Butterfly Ops

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Butterfly Ops Page 9

by Jen Doyle


  His family had actually all—even Kate—been very generous in sharing him over the last few days, seemingly happy to have her have dinner with them before both she and Ian crashed from the sheer exertion of each day. But being around his parents and kids was still entirely outside her comfort zone, enough so that she actually found herself looking forward to this trip, even if it meant she’d be going into the woods for the next few weeks. At least she'd have his voice in her earpiece for most of that time.

  Tommy had already gotten to the café where they’d arranged to meet for breakfast. He pulled out a chair for her as she approached. Her eyebrows shot up. “Since when are you all chivalrous?”

  His deep brown eyes flashed with laughter. “Since you show up looking like that.”

  “Like what?” she asked innocently as she picked up the menu, although she knew full well. So maybe she’d decked herself out in a brand new candy apple red dress that hugged her curves but in an entirely professional way. Though the three-inch Jason Wu heels might have been pushing it, they were still respectable. The sheer black stockings with garters, lacy lingerie that matched, and dab of perfume at some strategic pulse points not so much, but she had no intention of anyone other than Ian experiencing those. Although…

  She glared at Tommy. “Superpower free zone, right?” He didn’t have x-ray vision, but, demon that he was, he did have the ability to both read minds and control them. And, honestly, right now she had very little control over her mind when she thought about Ian, even when her thoughts ran in perfectly innocent directions. They were not running in particularly innocent directions today, however, and she had no interest in letting Tommy in.

  He held his hands up. “As always.” Then he smiled as he looked down at his own menu. “But you should probably know that you practically glow when you’re thinking about sex, and your skin gets all pink and rosy. No one needs to be a mind-reader to figure that out. So you might want to tone it down a little.”

  Her mouth dropped open as the menu dropped to the table. “It doesn’t. I don’t,” she hissed, although she felt a bit of a flush rising to her cheeks.

  “I’ve seen you naked, Lyn.” Which he had—for a week’s worth of one night stands about five years back. “It does and you do.” His eyes twinkled. “It’s kind of adorable.”

  Adorable wasn’t what she’d been going for by any means, and she was glad he steered the conversation away from Ian and sex and nakedness, for heaven’s sake, to much more mundane topics. Like how Monica wanted them to come to meet with her because she wanted them all to head into a “quick” meeting together. A “quick” meeting Lyndsey was fairly certain would somehow involve Ian. Thus the get-up. She figured she could give him at least something to look forward to after all was said and done.

  Sure enough, an hour later she received a text from Ian asking if she knew anything about why his and Matt’s presence had been requested at Parliament at 11:30 that morning or why their meeting with the police had been postponed again.

  No, she texted back, but Tommy and I are meeting with MC there at 11 so I’m guessing I’ll be seeing you soon.

  Can’t wait, he replied.

  Lyndsey was only sixty percent sure he wasn’t kidding.

  She and Tommy gave themselves a little extra time before the meeting because Lyndsey had wanted to do a little Parliamentarian sight-seeing, but it took longer than expected due to the extra security involved with a meeting at the Canadian seat of government. Monica was already waiting for them in the small conference room by the time they got upstairs. Next to her was a man who stood to greet Lyndsey and Tommy as they walked in. More pretty than handsome with his jet-black hair and deep blue eyes, the man was in his mid- to late- thirties, and had a body that indicated he tended toward the athletic.

  “This is Dominic Garneau,” Monica said, introducing them all as they sat down around the table. “He’s the curator of the museum in Atikokan.” Atikokan being the town outside of Quetico, the provincial park they’d soon be heading into and where Ian’s team would be establishing their command post. “He’s amassed an incredible collection in the time he’s been there. The artifacts from the indigenous cultures alone are beyond compare. Amazing for someone who’s only been there six years.”

  “Monica is one of my biggest fans,” Dominic said, pushing his glasses back up on his nose. “She’s been incredibly supportive of our work.”

  “How nice,” Lyndsey answered, because, well, what else was she supposed to say? She sucked at small talk.

  And it clearly wasn’t going to get better, unfortunately, as Dominic looked at Lyndsey and said, “Will you be assisting Mr. Catalano?”

  The question was one Lyndsey had come to expect and yet it irritated her every time. “No.” Which was maybe said a little too curtly but whatever.

  Tommy, thankfully, was not in any way put off by having to answer, “Lyndsey’s actually the muscle.” He gave an easy grin. “The rest of us are just the sidekicks.”

  Oh, how she loved the man. There weren’t many guys who’d be man enough to say that about the five-foot four blonde sitting next to them.

  Monica smiled back, although she didn’t seem particularly happy. “I understand you’ve been in Boston training with this other team. Was that your idea?”

  Shouldn’t that be considered a good thing? “Is that a problem?”

  “Well, I hope you’ve at least been looking into them,” Monica said. “I don’t particularly trust them.”

  Yes, that had been made eminently clear. But Lyndsey had no intention of biting. “We’re good.”

  As Monica frowned, Tommy leaned in and gave her a reassuring smile. “I think what Lyndsey meant to say was that both she and Zachary have worked with them before.”

  “Yes,” Monica said, coldly. “I gathered that. Given what we’re paying you, however, I expected that you’d be doing a little bit more information gathering even if you are on good terms.”

  Very good terms, thank you very much, although Lyndsey probably shouldn’t have put quite so much saccharine into her smile. “I can assure you I’ve been doing extensive information gathering.”

  Lyndsey knew she was pushing it—probably not the best thing to snipe at the client. But she was irritated. When she was fighting vampires and demons, that was actually a preferred trait; in situations like this, on the other hand, not so much. Probably why it had taken Zach so long to let her move up into the whole partner status thing.

  “Have you done much hiking?” Dominic asked in what seemed like an attempt to break the tension. “It’s pretty physical. You’ll probably be out in the Park for a few weeks at least. The only modes of travel are foot, bike, and boat. And probably not even bike, because you still have to carry all your gear.”

  Though Lyndsey wasn’t an enthusiastic outdoors type, she’d done enough hiking and camping to know what she’d been signed up for. And she had no intention of letting them intimidate her. “Sounds fun,” she answered, drumming her fingers on the table and thinking she maybe wasn’t suited for this sitting and talking thing after all.

  Monica added, “Another consideration is that you’ll most likely be the only woman out there. Will that make you uncomfortable?” As she spoke, she picked an almost nonexistent piece of lint off of her perfectly tailored suit.

  “Nope,” Lyndsey answered, leaving it at that.

  Sitting back in her chair, Monica gave Lyndsey a hard stare and then glanced at Dominic. After a few moments, she finally said, “I’m not entirely comfortable with the American team running this entire project. And, frankly, I’m not confident you’ll be able to assert control if need be. I’m wondering if I should ask Zachary—”

  “Ms. Cain,” Lyndsey said, surprised at how calmly she was able to reply. Zach would be so proud. Because, after all, this was what she’d been worried about the other day—that they’d question her being able to do this; that she’d have to defend herself without actually throwing a punch. “I have absolutely no
issues asserting control,” she said, grateful Tommy kept his smirk mostly hidden. Turning to Dominic, she added, “And as long as I’m at it, I have absolutely no qualms about either the physical demands or the atmosphere. I can handle myself; the ZSJ team will be ready.” This part of the conversation was so over. “Don’t we have a meeting to get to?” She pushed her chair back and stood up, not caring too much that Monica wasn’t thrilled, to put it mildly. But the other woman’s response was cut short when Dominic’s phone rang.

  “Sorry, I have to take this,” he said, lifting the phone to his ear.

  Monica merely nodded before standing up as well, turning her back on Lyndsey and Tommy, and leading them into the adjoining room.

  Where, of course, Lyndsey’s eyes were immediately drawn to the man she couldn’t get out of her head. Because, yes, her suspicions had been correct. Monica was throwing this meeting at both of them.

  Unlike the last time she’d been thrown into this situation, when the men in the room got up Lyndsey just smiled and sat down. No flustering this time around, thank you very much. Or, to be more specific, no flustering on her part. There were more than a few cleared throats when she walked in.

  “Ian,” she said, giving him as serene a smile as she could manage considering she felt like she was ready to hurt someone, the most likely target being the woman who had hired ZSJ in the first place. Not exactly on the best practices list for client relations, she assumed.

  “Lyndsey,” he answered, sitting back in his chair, the corner of his mouth ticking up as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.

  He was looking mighty fine, all decked out in full military dress uniform, badges and patches adorning his uniform, pins flashing in the light as he shifted back. He sat in between Matt and Sprague, and the image the three men presented was imposing, Lyndsey had to admit. She was possibly also more than a little turned on. It wasn’t helping one bit that all of the talk about Ian and her connection to him had her flashing on the memory of him taking her up against the wall of her garage when he’d dropped her off at her house the day before. She forced her gaze away from him—and Tommy, for that matter, whose smirk had only grown bigger—in order to look around the room. There were a fair number of older bureaucratic types, reflecting the room itself quite well, in fact, with its formal portraits on the walls and microphones at every seat as though everyone were on trial.

  Not quite what Lyndsey had expected.

  Were these Monica’s bosses? Was that why this meeting was happening? As far as Lyndsey was aware, this hadn’t been part of the original plan but had instead been called together over the last day or so. And it didn’t bode well that of the 25 seats in the room, twenty were occupied by Monica’s people. A show of force now that everyone was on Monica’s turf?

  It was times like this Lyndsey wished she could read minds, too. Not because she was worried about Ian and Matt—she’d been impressed by the way they’d handled the meeting in Boston, and that had been before she’d spent the last two weeks with them. But she had no idea what Monica’s plan was, and Lyndsey hated unnecessary surprises.

  “Are we waiting for someone?” Matt asked, ignoring everyone else as he addressed Monica.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Monica answered from her seat at the head of the table, “did I not mention it? The PM has asked to be apprised. We thought we’d bring in some of his staff as well, just to make sure everyone’s on the same page.”

  Lyndsey couldn’t contain her surprise. Assuming “PM” meant “Prime Minister,” they’d brought in the big guns, clearly hoping to put Ian and Matt in their place. Rather than react the way Monica had no doubt wanted him to, however, Matt just nodded and settled into his chair, relaxed and comfortable as could possibly be. Good for him.

  Ian leaned back as well. “I hope you didn’t have them rearrange anything just to see us. We would have happily accommodated their schedule.”

  There was a smile on his face, whereas Monica’s held a bit of a frown. Whether that was because Ian had some pull Monica hadn’t been aware of, or because he’d known this was a specially arranged meeting to come see them—which would mean they were more important than Monica was treating them to be—Lyndsey wasn’t sure. All she could tell was that, whatever the reason behind it, Ian had just completely pissed Monica off.

  Monica gave Ian a cool smile. She was saved from answering by the arrival of the staff she’d talked about.

  And Dominic, who did an actual double-take when he walked into the room and saw Ian for the first time. Which was…odd. Odd enough that Lyndsey couldn’t help but wonder if she’d imagined it.

  They started off the meeting by confirming the arrangements from the meeting in Boston: Ian and Matt would be sending two teams of eight into the woods, armed only with tasers and pistols. ZSJ would have the team of two. That was all fine and good. They then moved on to the reason Ian and Matt had come up here yesterday, which had been to meet with the detectives overseeing the case and get access to their files. Even though it was someone within the police force who had reached out to Ian and Matt in the first place, as Lyndsey had learned over the course of the last few days, Monica had overruled whoever it was in the police department who wanted to work with them.

  And, apparently, she’d blocked them from meeting again this morning. “My apologies if that caused any inconvenience,” she was saying now, even though it was clear she wasn’t at all sorry. And it had, of course, caused an inconvenience, given that Ian and Matt had clearly traveled here last night for no reason.

  “I decided I’d like for Lyndsey and Tom to accompany you,” she continued, “so I asked them to move it to tomorrow. I’m sure you can adjust your schedules accordingly.”

  Well, then. Considering Lyndsey was about to blow a gasket for being jerked around; she could only imagine what was going through Ian’s head right now. And yet rather than react with the irritation that would have been completely justified, he just nodded thoughtfully. “That makes sense. Thanks for arranging that.” Then he turned to Matt as if this had been planned all along. “So then let’s tell Annika we can see her this afternoon.”

  Annika? The name rang a bell and yet it took some deliberate concentration to remember what she’d read in the files: Annika Willett. The girlfriend of Dan Swanson, the most recent hiker to disappear. Also the woman Ian had been trying to reach all week and who had been avoiding his calls. Yet Matt just answered, “Sounds good,” as he nodded mildly and pulled out his phone to thumb a quick text, which Lyndsey assumed was to make those arrangements. And possibly also to go along with Ian in making an obvious show that they weren’t swayed by this power play in any way whatsoever, which had clearly been Monica’s intention as was evidenced by the tension playing out over her face. But she also managed a smile as she nodded.

  “So was there anything else?” Matt was saying. “If not, we—”

  “Actually, yes,” Monica answered. “There is.” And since the smile on her face this time wasn’t tight at all, it was clear that a bomb was about to be dropped. Lyndsey could even see Ian’s whole body loosen up, the surefire sign he was getting ready to go on the offensive.

  Not that she’d been watching him intently or anything.

  “After discussing it with Lyndsey and Thomas,” Monica was saying, “I think you might be under the misconception that you’re overseeing this project. ZSJ will be controlling all aspects of the job from Quetico; and, along with ZSJ operatives, Colonel Fox and Major Sprague will each co-lead one of the teams heading into the park.”

  Wait.

  What?

  Monica wanted Ian out in the field? Oh, hell, no. The Command Center was already too close to whatever was was out there waiting for him.

  But before Lyndsey could even shift forward to say as much, she felt Tommy’s hand on her leg.

  Matt, on the other hand, didn’t have Tommy to stop him. He was obviously angry—had already moved forward with the clear intention to argue the point. But as he started to
say something, he glanced to his right and, like Lyndsey, realized Ian had responded in the entirely opposite way.

  Ian, in fact, was just leaning back in his chair, legs stretching out in front of him, and and hands coming together in a steeple formation as if the only concern he had at the moment was where the best place would be to grab lunch. He touched the tips of his fingers to his lips as a smile came over his face.

  “It does appear there’s been some confusion,” he said, unruffled. “If you’ll recall, it was Ms. Langdon who suggested I be in Quetico while the operation is carried out. And,” he added with an easy grin, “I believe you were the one who required it.” Which was exactly how Lyndsey remembered the conversation in Boston as well. She hadn’t liked it then, either.

  He brought his ankle up to rest on his knee, casual as could be. “Frankly I’d much prefer to be in the woods.”

  Ummm…

  Sitting back in his chair, Matt didn’t look at all happy at this turn of events. Despite the tension obvious from his clenched jaw, however, he didn’t say anything.

  Turning his palms up in a whatever-you-want gesture, Ian continued, “And I have no issues whatsoever working under Lyndsey.”

  Matt did actually turn and glare at Ian with that one, but he still held his tongue. Tommy, on the other hand, had a little bit of a coughing fit as Lyndsey’s cheeks turned bright red. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Go on.”

  Ian finished with, “As soon as you’re clear on what you want, just let us know.” Then he turned away from Monica and looked straight at Lyndsey, a twinkle in his eye. “I’m prepared to do whatever you need. You can crack a whip and everything.”

  “Thank you,” Lyndsey said, working hard on being as unruffled as he was—and also at not saying how much she truly did not like this turn of events. Sure, they were only at the fact-finding stage, but there were no guarantees—not when they had a victim profile that pointed a flashing red arrow directly at him. Even she knew that saying what she was thinking would just be another bomb, this one of the atomic variety, however, and she had no interest in making things any worse. So with a great deal of self-restraint, she turned to Monica. “Just to make sure there are no further ‘misconceptions,’ I’m happy to state for the record that Colonel Fox has been exceedingly flexible so far.” Then she glared at Ian just for good measure. “No need for whips of any kind.”

 

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