“You know she was there?” Brock asked, acting as if he couldn’t quite process the possibility. “You saw her. You’re certain it was her, right?”
“As sure as I’m sitting here,” Cade pounded a fist on the table before he shoved away altogether and stood once more.
“Sit down, Livingston!” Brock’s face turned red.
Cade snarled. He started to protest, but decided they were wasting time and took a seat once more.
“I didn’t recognize her voice right away,” Drake admitted, likely feeling as if he had failed his team—or at least Cade—since he’d been slow to make the connection. “After Cade brought her voice to my attention, I was sure. It’s a match. You should’ve seen her. She was trying to deliberately change her voice, but there’s not a question in my mind.”
“Why didn’t you tell us someone else was working in the Longhorn division?” Cade asked. “Is she a shadow?”
Riley took a deep breath, before he replied with a sharp and pointed, “No.” He locked his focus on his older brother.
That was the dead ringer right there. He was lying through his teeth.
Brock said, “We have the occasional independent working for us. They aren’t operatives, but they’re useful sources we need, and often use, before sending in our teams. You know all this without being reminded. Did you bump your head while you were being interrogated, Cade? You’re not acting like yourself.”
Abby rolled her eyes.
“My thoughts exactly, Princess,” Cade said, catching a grunt from Ace.
God, the man was positively and insanely jealous over his woman.
“Did you know about this?” Cade asked, directing the question to Ace.
“No, he didn’t,” Brock replied for him.
“I didn’t ask you, Donovan.” Cade kept his head turned toward Ace.
“If I had known, I would’ve told you.”
“Goldilocks?” Cade questioned Abby. “What about you?”
“Oh for crying out loud.” Riley laughed. “If Abby had known, Ace and every other operative she takes to her bed would’ve been privy to the same Intel. That kind of information would’ve leaked given the number of men on her team.”
“Thanks, Riley. You make me sound like a real whore.”
Ace grunted and pulled her to his lap. Stroking her back, he peered around that silken curtain of golden hair. “You can sleep in my bed anytime and charge me by the minute, honey.”
“Enough,” Brock said, sternly pointing his finger at the lovebirds.
Cade deliberately ignored the couple love demonstrated and focused on the facts. Riley and Brock were covering up something big and Cade was pissed, but he would be downright furious if a woman held a shadow slot. “My money says she’s a shadow.”
“Right. That would be like sending in an eighty-year-old grandmother to watch over a few Marines,” Ace said.
Brock and Riley seemed to go out of their way in an effort not to steal a glance at the other one.
“She’s a fucking shadow?” Cade’s rage took hold and he leapt to his feet. “Are you out of your damn minds?”
“Calm your ass down,” Brock said, shaking his finger at the chair Cade had vacated.
“What the hell is wrong with you? The shadows are promoted within. We’ve never had a shadow—that I know of—that hasn’t had years of experience under his belt.”
“That you know of, Cade,” Brock pointed out. “If you knew about every shadow we have placed then they wouldn’t be very good shadows now would they?”
Cade couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This was a lot to process. A woman had secured a shadow position on their team without experience, without anyone on the team acknowledging the fact, and now she’d apparently turned on them and three of the Underground Unit’s best men were dead?
Brock said, “You were never supposed to meet her.”
Drake snorted at that. “So what? You think we went out and dragged her in here?”
“She was able to secure a contact at the hospital,” Riley quickly explained. “We made a split decision to move her inside with every intention of pulling her right back out with a new identity later.”
“Must be a hell of a contact. She was on the intercom earlier today.”
“Her contact is the hospital administrator,” Brock said. “They’re seeing one another.”
“Somebody needs to tell the boyfriend that relationships tend to end without warning in this business.”
“If she made some sort of announcement, maybe her guy was out of his office or maybe she picked you up on camera and watched you leave the hospital. Perhaps she wanted to see if you recognized her voice,” Riley said.
“Sometimes curiosity lifts a well-placed cover,” Brock muttered.
Drake snarled. “Kind of makes you question who you’ve placed where, huh, Donovan?”
“Not at all,” Brock said.
“We know where our operatives are at all times,” Riley assured them.
“Like hell you do!” Cade’s temper flared, but quickly cooled with an ah-ha moment. “Wait a minute.” Cade was slapped with a good dose of truth then. “You knew she was at the warehouse from the very beginning?”
Brock’s lips twitched. The information drop wasn’t a Freudian slip. Brock didn’t trip up unless it was intentional and Riley’s lips were tighter than a virgin’s pussy.
Riley said, “You were warned. This is a long story.”
Cade crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t have anywhere I need to be. Start talking.”
Chapter Five
After a grueling meeting, Brock and Riley left the ranch and a lot of unanswered questions behind them. Drake sat in front of his floor-to-ceiling window. Outside, cattle and horses stirred in the upper field. A horse trailer backed up to the stables on the adjoining property and its tail lights flickered whenever the driver tapped the brakes.
“You watching for someone or is this how you spend your free evenings?” Ace entered and made himself at home, leaning against the terrace doors.
Realizing he’d been sitting there for more than an hour, Drake stretched his legs forward and clasped his hands behind his head. “I started to go for a swim. Then, I looked down on that damned kidney-shape swimming pool and the first thing that came to mind is how close Cade and I came to losing vital organs, if not our lives.” He cleared his throat. “Then I thought of Phillip, David, and Manny.”
“This was a terrible blow for the unit,” Ace said.
“For the unit, for me personally,” Drake said, letting his voice trail. “The world as we know it will never be the same.”
“You guys were close. I know it’s tough.”
“You don’t know shit, Ace,” Drake said, incredibly bitter.
“You’re right. I don’t know from experience. I’ve lost people close to me but I’ve never had to deal with three losses of this magnitude all at one time. I didn’t carry those deaths and suffer the kind of torture you and Cade had to endure. So you are right, my friend. I don’t know shit.”
“Man, I’m sorry,” Drake muttered.
“You don’t owe me an apology. You don’t owe me or Brock or Cade or anyone else a damn thing. But let me tell you whose debt you’re in.” Ace pointed to a picture on the mantel. “Those men there would expect you to live on.
“Manny, David, and Phillip would want you to get off your ass, dust off your jeans, and shine up those boots for a real ass-kicking. That’s what they’d expect. That’s what they’d want. They damn sure wouldn’t want you sitting here feeling guilty because you made it out alive and they’re dead and buried.”
Silence then fell upon them like a gavel pounding with weighted burdens far too heavy for any one man to carry. Finally, Drake said, “Phillip told me to get out.”
“What are you talking about, a dream or something?”
“No. When we were at the warehouse and he was already down. Blood was gushing from his gut. He knew he was dying. He k
new he didn’t have a chance in hell of walking out of there and yet the only thing on his mind was using his last breath to warn me. He told me to get out of the business. He said if I didn’t get out, all I’d have to look forward to was a death like his.” Drake paused before he added, “Ace, is that all I have to look forward to?”
“You think any of us look forward to death?” A beat later, he grunted. “Hell no.”
“I’ve thought a lot about those last seconds I spent with Phillip. I’ve analyzed it and came up with my own theory. Life gives us nothing.
“We chose a career path that put us in the line of fire. We chose a job that has its share of occupational hazards for our friends, our families if we have them, as well as ourselves. And what do we walk away with at the end of our days? Nothing but memories from our careers.”
“My family and friends are in the business,” Ace pointed out.
“I don’t have any family.” Drake nodded at the framed photograph. “Those guys were my family.”
“Then do yourself a favor. Take care of the brother you have left. You and Cade need one another right now. Walking away from the Underground Unit isn’t an option. Phillip was too young and too green to know that. The best thing you can do for yourself and for Cade now is to accept what has happened, hold fast to the memories you have, and work your ass off to remove this new threat.”
“Right now, all I can do is plan, and I plan to kill the bastards who started this war. Then, I’ll go after their families the same way they came after mine.”
* * * *
Ace slipped in bed without waking Abby. As soon as his head hit the pillow, she curled up in his arms and rested her head on his chest. Seconds later, she was snoring once again. He dragged her closer, peering down at the beautiful woman who had stolen away with his heart.
He wondered then about their lives and career choices. Could he handle it if something happened to her? Could he face a new day if someone came in and tore his world apart by taking away the only woman he’d ever really loved?
He drew her tighter against his body and released a troubled breath. He knew the answer and he understood Drake’s response, too, yet he couldn’t ignore that nagging suspicion.
Ace had a responsibility. He needed to go to Donovan and tell him what Drake had in mind, yet he couldn’t bring himself to pick up the phone. He wouldn’t make that call tomorrow or the day after.
Drake planned to take matters into his own hands and Ace couldn’t fault him for that. He could, however, call in reinforcements and ask someone to keep an eye on him. Scott Zelmore would be there soon and he’d sit down and talk with Zelmore once he arrived.
Somebody needed to make sure Drake didn’t go vigilante on them and put them all at risk. What better person to do that than a man known for his renegade tactics?
Scott Zelmore was the only person Ace knew who could champion his own causes and take out an entire army during an operation, too.
Yep, Ace would talk to Zelmore. Once Scott arrived, he would help him keep an eye on Drake.
Ace could trust him. He was the last man on the planet who would ever report back to Donovan.
Chapter Six
Denver, Colorado
Private Hospital
Brock slipped in behind Sydney at the chapel. Massaging her shoulders, he whispered at her ear, “How’s he doing?”
Keeping her head bowed, Sydney shook her head. “I don’t know.”
Giving her a sudden squeeze, he released a burdened sigh and whispered. “I’ll check in on him.” He turned to leave.
“Brock?”
“Yes?”
“Are you going after them?”
“Yes.”
“And Riley and Jett?”
“They’ll go, too, Sydney.”
Her eyes were like fire. There was no fear and little angst behind her gaze. In that exact moment, Brock couldn’t help but wonder if Sydney had changed. She’d grown accustomed to witnessing death, or perhaps her age had hardened her because of the quality of life the business had stripped away from them.
The Sydney he had fallen in love with all those years ago, the Sydney he’d watched grow into a beautiful young woman, had aged and matured before his very eyes. And he loved her all the more. He admired her strength.
“I want you to promise me something.”
Brock braced for her words. “I’ll do my best.” He suspected what she would ask before she made the request.
“Your best isn’t good enough this time,” she snapped. “I want you to kill them. I want you to kill them all. You promise me that their children and their children’s children will never have the opportunity to come back and hurt our friends and family. You get them, Brock. And you make them pay. I want you to promise me you’ll do that.”
Her gaze bore into his with a determination he’d never witnessed before. And as much as he loved her, as much as he wanted to tell her what she needed to hear, he could not. He would not lie to the only woman he’d ever loved.
He tilted her chin and kissed her lips. Then, he simply walked away.
At the end of the hall, he took a left and then an immediate right. Posted outside Manny’s room, Scott Zelmore and Drew Remington looked right at him but didn’t speak. Manny was like their little brother.
In recent years, the three operatives had been nearly inseparable. It wasn’t so long ago that Drew had been out of commission and unable to work within a division unit. Brock had opened the Underground Club operation in Las Vegas, and stuck Remington there to nurse his wounds, wounds that had made both man and operative nothing more than a lean, mean killing machine. Manny and Scott hadn’t been far behind him.
They worked so well together, Brock later sent them on shotgun missions, attacks planned for quick assaults, blindside operations where they could get in, get out, and return home within twenty-four hours. During that time, Manny became a dual operative. In recent months, he had lived with and fought beside the Longhorn division operatives, but he also went out on short duties with Drew and Scott.
“This is all your fault, Donovan,” Drew ground out.
Jerked from his thoughts, Brock said, “I made an executive decision to—”
“Save it for someone who gives a damn about your excuses!” Zelmore bellowed, clenching his fists and taking a step forward. “I’ve gone over the details of this case a hundred times. There was no reason for Manny to be in Dallas. He shouldn’t have been in that warehouse. He should’ve been with us in Miami.”
Brock took a deep breath and sucked in the blame. Scott was right. There wasn’t a way or a reason to defend his decision. He fucked up and he knew that much down to his bones. He couldn’t take credit for the Longhorns going to the warehouse, but he had thrown the Miami mission at them at the last minute. Manny could’ve gone to Miami. Instead, he stayed in Texas.
“The fact is, he wasn’t in Miami. He was in Dallas. And now he’s here.”
Drew snarled. “You’ll support your damn assignment orders even when there was a clear mistake somewhere. You’ll stand by them in spite of those who will fall because of them.”
“I’m head of operations, Remington. I lead to the best of my ability.”
“Well maybe you just aren’t cut out for the job,” Drew said.
Scott stood a mere inch away then. He crossed his arms as if he thought Brock would find him intimidating. “Answer something for me, Donovan. Would you admit it if you were wrong?”
Brock sniffed, realizing he’d given away his hand just by responding at all.
“That’s what I thought,” Scott said, obviously taking his gesture the wrong way.
Brock used the opportunity to ask, “How is he?”
“Near dead,” Drew quickly responded. “Is that why you’re here…to pay your last respects?”
“No.” Brock pushed by them. With one hand on the doorknob and his back to his men, he added, “I’m surprised at the two of you. Since when does an Underground Unit operative
give up on their fellow teammates?”
“That’s hard to say, Donovan.” Scott sneered. “It’s a little difficult to have hope when your boss is throwing you to the wolves with the scent of death marking your flesh.”
Brock stilled at Scott’s words before he entered Manny’s hospital room. He tried to leave the insults in the hallway where they belonged, but Scott’s phrase kept coming at him, badgering him with a truth he couldn’t ignore.
He sent his men into an ambush.
Hadn’t he known there was a possibility they would follow up on leads and leave that nightclub he’d told them to watch? Hadn’t he known if his operatives followed that gang from the club, they would be outnumbered after they entered the heart of Dallas? Hadn’t his brother Kevin warned him of the dangers while they’d been collecting Intel on the cartel?
Brock pulled up a chair and sat beside the young operative’s bed, wondering how in the world Manny had ever survived. He dragged his palm down the length of his face. He was in his late twenties and resilient, but he wasn’t a fucking machine!
Finally admitting a few errors in judgment, Brock clenched his fists and listened to the slow beeps from one of the monitors. He’d spread Manny too thin. He’d expected more from him because he was stronger, smarter, and faster than any operative he’d ever worked alongside.
“If you’re sitting there asking yourself how Manny is still alive, you might want to credit his sheer will to live,” Drew said, stepping right inside the room. He glared at Brock as if he’d been the one to execute the crimes against his own teammate. “The doctor says he has little chance of making it, but considering the fact he told Sydney he’d been ‘charred and grilled, sliced and diced,’ I don’t put much stock in the professional opinions around here.”
“He’s in the best private hospital in the world.” Brock would soon find that physician and tell him to choose his words wisely when speaking with his wife.
“Says you.”
Brock glanced at the monitors once more, noticing the tweaking of lines as Manny’s vital signs were continually evaluated. He tore his gaze away from the medical equipment and said, “We need Scott in Texas. How long can you stay here with Manny?”
Cowboy Boots and Uncensored Behavior Page 6