Bulletproof SEAL

by Carol Ericson

  Quinn shifted his body and lay on his side, propping up his head with one hand. “Who is he?”

  “Frederick Von is a character in David’s spy novel.”

  “That’s not what I expected to hear. David wrote a spy novel?”

  “He was working on one, and he shared it with me—yours is much better.”

  “That’s a relief to hear, but mine’s nonfiction. Why would David be sending emails to a fictional character—his own?”

  Rikki crossed her arms and hunched her shoulders. “Frederick Von was the bad guy in David’s book.”

  “I’m not following you, Rikki.”

  “Frederick Von was the bad guy—a traitor.”

  Quinn blinked.

  “A trai-tor.”

  Rikki strung out the two syllables as if speaking to someone with a tenuous hold on the English language, and right now he felt as if she were speaking in a different tongue.

  He shook his head. “You need to give me a break here. One minute I was ready to ravish you, and the next you’re staring at me speaking gibberish about some fictional character in a bad spy novel—and it would have to be bad if it’s worse than my drivel.”

  “I think David was being clever for the sake of being clever in those emails, just because he could and nobody would catch on...nobody but me.”

  “David is clever because I still don’t understand the significance.”

  “Von is a traitor, Quinn—just like David.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Whoa, whoa.” Quinn held up his hands. “How did you jump to that conclusion?”

  “Why the secret emails? Ariel discovered these on a different server, a nonclassified server that wouldn’t be under intense scrutiny after his death. There would’ve been no reason for David to send these emails. The only people who knew about the trip besides David were me and Ariel. David and I communicated in person about the trip. And what do those emails even mean? You said it yourself. They appeared to be cover for a code.”

  “A code. It doesn’t mean David was a traitor just because he used the name of his character, who happens to be a traitor.” Quinn slid back under the covers. “If it is true, what do you think David was doing in South Korea if not tracking down a lead on Vlad?”

  “I’m not sure, but it all went horribly wrong. David was killed, and I was captured by the North Koreans.” She stretched out beside Quinn and rested her head on his shoulder. “The whole assignment was off. I saw the red flags but didn’t trust my instincts, like David had always taught me.”

  “That’s convenient. David taught you to go with your gut...until your gut was warning you against him.”

  “I never thought I’d see the day when I had to look into David Dawson.”

  “Look into him? How do you propose to do that?”

  Draping her arm around Quinn’s waist, Rikki nuzzled his neck. “I’m going to pay a visit to Belinda, David’s widow.”

  “That’s a dangerous idea. You want to stay anonymous for as long as you can.”

  “Belinda and I never met. She doesn’t have a clue what I look like. She’d know the name, but I’m no longer Rikki Taylor, remember?”

  “I think you’d better let me check in on the widow.”

  “You’d come along?” She fluttered her eyelashes against his face. “You don’t even know where I’m going.”

  “Doesn’t matter. If you’re going to be doing any investigating, I’m coming with you.” He combed his fingers through her hair. “Where are we going?”

  “I’ll have to check for sure, but they lived in Georgia—Savannah. She’s from there, so I can’t imagine she’d want to leave after David’s death.”

  “We can drive, but I’m not sure what you hope to find out from her.”

  “It’s a start. Besides, most agents confide in their spouses, whether or not they’re supposed to. That’s why...” She broke off and buried her face in the hollow between Quinn’s neck and shoulder. That’s why she’d never wanted to get married or have a serious relationship with someone. That’s why she’d run out on Quinn without a backward glance. Her career always had to come first. She never wanted to follow in the footsteps of a man.

  But now she and Quinn had a child together, and the longer she waited to tell him, the harder it was going to be to spit it out. What was she afraid of? Quinn would welcome the news, despite his own fears of being a bad father.

  “Yeah, yeah.” He wrapped her in his arms. “That’s why you never wanted to get married. We don’t have to get married, Rikki, but we can pretend for a few nights.”

  Then he made love to her in a way that no married man had a right to make love to his wife.

  * * *

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Rikki searched for Belinda Dawson and found her in Savannah. She poked at the monitor displaying the address and said, “I think this is a different address from the one she shared with David, but at least she’s still in Savannah.”

  “Then it’s on to Georgia today. Map it out and see how far we have to go. It’s about a ten-hour drive, if you’re up to it. I think it’s safer than flying right now, even though you have your fake ID.”

  “Driving is fine.” She entered Belinda’s address on the computer. “Will your car make it?”

  “It’s sturdier than it looks, and I just changed the oil. Let’s get some breakfast, throw a few things in a bag and hit the road.”

  She tapped the print key and heard the printer in the other room gear up. “That car may be sturdier than it looks, but I know it doesn’t have a GPS.”

  “I’ll use my phone’s GPS, but we need a plan beyond showing up on her doorstep, especially if you’re not going to out yourself.”

  “We have ten hours to think up a plan.” Rikki hopped off the stool and circled into the kitchen. “Besides, we need to get out of New Orleans. You just disabled those two guys. You didn’t eliminate them.”

  “Yeah, can you imagine me explaining two dead bodies in my hometown?”

  “At least those two dead bodies aren’t ours.” She grabbed the coffeepot and raised it. “Eggs or pancakes?”

  Two hours later, Quinn aimed his little junker car across the Pontchartrain bridge and they headed out of New Orleans.

  Rikki dozed while Quinn drove the first few hours, and she woke up trying to hold on to the last wisps of dreams about Bella. Her heart ached, and she wanted nothing more than to call Mom in Jamaica and hear her daughter’s coos and babbles.

  She slid a sidelong glance at Quinn. He’d probably want to hear his daughter, too. She had to tell him, sooner rather than later. If she waited for the perfect time, she’d never tell him. There would never be a perfect time to tell him that she’d discovered her pregnancy while on assignment in South Korea and had spent the next few months of that pregnancy locked up in a North Korean labor camp, and then believing the father of her child had tried to assassinate her. Yeah, never a perfect time for that.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Sure, why?”

  “You sighed like you meant it. Are you having second thoughts?”

  “About this trip?” About telling him about his child? “No. I know this is the right thing to do.”

  He cocked an eyebrow while drilling the road ahead with his gaze. “The right thing to do? You make it sound like a moral decision. It’s just a chance we’re taking that Belinda knows something about David’s activities before his death.”

  “I know that.” She covered his hand clenching the steering wheel with her own. “It’s nice being on the road with you. Do you want me to drive for a while?”

  “I can go for another few hours. Then we’ll stop for gas, get something to eat, and you can take the wheel.”

  “Just let me know.” She stretched her arms to the roof of the car and wiggled her fingers. “A big guy like you needs a b
igger car than this.”

  “Not the best for long trips, but when I’m home I don’t drive it much. I stick with my bike.”

  “How much more leave do you have?”

  “Less than a month, and I intend to help you wrap this up before my next deployment.”

  “I appreciate it, but that’s not why I contacted you.”

  “I know.” He turned up the air. “You looked me up to find out if I was really going to kill you. How did you find out it was me behind that sniper rifle?”

  “Not telling.” She clapped a hand over her mouth.

  “Ariel. It had to be Ariel. What can you tell me about her? Are you close to her?”

  With her hand still over her mouth, Rikki shook her head.

  Quinn puffed out a breath. “Whatever. I know you female spies stick together. She’s risking a lot by keeping your secret and giving you classified information.”

  “David’s emails aren’t classified, and Ariel doesn’t work for the CIA. She’s Prospero and doesn’t report to anyone.”

  “Yeah, Jack Coburn’s black ops agency, but I didn’t realize she had such free reign.”

  “Oops, then I guess I did reveal something about her. See how that works?” She snapped her fingers. “That’s why we’re paying a visit to David’s widow.”

  “About that, now that you’ve had a nap, let’s brainstorm. Who are we and why are we there?”

  Rikki drummed her fingers on the dashboard. “We’re with the Agency. If she tried to check up on our story, she won’t be surprised if the CIA denies our existence. She and David had been married for twenty years. She knows the drill.”

  “Okay, we’re with the Agency. How about from human resources? We’re following up on some benefits? Or we’re collecting some equipment.”

  “The second scenario is more likely, since HR would just call or send an email. If we were checking up on equipment, that would explain our in-person visit.”

  Quinn skimmed his hands over the steering wheel, warming to the task. “Maybe someone already confirmed that she had David’s equipment for pickup. The fact that she doesn’t know what we’re talking about can be written off as bureaucratic red tape.”

  “Plenty of that, and your story might give us an excuse to look around.”

  He let out a short laugh and hit the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. “Would you let two goons from the CIA search your place?”

  “After what they did to me?” She rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t let them set foot on my porch.”

  Quinn took a swig from the bottle of water in the cup holder. “I thought that was the point of this whole exercise. I thought you wanted back in at the Agency.”

  “I want my life back, my reputation. I want to be able to return to the States as Rikki Taylor without getting taken down at gunpoint.”

  “And you wouldn’t go back to the CIA if they’d have you? Does that mean you’re done with the spy business?”

  “I don’t know.” She flicked the air vent away from her and rubbed the goose bumps from her arms.

  They’d veered onto dangerous ground here. She didn’t want to talk to Quinn about the future—hers, theirs. Right now she just wanted to clear her name and be with Bella without worry. And Quinn? She’d never wanted him more, but she had to tell him about Bella.

  “Kids?”

  She choked on the water she’d just sipped. “What?”

  “Kids. Do David and Belinda have children?”

  “They don’t.”

  “Good. I mean, that makes things a little easier, and it makes sense.”

  “Does it?”

  “Why would someone in David’s line of work...or yours...want children? Just a complication.”

  Rikki stuffed her hands beneath her thighs. From the frying pan to the fire. “People do.”

  “Selfish people.”

  She reached forward and twisted the knob for the air. “It’s cold in here. So, we’re CIA paper pushers looking for government equipment. I’m going to use a different name from the one on my current ID. No need for anyone to link up April Thompson from Canada with a CIA agent. Who are you?”

  “I’ll think about it, but we’ll probably need some badges in case she asks for ID.”

  “You’re right.” She pressed her fist against her forehead. “I’m sure David taught her to be cautious.”

  “Do you think you could have someone re-create that badge?”

  “To pass someone’s brief glance? Sure. Do you know Savannah? I don’t. Where would we get these badges?”

  “You know as well as I do, there are people in every city across the country who provide these services—for a price.”

  She patted her purse, thinking about Baily in Jamaica. “I sure do, but we’re not going to have much time.”

  “Since you can’t exactly call one of your former contacts, I can ask one of my teammates to look up something in Savannah for us.”

  “Your navy SEAL teammates? Would they know?”

  “You’d be surprised what they know about covert operations, especially now. Your BFF, Ariel, has been dragging them in from deployment to do her bidding.”

  “Really?” Rikki folded her arms across her stomach. Had Ariel had an ulterior motive in directing her to stop in on Quinn when she arrived stateside? She hadn’t needed much encouragement, as she’d wanted to square things with Quinn first...and tell him about Bella, but Ariel had initiated the idea.

  “Why is Ariel using your sniper teammates for these assignments?”

  “Because of Vlad. Because we know him. Because he knows us.”

  She whipped her head to the side. “Vlad knows you?”

  “Who do you think nicknamed him Vlad?” He jabbed a thumb against his chest. “That was us, or more specifically I think it was my teammate Alexei Ivanov, the moody Russian.”

  “Why Vlad? He’s not Russian, is he?”

  “We don’t know what he is. He’s a man of many disguises. Just when we think we know what he looks like, he appears as someone else.”

  “So if he’s not Russian, that you know of, why’d Alexei start calling him Vlad?”

  “Because of his Russian sniper rifle—the Dragunov. Alexei uses the same rifle. Vlad was a sniper for the opposition forces, any opposition forces, before he started amassing his terrorist network. We came up against him many times. Sometimes we bested him, sometimes he bested us, but we never killed each other. Make no mistake about it, Vlad knows my entire team. I think he even reached out to the Russian mobster who killed Alexei’s father just for that reason.”

  A chill claimed her body, and she’d turned off the air conditioner ten miles ago. “That’s scary.”

  “Yeah, it’s personal, so Ariel fights fire with fire. She’s involved us in the battle to bring him down. I think I’m the only one who’s escaped—and here I am.”

  “Yeah, here you are.” Rikki nibbled on the end of her finger.

  Quinn glanced her way and flexed his fingers on the steering wheel “What are you saying? Are you telling me it wasn’t your idea to look me up?”

  “It was my idea, but...”

  “But Ariel was on board.” Quinn twisted his head to the side and pinned her with a questioning gaze. “Ariel knows about us?”

  Rikki dipped her chin to her chest. “She does. Sh-she knew before, before I even went on that assignment in Korea with David.”

  Quinn whistled. “I wonder if she knew you were my target before I did.”

  “I don’t know why she would.” Rikki traced the pattern on her skirt with her fingertip. “She’s not CIA. Why would the Agency give Prospero a heads-up on their...assassinations? Especially of one of their own.”

  “C’mon. Prospero has ways of discovering things, even about other intelligence agencies. They’re the best in the business.�
�

  He picked up his bottle and swirled the water inside.

  “I can’t believe Ariel knew about our relationship and knew about your assignment and did nothing to warn you.”

  “She did.” Quinn slammed the bottle back in the cup holder. “She did, damn it.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “After the navy revealed my target to me, along with the evidence of your betrayal, I was sick. I didn’t think I could go through with it.”

  “But the evidence was irrefutable.” She twirled her finger in the air. “I believe you.”

  “When I was already in South Korea preparing for the assignment, I received an anonymous text on my secure phone. Just two words—she’s innocent.”

  Rikki gasped and smacked her hand against her chest. “Ariel?”

  “Who else? Of course, the text sent me into a tailspin, planted doubts in my head. I couldn’t call off the mission based on an anonymous text. It could’ve been from the enemy. But it was enough. When I saw those soldiers marching you along, guns at your back, and saw your last, desperate attempt to get away from the very people you were supposed to be conspiring with, I knew the truth.”

  “You’re here because Ariel wanted you here with me—looking into who set me up, looking into Vlad.”

  “Since it wasn’t your own idea to contact me, I’m grateful to Ariel for intervening.” His lips twisted into a bitter smile.

  “She didn’t have to do much convincing, Quinn. I wanted to see you. After the initial shock and anger and much reflection, I knew you’d changed your mind about that mission, about me.” She rubbed her hand down his bare thigh.

  “Where did you do all this reflecting? You haven’t even told me where you were after the escape from North Korea.”

  She owed him. “Jamaica.”

  “Jamaica?” His thigh muscles tensed beneath her touch. “What’s there?”

  “My mother and stepfather.”

  “Ah, the former hippie, right?”

  “They’ve been there for years. My stepfather runs the rental shop out of one of the resorts there—snorkeling equipment, skimboards, parasails. My mother met him there and stayed, which is no surprise. She’d follow any man anywhere, always did.”