Delta_Ricochet

by Cristin Harber

  Deacon laughed. “You’re too close. Your intel is tarnished, at best. Start driving.”

  “Why do you want to talk to her?”

  “Because Astor wants to know where her intel leak is?”

  “And then?” Colin asked.

  “Kill her.” Deacon shrugged. “But, Buddy.” He clapped. “I’m in the private sector now. She’s smart, knows players. I could use a helping hand—or if she’s pissed off Mayhem enough to land on their hit list, maybe she’s got bank stored.”

  Colin couldn’t believe it. “You want to, what, hire Adelia? As your dark network receptionist?” He couldn’t wrap his mind around what he was hearing. “Or take money not to kill her?”

  “Pretty much.” Deacon nodded.

  “Jesus Christ.”

  “Private sector pays well. You should know.”

  He balked at the comparison of Delta team and… whatever it was that Deacon considered his job. Either way, he needed to get to Adelia, and if Deacon was on a mission to extract intel from her while others had the same task but intended to eliminate her, Colin wanted to keep Deacon nearby and get there ASAP.

  “You’re trying to decide how to explain all this to your boss?” Deacon snickered. “Everyone’s on the move already.”

  “I know.” But, no, he didn’t. Javier led this job.

  “They’re going to think you’ve lost your mind when you make that call.”

  “I’m not calling anyone.” At least right now. He had to figure out how to say everything without sounding like he’d lost his mind.

  “Then, move your ass, or your woman is going to die.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  The screens lining Parker’s wall were lit with the expected blips of Titan Group’s teams in the field. They could have several ops at once, and he oversaw the logistics and coordinated with most of the team commanders. Depending on a team’s specialty and need for a direct communication, some teams never dealt with anyone at HQ besides him. Parker never saw them as anything other than a blip on a screen and voices that he’d memorized.

  But Delta team was not one of them, and as their team had changed over time, growing under Brock’s leadership, so had the men under his command. Tonight, they were a team of ghosts, virtually undetectable in lower Manhattan. Of all the places Parker could picture Delta team, New York City was not one of them. Yet Brock had headed to the Big Apple himself for a client that Parker wanted to be rid of soon as the contract ended.

  Gloria Astor was worth her weight in intelligence, but as a client, she was a headache. Or rather, her security team was. If Richard Delano’s name had chimed onto Parker’s phone one more time before the award dinner tonight, Parker was liable to ask Jared and Brock to call off the contract. Parker had rarely come across such a needy counterpart. Handling Richard came almost to the detriment of their other clients. The man overshared unneeded details and made requests for unnecessary data. Half the time Parker nearly gave him more than Richard asked for to ward off the next request. If that was how they ran Gloria’s security, no wonder they needed a backup team for an event. They had to be buried in data sets and other needless bullshit.

  Jared’s bulldog Thelma padded into Parker’s lair, and Bacon rolled over, making room for her on the pup bed. Where there was Thelma, Boss Man couldn’t be too far behind. Thelma was sneaky, but she had a hell of a time getting through the retina scanner and thumb print pads on her own.

  Jared walked in right as Thelma plopped down. “How’s it going?”

  “Other than a decent-sized fire at Colin’s safe house…” And Boss Man’s pain in the ass Army buddy who Parker wouldn’t bitch over…

  “Fire?” Jared’s expression remained surprisingly blank as though he wanted another piece of information before deciding to worry or rain hell. “Pray tell, what the fuck was the cause?”

  Raining hell was imminent. “The official county fire report will read faulty electricity.”

  “What should it have said?”

  Parker hated this part of his job and tilted his head toward the desk like maybe there would be a Post-It note with a different explanation of reality. “From what I can parse together—”

  “Simple question needs a simple answer.” Jared’s jaw ticked. “The fire was caused by?”

  “A rocket-powered grenade launcher.”

  His eyes widened and the rain of hellfire with Colin’s name in the middle of it didn’t start. Parker watched curiously as Jared muttered and stroked his beard. “Mayhem isn’t playing, are they?”

  Parker shook his head. Mayhem was messy. The accuracy of a grenade strike to a suburban middle-class home would have been hard to ensure. Confirming Adelia’s kill? Harder. Parker wasn’t sure what the tactical purpose, but that was a military-grade operation. It was a scare tactic.

  “Local law enforcement didn’t need medical transport, so for now, Colin and Adelia are gone.”

  Jared’s hand stopped on his beard, lost in thought, until he crossed his arms and turned toward the wall of monitors. “Gone where?”

  “Not sure.” He shrugged and hit refresh on his system though it already refreshed every few seconds. “I’ll update you when they surface.”

  “What’re are they doing?” Jared muttered, shaking his head. “Why wouldn’t Colin check in?”

  “Because his safe house is on fire,” Parker pointed out.

  Jared’s brow arched as he lifted his chin. “Yeah, yeah.” He cracked a couple knuckles. “All right. How about for tonight? Delta team’s good?”

  “Everyone’s in place.”

  “And?” Jared waited.

  “And?” Parker searched his screens for useful information. What more did Boss Man want for an op that was essentially backup?

  “That’s all you’ve got for a job that Brock felt the need to high-tail up to at the last minute?”

  “I didn’t tell him anything different than you.” But that was odd. “They’re eagerly awaiting action or this contract to end.”

  “I bet.” Jared stroked his beard again. “You?”

  “Me?” He searched his desk again. “Was there an analysis I didn’t—”

  “What’s your opinion?”

  Parker shifted in his chair, rolling back. Giving his opinion was pointless and made him uncomfortable. “I’m better suited for statistical analysis.”

  “I want an opinion.”

  “That’s my opinion.”

  His forehead pinched. “Fucking hell—”

  “They’re bored out of their minds.”

  “Was that so hard?” Jared pulled out a chair and leaned back, watching the wall of teams in silence.

  Boss Man had no idea… They’d worked together for more years than he could count. Everything about this, from the question to Jared making himself comfortable here instead of in the war room, was unlikely. Especially the part where Jared sat and stared in silence as though he didn’t know what to ask or strategize.

  Of all the years that Jared had come to his office—not that many in the grand scheme—how many of those times were to study every screen? “Anything I can help you with?”

  “No.”

  Jared grabbed a stick of jerky from a jar on a table then went back to his quiet study of Parker’s screens.

  “What else has been going on,” Jared finally asked.

  Maybe times like this called for unvarnished truth. “Not much.”

  He cocked his head, surprised, and chewed in silence.

  “Delta’s op has me tied up,” Parker finally added.

  “With what?” He took another bite of jerky. “There’s nothing to do but watch.”

  Parker chuckled. “Yeah, one would think.”

  “So?”

  “Your buddy’s a real pain in the ass.”

  Jared laugh, and said, mouth full, “Delano? That asshole?”

  “That asshole’s a nonstop tornado of requests.” He leaned forward to pull up the last dozen emails. “Hyper paranoid, wanting to kno
w where we are, who everyone’s looped in with, that, we’re talking to his team. He’s sending me files and files of data I haven’t looked at, swearing that they’d help us position better, and I don’t know how high maintenance Astor is as an asset, but hell, it’s been like… a blitzkrieg… of…” Parker paused, his mind whirling with the information that Richard Delano had.

  They were all on the same team and normally coordinated with other team counterparts with this information. Though not at this volume. He’d said blitzkrieg without thought but now he couldn’t shake the idea of a dense attacks. But how was this an attack? Why would it be?

  Parker’s gaze floated from one to the next. What was he missing? Delta’s positioning was simple. Maintain the perimeter of the hotel ballroom, the below ground parking lot, and maintain a presence at the Astor residences.

  They were truly back-up in every sense possible, and probably the highest paid back-up he’d ever heard of.

  “Something’s not right.” Jared crumbled the jerky wrapper and pitched it into a trashcan.

  Brock had felt it and left for ground zero, Jared was here now, and Parker didn’t see it. “With Delta?”

  He ignored the question and narrowed his eyes on the map of lower Manhattan. “Where’s everyone positioned?”

  Parker tapped on the keys until one screen showed semi-transparent white dots over the locations of each member. Several appeared stacked on top of one another. “Grayson and Luke are at the residence. Javier’s at the hotel, and it looks like Brock’s made it and is with him. Trace has eyes in the garage, and I’m tapped into the security feeds there. Everywhere. I just have to pick and pull what I want.”

  Jared pushed out of his chair and paced. His jaw flexed, working side to side. “Have we touched base with the FBI investigators?”

  “Delano’s running point.” Parker shrugged. They wouldn’t have contacted an investigator under these circumstances, but Boss Man didn’t seem satisfied with his answer. “And we have nothing to share.”

  “So, no.” Jared stopped and crossed his arms.

  “Right. No. Delano’s coordinating.” Likely burying them with information overload, and Parker didn’t need to add any more to an agent’s pile to sift through. “I’m not sure why we’d reach out if the asset has her primary security on it.”

  “Does something feel off to you?”

  Parker grimaced. “Boss, I don’t know how to deal in those terms.” But his mind ran the probabilities of this job compared to their usual schtick. There would be inherent difference in the job when it came to a secondary position and this wouldn’t be a contract they would likely take without cause, but when an old Army Ranger buddy of the boss calls, things change. They’d agreed to the project.

  “Recap what we know,” Jared said as though they were in the war room.

  “We have a secondary protection detail contract on Gloria Astor—”

  “Not the paperwork.” Jared cracked his knuckles. “Who’s trying to kill who?”

  Parker blanked. “I have no idea about Astor. We weren’t read into specifics other than the threat type and our target profile,” Parker said.

  “Because we’re solely backup,” Jared muttered. “Extra hands and guns if one threat is too much for a private security team to handle.”

  Seemed overboard to Parker, but Gloria Astor wasn’t the first high-maintenance billionaire he’d met.

  “Give me the profile Delano provided.”

  Parker pulled up the details that he’d given to Brock and Javier. They were vague at best. “Female. Mid-twenties to mid-forties. Last known location, New York City. Access to private corporation information that would affect the valuation of company. May have worked for Astor companies prior.”

  “That’s it?” Jared scowled. “That’s not a profile to provide bodywork off of.”

  Parker had nothing much to say. “We’re back up in case of a problem.”

  “There’s not going to be a problem if they don’t know what they’re looking for—or they do, and they’re not telling us.”

  “Why pay us? Even if she has billions, and it doesn’t matter…” Parker’s mind trailed. “Why?”

  “Because they don’t need extra men and guns. They want intel.”

  Parker’s internal red alert flashed. “I didn’t give them anything they shouldn’t have.”

  “You said blitzkrieg—”

  “Yeah, but—” He pinched his brow. Info in and out. He hadn’t bothered to look at it. “Fuck. I didn’t see it.”

  “See what?”

  “This was all a distraction.”

  Jared muttered. “From what? Screw it, get Brock on the phone.”

  A moment later, Brock’s voice carried through the speakers. “I’m here, what’s going on?”

  What the hell would Jared ask? Parker waited to see how the conversation would roll.

  “Needed a trip to the big city?” Boss Man ran his tongue on the inside of his cheek. “What gives?”

  “I wanted eyes on the job. It felt off, and I couldn’t place it,” Brock said.

  “Welcome to the fucking club.”

  That was easier asked than Parker thought. “Have you seen Delano?”

  “Other than the asshole—I mean, that guy—blowing up my phone with dumbass questions? No.”

  “Let’s get this straight,” Jared boomed. “If he’s a pain in your ass, you talk to me. I don’t care who is causing problems. If you’re keeping problems quiet for my sake? You stop that shit.”

  “Ten-four,” Brock said.

  “Got it,” Parker agreed.

  “Now,” Jared barked. “We’ve got a problem with the primary. We’ve got our boots on the ground, and we have an unknown.”

  “What’s that,” Brock asked. “Other than specifics.”

  “What do they want from us if it’s not body work?”

  “Access to our tech and intel,” Parker volunteered immediately.

  “We know that.” Jared paced. “What else?”

  Brock cackled. “What else besides Parker’s brains and state of the art tech? Man.” He whistled. “How about an alibi?”

  Jared stopped and closed his eyes.

  “Kidding, kidding,” Brock said.

  But Jared didn’t respond, and Parker wasn’t going to say a damn word.

  “Call you back.” He opened his eyes and motioned to cut the call. “Get Colin on the phone.” He cracked his knuckles again, and Thelma whimpered like she was privy to news they weren’t.

  Parker’s eyebrow lifted. It wasn’t often Boss Man’s premonitions hit Parker this hard, and it made his skin prickle when they didn’t see what was in front of them.

  He dialed Colin’s phone. It rang long enough for Parker to know it wasn’t dead but went to voicemail. He tried again then a text message and another call. There was a chance that Colin couldn’t reach his phone. But there was also a chance that Jared would sprout wings and call himself cupid. That wasn’t going to happen, no matter how often the guy liked to advise guys on love.

  “His phone’s dead?”

  If it was, it might not pick up a GPS ping. Parker sent out the code, and the immediate report back was their answer. “Not dead.”

  “And not answering his phone,” Jared groused.

  “Give me his location, anything you can find. Maybe they’re in the backseat and didn’t hear you call.”

  That’d be a semi-decent excuse that Colin could at least try to explain. But the GPS showed his phone was on the move as Parker tightened up the search and pulled satellite imaging.

  “My sixth sense is kicking with those two,” Jared said.

  Parker closed in on the location, and they were traveling at a high rate of speed—most likely a highway. He tore his attention away from tracking the imaging. “It makes this job more complicated.” He hated to miss key indicators for problems or answers because the probability of factoring in emotions was nearly impossible to equate into black-and-white decision trees of p
ractical application.

  Jared stroked his beard. “I think it’s new.”

  Parker went back to tightening the image. His skin prickled at first glance of the new happy couple, and he leaned toward the keyboard, slowing the live feed and then skipping back to reverse what he just saw.

  “What’d you see?” Jared asked.

  “I’m… not sure.” He narrowed his eyes and zoomed the recorded feed. Nothing. Parker couldn’t make out Colin in the driver’s seat, but he could’ve sworn… that wasn’t Adelia.

  He tapped on his keyboard, pulling a program to track Colin’s vehicle’s history. If he’d skirted through any traffic cams, red lights, or crossed a tollbooth, Parker could see in the windshield.

  Notification after notification popped, and his stomach tightened, trying to make sense of what he should look at first. They weren’t the casual passing notifications. Colin had intentionally flagged himself.

  “What’s all that?” Jared asked, more interested in the text coming up as code on another screen.

  “Colin is signaling us.” There was an incorrect toll amount paid. He’d manually turned off an EZ Pass device registered to their dummy account and used the lane, and the car triggered an almost-made-it red-light camera that wouldn’t have caused notice to anyone in the car watching for a red-light-camera runner.

  With a few keystrokes, Parker pulled up a license-plate capture then skipped to the next image. The oxygen seemed to suck out of the room.

  Jared’s heavy steps thudded in the cold electronics cavern until his fists planted like Redwoods on Parker’s desk. “What the hell is going on?”

  Parker stared at Colin behind the wheel and a man who looked like a dead CIA agent named Deacon Lanes. But that jackass was dead.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  There were very few times in life had Parker lost the ability to process information. Today topped the list. He had nothing to say that logic could support. Hell, he had nothing at all.

  Jared, however, had a million things to mutter, but none of them were distinguishable from the curses. Between his silence and Jared’s non-sensicals, they had a solid fifteen seconds of unproductive dumbfounded-ness—until a ping chimed at his station, and a message from Javier appeared.