by Lora Leigh
Graham shrugged. “Perhaps the insurgents found it.”
Dawg grunted at that.
“Strange.” Natches clucked his tongue. “They were meant as payment to Afghani and Iraqi security forces for information on troop movements and deployments, yet those payments never made it. I knew they hadn’t, because quite a few of those forces were double agents, weren’t they?”
Fuck. Where the hell had the bastard gotten his information?
“That’s a hell of an imagination your contacts have, Natches,” he stated, holding back the anger brewing inside him. “Imaginations like that could get men killed.”
Or women.
Natches leaned forward then, his expression hardening, his gaze becoming brighter. “Dawg and I, we’re the men you want to trust to cover your ass, Graham,” he stated savagely. “Now, you can tell us what the fuck’s going on, or we’re collecting Lyrica before we leave. And I think we both know she’ll probably go.”
Graham wanted to believe she wouldn’t leave with her brother and cousin, but he knew how hurt, how uncertain she had been.
How angry she had been before he’d overwhelmed her with pleasure.
His gaze slipped to Elijah, watching as the other man gave an imperceptible nod of his head in agreement. Graham might be pissed as hell at the other agent, but Elijah had been chosen as his second-in-command for a reason. Because he knew what the hell he was doing, and he was loyal. Breathing out in weary resignation, Graham picked up his coffee cup before moving to the table and taking the remaining seat.
“I don’t have the diamonds,” he told the other men. “You’re right, there were two bags, each holding two million, five hundred thousand apiece in perfectly cut and polished diamonds. Only one bag remained between the two locations where they were hidden.”
“And the partner’s body?” Dawg asked quietly, leaning forward to rest his weight on his forearms as he placed them on the table.
“We’re not certain.” Graham shook his head. “AI had his DNA on file, but a virus was detected in the file manager and a change placed in his file several days before the body reported to be his was recovered. He was, at one time, a damned good hacker before signing on with the independent security agency being used to back up the mission. Army intelligence suspects he’s still alive, but we’ve found zero hint of it, let alone confirmation.”
“So you were working on the assumption he was still alive?” Natches asked. “My source in Afghanistan believes you actually have the diamonds.”
“One bag is actually missing. The other is locked in a secure vault at CIA headquarters in Langley,” Elijah said. “The suspicion that Graham stole the diamonds came from outside the agency. We’re trying to track it down at present and maintain the idea that army intelligence believes in his innocence, while allowing the rumor to continue circulating among certain groups. I need to know your source.”
Graham had known that was coming. It was one of the reasons he hadn’t faced the knowledge Natches had seemed to have since returning. They were tracking the security agent’s contacts, looking for a hint as to where it may have come from, although he was only one of the sources from which intelligence was attempting to unravel the flow of information.
Natches turned his head slowly and stared back at Elijah.
“Natches, kill me if you have to.” Elijah sighed as though the thought of it really didn’t impress him. “But this information is too damned important. If Betts’s partner isn’t dead then we need to capture him. If he is, then we need to know who in army intelligence is still leaking information that Graham has those diamonds.”
“And you dragged my sister into this bullshit?” Dawg snarled then, turning on Graham. “You dared to mess with her—”
“Whoever’s after those diamonds dragged her in,” Graham snapped softly, glaring at both men. “That, or the partner, Betts’s lover, isn’t dead and he’s after revenge as well as the cache. That’s the only explanation that makes sense.”
“And her lover, partner, whatever the fuck he was to her, or anyone else would know Lyrica’s a weakness to you how?” Dawg’s voice was quieter now, more dangerous than ever before.
“Did you ever see Betts Laren?” Elijah said. “She’s almost Lyrica’s double, except for the shorter hair. I accused Graham earlier of being interested in Lyrica because he couldn’t get over Betts, but maybe he was sleeping with Betts because of Lyrica.”
Graham shot the man a silencing look. Son of a bitch, he was going to have to teach Elijah, at the end of his fist, to keep his damned mouth shut when the Mackays got nosy.
“Mackays don’t play second fiddle to anyone,” Dawg grunted with dangerous emphasis. “Especially my sisters.” His pale, furious gaze moved back to Graham then. “How would anyone involved in that shit know my sister is your weakness?”
“Fuck if I know.” Plowing his fingers through his hair in restless anger, Graham fought to find the answer to that one. “That’s the only reason I’ve pushed this suspicion away a thousand times, Dawg. But we had an attempted intrusion this morning. Dressed fully in black, with a military-style black mask covering his face. At first, there was nothing to identify him from the clothes or the figure, until I looked at how he wore them. The security team covering Betts wore the same uniform all the agents at that security agency wore. But they distinguished themselves in the way they wore them. Every other soldier in that agency tucks in any clothing edge possible. Shirts in pants. Pant legs in boots. Masks tucked beneath shirts. Ammo vests secured and snug in the vicinity of their waistbands.”
“And that team changed this how?” Dawg asked.
“Black bands at the wrists covering from the edges of their shirts to several inches above that. Black covers of similar fabric over the laces of their boots. Elijah has an image of the intruder taken with his phone.”
Both Mackays turned to Elijah as he pulled the picture up.
“It took me a while to realize why the image bothered me,” Graham said, grimacing. “Whoever that is, if it’s not Betts’s partner, then it’s someone from his team or someone very, very close to it.”
“I started tracking the other two men who were part of his team,” Elijah stated. “One is currently on assignment in Africa: Whit Chaney, an explosives expert. I spoke to a contact of mine there and he sent satellite proof of his presence. We haven’t located the second member yet, though. Bradley Connor.”
“Bradley has some computer hacking experience.” Graham frowned. “Our intelligence didn’t indicate that it was enough to plant that virus, though. But anything’s possible at this point,” he admitted.
“I want to know how they knew to use Lyrica against you,” Dawg repeated, evidently determined to get answers Graham didn’t have.
“Dawg, if I had that answer to give you, then all of this would make a hell of a lot more sense than it does.” Graham stared back at him levelly. “I never mentioned Lyrica, the Mackays, or home. Betts was even unaware of the fact that I had a sister, and she died before I could question her.”
In his arms. Betts had died in his arms, her green eyes filled with regret and pain as she’d haltingly revealed the plan she and the man she’d loved had hatched.
“I knew I could get in your bed.” She smiled sadly, blood easing past her lips to trail down her cheek. “I knew your weakness, Graham.” Her gaze flickered, her breathing rattling. “It hurts, Graham … it hurts …”
Wiping his hands over his face, he shook his head, at a loss as to how to get the answers he needed.
“What makes you believe this has anything to do with what happened there?” Natches asked him then. “I need more than suspicion.”
“The Freedom League’s last attempt at vengeance against the Mackays was made two years ago,” Graham said. “With the judge’s cooperation, DHS has managed since then to round up the last of the aging politicians who were part of that militia. They’re gone. The men and women who conspired with Chandler and Dayle Mackay are dead,
dying, or suffering from Alzheimer’s in several rest homes. There’s no reason to strike out at Lyrica unless it’s in retaliation or to use her against someone who knows her well.”
“Or loves her well,” Natches suggested. “What would make your ex-lover believe you loved Lyrica?”
Graham shot Elijah a warning look. One that promised him that the Mackays were treading on his last patient nerve.
“Natches,” Elijah said, “we’ve been trying to draw out whoever escaped with half of those diamonds for two years now. Every conversation, every moment spent together between Graham and Betts Laren has been gone over with a fine-tooth comb. He’s had several polygraph tests as well as being debriefed by CIA interrogators. If Lyrica’s name had been mentioned, trust me, it would have come up by now.”
Natches ignored this point, turning his head to Graham instead. “What about memory enhancement protocols?”
Memory enhancement protocols? Graham sat back in his chair and stared at Natches in disgust. “I’m not a lab rat, Mackay. I’m a fully trained intelligence officer with the Marines and known for my ability to overcome or identify every drug they tried on me during training. The MCIA put a lot of effort into training me for several years before sending me to Afghanistan.”
“Marine Corps Intelligence Activity,” Dawg grunted. “Come on, Graham …”
“Since Secure Sector, the security group that went in with us, began taking contracts for the military, the percentage of lost, missing, or simply stolen money, jewels, and equipment out of the Middle East has risen. Secure Sector has a contract with the Marines to provide cover for them as needed, which left the ball in MCIA’s court to apprehend those responsible. I don’t need memory enhancement protocols because I would have known if I’d been drugged or if any attempts to take me in any other way were used.”
“Then we’re missing something.” Dawg sighed, shaking his head. “There has to be an answer.”
For a situation where there had to be an answer, Graham couldn’t come up with anything.
“I still have some things to go over,” Graham admitted. “I’ve only recently connected a few of the dots.” While he was lying against Lyrica, his body vibrating from a release that had damned near blown his mind, a thought had slammed into his brain.
What would he do if anything happened to her? If he lost her, the way Betts’s lover had lost her. The suspicion that the lover had survived had only grown in past months. Contacts the agent had used in the past were missing or dead. Lines of communication he was known to employ had been used several times.
Of course, it could have been someone else. There was room for doubt, but if there was one thing Garrett Brock, his father, had taught him, it was never to trust coincidence.
“I want her away from you,” Dawg stated then.
Graham bit down on the instinctive protest that rose to his lips. Letting her go would be for the best; he knew that. If this was because of him, then the danger to her rose every day that she was with him.
“That’s not your decision to make, brother of mine.”
All eyes turned to Lyrica as she stepped into the kitchen.
“She moves through this house quieter than a frickin’ brush of air,” Elijah complained as he slowly moved his hand back from the weapon tucked beneath his shirt and glared at Graham. “What the hell did you do? Give her lessons or something?”
“I’ll take credit for that, if you don’t mind,” Dawg grumped as he rose to his feet and opened his arms for the tiny, delicate young woman he’d accepted into his heart, along with her sisters, the first second he’d realized who they were.
Lyrica moved into his embrace, her arms wrapping around his waist as Dawg placed a gentle kiss at the top of her head before she moved back.
“You called Natches earlier,” he stated, staring down at her, though Graham couldn’t see the man’s expression. “You okay?”
“I’m okay.” Her voice was soft, but even Graham heard the hesitation in it before she added, “But I’m not leaving.”
He couldn’t stop the flare of satisfaction that rose inside him at her words and her refusal to leave him.
“Even if you were targeted because of him?” Natches asked softly.
Graham knew what they were doing now. Attempting to break her trust in him, to break her desire to stay, and he was damned if he could blame them. If it were Kye in this position, then he’d do the same thing.
Lyrica’s gaze met his then. “What are they talking about?”
The time for explanations had come, far sooner than he’d ever imagined. Hell, he’d hoped never to have to reveal exactly what had happened to him. That part of his life had nearly been over. They were growing closer to whoever had been tracking the diamonds and when they found him, or her, then the threats from that particular direction would cease. Graham’s part in the investigation into Secure Sector would be finished.
It hadn’t waited, though.
Briefly, keeping details to as much of a minimum as possible, he told her their suspicions. As each of her questions was answered, he watched her grow quieter, her gaze become cooler. Sitting beside him in the chair Dawg had vacated, her hands linked in her lap, she was silent, wary, as the last of the explanations were given.
“I actually suggested an answer to the question of how they learned about you,” Natches drawled in irritation. “Memory enhancement protocols are a series of drugs that, with the subject’s cooperation, have actually been known to draw out details the person was unaware existed. And in some cases with agents who have agreed to it, they’ve actually learned they are susceptible to some truth serum drugs.”
Lyrica was shaking her head slowly.
“It’s an option,” Natches growled, his anger finally showing. “And by god, I want answers.”
Her head jerked up at the sharp demand and, for the first time, Graham saw the fear in her eyes.
“Lyrica?”
She swallowed tightly. “You’ve never mentioned the one letter I sent you two years ago, just after you were home for that short leave.”
He stared at her, watching as her gaze dropped to her fingers once again, a flush mounting her cheeks.
God, he remembered that summer. He’d found her in the gardens beyond the swimming pool, stepping along the cool, shaded stones in nothing but that damned emerald bikini. He’d joined her beneath the arbor, watching as she settled in the thick, heavy cushions of the swing before joining her.
“I didn’t get a letter, Lyrica,” he finally told her, feeling the certainty that somehow Betts or Dorne, her lover, had found that letter first.
She nodded then. “I thought perhaps it had been lost in the mail.” A bitter smile shaped her lips. “When you came back last winter, though, it seemed that perhaps you might have read it.” A little shrug lifted her shoulders as she reminded him of the blizzard and how close he had come to taking her as another woman lay upstairs awaiting him.
“What was in the letter?” Natches asked, his voice silky soft. A second later he shot Graham a glare as a flush broke over her face.
“It wasn’t what I said that was important,” she whispered. “I sent a picture, though. One I thought he might keep.”
Lyrica could feel the chill of guilt racing over her as she lifted her gaze to Graham’s, seeing the heavy regret in his eyes and hearing his voice as once again he whispered how sorry he was.
If his enemies had found the picture of her, in the green bikini, that Kye had taken by the pool earlier that day, and they’d read her letter, then they could have assumed she was the weakness they needed.
She would have been the weakness they needed.
The one woman he didn’t think he could have because of her family and her innocence, and added to that, her deliberate flirtation and teasing. He could have returned to battle distracted, only to come face-to-face with a woman who resembled her. A woman he thought he could have without ties, in ways he couldn’t have Lyrica.
“You’re
coming back with us.” Natches’s tone brooked no refusal.
“No matter the reason, it’s me they’re after,” she told her cousin softly. “Whether because they believe Graham has the diamonds or to make him pay for another woman’s death, I’m still the bait.”
“You’re no fucking bait.” Natches came to his feet furiously, his emerald gaze burning with anger now. “You’ll not stay here.”
“I’m over twenty-one, Natches—”
“Then act like it, by god. Start thinking with your head instead of your damned hormones,” he told her roughly as he shot Graham a killing look. “Does he love you, Lyrica? When this is over, will he have been worth risking your life for?”
“Enough!” Graham straightened from his chair then, his voice a lash of fury as he and Natches faced off. “I’ll be damned if you’ll stand here and insult her for something she has no fault in, Mackay. Stop acting like a damned prick for five seconds—”
“So you don’t have to lose your flavor for this month?” Natches snarled then.
“God. Stop.” Lyrica pushed her way from the table and jumped from the chair, avoiding Dawg’s attempt to pull her to him as she faced all four men now. “You two fight over me like I’m some trophy to be won,” she cried out. “No one can make this choice but me. It was my fault they found something to use against him. It’s me some bastard wants to see dead, not the two of you,” she informed her brother and her cousin harshly as she crossed her arms over her breasts, fighting back the icy chill of terror that threatened to grip her. “It’s my fight, too.”
“Because of him.” Natches threw his hand in Graham’s direction. “If he hadn’t been lusting after you like a buck in rut then you wouldn’t be in danger.”
“If I hadn’t been teasing him every chance I had, then maybe he wouldn’t have been like a buck in rut,” she yelled back at her cousin, furious with the accusations flying from his lips. “For god’s sake, Natches, you’ve not exactly lived a safe and peaceful life from what I’ve heard.”