by Radclyffe
The woman smiled, but her eyes didn’t. “Precautions. I don’t know you.”
“I don’t know you either,” Jane said, “but I didn’t step in here planning to kill you.”
The woman glanced at Hooker. “That’s good to know. Let’s get this done.”
“Let’s see the merchandise,” Jane said.
“Let’s see the money,” the woman answered casually.
Jane reached for the flap of her jacket and the muscle lowered his rifle in her direction. She paused, fingers an inch from the jacket. “Friendly exchange, remember?”
“We just want to make sure it stays that way,” the woman said. “So take your time.”
Jane opened her coat with her left hand to show the square package outlined in the zippered lining of her jacket. “I have to reach in here. If you shoot me, Hooker will shoot you.”
The blonde flicked a look at Hooker. “Is that right?”
Hooker shrugged, pulled his hand from his jacket pocket, and pointed his Glock at her. “That’s right.”
The blonde sighed. “Jay.”
The muscle moved the rifle back to rest position.
Jane unzipped her jacket pocket and pulled the flap back enough to reveal the stack of bills inside. “Your turn.”
“Jay,” the blonde said again.
The man backed away into the shadows and returned a second later with a black nylon gym bag. He set it down in the middle of the circle, unzipped it, and peeled back the top to reveal a row of thin clay-colored rectangles lined up inside.
Jane said, “I need to look at it.”
“Go ahead,” the blonde said.
Jane stepped forward, careful not to block Hooker’s line of fire, and crouched down across from Jay. She reached in, extracted a rectangle at random, and sniffed it. She nodded, put it back, and checked two more. If they’d substituted some other material for the explosives, she should have hit a dummy package by now. “All right.”
She took out the money with one hand, grabbed the handles of the duffel with the other, and passed the cash to Jay. He riffled through the bills and grunted.
“Okay.”
They both backed away at the same time until she was beside Hooker and Jay was back at the blonde’s elbow.
“Nice doing business with you,” the blonde said, disappearing into the shadows.
Jane and Hooker backed toward the door. An instant later they were outside and back in the Jeep.
“Satisfied now?” Hooker said.
Jane let out a breath and the tension eased from her chest. She tossed the duffel into the backseat. “I will be, once we’re out of this parking lot.”
“You gonna tell me the plan then?”
Jane glanced at him. “No, but I’ll show you.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Two hundred miles southeast of Colorado Springs, Jane pulled off the highway into a small town whose main street was already closed and shuttered for the night. She cruised the snowy streets until she found the public library and pulled into the parking lot. After hours, the library lot was dark and deserted. Everyone still out was in a hurry to get home. No one would remember them, even if they happened to notice them.
Hooker looked at her. “Got the sudden urge for a book?”
“Sit rep.”
Hooker laughed and dug around on the floor for the fast-food bag.
Jane swiveled, pulled the duffel from behind the backseat, and slid out her laptop. She plugged the car charger into the dash and logged on to the free Wi-Fi. Nine times out of ten, she could find an Internet connection at a library. A minute later, she had a live update from the White House feed on the progress of the president’s train. The White House communications department did a great job of keeping everyone informed of the president’s activities and general schedule on a daily basis. As Robbie had predicted, the train was behind schedule due to weather-related problems, but so was she. All things considered, her intersect point was just about where she’d anticipated.
She enlarged the map and studied the fine lines representing county roads. Before railroads were usurped by planes and trucks for hauling freight around the country, wagon trails ran alongside the tracks so farmers and merchants could pick up and deliver goods. Eventually those old wagon lines had become paved roads, and as time progressed, they too were replaced by faster highways farther from the tracks. But the roads remained, little used now as drivers favored the multi-lanes for speed. In many places, the back roads were in sight of the tracks or an easy hike. She switched to Google Maps and laid out a new route running parallel to the train, set her nav con, and logged off.
“I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me what the plan is?” Hooker pulled out one of the cold hamburgers, unwrapped it, and took a bite.
“Need-to-know.” Jane slid the laptop back into her duffel and stowed it away. The snow had let up a little, but the weather predicted more on the way. She’d have to drive all night to get ahead of the train and wait. Never rush a plan based on opportunity. Luckily, she’d learned patience along with endurance on those early training missions in the mountains. After checking that they were still alone, she pushed open the door and stepped out. Hustling through the snow, she climbed the steps to the library’s small porch, hunched under the overhang, and hoped for a signal. Luck was with her. Robbie answered a minute later.
“It’s me,” he said.
“I’m on schedule. Enjoying the ride?”
His laughter sounded grim. “Let’s just say I’ll be glad when it’s over.”
“Me too.” She was weary, physically and emotionally. Somehow hearing his voice always reminded her of the feelings she could usually shunt aside—long-ago memories of being surrounded by family. Happy times with the three of them and their father. When she was alone, nothing really mattered except the mission. Then she forgot about everything else. Loneliness, hunger, even fear, drifted away. Maybe one day, when all this was over… She caught herself angrily. Thoughts like that only made her weak.
“Give me the order of the cars,” Jane said.
“There’s a lot of them.”
“I have a good memory, remember? Go.”
He recited them, his memory as good as hers, and she fixed them in her mind. They’d all been trained to be able to do that—to survey a hillside, a city street, a plaza, and recount in detail the location of civilians, targets, entrances, and exits. It was a game when they were young, and a mission when they were older.
“Keep your distance from the front the next twenty-four hours,” she said when he was done.
“I’ll be expected to cover anything that happens,” he said. “If I disappear, I’ll be suspect.”
“Fine, just don’t be in the front line.” Jane watched Hooker in the front seat, checking to see he wasn’t rummaging in her gear. “Besides, maybe you won’t need that cover much longer.”
“What are we going to do about rebuilding the forces?”
Jane clenched her jaw. The compound was in ruins, and the feds would be scouring the area looking for anyone with information about them. They couldn’t go back there. They couldn’t contact their old militia. But she had to give him something to hope for. “Dad had contacts in Montana. We can go there. Once we have Jenn.”
“I’ve been checking with my contacts back in DC,” he said. “Word is they’re going to move her soon.”
“We expected that,” she said, forcing a calmness she didn’t feel into her voice. Of the three of them, Robbie was always the weakest soldier. He wanted to please, but he was never as disciplined as her or Jenn. He hated the wilderness missions, didn’t revel in the physical challenges, and preferred indoor duty over range work. “It won’t be much longer, and then we can all decide.”
“Okay.” He paused. “I love you.”
Jane tensed. Personal attachments couldn’t be allowed to intrude in the midst of a mission. Losses were always expected. Loyalty, commitment, those were acceptable emotions that made a soldie
r stronger. “Soon we’ll be talking face-to-face.”
“Right,” he echoed, “soon.”
Jane disconnected and bent her head into the wind. Soon.
*
The train started up again a little before seven p.m. and pulled out into the night. Viv shed her work clothes, showered, and chose a soft light blue V-neck cashmere sweater and jeans. She slipped into flats, considered makeup, and finally settled for a little lip gloss. She studied herself in the mirror, her skin buzzing with anticipation, like a teenager getting ready for a date. She laughed and the thrill spread deeper. When the knock came on her cabin door, her stomach did an honest-to-God flip. Wetting her lips, she turned the light down low and opened the door.
Dusty carried a small wicker basket and wore jeans, a white button-down shirt, and a big smile. She looked so sexy Viv’s knees went a little weak.
“Hi,” Dusty said. “Too early?”
“You’re perfect. The timing, I mean—perfect.” Viv stepped back to let her in. “Where in the world did you get a picnic hamper?”
“I asked the steward.” Dusty set the basket on the floor by the bunk. “You can almost always get anything on a trip like this. You’d be amazed what they carry.”
“I commend you on your hunting abilities.”
Dusty gave a little bow. “Thank you. I hope sandwiches will—”
Viv wrapped her arms around Dusty’s neck and kissed her. She was hungry, but the sandwiches be damned. She wanted kisses. And heat and sweetness and relief from the burn in the pit of her stomach that had simmered all day.
Dusty groaned and pulled Viv close, forgetting everything except the lush contours of Viv’s body and the urgency that poured through her at the first press of Viv’s mouth. The kiss started low and soft and quiet, like birdsong at dawn, just a single refrain at first, delicately building as the sky lightened and more voices joined. Soon her head was filled with sound and light and wonder. She slipped her hand underneath the incredibly soft sweater and found even softer skin, stroking lower to the hollow at the base of Viv’s spine, pressing a palm to the mesmerizing curve of muscle and flesh. She could spend a lifetime exploring every amazing dip and swell, if only she wasn’t so damn crazy for more. More kisses, more touches, more of everything that made those little cries escape Viv’s throat. She skimmed upward and feathered her fingers over Viv’s side, just grazing the edge of her breast.
“Viv,” Dusty gasped. “Can I?”
“Yes, God yes,” Viv whispered against Dusty’s mouth. She clasped Dusty’s wrist, pulled Dusty’s hand around her body, and pressed it to her breast. Electricity sparked, tendrils of pleasure twisted in her depths, and her back arched. “Oh, that feels so good. God, I’ve wanted your hands on me.”
Dusty backed up and guided Viv down to the narrow bunk and somehow got them both on without breaking their kiss. She braced herself above Viv on one elbow, brushed her fingers lightly over Viv’s nipple and down the inner curve of her breast.
Viv slipped her legs around Dusty’s narrow hips and pulled her tight between her thighs. The pressure was agonizing and exquisite. “Your mouth…”
“What?” Dusty gasped, her eyes dark and deep, searching Viv’s. “Tell me what.”
“Your mouth on me…my breasts. God. Please.”
Dusty’s lips parted in a feral grin and she pushed Viv’s sweater up in one swift sweep. Her mouth closed around Viv’s nipple, firm and sure.
Viv bucked, a white-hot arrow streaking low, unerring in its target. Her clit tightened and she gasped. “Oh yes. Like that.”
Time stopped. Thought fled. Dusty’s awareness became only the sensation in her mouth. Incredible softness. Heat. Breathless awe. The pounding of her own heart, wild and urgent. Her teeth grazed the firm peak and Viv gave a tiny mewling cry. Dusty bit gently and the sound came again, making her blood thrum in her veins.
“No, no, no,” Viv chanted, her fingers fluttering at Dusty’s nape. “No more, you’ll make me come.”
Viv’s cries made everything inside Dusty pulse, and she did it again. She replaced her mouth with her hand and moved to the other breast, sucking gently at first and then harder until Viv’s cries were constant. Dusty raised her head, afraid she was hurting her.
Viv stared at her with sightless eyes. “No, you’re good. So good. Don’t stop, I’m so close.”
Dusty followed the movement of Viv’s hips with hers, pressing down rhythmically, and played her nipples again and again and again. Viv’s fingers bored into her shoulders, and she screamed. A muffled cry, her face buried in Dusty’s shoulder. Dusty’d never heard a sound like that before, part triumph, part surrender. She wanted to hear it endlessly.
*
Cam balanced her reader on her chest, advancing the pages with her thumb while Blair dozed beside her with her head pillowed against her shoulder. She kept her close as much for her own sake as Blair’s. The morning had been rough on Blair emotionally, and then standing by her father’s side while he’d given yet another speech and fielding more questions about their relationship had finally worn her down. Cam hadn’t been able to do anything except stand by, feeling alternately helpless and angry. She wasn’t looking forward to another year of the additional security risk, with Blair’s constant public exposure, or the toll the public scrutiny took on Blair. But it had to be done, and all she could do was give Blair a safe place to rest. She kissed her temple and settled her closer into the curve of her body.
Blair stirred, slid a hand under Cam’s shirt, and caressed her stomach. “I think I could sleep anywhere as long as you were next to me.”
“It’s a good thing. Because you’ll probably have to.”
Blair laughed softly. “Thanks for keeping me from falling off while I slept.”
Cam kissed her. “No problem.”
“I needed this.”
“Me too. I love you.”
“Mm, good.” Blair rubbed her cheek against Cam’s chest. “I think I’m hungry.”
“Feel like dinner?”
“Maybe my father and Lucinda are fre—”
Cam’s cell rang.
“Damn it,” Blair said.
“Sorry.”
Blair sat up. “It’s okay. Take it.”
Cam fished her cell out of her pocket and checked the readout. “It’s Renée.” She took the call. “Roberts.”
“I’ve got something for you, Director.”
“Go ahead.”
“You were right about Graves. It took some doing and calling in a lot of favors, but we got into the right database finally. No surprise, really. Army Special Forces. Black ops, Major Augustus Gary.”
“Background?” Cam’s focus crystallized, sharp and cold. Finally her quarry was in sight, and every predatory instinct kicked in. Until now she’d been chasing phantoms, but at last the mists were rising and she could see the fight ahead. One she welcomed.
“Just like you expected. Idaho native, career military until voluntary retirement eight years ago. A lot of his service record is redacted, and it will take some time to work through it, but we got the personnel file. His original enlistment forms are in there.”
“Children?”
“Three, two daughters and a son.”
“One unaccounted for,” Cam said softly, the burn of the hunt churning in her depths. “Find them.”
“No hits on any of the names.”
“I’m not surprised. If he’s black ops, chances are parts of his personnel file were modified.” Cam bit back her frustration. Stay on the trail, keep the prey in sight. “Work the timelines in reverse and search a five-year window on either side of the probable birth dates—court records, school registers, hospital and local police reports.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And, Renée, start vetting every single person on this train. Check every transcript, reference, and clearance report.”
“We’ll need more people.”
“I’ll make the calls. You’ll have more bodies withi
n the hour.”
“We’ll find him,” Renée said.
“Good work. Keep me updated.”
“Roger that, Director.”
Cam disconnected and looked at Blair. “There’s a third.”
“I heard.”
“Dinner will have to wait. I need to talk to Tom Turner and Stark.”
“You think he’s here?”
“Probably not, but we can’t take that chance.” Cam pulled on trousers and a fresh shirt, slid her shoulder rig into place, and took a blazer off its hanger. Blair watched her with a closed, flat expression. “I can’t not do this.”
“I know. I’ll see you after the briefing.”
Cam kissed her. “I’ll leave it to them. If I can.”
Blair framed her face, kissing her back. “Just keep your head in the game. And find the bastard.”
Chapter Twenty-two
Off! Off, off, off,” Viv said.
Dusty sat up so quickly the room swirled. “What? What happened?”
“Nothing. Everything.” Viv grabbed the bottom of Dusty’s shirt and tugged on it. “I want you naked. Now. Off.”
Laughing, relief bursting like sunshine in a cloudy sky, Dusty yanked the shirt over her head and sent the top button careening across the floor. “I thought I’d done something wrong.”
“Wrong? God. If you’d done anything more right I’d be comatose.” Viv trailed a finger down Dusty’s midsection. “Mm. Stay just like that. I want to look at you.”
Dusty knelt astride her, her stomach in knots. She wanted her hands on Viv again, wanted Viv’s hands in her. The press of her jeans between her thighs was torture. “Viv, I’m on the edge here.”
“Perfect. My turn.” Viv gripped her own sweater, arched her back, and lifted it over her head. Her breasts rose, firm and full.
Dusty groaned, her fingers aching.
“You like?” Viv asked softly.
“You’re so beautiful,” Dusty gasped. She cradled Viv’s breasts and rubbed her thumbs over the taut nipples. Her head threatened to explode, and she groaned again.