Ellery peeked around Mike’s broad shoulders and looked at Tasha. “How’s Lucas?”
Sutton fought off a wince. In the middle of the fighting and fear she’d forgotten about Lucas and how the not knowing must be tearing Ellery apart. If Josiah were the one in the hospital bed far away . . . Sutton couldn’t even think about that.
“He came through surgery fine.” Tasha dropped a stack of papers and her laptop on the table next to where Ellery sat on top. “West and Lexi are flying to meet him at a neutral location.”
Sutton remembered all the rules about staying put and no reinforcements. “Where?”
Tasha didn’t look up from her paperwork. “Undisclosed.”
Of course. Josiah explained how Tasha could be curt but that it was her way of protecting them all. If no one knew where to find team members, they couldn’t cough up the intel.
She watched him walk around the table now, all tall and hot and focused on the job ahead. Even without her glasses she noticed every little thing. When he sat next to her she had to refrain from curling into him and trying to forget the last few hours. Instead she sat still, but she did smile when he put his hand on her knee.
She relaxed into the touch and dropped her voice to a whisper. “Who’s West again?”
“On Bravo team,” Mike said. “Lexi is his girlfriend.”
“West took the lead on the Pakistan operation that wounded Benton.” Josiah squeezed her leg, then reached up for a water bottle in the center of the table. “Lexi has medical training.”
More bits and pieces. Sutton tried to remember all the names and how they fit together. Bravo and Delta. It was a lot to take in. Very cloak and dagger, more like an action movie than reality to her. But these guys lived it. They sometimes talked in code and half sentences while she rushed to catch up.
Tasha sat down and stared at Ellery. “What do we need to know?”
“Benton specifically wants Mike, Josiah, and Harlan.” Ellery glanced at Sutton. “He also referred to you as a loose end.”
At first Sutton couldn’t believe Ellery kept all that straight through the horror of being attacked. Then her words sank in and something inside Sutton clunked. She felt the hard stop and the hollowness in her stomach. “Because of my mother.”
Ellery shook her head. “I don’t know what that means.”
“I’ll fill you in later. Basically, Sutton’s mom drew out Benton, then using another name and seeming to be innocuous, when she touched off an investigation that killed off Benton’s half brother.” Mike smiled. “Oh, forget later. There it is.”
“That would explain why he wants you out of the picture. You can tie him to his past, which may mean I can find him. Finally get one step ahead of him.” Ellery tightened her hands over the bandages, then jumped off the table.
Tasha grabbed a thick file and put it in the middle of the table. “We’ll need that advantage with Harlan . . .”
Another death. More destruction. It all piled around Sutton until she couldn’t breathe.
A resolved silence fell over the room. Josiah finally broke it. “What about your dad?”
“Gone before I was born and died while driving drunk shortly after.” Sutton spit out the biographical information like it didn’t matter. To her, it didn’t. Glenn was out of his life and never really in it. Her mother described him as irresponsible and insisted she learned a lesson about men from him and little else. “Benton doesn’t have anything to do with him.”
“So he was a loner. No real ties,” Josiah said, filling in the rest.
The bloodless explanation echoed inside her. She slowly turned to look at him. “I’m not sure if I should be impressed or ticked off that you know all that.”
She inhaled and tried to remember who the people around the table really were. They dug around and looked for connections. She did, too, but not on this level. Not with their resources and the wide net they cast. Looking at every possible lead made sense to them, and that could mean invading her privacy. She didn’t fight it. For now.
Josiah shoved some of the files around. “We know anything else about Benton’s brother?”
Mike smiled. “You mean the dead one.”
“Is there another?” Sutton asked, suddenly worried there were more nutjobs out there blowing people and buildings up.
Ellery typed, mostly with one hand. “Just the half brother, Ronald.”
Tasha looked at Ellery. “Rip that family’s life apart. I want to know who they know, where they ever lived. Where every last penny is kept.”
“Right.” Ellery kept typing. Never looked up.
“Then dive into Olivia Dahl’s personal life.”
Energy whipped up around her. Sutton didn’t know what she’d said or why they all seemed to be moving and reacting, but they were. “Wait a second. Do you think my mom was involved in whatever happened with the toxin back then because—”
Tasha held up a hand. “No.”
The denial sucked some of the spiraling out of Sutton’s anger. “Then why?”
She didn’t realize her nerves were jumping or that her foot tapped against the floor until Josiah put a hand on her thigh again. “Benton went after her. She was collateral damage. Just as you are. Just as others could be.”
She’d been down that road as well. Too many deaths littered the ground when Benton blipped off the map. She’d been locked in this battle so long that having people step up and help her, believe in her, threw her off. She came out fighting. Went on the defensive.
She shut all of those instincts down. With her elbows on the table, she sat there unmoving as the weight of all they said crushed her. All good news, but still. Emotions whipped up. She seemed so close to getting what she wanted, but still she thought about Harlan and the danger. The simple fact that this wasn’t over.
“Ellery?” Tasha handed Ellery a piece of paper with a series of numbers written on it. “I borrowed Benton’s trick and used air surveillance.”
“What does that mean?” Sutton’s real question was how she did that.
Mike must have gotten it because he laughed. “You don’t want to know.”
“Look at the feeds and track every car, bus, or plane out of that warehouse area and find out where it went,” Tasha said. “One of them will lead us to Benton, or at least his associate.”
“I’m on it.”
Sutton looked at Ellery’s bandages and the dark circles under her eyes. “Don’t you need time off?”
“Not until we find out exactly what happened to Harlan and make sure Benton is dead,” Mike said.
Josiah sat up straighter. “Oh, we’re going to kill that fucker. After we recover Harlan.”
Sutton’s head kept spinning. In her heart she’d started to think of him as gone. She was pretty sure that’s what Mike said back at the warehouse. “Wait, are you saying he got out?”
“We think he may have been dragged out,” Josiah said on a deep inhale. “There was someone else in that room.”
Mike nodded. “I saw him, too.”
“I’ve had some of our assets check the building now that it’s safe to go back in.” Tasha’s mouth flatlined. “There’s no body in it.”
Assets . . . body. Sutton turned it all over in her head. “What does that mean?”
Josiah’s jaw tightened. “Benton likely has Harlan.”
One horrible thought screamed in her brain: That might be worse than being dead. “Which means?”
Josiah looked at her then. “Something big is coming.”
“Harlan, though that’s not your real name, is it?” Benton took great pride in standing in front of the man while holding his top-secret work file in his hands.
The guy looked like hell. The bullet had torn through his shoulder and had his arm hanging at an odd angle. Without painkillers or anesthesia, Frederick had sewn Harlan up enough to get him through this next part. Said he never even flinched. Now he wore a bandage where the red soaked through in spots.
Then there w
ere the cuts from the glass and the way his eyes stayed unfocused thanks to Frederick nailing him in the head. Any other man would be unconscious. “Nothing to say? I must admit, Tasha has you all very well trained.”
The silence continued for a few more beats. Harlan sat tied to the chair and stared first at Benton then past him to where Frederick leaned against the far wall. “Go to hell.”
“Interesting thought.” The sensation of almost being burned alive was not one Harlan should discuss. Benton had experience in that area. Now Harlan would, too. “It turns out you will be beneficial to me after all.”
“I’m not helping you.”
Benton ignored that. “See, some very nasty people are upset about what happened in Pakistan.”
Through the cuts and bruises Harlan smiled. “How did it feel to catch on fire?”
“Oh, you’ll know soon enough.” Then he wouldn’t be smiling. He’d be too busy screaming, and Benton couldn’t wait to tape every minute of it. “See, I’ve decided to hold an auction. The winner gets the prototype of the bomb vest, but the real gift is you.”
Harlan’s swollen smile faded. “No one knows who I am.”
“That’s the beauty of this. Thanks to Pearce I know who you are, who every member of the Alliance is, and about many of the operations you’ve undertaken. That information is valuable. There are a lot of people who would like to see you all pay for your interference.”
Frederick laughed. “Now they can.”
“And you pocket the cash and go hide in a cave in Pakistan.” Harlan spit a wad of blood on the floor by Benton’s feet. “Good luck with that.”
He refused to show any reaction. He would not give Harlan the satisfaction of killing him too early. Not when there was so much fun to be had in waiting.
“No, those days are over. I picked out this lovely spot on a pile of rocks that used to be a fortress. Now it’s home.” When he inhaled he could almost smell the orange blossoms. One of the oldest towns in Spain, with the bullfighting ring and the mosques.
Frederick cleared his throat. “Sir, we should—”
Caution usually proved to be a wise decision. Benton exercised it with ruthless efficiency, which explained why no one had seen him or could identify him until the Alliance came knocking. But Harlan’s time was almost over. He should know there would be no more hiding. And it didn’t hurt to rub his nose in his complete failure. “Warm breezes through the villa. Ruins to explore. Good food and wine. Just me and the tourists.”
“Boss.” Frederick came off the wall and walked toward Harlan.
Benton held up a hand to stop any lecture Frederick might be stupid enough to give. “Seemed only fair to give the man something since he’ll be dead tomorrow and won’t be able to tell a soul.”
“True.”
“But I do want you to know that you won’t be the last. I’m going to take particular pleasure in sending Josiah home to his daddy in pieces.” Benton had been living for that day and now it had arrived.
“You’re going to fail.”
Harlan sounded sure but Benton knew better. He had not survived this long on luck. “Never.”
21
JOSIAH HATED being right. He stared at the laptop screen and the new password blinking in front of him. Another message from Benton via the Dark Web. Every fiber and every cell called on him to walk away and not sign into the link. But he’d never been a coward and he wasn’t about to start now.
“Are you okay?” The fresh floral scent from whatever Sutton used in the shower followed her into the room.
Her husky voice stopped him from touching the keyboard. He wanted to lie but she’d be the one person who might be able to tell if he did. “No.”
Scrubbed clean of makeup and the grime from the explosion, she looked bright and sunny. Wore a genuine smile. One that said she was happy to be alive and realistic about what could happen next. Her shiny hair fell over her shoulders and those dark pants hugged every sexy curve.
She walked in and thoughts of death fell away. For the first time in years he saw something other than the job. With her he didn’t need to justify or lie. She knew the story of his mother and didn’t rush to fill in the silence with empty words. Forget the family trappings and the titles and the land, she wanted him as he was—scarred and riding the thin edge of sanity.
After everything they’d been through he knew she’d be able to handle this, too. He pointed at the screen.
She watched him as she walked around the table to stand at his side. “That looks like—”
“Yeah.”
Her hand landed on his back as her cheek rubbed against his. “Josiah?”
He debated saying more. His job depended on him being strong and confident. Kick down a door to a gunrunner’s warehouse, infiltrate a human trafficking ring, rescue a journalist held by militants. He’d done it all. But losing someone on his team had the potential to lay them all out. This business almost guaranteed an early death. That didn’t mean Josiah accepted the end. He fought it with every breath. Which made typing in that password so damn difficult.
Her hand lay on his arm and he covered it with his palm. “I’m going to open this site and Harlan is going to be dead or worse.”
“A week ago I would have asked what could be worse than death.” She sighed. “Now I know.”
“I wish you didn’t.” He’d do anything to hide that truth from her, to let her live in happy denial like most people did.
She glanced at the keyboard, then back to him. “You can’t save him if you don’t look.”
If only it were that easy. Harlan always had an uneasy relationship with the other men in the Alliance. About ten years older and accustomed to being in the field and acting a certain way, Harlan often disapproved of the way Josiah and Ford ran the individual teams. Harlan could best be described as British old school intelligence officer. He fought when necessary but ran over every plan ad nauseam, trying to cover every contingency.
Sometimes he forgot that real-life scenarios didn’t come with a playbook. But he was a solid man and he didn’t deserve whatever end Benton intended to give him.
It all played in his mind but Josiah didn’t say any of it. Not out loud. But somehow she knew. The awareness hummed through her body. Refueled his energy reserves.
She pressed her nose against his neck. “Don’t do that thing where you take on more guilt.”
“He wasn’t supposed to be in that building.” That fact kept replaying in Josiah’s mind. The man so devoted to plans and protocol broke both, and now . . . who knew where Harlan was now.
“Actually, it was supposed to be a bloodbath. A bit of a show. One that Benton could enjoy over time.” When he started to congratulate her on her reasoning she wiggled her eyebrows at him. “What, you think you’re the only one who could figure it out? I’m somewhat trained, remember? Being around you guys has only increased my skills.”
“Impressive woman.” And he meant it. She nailed it all. That’s exactly what he and Tasha had figured out.
Sutton shot him one of those heated looks that promised more than a life with a gun. “Sexy man.”
Much more of that and he’d forget about every responsibility. He had to compartmentalize his feelings for her, tuck them away, to stay on track. The throbbing in his head and seeing the exhaustion tugging at her eyes brought him back to reality. “I hate the idea that you could have been grabbed.”
“But I wasn’t and now you need to be the Josiah I know, or whatever your real name is, and do your job.” She tapped the table right in front of the keyboard. “Save your friend, and if that’s not possible avenge his death.”
“I like the bloodthirsty side of you.” And he liked the way she handled him, steering him where he needed to go. He was man enough to admit her getting a little bossy turned him on. “Benedict.”
He clicked a button on his watch to send a signal to Tasha, Ellery, and Mike to come into the room. They needed rest and time to prep, but everyone needed to s
ee this . . . even if none of them wanted to.
When he started to sit down, Sutton put a hand on his arm and stopped him. “What did you say?”
Oh, she knew, but he did like stunning her. “My real name.”
“Are you allowed to tell me that?”
“I wanted you to know.” That was the truth. He didn’t disclose it to anyone because despite his issue with his father Josiah didn’t want to put him in danger. But he trusted her. The days of looking for things to find wrong with who she was and how she got there were long gone.
“What’s going on?” Tasha walked out of the room she was using as a bedroom and slipped around to their side of the table. “Ellery thinks she knows where . . .” Tasha leaned in closer. “A password.”
“Damn it.” Mike delivered his assessment from the doorway to the kitchen. “Just enter it. We need to know.”
Tasha sat down and started typing while the rest of them crowded around her. The screen flipped. At first a gray box appeared, then the picture focused.
Except for Sutton’s sharp intake of breath the room stayed quiet. No one said anything. All eyes stayed forward as if they waited for the next horrible moment to arrive.
The image hit Josiah like a slam to the gut. It was happening all over again. A live feed he couldn’t stop. Even yelling wouldn’t help because no one on the side of the screen could hear. No, this beamed into their lives for Benton’s sick entertainment. They could only listen and watch in horror.
Harlan, beaten and injured, his shoulder wrapped and bleeding. But that was the good part. No one could miss the bomb strapped to his chest or the wires leading to his arm and to a cut in his chest. Tied to the chair and wearing a gag in his mouth, he stared into the camera.
Josiah could see Harlan swallow. Watch him breathe. The unwelcome sensation of being one step behind hit again. He’d tried to block the video and the memory of his uncle so he could get through this assignment. Now it all came rushing back. The bomb. The countdown. The reality that he could not fix this.
Facing Fire Page 21