“You know how to run your mouth.”
“Not that, either.”
“That’s right, you really don’t. You’re usually much quieter, so I’ll cut you some slack.”
Time to try to rein his editor’s temper before Ethan ended up fired. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
The editor stared at him for a moment before standing and walking over to the door. He opened it halfway and peered out around the corner. Then he shut it and returned to the long conference table. Normally that table was full of head editors of every section, full for meetings and plans and productivity. Usually Ethan didn’t see it very much. Usually there would be no room for him. But now he was alone there with the head editor. It was a little unnerving. Worse than his original job interview, which took place at the same table. The meeting was more like an interrogation.
“Ethan,” he said, taking a seat in front of him. “I need to know where your allegiances are.”
“Of course they’re with the paper. Have I—? Have I done anything to show otherwise?”
“We’re in the middle of a transition,” the editor said. “A shakeup. And I know you’re probably being pulled in a few directions.” That was putting it mildly. His editor, Annica, not to mention Jackson’s offer. It was less of an offer and really more of an order, really. But Jackson had also warned him not to make it public, not yet.
“I’m sticking with the paper,” Ethan said. “You gave me my first shot in the business.”
“I didn’t do that. Annica did.”
Ethan had to admit that was the truth. He also knew he would be forever grateful for the opportunity she’d given him, plucking him out of J school after he’d made a minor name for himself through social media and blogging. It was a series he’d made about the underfunded and understaffed VA hospital system that had gotten her attention in the end. More importantly, it was about the under-served veterans, many of whom were old friends of his. He’d heard their stories, watched their deteriorating health and morale. He, along with everyone else, had spotted signs of the system rotting and falling apart for the last decade. But only Ethan was ready to put everything on the line for it, tying his career—or what would be his career—into the story that he felt was so important for him and the country.
He’d gotten lucky, too. Very lucky. First, lucky that he’d been kicked out of the army before he could become another sad statistic. And secondly, catching the attention of another young but much more established journalist. Annica. She’d come across his work through her research into one of her stories for Veteran’s Valor. He’d fed her some info and contacts, hoping the whole time that it would put him in her good graces. She was remarkably beautiful, so those good graces could have been just about anything. But he was also just happy to settle for a more professional kind of leg up. A foot up, too, Annica helping him get it in the door of D.C.’s prestigious Daily National paper.
And then there was Hawaii . . .
“Annica did all that for you,” the editor said. “So, it wouldn’t be a shock to me that you’d want to repay her somehow.”
“I’ve already done that,” Ethan said.
“You have?”
“A few times over.”
The editor frowned and said, “Hawaii?”
“We’re friends,” Ethan said. “And we like working together. But that’s it.”
“What about Hawaii? What aren’t you telling me?”
“Whatever I owed her was paid off in Hawaii. Let’s just leave it at that.”
“I wish to God I never let you guys head out there,” the editor said. “Sure, it made a lot of money, and it made a lot of people happy . . .”
“But?”
The editor uncrossed his arms and then folded his hands atop the table. “Okay,” he said, “let’s move on to business.”
Ethan had thought they were already in the middle of it. Watching the editor bridge his fingers, he felt a little apprehensive as to what exactly he meant by business. What other business was there?
“Your next story,” the editor said.
“Oh.”
“If you choose to accept,” he said, with a slowly forming smile. And then a soft chuckle. There was something softening about the editor, as if he was suddenly relieved that Ethan had indeed proven his loyalty to him in some way. He looked at Ethan with a little more warmth, saying, “I want you to fly solo on this one.”
Ethan had been waiting to fly solo for a long time, to step out of Annica’s beautiful yet impenetrable shadow. He was ready.
“It’s a story that I had someone else working on. But his wife is expecting and he’s . . . well, he’s just not there for us, mentally. You understand?”
Ethan nodded, not quite understanding, but wanting to hear more about the story and less about “someone else” and Annica and whoever else might possibly stand in the way of his story.
“You know this country has a big problem with opiates,” the editor said.
“I do.”
“This sort of ties into your work with Hawaii and the Khan brothers and smuggling and all that. But I want you to forget about those angles for a minute. Can you do that? Can you go off in a different direction for me?”
“Of course.”
“Like I said, opiates.”
“What about them?” Ethan said. “Other than the fact that they’re a big problem in this—”
“A big problem, yes, a big problem in certain areas. Rural areas, especially, or places where people used to have jobs. You understand what I mean, right?”
“I’m from New Hampshire,” Ethan said.
“Oh, well, perfect.”
“Not really.”
The editor laughed and said, “Sorry,” with his face straightening up. And then: “Maybe you might have some personal connection to this problem? Friends or family affected, maybe.”
“Maybe,” Ethan said. “So what is it? Are you sending me out to New Hampshire?”
“No. West Virginia.”
“What’s going on?”
“We have an inside source that—”
“Who?” Ethan interrupted.
The editor frowned again and continued on: “An inside source that I’ll put you in touch with in due time. It’s about a drug-running operation. Drugs, and maybe some other stuff, but we’ll just start with the drugs. Opiates. Heroin. Fentanyl. There’s also some weird stuff going on with VA hospitals. That’s right in your wheelhouse, isn’t it?”
“That’s how Annica found me.”
“Right. Well, it seems some vets aren’t getting the right doses. Sometimes not even the right drugs. We want you to follow the drug run from Washington inland.”
“Inland to where?”
“West Virginia.”
As far as Ethan knew, there was no drug line from Washington to West Virginia. It seemed a little suspect, as did the whole thing, the whole idea of separating Ethan and Annica, of sending him out somewhere solo. But he couldn’t resist wanting to know more.
“So,” the editor said, “I just wanted to make sure I’ve got your undivided attention for this.”
Ethan nodded. “Sure.” He opened his notebook and put the pen to page, anticipating some sort of prep for his latest assignment. The editor was known for spouting off at full speed, and he’d rather be ready from the first word. But nothing else came. Ethan said, “So?”
“Your undivided attention,” he said again, “And your loyalty. I need your heart in this.”
“You got it,” Ethan said. But his heart was really somewhere else, miles away from the editorial room. He didn’t know where exactly, but just that it was no longer with Annica, or with Washington, or even the Daily National. His heart was now with Kalani, wherever she was. If his assignment in West Virginia brought him closer, all the better. Maybe he could find out where she was along the way.
4
Ethan
Annica had him pinned against the parking garage wall with her eyes. Steel
y daggers now. “So what the hell?” she said. “What did he want? What did he say?”
Ethan took a deep breath, preparing himself for a careful explanation of how their boss essentially wanted to break them up. Break them up as a professional team, of course.
“Ethan, are you fired? Did he fire you?”
“Calm down,” he said, chuckling, trying to deactivate the bomb. “And quiet down, too. Jesus . . . could we do this someplace else?”
Annica looked around the garage, and then moved in closer for a more quiet interrogation. She said, “There’s rumors about one of us or maybe even both of us being let go.”
“‘Let go’? They’re willing to let go their star reporter?”
“I’ve actually given them a lot of grief,” she said. “Believe it or not.”
Ethan believed it. “You’ve also given them a lot of money.”
“And headaches . . . and you.”
“I’m not a headache.”
“Is that what he said?”
“Come on,” Ethan said, sidestepping out of her trap against the wall and moving toward his car. He unlocked it. “Hop in.”
“Where to?”
He waited until they were both sitting inside his ten-year-old rusted-out Suburban before he looked across to her and said, “I’m tempted to take you with me.”
“I know. Where?”
“He wants me to go to West Virginia and work on a story about the prescription painkiller business.”
“You mean, unprescribed ones.”
“You know, those old mining towns, it’s a whole business out there.”
“It’s a whole business everywhere,” Annica said. “You could do a story on that right here in D.C.”
“He wants me in Virginia for whatever reason.”
Annica sighed, her hand slapping down on the arm rest. “I’m not leaving the paper. I told him that. And if I was, I wouldn’t steal you away from him. Is that what the whole thing was about? Him interrogating you about me?”
“He wanted to see where my ‘allegiance’ was.”
“Jesus,” Annica said, chuckling. “So where is it?”
“Where’s what?”
“Your allegiance.”
“It’s to my work,” Ethan said, steering the car down the parking ramp, spiraling lower to ground level. To the outside world. “Whether it’s working with you or him, I’m just focused on my work.”
“You didn’t tell him that, did you?”
Ethan laughed. “Not exactly. He gave me no choice but to tell him exactly what he wanted to hear.”
“Well, it sounds like you’ve made yourself valuable to him,” Annica said. “All it took was a special assignment with me in Hawaii.”
“It gave me a lot of confidence.”
“I know. It was supposed to.”
“It made me feel like I was . . . for real.”
“You are,” Annica said. “So don’t worry about allegiances. Especially not with me. I don’t want you to feel like you owe me something, or that you have to follow me to whatever paper I go to, or start up.”
“So it is more than a side project. Are you really leaving, then?”
“I don’t know,” Annica said. “Maybe I will, but really, it can’t affect your decision, or your work. Okay?”
A few months prior, Ethan would have jumped at the chance to work with Annica, ditching whatever current work he was involved in. That was partly how he got started in the first place. But that was before the newfound confidence that the Hawaii assignment provided. And it was before he’d met Kalani, the local island girl security guard. He supposed she gave him some confidence, too. A different sort of confidence that Annica could not or would not provide. It was something that he’d spent so long wanting, and wanting so badly, from Annica. And it felt thrilling now, sitting in the car with her, and not even caring one bit about it.
Ethan stopped at a red light and looked at her. She was still gorgeous, no doubt. And perhaps more so than ever, she was not his. Annica had a recent development, too, back in Hawaii. His name was Cole.
“Hawaii made my career,” Ethan said. “But I think it was also good for us on a personal level. I mean, good for our . . . you know, work relationship.”
Annica smiled, too. “You mean, good for your puppy love?”
“God, yeah.” He chuckled, still feeling a little embarrassed by it. “No, I actually mean that a little space could be good. Space for me to stretch my wings a little bit. We could still be one hell of a duo sometime down the road.” But it also felt good to get it out in the open, and to laugh at it. He could laugh at himself, and it was a liberating. He was free.
At least free from Annica.
Kalani was a different story. He didn’t mind her type of entrapment. It was, at least, mutual.
After parking the car a few minutes later, strolling into a pub at the bottom of Embassy Row for an after-work drink as a platonic business partnership, he felt relieved. It was a lot less pressure to be around Annica. For once, it was actually fun. He would be okay if they had to work on two separate stories, or separate papers, or separate continents.
“So have you heard from her?” Annica said.
“Who?”
She rolled her eyes and took that first overflowing sip from her daiquiri.
“Kalani?” Annica just smiled sedately at him until he said, “Yes and no. Most of my contact is secondhand information through Jackson.”
“Well, that’s fine, right? You don’t want to blow her cover.”
“Never. But I’d still like to talk to her.”
“That’s exactly it,” Annica said. “That’s what Jackson’s worried about.”
“I’d be careful about it. I wouldn’t just call her on the phone.”
“Just keep in mind what it is.”
“What it is?”
“Witness protection.”
Ethan stared at his drink. “I just wish they wouldn’t protect her so much from me. Jesus . . .”
“You’re a public name. A media personality. And you’ve not only written about her story, but you lived it with her. You stole her away from the bad guys, for God’s sake. You can’t see why Jackson might want a little distance between you two?”
Ethan shrugged and finally picked up his glass. It pained him a little to play dumb like that. It pained him a little more to lie to Annica and the rest of the DARC team. But he’d been careful about Kalani. So damned careful . . .
“Tell me you get it,” Annica said, her face suddenly freezing as still as the slush in her drink. She glared at him until he spoke.
“I get it,” he said.
“You’ll just have to be patient with her. You’ll get your story soon enough.”
Screw the story. He wanted Kalani sooner.
“And the whole thing with DARC, you have to sort of earn your way in.” Annica continued as if she hadn’t noticed his sudden decision. “I know you pulled off some crazy stuff in Hawaii, some brave stuff that they all really admire. But this is the kind of situation where it really counts, where you’ve got to be disciplined and serious. Where you’ve got to avoid temptation.”
He laughed at that last part, but declined to elaborate as to how well he’d been avoiding temptations for Annica for the last several years. He had a good track record, but perhaps it wouldn’t be worth the awkwardness in bringing it up. Their friendship could only handle so much. Instead, Ethan raised his glass to hers for a quiet clink. “Don’t worry,” he said. “We’re on the right path.”
Annica smiled faintly. Something about it made Ethan remember that, like him, she had also found more than just a story in Hawaii. He wondered how similar their situations were. Cole was also newly involved with DARC Ops, but he wasn’t off-limits and in hiding like Kalani and her sister. He decided to just go for it and ask. “So, how’s Cole doing?”
She wore a different, more relaxed smile now. “He’s great.”
“I’m sure. Where is he?”
“In hiding.”
“No, he’s not. Isn’t he training?”
“Yeah,” Annica said. “He’s out with some of Jackson’s boys, and some new recruits. Have you met Matthias?”
“Where is he training?”
Annica chuckled.
“What,” Ethan said, playing dumb again. “Where is this training thing? Is it Maryland? Virginia?”
She took a long drink.
Ethan said, “West Virginia?”
“I’m not telling you where it is.”
He shook his head. “So much secrecy . . .”
That’s what happens in times like these. Jackson splinters us up in the four winds.”
“I believe they call it compartmentalization,” Ethan said.
“I believe you’re right.”
“And I believe you’re withholding information from me.”
“Right again,” she said.
“Why?”
“Jackson’s orders, again.”
“That wasn’t very smart of him,” Ethan said.
“Why?”
“Because that tells me where Kalani is.”
“Okay,” Annica said. “So where is she, then?”
Ethan chuckled and said, “Wherever the hell that training camp is being held.”
Annica made a little zipping-up motion across her lips.
“I had a hunch that she’d be there,” Ethan said. “She’s a great shot. Fearless . . . Security background . . .”
“More like foreground. You didn’t see how she dealt with Cole and me back in Hawaii. She’s a tough cookie.”
“I saw enough to know,” Ethan said, the imagery of Kalani shooting across his mind. That stealthy little ninja of his, half-dressed after surviving a tsunami, her smooth skin glistening with ocean water. The glint of the blade when she held a knife to the throat of her captor. That’s how Ethan had found her, already taking care of business in a half-demolished shipping facility at Hilo Harbor, rescuing herself and her sister from the clutches of the Khan Brothers, an international smuggling ring—and Blackwoods, their crooked security contractors who kept the operations moving. It was a big mess that had been sorted out with a tsunami, along with DARC Ops intervention. But there was still some more work to be done on the American mainland.
Dark Discovery (DARC Ops Book 8) Page 3