They’d been damned lucky.
But the sticking point was one he needed to figure out: with Jewel, a person didn’t get lucky more than once. Even the chances of surviving her toys once were minuscule. He’d survived, what? Three times. Something was off.
As they hit a main road, they picked up speed finally. Gabe had started to report in when the ground under the vehicles shook enough to make them slow again.
“Holy shit.” Marc let out the curse as he braced An-mei’s still-inert body against him.
Dust clouds rose up over the trees in the direction they’d come. The base was going down in a series of explosions.
“Keep driving.” Gabe gave the order. “Let’s get clear in case there’s more to come.”
“Damage is limited to the core facility,” Harte’s voice reported over the comm. “Perimeter damage limited. You should be clear. Status?”
Gabe cleared his throat. “Clear and headed to next checkpoint. One Delta, withdraw and meet us there.”
“Roger that, Diaz. Satellites show enemy pursuit has veered off and your path is clear. Travel safe.” Harte’s acknowledgment was damned cheerful. “Your girl is awake and looking forward to seeing you.”
Was she there? Listening? He couldn’t think of something clever to say. The words he had for her were for her alone, not two crazy squadrons of mercenaries and a boss who’d never stop ragging him for it.
But if she was listening...
To hell with it. If he’d learned anything from her, it was to speak his mind. And his heart. Or he’d keep on regretting his entire life. “We’re coming home, coração.”
“Right here, waiting.” Maylin’s sweet voice came across the comm, low and trembling. “Thank you, all of you. Travel safe.”
Every one of the men and women in his vehicle had shit-eating grins plastered across their faces.
He studied An-mei, propped up now between Victoria and Marc but kept low enough to protect her from possible injury if they came under fire again. A possibility if they had any other delay to their exit. They were likely in the clear, but it was better to be sure. None of them would relax until they were safely back on Centurion Corporation land.
“How is she?” No more broadcasting until the next check point. This was just with his team. He hoped the girl was okay.
“Still out cold.” Marc shrugged and An-mei’s head tipped against his shoulder. “Pretty sure she passed out before we even flipped.”
Actually the best they could hope for. Unconscious and limp, her unresisting body was least likely to have taken damage.
“No visible signs of injury.” Victoria had a hold of the girl’s wrist. “Vital signs are all there. Didn’t find any broken bones once we got her clear back there. No bleeding. I honestly think it’s simple exhaustion, but we’ll know more once we make the next checkpoint and Delta team has a chance to take a more thorough look.”
“They’ve got field diagnostic gear on the copter.” More than An-mei would need the Delta team’s medical expertise. Once they arrived at the checkpoint, Gabe would make the tough decisions to prioritize the injuries. If An-mei was just unconscious, he had other team members in greater need of attention. Broken or bleeding trumped even damsels in distress.
Looking at her, she appeared to be sleeping. Hopefully a good sign.
The family resemblance was clear. An-mei shared Maylin’s delicate bone structure and incredibly fine hair. He’d gotten a good look at the same brilliant green eyes when they’d first found her too. But An-mei was shorter and lighter, somehow more fragile with a paler complexion. He didn’t think it was only from her time in captivity. The younger sister had a sort of waif quality to her. Breakable.
The last person he’d been sent to save had been a physically fit man. Worn down from days of captivity, but so much more able-bodied. Or so Gabe had thought. His mistake. Sound of body didn’t help much if a person wasn’t sound of mind, and the man had been a babbling, panic-ridden mess.
It’d been a struggle for Gabe and his team, getting the guy out of his cell. Ultimately, the man had died and his mission had been a failure. They’d barely gotten out and Gabe hadn’t come through it on his own two feet.
He needed to get An-mei back in one piece for Maylin, and for himself too. Acknowledging it freed up something deep inside him he hadn’t admitted all this time.
Every mission mattered. He cared. Couldn’t not. And it made him human even if he pretended he wasn’t.
* * *
Half an hour after Gabe had told her they were coming home, she was back in the kitchen again.
Maylin ran her fingertips along the cool marble counter. Funny how it had become home to her, more so than her apartment back downtown or the kitchens she used for her work. Before all of this, when her life had been An-mei and the catering company—well, to be honest, mostly her catering company—no kitchen had been home for her because she was always stepping into the commercial-grade places meant to feed hundreds in a single night. None of those places was the central gathering place of a family.
Gabe’s team was a family, though they might not think of it that way. Non-traditional, unconventional, but in so many ways closer in understanding and purpose than a normal family might be.
In the space of a few days, Maylin trusted them more than most of her own family ties.
She reached under the stove for a big stock pot. It was funny how they’d bought an entire cook set without knowing how to use any of the cookware. When she’d commented on it, Lizzy had shrugged and said somebody should figure out how. Or somebody who could cook would eventually find themselves there for recuperation too.
Nabbing several bones from the refrigerator, she tossed them in the stock pot with a drizzle of olive oil. Bones always made the best soup stock. Gave it a heartier quality than just bouillon. Over a medium-high flame, she’d brown them and start adding other ingredients for a nice clear soup. It’d be ready for the team when they got back.
No matter when they returned.
And that was something she had to think hard about. Reaching into the refrigerator, she pulled out carrots and celery, plus a big onion. As she washed them and cut the ends, placing the prepped vegetables on a cutting board, she let her mind run free. What was between Gabe and her was real. Undefined, but tangible. She didn’t want to give it up.
But Harte and Caleb had let her peek into the work Gabe did. She hadn’t been sure her heart could take the fear she’d had for every one of his team, and most especially for Gabe.
When the bomb had flipped his vehicle, she thought everything she loved had died.
Gabe. An-mei. His team...they’d all been in there. And with the exception of her sister, they all did this on a regular basis. They only came to Washington State to recuperate when their jobs hit them so hard they had no choice but to come here to heal. And that was only if they’d been lucky. The alternative was...unthinkable. And permanent.
Methodically, she began dicing the onion. Small, uniform pieces so they would cook at the same rate. Measurable. Everything was predictable in cooking. There was room for creativity and personal taste, but mostly cooking was a logical set of outcomes. Add something and get a quantifiable and predictable result.
Culinary chemistry, really.
In a kitchen, she had control over everything and the freedom to tweak things back and forth to reflect her mood and intentions. It was always constructive. And in her business, her rewards were in direct proportion to the level of effort she’d put into it. Fair.
What Gabe and his team did usually had a cause, as far as she understood it. There was usually a clear understanding that they were doing the right thing. But they went in with a plan and a backup plan, plus several alternatives in case everything went to hell. All they could control was their reaction to the insanity they’d g
one into. And most of the time, things didn’t make sense.
She’d have no way of helping them in the future. No control over when they came back or whether they returned unharmed. She’d only be able to wait like this and maybe have something warm on the stove for them. Something that would keep because there was no knowing exactly when they’d get back.
She added the onions to the stock pot and gave the contents a stir to coat the onions in the olive oil and the drippings from the pork bones. Then she returned to the cutting board to dice the carrots and celery.
Same uniform size. Same comforting measurements. She was a creature of habit. Nothing about the last few days had been anything resembling routine except this. Cooking. And it’d made her happy to cook for Gabe and his team. She’d even gotten a feel for how to cook for each of them individually. Thoughts of dishes they specifically might like. She’d planned to make a special meal for each of them someday soon.
And then the bomb had gone off under her car and she’d understood how someday could be never.
She shook her head. Lifting the cutting board, she brought it to the stock pot and slid the entire load of diced carrots and celery into the pot with the back of her knife. Setting both board and knife aside, she liberally sprinkled salt on the veggies and then gave it all a good stir. It smelled lovely.
After another minute, she used another pot she’d filled at the sink to pour water into her stock. Covering the meat bones and vegetables and filling the stock pot to three quarters of the way full, she figured it’d take only a short while for it all to come up to a boil. Then she’d season and add a few more ingredients to finish the soup.
She’d need something else to keep her hands busy. Bread was out of the question because no one had known to buy yeast and she’d not even thought to get a sourdough starter going. That would have taken a week or so.
Tears welled up and she picked up a ladle to stir the soup even though it didn’t need it. Stupid. Her place was back in Seattle, so why be upset about not having the ingredients she needed to make Gabe nice things? And why think about long-term supplies or things like sourdough starter when she didn’t know what her future with him was going to be? Especially if he got his stupid self killed before they ever figured it out?
She couldn’t make a home here because the entire place was transitory, temporary by nature.
But she wasn’t sure she could go back to the home she had, either.
“You’ll be coming with me now.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Maylin’s heart stopped. No way. Couldn’t be.
“Surprised?” Jewel laughed. The sound was low and almost a cackle. Theatrical.
The thought brought some courage back to Maylin, and she forced herself to continue to stir her soup pot, slow and unhurried. “Why are you still here?”
And how? If Jewel got hold of her for Edict, would they use her to bring An-mei back under their control? Maybe. Or revenge. Either way, it’d hurt An-mei...and Gabe.
“Final bit of insurance. Once I saw the squadrons deploy, I figured security on you would be lighter. My gamble paid off. And since I hear our Gabe was successful, you become even more valuable.” Jewel was continuing her villain act. “I know this base as well as any of the idiots here. I was a Centurion.”
And verb tense meant everything in that statement. Maylin glared at Jewel. “But you’re not anymore.”
Jewel shook her head and made a clicking sound with her tongue. “Doesn’t make me any less good at what I do, darlin’.”
“I think it does.” Maylin stuck her chin up. Refused to let Jewel frighten her out of thinking. She needed to get away, call for help.
“What do you know?” Jewel sneered. “You’ve met a handful of them over the course of a week. I’ve blown up three times as many in half the time.”
True. And what was she? A cook. If it’d been her stepmother speaking, she would have squared her shoulders and listed her accomplishments. She was an entrepreneur. She’d never had to ask her parents for money, and she was independent. But against a woman like Jewel, a woman capable of going head-to-head with Gabe, what was Maylin?
Stubborn. Headstrong. Too determined for your own good. Her stepmother’s words came to her at the worst of times. This was not the time to let the woman’s words get her down.
Besides, they were discussing the Centurions. And she could multi-task.
“They do the right thing even when the money isn’t there.” Deliberately not looking at something had never been so hard. “Greed isn’t a handicap for them.”
“How philosophical,” Jewel crooned. “Even a little Zen-sounding. Or some shit like that. You learn that growing up? Or do you have a crazy family uncle who vomits up pieces of wisdom? Maybe one with blond hair and green eyes. Did you ever wonder where you and your sister got them from? She is a geneticist, isn’t she?”
Maylin didn’t rise to the bait. She gave Jewel a serene smile instead. “My father came from northwestern China. There’s a possibility we’re throwbacks to a lost Roman legion. Or, we could be the result of a random combination of genetic factors plus environmental influences. Eye color is a complicated thing.”
Jewel’s eyes narrowed. “In any case, the Centurions as a whole are fools, Gabe and his team even worse than the rest, and their chivalrous code doesn’t make them heroes. What it does is make them suckers and makes you a fool for believing in them. They’re mercenaries, like me, and people like us have done awful things for no good reason.”
Jewel stepped forward, the grin on her face broadening when Maylin didn’t bolt. “You’re going to come with me as bait for your wayward sister. Let’s get going before the idiots on watch actually manage to pull together a timely response team. If they realize you’re in danger at all. You see, they’re used to bigger threats. A single woman talking to another woman? It’ll take them time to recognize the back of my head as not belonging to any of the Centurions on site. If they recognize me at all.”
Maylin hadn’t even known where the cameras were, only had faith they had to be somewhere. As much as Jewel knew, there wasn’t any hope of a miracle rescue in time to stop her.
Jewel raised her right hand, training a small gun at Maylin.
Don’t look away. Keep your eyes wide open and look for your own solutions. Maylin didn’t think her father had meant his advice for life-threatening situations, but hell if it didn’t apply.
She kept her eyes on the gun, with Jewel behind it, and yanked the ladle out of the now-boiling soup pot, knocking it over. Jewel screamed as scalding liquid splashed across her hand and the gun she was holding, and Maylin scrambled around the kitchen island as the stock pot clattered to the floor between them.
Jewel was cursing behind her, and Maylin sobbed as she bolted for the hallway toward the front door. Maybe she’d knocked the gun from Jewel’s hand. Maybe...
Her feet were yanked out from under her and her head hit the ground as she fell. Stars shot through her skull like a billion piercing needles, and she fought to keep conscious. She was roughly flipped onto her back and a frightening click sounded off right next to her head.
Jewel was kneeling over her, gun held in her left hand as she cradled her right close to her chest. “Little bitch.”
Dead was better than taken. Maylin swallowed hard. It’d be better if the mercenary killed her than use her against people she loved. Like An-mei, or Gabe.
And he didn’t even know she loved him.
But Jewel only held the gun steady and cocked her head sideways. “Gutsy. I’ll give you that. I’ve blown you up, driven you through glass, and now I’m holding a gun to your head. Did it even occur to you to leave Gabe? It’s not a major concern to me, mind you, more a point of curiosity.”
Leave?
Jewel regarded her with a small, patient smile.
>
“He...he’s not staying.” Maylin blurted it out. No idea where Jewel was going with this. The woman was crazy.
“With you?” Jewel cocked an eyebrow.
“Here.” Maylin blinked over and over again, trying to clear her vision past the pounding of her head. “This place is only temporary.”
Jewel had to know that. It was for rest and recovery only.
“Yeah, yeah. I do know.” Jewel sounded exasperated. Maybe Maylin had been babbling out loud. “And what about the two of you? Did either of you talk about anything besides what was directly in front of you?”
Maylin’s throat tightened. “I don’t know. We haven’t figured it out yet.”
“Did it occur to you to take your sister and leave once they all bring her back?”
“Without saying good-bye?” Leave things unfinished? “No. There’s too much. Too many questions.”
“So you were going to just play house here until they came back?” Jewel laughed, a genuine sound of mirth bubbling up from deep inside. The amusement chased away the hard lines and made her look years younger. For a moment, you’d think she was a normal woman. Not capable of shooting people in the back. Not holding a gun on Maylin.
Embarrassment burned Maylin’s cheeks. “It’s what I can do for them. Have something comforting when they get back. I couldn’t go with them, be real help to them. I don’t have the medical training to treat their injuries. This is what I could do.”
And it was something. It was needed.
“You know, I mistook your quiet little demeanor for submissive.” Jewel nudged Maylin’s hip with a booted foot. “You’ve obviously got no combat skills. You played the respect game very well inside the embassy back in DC. Most American Chinese would’ve gone in there and tried to roll over everyone and gotten nothing but passive-aggressive bullshit in return. But you, you walked the fine line and got results. Give a little ground, gain a lot more than they realized, until they were tripping over themselves to help you. More effective than I figured you could be. Takes a lot of patience to be that kind of person.”
Hidden Impact Page 23