’d balked at it, but he’d been insistent. It had been part of his hiring requirements. Only a small percentage of the population had the mental fortitude to do what his Black Ops people did long-term. She was one of them. He wasn’t certain if he believed in the nature or nurture theories for how people turned out, but Selene had an amazing ability to compartmentalize things and years of therapy had proved what he’d always known about her—she was made of titanium. But hell, maybe he’d screwed up. Maybe all her psychological tests were wrong. Shit, shit, shit.

  He reached out a hand and placed it reassuringly on her shoulder. “Honey, the first kill is always hard.”

  Her head whipped around, her contact-colored brown eyes widening in surprise. “What . . .” She shook her head, a frown pulling her eyebrows together. “I’m not upset because that guy is dead. I’m pissed at myself because I almost screwed up.” She punched the cushioned leather seat next to her thigh. “Son of a bitch! I was so focused on making sure his drink was the one poisoned that I almost knocked over a tray of drinks one of the servers was carrying.” She cursed again, her self-loathing clear.

  Wesley and his team had eyes on the inside, though nothing was being recorded—no evidence of this op would ever surface—so he’d seen her the whole time. “I saw you. You were perfect.”

  Jaw clenched tight, she shook her head. “I got too into my head, was too focused on the target. I could’ve made a mistake that got me noticed.”

  Relief hit him square in the chest. Selene was always hard on herself, no matter the situation. So this wasn’t out of the ordinary and he hadn’t been wrong about her capabilities. He let out a low laugh.

  She punched him the shoulder, though not very hard. “This is funny?”

  “No, I just . . . thought you felt guilty.”

  Snorting, she tugged the wig off and let out a sigh. “That POS doesn’t deserve my guilt. He doesn’t deserve anything but what he got. Actually, he deserves way worse but . . .” She shrugged, not continuing and seemingly less angry at herself.

  People handled their first missions differently. He’d seen all the reactions, including this one, before. He was just thankful he and the various psychologists had been right about Selene. He had a feeling she’d do extremely well in this world and he was almost never wrong.

  Sighing, he rolled on his side and attempted to get comfortable. He needed to stay sharp and this wasn’t helping. Focusing on the office sounds he let the steadiness lull him to sleep.

  • • •

  Tasev looked down at the architectural plans for the first water plant his team planned to hit. Every second that passed he grew more exhilarated at the thought of so many people dying, of making it clear to the United States government that they would suffer for taking away his sons. Even ordinary citizens would feel his wrath, his pain.

  He glanced up as the door to his private office opened. Grisha took a step inside, as quiet as a ghost. The man kept his brown hair cut so close to his head that his scalp was v
isible and his dark blue eyes were shrewd. He’d been with Tasev only a very short time, mere months, but had proved himself valuable. So far he didn’t seem to have any vices. He didn’t even indulge in the prostitutes Tasev hired for his men. It was odd that he turned down free pussy but some men didn’t like to pay for it or accept paid women. Tasev could actually respect that. Grisha nodded once at Tasev. “The men are here as you requested.”

  It was three in the morning and he’d been holding off telling anyone about this until the last minute. All his men knew that Schmidt was his prisoner but that he was not to be harmed under any circumstances. However, they didn’t know the full details of Tasev’s plans. Only Vasily had known everything.

  Grisha knew a little, but only about his plans to poison various water supplies. He’d been helpful in getting some of the blueprints, solidifying his role in Tasev’s organization. Soon Tasev would tell Grisha about his goal to blackmail the US into paying for the antitoxin to Schmidt’s toxin—when the doctor finally figured it out—but for now no one needed to know about Tasev’s ultimate goal of revenge and becoming even richer.

  “Send them in. You remain too,” Tasev said.

  With a flick of Grisha’s hand, two men appeared behind him. Abram and Kolya. They would each lead a four-man team. Both had experience in the ground forces of the Russian military and were well trained.

  Tasev stepped back from the table and motioned for both of them to approach. Abram rubbed a hand over his face, but he could tell neither of them had drunk last night, per his orders. Good. “You know the drills we’ve been running?” He’d been conducting simulated drills at various warehouses he owned around Miami with the sole purpose of getting them ready for this mission.

  They both nodded, with Grisha remaining silent about a foot away from them.

  “All your practice will now be put to good use. In less than thirty minutes you will each be heading to different destinations, each running your own four-man team. I’ve already selected the others but you two will be point. Just as in the simulations, everyone is expendable.” It was much easier to just kill on missions. He nodded at the plans on the table. For missions he never used phones or computers to convey his orders. Everything was a hard copy. “These are the designs for two different water plants you will be infiltrating. The layouts should look familiar.”

  Both men scanned the blueprints and nodded, not asking questions until he was done. They knew better.

  “I’ve compiled a file for each of you containing smaller versions and with all the relevant information you’ll need. Abram, you will arrive at your destination around eleven. Kolya, at noon. You will infiltrate, then meet up with your contacts. All their information is in the files. You will transport the containers that are already waiting in your vehicles. They’ll know what to do with the contents. Once they’ve completed their part of the mission, you kill them.” He’d paid off one employee and threatened the family of another to help with the breach of the water supply. That was the tricky part, which is why he’d chosen smaller towns to start. This was his testing ground. “When you leave, destroy the semitrucks and find alternate transportation.”

  He would soon reveal what he’d done to Schmidt, hoping to make him work faster. He knew enough about the doctor that his guilt would eat at him for being responsible for the deaths of so many people. He’d be driven to provide an antitoxin even faster.

  “Any questions?” he asked.

  They both shook their heads and left like the good soldiers they were. He paid them well, gave them women, and they got to kill as part of their job description. It was the perfect setup and why his men stayed even when many were fearful of him.

  But Grisha wasn’t fearful. Tasev had realized that from the first moment he’d come to work for him. He also met Tasev’s gaze, though never in challenge, so Tasev allowed it. “I have something else for you to do. I need you to meet with the German. He’s set up an appointment for me but you will meet with him now.”

  Grisha’s eyebrows rose slightly. “It’s three in the morning.”

  Tasev frowned. It wasn’t exactly a question but he couldn’t tell if Grisha was questioning his authority. “He will still be awake.”

  Grisha nodded and Tasev relaxed.

  “He met with The Wolf in person. I want his personal take on the hitter.” The assassin, who was surprisingly a female. “Gauge his speech, everything.” That was something else about Grisha, he was very good at evaluating people and Tasev planned to utilize that to the fullest extent.

  The German had never set him up with anyone who turned out not to be who they said they were, but Tasev always did his homework before any meeting.

  “I’ll report back as soon as I have anything,” Grisha said before leaving.

  Once the door shut behind him Tasev smiled, pleased with the way things were turning out. He went to the minibar near the window and poured himself a shot of vodka. He rarely indulged in alcohol but today called for it.

  By this evening, his plan would be in motion and panic would be spreading across the southeast. A mere hint of the devastation he would unleash in the weeks ahead.

  Chapter 8

  Mole: an agent that has embedded himself into an organization.

  Selene was surrounded by the most amazing sense of warmth and security. Sinking into the blissful sensation, she cuddled against her pillow, but it was hard. That was wrong though. Forcing herself to wake up she realized a few things all at once. One, she was cuddled up against Levi like he was her freaking pillow. Two, his bare chest felt amazing beneath her fingertips and for some reason she was stroking his skin like she had every right in the world. Finally, he was definitely awake and there was no mistaking the erection she felt against the leg she’d thrown over him in her apparent attempt to hump him in her sleep. Worse, she was actually turned on. She was damp between her thighs. Had she been making noises in her sleep?

  How mortifying. She immediately stilled her fingers and his breathing kicked up the slightest notch. Taking a chance, she shifted her head and looked up at him to find him watching her intently.

  Faint morning light was streaming through one of the windows and even in the dimness of the room she could see his expression clearly. And he wanted her.

  Badly.

  His dark eyes gleamed with such a potent lust that the apology she’d had all ready for molesting him in her sleep died on her lips.

  When his gaze landed on her mouth she knew what he was about to do before he did it. His mouth crushed over hers and moving lightning fast, he’d rolled over, pinning her to the mattress underneath him. He was so hot and hard that the sharpest punch of hunger slammed through her at the feel of him covering her with that deliciously muscular body.

  Selene knew she should stop this. It was beyond stupid to be intimate with someone on a mission, but this wasn’t just anyone. This was Levi Lazaro, a man likely still in love with his dead wife and walking a deadly edge between right and wrong. Not to mention he’d gone completely off the reservation and she couldn’t trust his motivations.

  And to top it off, her past experiences with men weren’t the greatest. Her ex-boyfriend, if she could even call him that, had tried to sabotage her job because of his own insecurities. Clearly she couldn’t trust her judgment when it came to men. But . . . damn, Levi felt amazing.

  She quickly shut down that annoying voice in her head when his tongue dipped inside her mouth, teasing against hers in the most delicious way. It was frenzied yet somehow sweet. She wrapped her arms around him, tracing her fingers down the hard, muscular lines of his back.

  It was like the man was carved from stone. He’d left his pants on but it didn’t matter. She could feel his hard length pressing against the juncture between her thighs, their clothes blocking nothing.

  Unable to stop herself, she continued downward, stopping only to grab onto his firm ass. She wanted to feel him without any barriers but wasn’t brave enough to do that just yet. Maybe she’d nev
er be.

  Her touch changed something in him because he groaned into her mouth, his kisses becoming hotter. When he slid a hand under her shirt, his fingers skimming her bare stomach, she jerked against him as if he’d singed her. His callused fingers created a scorching path straight to one of her breasts.

  She should be shocked by his bold move, but she wanted this, wanted him in a way that scared her. She knew it wasn’t just physical. The man was so broken it killed her when she knew how different he’d been before. This wasn’t about owing him or any bullshit like that; she wanted to see him smile, to regain some of the man he’d been.

  Not that she thought sleeping with her would do any of that for him, but they both deserved some relief and for some reason she trusted him with her body. He was safe in a way others weren’t because he knew what she did for a living and when all this was over, they’d be going their separate ways. That made him safe to . . . use in a sense. She felt bad even thinking that but it was true. Because this type of attraction was rare, that much she knew. When he lightly rubbed a thumb over her nipple he moaned as if the sound had been torn from him.

  Selene rolled her hips against him, feeling almost mindless with need, excited about what might happen between them, when he suddenly stopped. Pulling back, he stared down at her, his chest rising and falling erratically in tune with her own breathing.

  She wasn’t sure what to say so she started to withdraw her hands from him when he suddenly blurted, “I’m sorry.”

  She blinked, unsure why he was sorry. “I was . . . willing.” Which he had to know.

  His jaw tightened for a long moment, his eyes never leaving her face. “I know. I feel . . . guilty.”

  Hurt and anger erupted inside her, but she didn’t outwardly respond, not wanting him to know his words affected her. “About me?” she asked carefully, inwardly cursing when her voice shook.

  “Yes. No. Not about you. About how I feel about you. When I saw you at Shah’s party my reaction was . . . intense.” He looked away when he said the last part, as if in shame. His profile was hard and unforgiving.