Gabe (In the Company of Snipers Book 8)

by Winters, Irish

  He bit his lip, half-wishing he hadn’t blurted that last thought out loud, but glad he did. Shelby’s world had changed whether she liked it or not, and he wanted to be part of it. He needed her to see him as more than just Kelsey’s annoying bodyguard.

  The corners of her mouth lifted into a small smile. Pink colored her cheeks.

  He leaned slowly down. Her chin tilted up to meet his. Their lips met hesitantly. He would’ve settled for a chaste peck if that were all she wanted. It wasn’t. Shelby wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him into her body. The quick peck evolved into a breathtaking, needy explosion of passion he hadn’t seen coming.

  He lifted her onto his lap while she raked needy fingers through his hair, her tongue urgently asking for more. Deftly, he slid a hand beneath her shirt, needing to feel her warmth. Her willingness. Her fire.

  The instant he touched skin, the need to have her naked beneath him engulfed his common sense. One touch wasn’t enough, and he’d been so damned hungry for too long. His blood boiled, his body on fire and every muscle taut with need. He wanted her. All of her. Now.

  Her fingers on his cheeks offered encouragement. He pressed her backward to the seat, wishing this were another time. Another place. Their breaths mingled until they breathed the same air.

  The gentle arch of her body into his encouraged him, but Gabe knew better than to treat a lady like this. He wouldn’t demean her by taking her in the back seat of a cab. Hell, no. He was a better man than that, and she an infinitely better woman.

  There would come a time.

  And it would be damned soon.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “I still want to talk to her,” Mark insisted. He had Ember on the line. Judging by the edge to her voice, she was more than a little overwhelmed since Mother quit without saying a word, much less goodbye to her girlfriend.

  Up until Alex’s death, Mother was the nosey, but usually calm, information technologist who supplied everyone with lightning-speed computer research and over-the-top admin support. Her workstation was command central, her fingers in everybody’s business maybe, but also on the pulse of all operations. So why had she quit?

  He pinched the bridge of his nose, fully aware that he sucked at management. The TEAM needed someone stronger at the helm. Someone meaner. Like Alex.

  “Good luck with that. I’ve been trying to reach her since she left, but she won’t pick up. She took a lot of stuff with her, too. Her office laptop’s gone.”

  “Do you know why she quit?”

  “I don’t. Sorry. She’s been acting weird lately.”

  “Like how?”

  “Secretively, kind of like she didn’t want anyone to overhear her telephone conversations. Wait. My other phone’s ringing.”

  Still at Kelsey’s, Mark waited on the front steps while Ember took the other call. He’d already boarded up the front windows while the police gathered evidence and posted the crime scene. As soon as they left, he’d lock the place and take off. Hopefully, Zack would call with an update on the dogs. God, Mark hoped they’d still be alive.

  The fire department had handled the hazardous waste from extinguishing Shelby’s car before they’d rolled out of the neighborhood. Only scorched pavement remained.

  Just as the last of the police officers waved on their way to their cruiser, Ember returned to the line. “Hey, guess what? Dispatch from one of the local cab companies just called with a message from Gabe. He’s on his way in. Sullivan’s with him. When are you coming back?”

  Mark allowed a sigh of relief now that Gabe was accounted for. “On my way, but listen. Kelsey’s dogs were poisoned last night, maybe early this morning. I think we caught it in time, least I sure as hell hope so. Zack’s handling it. Kelsey, too. Do me a favor and rally The TEAM. We need to strategize.”

  Ember whined. “Whisper and Smoke? Oh, no! Poor Kelsey. Sure, Boss. I mean, Mark. I’ll tell everyone to wait for you to arrive. You got one more second?”

  Damn. Now what?

  “Whatever you told Maverick must’ve worked. He came to my desk and sat down and talked to me. He just needed help with a server error, but he’s never given me the time of day until now. I think he’s coming around.”

  “Thanks. At least he didn’t quit, huh?”

  “Aw, Mark. We’re not quitting on you. You’re stuck with us.” Ember had to be smiling. He could hear it in her voice. “Hurry back. A cup of coffee’s waiting for you.”

  He did hurry back, after sweeping the mess and securing the Stewarts’ bullet-sprayed home. He’d no more than stepped up to Ember’s counter and taken a good long pull on that promised cup of coffee when the elevator chimed. Out marched the agents he’d assigned to track down Becker.

  They didn’t look happy. Especially Izza. Steven and Taylor strolled out of the elevator behind her, but she looked ready for a fight, her fists clenched at her side, her chin tucked into her neck and her brows furrowed, like a ledge she needed to keep between her and the first person who crossed her path.

  Mark truly enjoyed working with Connor’s spitfire wife, but for now, he kept any hint of a smile off his face until he knew why she radiated death. When pushed to her limit, Izza’s knee-jerk reaction was always to come up fighting, something she’d learned growing up with an alcoholic father. The last thing she needed was for anyone within reach to not take her seriously.

  “What the hell’s wrong with you, Houston?” She slapped her gloves to the counter, her normally brown eyes shiny black and full of sparks. “You’re supposed to have our backs when you send us out on an op.”

  “We do. What’s wrong?” he asked, opting for calm instead of confrontation.

  She pursed her lips. Not a good sign. “What’s wrong is I’ve been flat on my face with my wrists tied to my ankles for a couple hours now. I want to know why you guys didn’t follow through. Why didn’t you check on us when we didn’t call in? Hell. You should’ve come looking!”

  “I did. The minute I left Kelsey’s last night, I called Mother to tell you to stand down.” Mark snapped his mouth shut. Mother’s words came back to him. Don’t worry. They’re safe. How would she have known, or did she? Was she in collusion with Becker and Fallon, too? “Who’d you talk to the last time you checked in?”

  “Mother. Every hour on the hour, like we’re supposed to do when we’re on an op.”

  “So Mother didn’t tell you that Gabe intercepted Becker last night? That you guys were supposed to come in?”

  “No, she didn’t mention that, did she, Steven?”

  He shook his head. “No, sir, and we’ve been on stakeout all night. When I called her last night, she said to sit tight. A relief team was on its way.”

  Words Mark wouldn’t allow to slip past his lips filled his head. Mother. The bitch. She’d actively compromised this operation and his team. No wonder Izza was fired up.

  Connor sat quietly watching from the safety of the Sit Room, a lopsided smirk on his face at his wife’s very loud attitude. Smart man. They were quite the pair, a blonde, blue-eyed and very laid back Irishman married to a kickboxing, passionate, and volatile Latino woman with a giant chip on her shoulder.

  “Mother doesn’t work here anymore,” Mark stated for the record. “Be mad at me, Izza. You’re right. I should’ve come looking for you the minute she walked out on us this morning. I’m sorry you had to go through that. Are you okay?”

  “Am now.” Izza wiped her nose with the back of her hand, the way a prizefighter in the middle of a brawl might. “What do you mean she doesn’t work here anymore?”

  Mark let his suspicions out of the bag. “I think she’s working with Becker and Fallon. She deliberately lied to you and me. You guys should’ve been sleeping in your own beds last night. She knew damned well what was going on when she fed you that bogus intel.”

  “Mother?” Izza about choked. “Our Mother? Sasha Kennedy? That Mother?” She shook her head, her ponytail flipping from side to side. “No way. She wouldn’t help Becker
kill Alex. She’s been to our house, Mark.”

  Connor didn’t seem as surprised as Izza. He’d stretched one long leg under the conference room table, his chin cupped in one fist. “That explains why we couldn’t get her to help us. After Steven exposed Becker, she got all sorts of goosey. Like she didn’t want to talk to us anymore.”

  “Like she had something to hide,” Rory piped up.

  Mark blew out a rattled sigh. He should’ve talked to her when he’d first noticed her attitude. Mother. His first failure as a boss. Damn. “Let me worry about her. We need to strategize. Do you need a drink or something before we get started? Coffee? Something to eat?”

  Izza still needed someone to fight, but he wasn’t going to be that person. Let it be Mother, Becker, or better yet—Alex.

  “I just want the sucker who knocked me out, you know what I mean?” That was another perk to working with Izza. Her West Coast accent developed a definite Hispanic pitch when angry, turning her words into a lethal promise with south-of-the-border flair. “I’ll show him. I want a piece of Mother now, too.”

  “Come on. Sit Room. Let’s get started.”

  She finally stalked into the room and sat beside Connor, but not before she delivered a good smack to his left bicep. “Quit laughing at me,” she growled even as he draped an arm across her shoulders and planted a kiss to the side of her face. “You never even called.”

  “How could I?” He winked over her ornery shoulder at Mark. “You were working. We don’t do personal calls on the job, remember?”

  “You didn’t even miss me.”

  He pulled her close for a quick peck on her ornery lips. “Izza, I always miss you.”

  That seemed to do the trick. Mark let everyone get settled before he dropped his bombshell. “Kelsey woke up to a red rose on her pillow this morning.”

  He watched that news settle before he continued. Either he was the dumbest supervisor on the planet, or just tired to death of fighting his team. “From this point on, we operate on the assumption Alex is alive and involved in what looks like a terrorist plot. I honestly don’t know which side he’s on. Again, assume he’s working with us.” God, I hope.

  Izza’s gaze darkened while Connor winked again. Rory gave Mark the thumbs up sign, and David nodded appreciatively. Only the newest agent appeared shocked.

  “Who’s in the coffin then?” Lisa asked, her eyes wide. “I mean, umm, we were all at his funeral. Who’d we bury if it wasn’t him?”

  “I don’t know, and right now, I don’t care,” Mark answered. “We have something more serious on our plates. David? Is there something you’d like to share?”

  “Only that I’m completely at your disposal, Boss.” David’s quiet eyes said a lot more, but the way he’d used that title hit a bull’s eye.

  Mark inhaled a deep cleansing breath and finally looked his team in the eye. Alex might have built it, but it wasn’t his anymore. Mark settled in to finally lead them where they seemed determined to go.

  Landon chimed in with a cocky, “A flower, huh? Clever old dog. She buy it?”

  Maverick huffed, but before he could get a nasty word in, Mark pulled rank. “Can it, Truman. I’ve had enough from you.” He left the comment hang and let Landon stew, the smart ass.

  “This is what I know, team. Somehow, Alex got into his place last night and left Kelsey a rose. Gabe also believes there’s some pretty convincing blood evidence on the clothes he wore when he gave ALEX first aid at the scene. It might not be Alex’s blood. Rory might be correct with his paintball theory after all. Ember? Do you know someone who can run a thorough forensic examination of those clothes so we can determine if it’s Alex’s blood or not?”

  “You betcha,” she said with a smile.

  Mark tossed Gabe’s apartment key to Connor. “Soon as we’re done here, go get Gabe’s dirty clothes. Bag them and bring them in for Ember. The sooner the better.”

  Connor snagged the key midair. “Will do.”

  “Okay then. David’s got some news on a little FBI project called Eagle Two.”

  David came to the head of the table. Immediately, the picture of Ron Fallon and Sam Becker at the Chaos Now rally flashed onscreen. “We’ve linked FBI sniper Sam Becker to a local subversive group known as Chaos Now operating in Alexandria. It appears they intend to initiate a revolution.”

  The next slide displayed the Chaos Now timeline. “As you can see, these terrorists have no definite dates, but with the increase in their activity, we must assume it will occur soon. It appears their first target is Vice President Winston.”

  “Why don’t we go to the FBI with all this crap?” Landon piped up. “Why are we always doing their job for them?”

  Mark met the challenge head on. “Are you serious? Were you not there the day we pegged their top sniper, Agent Sam Becker, as the assassin who killed your boss?”

  Landon shrugged. “But he isn’t really dead now, is he?”

  Maverick cut Landon off. “Just tell us what you want us to do.”

  Mark chose to act on Maverick’s loyalty and let Landon’s smirky insubordination go. “We’re up against at least one pretty tough black ops guy. Maybe two. Becker and Fallon.”

  Steven interrupted. “Before you continue, look at this. One of these was stuck to each of our foreheads while we were tied up.”

  Mark accepted the yellow sticky note Steven offered. A smiling face had been scribbled in the middle of the small square of yellow paper.

  “That guy’s a jerk,” Izza muttered. “He made us look stupid.”

  “I have to ask.” A smile tugged the corners of Rory’s mouth. “How’d the three of you get overpowered by one guy?”

  Taylor grunted. “Gee. Thanks for asking.”

  “So?” Rory persisted, his eyes full of amusement as he scrolled his gaze from Taylor to Steven and Izza.

  Taylor ran a hand through his hair. “It’s like this. He seemed to know precisely where we’d be laying for him. Before we knew it, he was behind us. Steven was out cold, the guy had his boot on my neck and Izza in a choke hold.”

  “Shut up, Taylor,” Izza ordered. “You make it sound like we were sleeping on the job, and we weren’t. Least, not ’til he got hold of us.”

  Taylor chuckled. “There I was, gasping for air, and this guy’s turning Izza into a ragdoll. You guys should’ve seen her. It wasn’t funny then, but if that guy really was Alex, it’s a whole different story. Man, he got us good.”

  “I’m gonna kick his ass.” Izza faced Connor, her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed. “You just wait.”

  “And I know you will,” Connor answered obediently, like any good husband would.

  “But he was dressed in black again? Like the last time?” Mark asked, a creepy sensation tiptoeing up his spine.

  “Yes, sir, he was,” Steven replied, “and another thing. Yes, he tied us up, but he left enough slack that we were comfortable, not hogtied like gangsters would’ve done.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Izza said. “I’ve got rope burns.”

  Mark listened to his team. It had to have been Alex, but the smiley face? That was definitely not a typical Alex Stewart memento. Mark set the sticky note aside.

  “Listen guys, let’s focus on Chaos Now. We’re not going to waste time worrying about Alex, but Becker and Fallon—”

  “So if these guys are part of Chaos Now,” Maverick interrupted, tapping his pen on the table in front of him, “maybe we need to look at their recent activities a little closer. Like what purchases have they made lately? Who are they talking to? Where do they eat? Shop? Bank?”

  “And do they own any storage sheds or garages where they could hide fertilizer or gasoline?” All heads swiveled to Lisa Channing’s direction. She gulped at the unexpected attention. “I mean, umm, these guys might be planning something like the Oklahoma bombing, couldn’t they? Shouldn’t we look for stuff like that?”

  Mark watched her self-confidence plummet. She dropped her gaze, blinking rapidly. She g
ulped. Poor kid. This was the first time she’d spoken up during a team meeting. For an ex-Army grunt, she’d arrived with zero confidence, and he had yet to learn why. He needn’t have worried.

  “Good thinking, Channing,” Izza exclaimed. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  Lisa nodded at Izza. “It makes sense.”

  “It does. We should also be looking at large, out of the ordinary purchases of nitro methane,” Rory interjected. “Plain gasoline for that matter. Let’s see if anyone’s been stockpiling fuel. Maybe one of these jokers knows how to fly. Do we know that?”

  “No, but I can find out,” Ember replied.

  “Anyone got a black market confidential informant?” Maverick asked.

  Mark breathed a ‘no kidding’ sigh of relief. The TEAM’s synergy had flashed back to life. He caught David’s nod of approval while everyone else pinged ideas off each other for the next several minutes. All except Landon. He’d pushed back into his seat like a spectator at a tennis match. Just watching.

  When the meeting finished, every other agent went to their workstations with a self-appointed list of things to track down, verify, and investigate.

  It hit Mark. It would be damned hard giving his team back to the man who’d created it.

  He didn’t make it back to his desk as he’d planned. Steven had located Sam Becker again. The brazen FBI agent was back at the warehouse near the Gangplank Marina, exactly where they’d located him the day before. Mark stood over Steven’s desk as he followed the traffic cam footage that revealed the same black sedan parked alongside the marina.

  “Are you sure it’s the same car?”

  “No way to know for sure until we’re boots on the ground, but look at this.” Steven zoomed in on the grill of the car when it turned the corner to the warehouse. A black cover lowered to conceal the front license plate. “Have you ever seen anything like that?”