“This...is a really slow elevator.”
Gabe smiled at Maylin’s neutral tone. All things considered, she was holding up like a champ. Some women would’ve flipped their shit meeting an ex. And Jewel made confrontations with women a sort of sadistic stress reliever the same way some people walked into bars looking for a brawl. Add in how very good Jewel was at hand to hand combat, the average jealous woman ended up mostly broken and sadly humiliated. He did not want Maylin subjected to similar treatment. Especially since it was obvious Jewel had planned to take custody of Maylin.
Over his dead body.
Which was why he’d brought Maylin with him to Centurion Corporation headquarters. The hotel might not be secure enough, and he wanted eyes on her as much as possible now that Jewel, and Edict, had made a grab for her.
“We got the elevator out of a decommissioned submarine.” Gabe offered Maylin the tidbit of information. She rewarded him with an adorable expression, her delicately arched brows drawing together as she bit her plump lower lip. He could see the gears turning in her head as she tried to come up with reasons why they’d want to do that.
“Do all the buildings in the area have these?” she asked, finally.
Not a bad follow-up. “Other private military contractors might have made similar upgrades to their buildings, like this elevator and installing Thermopane or extra-thick glass.”
“I’m guessing the glass isn’t for energy efficiency.” Her lips twisted into a cute, wry smile. “Does it prevent people from listening in with those laser beam things?”
Or something.
Gabe nodded, though. Surveillance technology, bullets—the thick glass was a deterrent for a lot of things. “Not a bad guess. The elevators are actually safe areas in case the building is caught in the shocks from a nearby explosion. There’s safety mechanisms that clamp to the sides of the shaft, and extra shielding.”
She craned her head to look up at him. “Common concern for people in your line of work?”
“Let’s say we are potential targets and like to be prepared just in case.”
Hypervigilance, or some might say paranoia, but private military contract companies like Centurion Corporation had a tendency to build up defenses against the types of incursions they were hired to do themselves. Call it practice or peace of mind.
“It was an American submarine.” She was staring at the panel of buttons for each floor.
Gabe studied the panel. “Yes.”
Whatever she was seeing, he was missing it. He’d never been in a Chinese sub, but he didn’t think she’d ever been either.
“Well, I can’t be sure, but in normal elevators some floor numbers are skipped. Like thirteen.” Maylin pointed to the buttons for twelve and fourteen.
“Yeah.” Still not sure where she was going.
“In buildings in certain Asian communities, any floor number containing the number four would be missing too.” She pointed to the four button on the panel. “So this wasn’t a Chinese submarine.”
Huh. Learn something new. “The number four an unlucky number?”
She laughed. “A lot of people are superstitious. Pretty sure that’s a cross-cultural thing. In Chinese superstition, the number four sounds like the word for ‘death.’ I don’t consider myself particularly superstitious, but in an exceptionally tall building, going to one of those floors does give me a cold chill. Maybe I’m not quite as Americanized as my stepmother despairs.”
Having knowledge of one’s ethnic roots gave a depth to a person. He envied her. Growing up, his mother’d put most of her effort into making them the All-American family with little to no emphasis on where she or his father’d come from. After his parents died, he’d spent his time in the foster system with only the name Diaz and a mirror to tell him about his background. His identity had been built with his own two hands in the service, then with the Centurions.
After a moment, she shook her head. “Ugh. Speaking of my stepmother, she also thinks I watch too many of those police procedural dramas on television. She might be right, and I hate admitting that, but after watching those, the idea of having one of these elevators in your company building totally makes sense in my brain.”
“You like watching those?” Along with Asian dramas and Japanese cartoons. Funny how unreal those shows were, and yet reality could be even less believable. Then again, if the average public found the things he’d seen in real life entertaining then he’d consider the human race doomed. He’d seen some sorry examples of what people were capable of.
She had her eyes on the floor light indicator, watching the slow progression upward. “Sometimes. There’s usually a marathon of one series or another going on and I like to watch while I’m experimenting with recipes in my free time.”
The elevator finally came to a stop and the doors opened to an atrium of polished dark marble. No insignia marked the floor or walls. As they crossed to a set of glass doors, only a small removable plaque marked the office space as Centurion Corporation. “You messing with ingredients for your business or for home?”
It was fun to watch her in a kitchen. Always in motion, taking charge with a confidence he found irresistible.
The receptionist inside had seen them coming and the magnetic lock disengaged with an audible click. He reached out and pulled open the glass door, motioning for Maylin to precede him.
She answered as she walked by, her tone calm and still conversational. “I look for new recipes to add to my themed menus, but they’re usually made to serve a small dinner party. Scaling up to catering for between fifty to a few hundred isn’t always simple math. There’s practicality in food prep to be considered and approaches to presentation. Plus, deciding whether it can sit out as long as it would need to for a buffet. And every once in a while, kitchen chemistry can be unexpectedly exciting.”
He snorted as they approached the reception desk. “You make it sound like pots explode.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught her shrug. “Not saying they don’t once in a while. There’s also the occasional fireball.”
Huh.
“Hey, Diaz.” The young man at reception looked to be about sixteen. In reality, he was in his midtwenties and had been deployed with the Air Force as an officer once before deciding to move to the private sector. Caleb was doing his training with corporate before coming out to the Seattle branch to train with his new squadron. Officer training in the military had given him polish, the Centurion Corporation would give him seasoning. “We’ve been expecting you. Just need your associate to present a valid photo ID and sign in.”
Maylin gave Caleb a smile as she pulled out her real driver’s license. From over her shoulder, Gabe gave Caleb a warning glance as he caught the kid trying to get a better angle as Maylin leaned forward to sign on the electronic signature pad. Seriously, it was both attractive and infuriating the way she was unconsciously tempting. At least Gabe had confirmation her effect wasn’t exclusively on him.
Caleb snorted as he assembled and handed her a plastic visitor badge with a label affixed to it displaying her name and identifying Gabe as her escort, all business now. “Here you go. Wear this someplace visible at all times. It’s only good for the day. Red hatch marks come up on it after eight hours.”
His ability to do his job and remain unintimidated by the older Centurions without insulting anyone was part of the reason he had a good future with them. He knew his stuff, got along with everyone, accepted each of them with their relatively dangerous quirks. Good man.
Maylin nodded. “Got it.”
“You don’t seem surprised.” Gabe guided her beyond reception and down a hallway past a standard grey cube farm.
She clipped the badge to her shirt. “I’ve done catering for corporate luncheons. Badges are pretty standard. Some of them have an expiration date and some of them have th
is sort of visual thing to show the badge isn’t good anymore. Had these kinds of badges before but wasn’t expecting this level of formality in an organization like yours.”
“We do business with all levels of corporations and government.” Gabe led her to a small conference room at the back corner. The entire wall was glass, so anyone could easily see in, but it had a white noise generator and the exterior window was thermo-glass. Normal in appearance, but a secure place to put her for the time being. “Can you wait here? I’m going to report in and probably bring someone to come talk to you. Caleb will probably stop by in a minute to see if you need water or anything. Restroom is right next door.”
“Okay.” Maylin took a seat. She didn’t appear completely serene, but she wasn’t freaked out either.
Not bad considering he’d only told her they were coming to corporate to regroup and consider next steps. Not nearly as much information as she deserved, but he didn’t want to promise anything until he’d confirmed he had the go-ahead. She was putting a lot of trust in him so he hadn’t wanted to give her empty promises. He turned to leave and paused.
Ah, hell.
She looked up, eyes wide in surprise when he returned to her. He brushed a stray hair from her cheek. “You’re safe here. I want to be sure you know.”
She swallowed, her shoulders relaxing a fraction. “Okay.”
Her run-in with Jewel had hit Maylin harder than she let on. For all that her expressions gave away her surface emotions: confusion, surprise, anger—he really shouldn’t enjoy anger as much as he did—she was incredibly good at hiding her worries and insecurities.
He was going to need to see to it that he took those into consideration. Might have been easier for the other people in her life to just assume she could handle all the things, but he refused to leave her struggling. Recent intimacies notwithstanding, he found himself wanting to see her smile real smiles more often.
It was good for her to be wary of Jewel—there was no doubt which of them would come out on top in a fight. Jewel had the training and experience behind her to best most women and many men in hand to hand. But he needed to do something to reassure Maylin about what was between them, that he and Jewel were done. That might take a while. For the time being, he could address Maylin’s anxieties about what players were in the mix when it came to the kidnapping.
“And we’re going to get help for your sister. Edict complicates things, but it’s not a showstopper.”
“You haven’t told me much about Edict yet except that they’re another merc-...contract group.” Despite her assertion, her words came out in a whisper instead of a challenge. And he couldn’t blame her for thinking of mercenaries when it came to them.
It was a label. Most people had the worst meaning in mind when they thought of mercenaries. But he was what he was and he still made his choices based on what he decided was the right thing. Labels didn’t bother him much.
“There’s not a lot to tell you yet besides that. We’ll get facts here and as soon as I have them, I’ll share them with you. Trust me a little while longer.”
“Only if you promise to make the next long elevator ride more fun.”
She might have meant it as a joke, but desire roared through him, taking him by surprise. The visual of her with her head thrown back as he took her up against the wall of the elevator took over his entire mind for a full minute.
Down, boy.
“Careful what you wish for.” Wrestling as he was with the idea of the multitude of elevators he could take her to, he couldn’t be blamed for how gruff his voice had become. Right?
Desire sparked in her eyes. “Let’s table that for another time.”
Of course she had to mention tables. This conference room was looking tempting too, glass and all.
He watched her, wondering how he could be struck by how beautiful she was multiple times a day. Not as if he ever found her unattractive, but he just never got used to it. She took his breath away. And as he saw her own breath catch under the weight of his gaze, he had a hell of a time wrenching his mental processes back to the mission at hand.
“I’ll be back soon.”
* * *
“You look wound up tighter than a violin string.” The man behind the desk stood immediately and came around to pull Gabe into a quick hug, pounding him once on the back. “You need to go get laid or something.”
“You’ve got a way with words, Harte.” And he wasn’t particularly wrong either. Gabe just had a specific lady in mind and a mission to complete first.
Harte was one of those men who could head into a bar and walk out with his choice of women. He wasn’t pretty, per se. He oozed charm, though, and cleaned up good. He could also carry off the day-old-scruff look and still have women hanging all over him. That said, Harte’s advantage was his brown hair, brown eyes, slightly taller than average height stats. Anyone taking a description of him would get very little in the way of distinctive details to go on if they were trying to track the man down.
People instantly liked and trusted Harte when they met him, then couldn’t quite remember a day later. A very nice talent in their line of work. Besides, Harte actually enjoyed speaking to people. It was why he coordinated what major contracts they took and negotiated the terms, most of the time.
“How’s the missing girl job going?” Harte dropped into one of two armchairs arranged in a conversational grouping with a leather couch to one side of his office.
Gabe sat on the edge of the other, leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees, and threaded his fingers together. “Good news and bad news.”
“Always the way. Gimme the bad news first.”
“We’re going to have to go through Edict to get to the missing girl. And since it’s Edict, they’ve got deep pockets funding them.” Gabe watched Harte closely to gauge his reaction.
Harte didn’t move but his expression darkened. “Professionally speaking, they get things done.”
“True.”
And private military contractors like Edict made the term mercenaries an insult to the rest of them. A big part of the reason Gabe had joined Centurion Corporation after he’d been discharged had been the ethics the Centurions held higher than money. Maybe not as noble as the US military branches, but simple and humble: do the right thing.
“It’s how and what they choose to do.” Harte stood and headed for the small bar setup. “You need anything?”
“Nah.” It wasn’t that Gabe didn’t drink. He just didn’t need one right now.
“Here’s some rocks in a glass so I didn’t feel like an asshole drinking by myself.” Harte returned holding the promised tumbler out. “What the hell is their acronym again? It’s some long ass thing.”
Gabe took the tumbler. “Edict is an acronym?”
Well, shit, he’d have to do some digging. Never occurred to him to look.
“Not officially. One of the boys came up with it one night after a particularly irritating scrape with them. I think we’d need to be shit-faced drunk to remember it.” Harte took a sip of his scotch. “It was funny as hell at the time.”
Not much humor in the current situation, though. “The added bad news is Jewel is working for Edict now and directly involved in this situation.”
Harte stared at Gabe, took another drink, and stared at Gabe again. “Didn’t she shoot you?”
“Yeah. But I got better.” And he didn’t plan to give Jewel the opportunity to do it again.
“She’s not carrying around her AK, is she?”
Gabe shook his head. “Not unless she’s got a creative way to hide it.”
Jewel hadn’t been dressed to seduce when she’d approached Maylin, but the mercenary had still been wearing a sleek power suit emphasizing all things female. Maybe it’d been intended to intimidate Maylin, but as far as Gabe could tel
l Jewel hadn’t phased her. His girl had tread with a healthy dose of wariness once he’d arrived, but only because she’d been sensitive to his tension. When it came to self-confidence, Maylin was very comfortable in her own skin, and it’d take more than Jewel to shake that.
He liked it. A lot. Even if it would be safer if Maylin backed down when it came to confronting Jewel one-on-one.
“I’ll have Caleb update the file on her and run a search on any additional info we might not have from her recent adventures.” Harte leaned back in the chair. “With Edict involved, this is a bigger job than one or two fire teams can take. Especially with your members in recovery, you included.”
It was important for a person to know his own limits. So far, this mission had been well within his. If they had to go head-to-head with Edict in a serious engagement, he might be more of a liability than a leader. He’d cross that bridge when he came to it.
“It’s somewhat more complicated than what I had in mind when I recommended we take on a few smaller domestic jobs before heading back overseas.” Gabe tried to keep neutral. Take his time. Harte was taking his temperature on the situation every bit as much as Gabe was assessing Harte.
“I liked the initial recommendation.” Harte chuckled. “There’s an email sitting in your inbox regarding the idea in general, by the way.”
“That the one with ‘Safeguard Project’ in the subject line?” Gabe struggled to remember. “I’ve got it flagged to read as soon as I catch a minute to spare.”
“No worries. I’d want to see how all of this pans out in any case.” Harte shook his glass. “What do we know about the funding behind Edict currently?”
“Not as much as we need.” Gabe had Marc and Lizzy gathering intel but corporate headquarters might have more immediate information. “So far, the trail leads to a small biotech out in California. Apparently they’ve invited Miss An-mei Cheng to do research for them.”
“Doesn’t sound like the kind of company to have the funds to back Edict. What kind of research?”
“Need more details on that too, but my contact had the impression her research had some creative military applications.”
Hidden Impact Page 13