Except the minor detail Surreal didn’t die in that explosion.
“We have reason to believe Surreal is still alive. A bombing three weeks ago, with another today, pretty much sealed it. It’s his MO. Same type of bomb, same symbol of a broken heart on the device. He leaves us hints that never make any sense until after he strikes, and then all the clues stand out like a virgin in a damn whorehouse.”
He threw out a chuckle. Leave it to Weber to come up with an analogy like that. He had to remember that one.
“You do realize what it means if it really is Surreal and not some copycat?”
David paused. Aside from another six months of late nights and never-ending dead end leads, he couldn’t imagine it meant any more than that. “I get to go exploring in the hills of Montana again?” Wonderful. In the dead of winter.
“Funny, smartass. If he’s still alive, that means he may come after you. You really pissed him off when you tracked him down. No one else was able to do that,” Weber continued. “Well, almost no one.” His eyes drifted to the door.
“You knew it was her?”
Weber brought his gaze to him. “When did you figure it out?”
“At the hospital. You?”
“Three weeks ago when Surreal resurfaced. I pulled the file.”
“Did it mention her name?”
Weber shook his head. “But she was assigned to track him, and then we had intel up there unannounced. After the op, she disappeared for months. It doesn’t take a brain like yours to figure it out.”
Leave it to Weber to find a way of giving him a compliment and throwing it at him as an insult.
“Surreal definitely hates you,” Weber added gruffly.
“One less person I can expect a Christmas card from.” Didn’t bother him in the least.
“There’s something else, something even worse than Surreal resurfacing.”
Doubtful. “And that is?”
“He ID’d you.”
Son of a fuck. David’s heart seized. “How?”
“I have no goddamn idea, but he knows it was you in that field. He mentioned you by name in his last message and threatened to take your identification public if his demands weren’t met. You’d never be able to work a cover again. Hell, every member of every faction you’ve had a hand in bringing down will come after you.”
Shit. Shit. His heart still refused to beat. “And Charis?”
Weber grunted. “I think he’s playing us to get to her. Now I understand McKoy’s hesitation on having his daughter on this mission. It’s putting a giant target on her back.”
No. Fuck no. Surreal couldn’t know her—the real her—the way David did. “So she’s been ID’d, too?”
“Oh, he definitely knows her, but has made no threats to expose her. When Surreal turned into one of America’s Most Wanted, McKoy e-tracked him. She got real cozy with the man.”
“She did what?” David ignored the pinch in his midsection. He wasn’t jealous. He had no reason to be. “Just how cozy?”
“She had him convinced to turn himself in.” Weber threw out a chuckle. “That lady has the ability to talk a hooker into attending church. Apparently, she has very good negotiating tactics. I mean, look how easily she got you to come back. She must have found a way to get to you.”
It was like a sucker punch to the gut. His entire world grew a little darker, a little harder. The wall around his heart went back up in a flash, thicker, more protective than before. How in the fuck did he not see this coming? “I guess she’s good,” he stated bitterly, looking away.
“Not just good,” Weber corrected. “She’s the best. She can talk the talk in any situation. She impressed the hell out of me and I don’t impress easily. Her success ratio is through the roof.”
He understood why. She had him fooled into thinking they were a spontaneous one-night stand. Holy Jesus. Negotiating? That’s what they were doing all night? He’d been nothing more to her than another job. Jesus, how many others had she negotiated with? And how many others had fallen for her innocent, I’ll-be-demoted act, batting her beautiful baby-blues at them? The bitterness enveloped his senses. “Apparently.”
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” he grunted.
“Then focus on the threat and not your bruised ego.”
David shot him a look. Weber didn’t back down. “So you were played. So what? It sucks, I should know. McKoy did what she had to do. Get over it.”
He really hated Weber right now, but he was right. He’d lick his wounds later. The real issue as to why Weber called him back slapped him across the face. If Surreal publicized David as spec ops for TREX, not only would every terrorist faction come after him, every agent he’d ever been on assignment with would be on the hit list. If TREX didn’t find and remove the threat, it could potentially expose the entire agency. Careless agents disappear after exposure, sometimes by their own choosing, other times by force.
And he sat here pissed at Charis for doing her job? Jesus Christ. His priorities were so far off the scale. He should be more concerned with the resurface of Surreal, added to the fact he could ID David as TREX, and he was in a shitload of trouble. His existence linked other agents to the mission, Weber and his wife included. They had to plug the hole.
Or remove the link.
He threw Weber a look as a deep foreboding crept into his bones. Who better to remove the link than a former spec ops agent and now the special director of the entire western region? Leave out the fact Weber was David’s friend. His best friend. The acid hit the back of his throat, the betrayal hitting him like another sucker punch to the gut.
Jesus. How many more could he take?
The greater question... Did Weber really call him back to take him out?
Fight or flight. Fight or flight. He tensed. His shoulder ached as the blood in his veins picked up speed. He steadied his breathing and recalled his scan of the room from his memory bank. Some of the little trinkets could be used as weapons. No doubt Weber had his sidearm on him. It took long enough to break in to TREX’s HQ. He didn’t have time to pick up a gun. He didn’t think he’d need it.
Until now.
No wonder they were in room three. And no wonder Weber seemed more concerned about the cameras than how he broke into the building. His gut knotted. If he tried to make a break for it, Weber would have him down in a matter of seconds. The man had a lethal chokehold. Of course, David could hold his own against Weber, but it sickened him to think he’d be forced to.
“I suppose I should be honored,” he snapped bitterly.
Weber narrowed his eyes. “Grateful, at least.”
He’d bet his good shoulder Charis had no idea how Weber played her on this. She actually thought she’d succeeded in pulling him back into the ranks at TREX, when in fact she’d only lured him to what just might be his death. Holy shit, was she going to be pissed when she found out.
His anxiety intensified. Here he sat across the table from a man who very well may kill him before the day ended, and his concern rested on her reaction? Oh, man. He was in more trouble than he thought. “Fine. I’m grateful you called me all the way back to the mainland so you could take me out personally. Thank you.”
“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Weber muttered. “Do you honestly think I would bring you back here if I wanted you dead? Hell, I could have sent a hit if I wanted that. After everything you’ve been through with me, everything you’ve lost because of me. Give me some fucking credit. I’m not Donovan. I would never, ever sell out one of my own. Got it?”
The look Weber shot him felt like another sucker punch. The man didn’t need to say how David’s assumption hit him. The lack of faith bothered him. David swallowed, feeling like shit for jumping to the wrong conclusion.
Weber pinched the skin between his eyes. “Being out of the field has tainted you. Trust is key. You know that. All TREX agents know that. So if you can put your paranoia on the next plane back to Maui, I’d like to talk
to you about this find, since you’ll be taking point.”
David folded his hands in front of him and leaned in his chair. It squawked in protest, the noise echoing throughout the small interrogation room. “So I’m back in spec ops? And I get my position as lead as well?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely.”
The tension preventing him from taking a full breath lifted and he inhaled deeply. “Where do I sign?”
Weber grinned. “Welcome back, Special Agent Snyder.”
TEN
Charis sprang into action as soon as David stepped out of the room. Special Director Weber didn’t follow, and for that she was grateful. For what she had to say to David Snyder, she’d rather have him all to herself.
How could he simply dismiss her like that? They both agreed their moment ended as soon as they left the island, but have a heart. He didn’t need to pretend it never happened. She didn’t even exist in there today. Adjusting her glasses, determination settling into her veins, she moved out.
Her strides were no match to his, and she had to almost jog to catch up to him. She ran on her toes so not to let her heels click against the linoleum. Finally he slowed, but didn’t turn around. She’d almost caught up to him when he suddenly whipped around and had her in a chokehold, her back pressed firmly against his front, one hand strategically placed under her chin. One quick snap and he’d break her neck. The thought sent an involuntary shudder through her body.
“David! It’s me!”
“Jesus Christ, Charis.” His breath was hot and wet against her neck, which made her shudder for an entirely different reason. He loosened his hold but still kept her close. “Don’t ever sneak up on me like that.”
Her anger escaladed into a raging fury. They were inside HQ. He knew the elaborate extremes it took to gain access. Why the paranoia? It wasn’t like some terrorist snuck in and chased him down the hall. In heels no less. The building was supposed to be impenetrable. Of course, he’d found a way.
“We’re five stories below ground in a secure facility, for crying out loud. Give me a break, David.”
“I almost did.” With that, he let her go. “Come on, we have somewhere to be.”
Together? She rubbed her neck and chin. Ouch. “Where are we going?”
He grabbed her arm and dragged her down the long corridor to the elevator. Remembering what happened the last time they shared an elevator together brought so much warmth to her body little beads of sweat sprouted on her upper lip. The memory of the taste of his lips had her nipples puckering.
And damn did she wear the wrong outfit for that. Her silk shirt displayed the hardened buds quite nicely. Add a little water to the outfit and she’d take first place in the wet t-shirt contest for sure. He gave her a quick once over, resting his gaze on her obvious arousal, causing them to harden to the point of painful. Even the cardigan sweater she wore didn’t do anything to mask her body’s response.
Thank God he didn’t say anything.
“Let me ask you a question.”
Just not about last night. “Sure.”
“What happened last night?”
Crap. Her nipples puckered further and sent a shiver shimmying up her spine. She stole a glance at his powerful hands. Those hands were magic, their owner gifted in knowing how to use them. “Hmmm. Last night,” she purred, the intoxication of the memory causing her clit to wake up and throb.
How did he do that to her? She was Charis McKoy. The safe agent, the boring agent. She wasn’t the type to have a one-night stand and then damn near think herself into an orgasm. But when it came to this man, she had zero control.
“Last night you were,” he laughed gruffly. “I mean, you were—wow. But that wasn’t the real you, was it? This is the real you.”
He said it in such a disappointed tone. The way his comment dug into her core made her response to him cool. So they slept together. It was a one-time thing. An itch she needed to scratch. This was the Charis McKoy everyone expected her to be. Conservative dress. Followed orders without question. As the oldest child, she had to demonstrate the epitome of propriety. Don’t talk back to your parents. Eat all your vegetables.
Don’t have sex with strangers.
But that wasn’t the real you. This is the real you. Those words rang in her ears, louder and louder until something snapped. The dam broke and everything she’d been keeping locked up deep inside flooded to be free.
She didn’t want to be this Charis McKoy anymore. She’d loved being that Charis McKoy. At twenty-eight, she should have some say in her life. Her mom had to approve her wardrobe, even back in college. Her father chose her classes, and then her career. Her brothers even chose the men she dated.
Charis wanted to live her own life for a change.
But then reality quickly won over her reasoning. Should she throw away everything she’d worked so hard to achieve all because she had one fantastic night of hot sex with a TREX agent? No. She was a nervous wreck the entire op. One night of sex did not trump a week of hell. She’d be better off sticking with what she knew. She sighed and inwardly cursed as she accepted her fate to remain the safe and boring agent.
“Quit pouting.” His command broke her of her thoughts. He gave her a sideways glance. “I’m back. You got your way.”
“I’m not pouting.”
“This is you not pouting? You suck at it.”
Up yours, superspy. She balled her hands into fists, ready to strike. She wasn’t a violent person, but this man brought out the worst in her.
“Can I ask another question?”
“If I told you no, would you still ask?”
“Probably.”
“What, then?” she bit at him, annoyed her emotions displayed in her actions. Which, at the moment, bordered on something she couldn’t quite identify. Irritation. Anger. Want. Crave.
“Was I just another job to you?” He shuffled his feet, not really looking at her. At first. But then his brown gaze sank into her.
She blinked, completely baffled at the question. The way he riveted his gaze to her, looking for any sign of truth in his question enraged her. Did he honestly think she’d slept with him as part of her assignment? The look in those hooded eyes told her he did.
The insult drilled into her resolve, threatening her with burning tears. How could he think something like that? “Do you honestly believe that?”
He grunted. “I don’t want to, but you did have a job to do. I was your mark. You did what you needed to do. For the record,” he added as if he hadn’t driven the knife in far enough. “I don’t like being played like that. Next time you need to negotiate, try talking to me.”
She spun and dug her index finger into his chest. “I did try talking to you. You were too busy feeling sorry for yourself to listen.”
He zeroed in on her. “So, you did sleep with me as part of your job? All to get me home?”
Oh, this man was about to having a high-heeled shoe shoved so far up his ass he’d have to cough it out. “If you think I would ever,” she said and jabbed her finger into his chest to drive home her point, “ever sleep with you to get what I want then you aren’t the man I thought you were.”
She spun around and glared at the double doors. What in the hell took the elevator so long? The building hardly had a soul in it, so it couldn’t be in high demand. She labored her breathing so she wouldn’t tear up. She hated that she cried every time she got angry.
“Okaaay,” he replied slowly, rubbing the center of his chest where she’d just stabbed him with her finger. “I may have been mistaken.”
“You are so far beyond mistaken, David.” Her voice shook as she said his name. She swallowed down the lump in her throat.
“I,” he stopped and put a hand on her shoulder. She kept her eyes straight ahead. When he attempted to turn her toward him, she jerked her shoulder away.
“Don’t.”
“Charis, listen to me.”
“I’m through listening to you.”
“D
amn it. I didn’t mean—I just thought—”
This time she did turn and look at him. His eyes were soft, full of raw emotion. Whatever check she had on hers crumbled. Her eyes swelled with tears. She blinked them back.
Damn it if one didn’t get away.
“You’re crying,” he muttered.
No kidding. Thanks for pointing that out, Captain Obvious. She shook her head to dismiss his comment, both now and before. Easier said than done, but she gave it a valiant effort.
“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
“You didn’t,” she lied. “I cry when I’m angry.” Eyeing him, she added, “And right now I’m furious.”
“I just assumed—”
“Don’t ever assume you know something about somebody,” she cut him off, pissed so many people in the world assumed the worst in someone. Why wasn’t it ever the other way around? “You have no idea the damage that can do.”
She knew better than to ever assume anything about a person. If her assumptions were wrong, it could prove fatal. She was almost killed when she assumed Thomas Macy had been telling the truth when he’d said he wanted to negotiate the terms of his surrender.
As a key negotiator, TREX had sent her in to do what she did best. Talk. She assumed he wouldn’t have a landmine set to detonate if she came within five hundred feet of the shack.
She tightened the muscles in her right leg. Although it had dulled to nothing more than an irritation now, she still felt the injury when she tensed it.
He let out a deep breath and nodded. “Point taken. I’m sorry.”
“So am I, David,” she responded crisply.
They stood in awkward silence, waiting for the elevator. If she knew where the stairs were hidden, she’d have left him standing there. Having no other choice, she remained planted in front of an elevator that seemed to have disappeared.
“Tell me what you know about Surreal,” he stated after allowing the silence to patch the air between them.
“Surreal?” She wanted to stay pissed at him, but hearing a name she hadn’t heard in almost five years made her refocus. “He’s dead.”
Seek and Destroy (TREX, #5) Page 13