by Bella Grant
The files told him everything he needed to know… Almost. There wasn’t much information about Naomi, except that he was going to have to take extra care in watching her. If she were attacked, she would struggle to defend herself because she walked with a cane. No details were revealed about the handicap, nor had he learned anything about her past to connect the dots. He just hoped he didn’t get pulled out of his only time off to watch some old woman in a crumbling house.
As he turned around to wait by the front door, he realized how dark his house was and how empty it seemed. He never bothered to turn lights on anymore because he was alone. The last woman who lived with him left after a year, just when he was ready to propose to her. She told him it was too hard being with a man who was always running towards danger. There one day, gone the next. He grimaced, remembering how she seemed happier than she’d ever been with him.
When he reached the front door and peered at the street, watching for the SUV coming to pick him up, his thoughts flashed back to the conversation he’d shared with Reinhart before he’d left. He asked Beau if he’d been getting any more threatening messages, and, of course, Beau had lied, telling him he hadn’t. Though he didn’t consider it lying if he left out the one taped to his front door last night. They’d been coming for the past year, each warning him that he was in danger, that they were after him, and that he was going to die. Neither Reinhart nor he could track who’d sent them, though, and the lack of knowledge unnerved him. He hoped it was someone’s idea of a sick joke because he didn’t have time to deal with anything like that right now.
The rain was nothing more than a drizzle when Beau left his house and walked to the black SUV waiting for him out front. It would take him to the base where he would board a plane and leave Monterey. He zipped his jacket before he climbed into the SUV, already missing the view of the mountains as he headed out on his next mission.
CHAPTER TWO
The phone rang just as the clock struck the hour of seven a.m. The man expecting the call smiled with pleasure. He answered, ignoring the static coming from the storm dying down outside.
“They’re sending special ops to the safe house. He’s being held in southern Europe as far as we can tell right now,” a man said quietly on the other line.
“Do you know what country?” Silence met his question, and the man’s lips curled in disgust. “You better find out soon… And they sent her in, right?”
“Yes, she left yesterday. I’ll try to track her, but it’s not going to be easy—”
“You’ll do it or die like the others. Is that clear?”
He heard a hesitant sigh, then, “Yes, I’ll check in as soon as I find out anything.” A click told him the caller had hung up.
He sat back in the seat of his car and motioned for the driver to continue on to the abandoned warehouse, his new base until they could find a safer, better situation. He wanted his revenge, and he was going to get it. Failing was not an option.
CHAPTER THREE
Eddie Sage moved around her office, sorting through photos—newly acquired that morning—of her new mission, Beau Savage. He would be arriving soon enough, and she needed to be sure everything was set up accordingly. The cell in her back pocket rang, and she answered quickly.
“Sage here.”
“Sage. Plane will be touching down soon,” Reinhart said on the other end. “He has been given his orders and understands his duties, so see to it the civilian he is supposed to be protecting acts like a civilian.”
Eddie frowned, pushing her tongue behind her lip. “Of course, sir, that won’t be a problem.”
“Listen, Sage, I know this usually isn’t your thing, but you have to make him believe you’re Naomi. No guns on you unless you can hide them, and no ordering him around.”
“I know the drill, sir. He won’t know who I really am.”
“Good, because if he does, we won’t be able to hide how much danger he’s really in.”
Eddie nodded. The threats against Beau were put aside as nothing until recently when video recordings of a man, his face covered and voice altered, arrived with the threats, giving intimate details of Beau’s life, his routine, and his recent missions. Each new threat showed images of Beau from only days prior. The man was in danger and he knew it, but the last thing the Navy wanted was for Savage going off the rails. He would try to track this man down on his own and end up getting himself killed.
That was Eddie’s job, along with her team. The civilian protection was a necessary cover-story to get him safely out of the country.
“And Sage, we’re raising the alert on this mission.”
Eddie set down the files in her hands. “Sir?”
“His house was blown up this morning,” Reinhart grumbled.
That was not what Eddie expected to hear. “Sir, maybe we should change our game plan here.”
“We talked about this, and no, he can’t know.”
From the beginning of this entire plan, she wanted to bring Savage in on it, but Reinhart had shut her down at every turn. “Sir, the man’s house was just blown up. I think he has a right to know.”
“I am only going to say this once, Sage. Beau does not know what is happening here, not until we have more to go on. Is that clear?”
She bit her lip to prevent her words from escaping and straightened. “Yes, sir, it is.”
“I expect updates around the clock.” She assured Reinhart he would get them and hung up, fuming over this mess.
Beau’s house was gone. Whoever wanted him dead was no longer playing around, and Eddie ground her teeth. This mission would be her most difficult to date. She’d read the man’s file, and he was not one to sit on the sidelines. He was one of their best, and tricking him for an extended period was going to be a pain in her ass. Wondering how best to approach this man, and running over the last few details of her cover story, she limped across her office—filled with her real computer gear and files—to check the security feeds one last time.
Her damn knee was acting up again, but she ignored it. There were more important things to deal with than an old wound. She radioed the gate, letting them know about Savage’s impending arrival, and left her office. Usually, she would have been on desk duty after her injury, but she was one of their best and they didn’t just put their best at a desk if they could help it. She took a few deep breaths, repeating her name over and over, and prayed this hard-ass wouldn’t give her any more grief than was already piled up against her.
***
The plane landed around three in the afternoon, and Beau was immediately escorted from the runway to another SUV, driven to the front gates of the base, and led out onto a main road. According to Reinhart, he was supposed to meet another agent currently guarding the woman at the house. He would take Beau there and explain the little details to him. One of the main reasons Beau had been called in was because the current agent was having trouble following leads while guarding her at the same time. With Beau there, someone would always be at the house—someone who would allow no one to get past.
Shouldering his bag, he left the base behind and walked down the street aways until he spotted something out of the ordinary. There, in the middle of all the Fiats, was an orange Jeep Wrangler with a man leaning against it. The man nodded to Beau, who walked in that direction, keeping an eye open to his surroundings. The man held out a hand as Beau approached.
“You must be Beau Pierce. I’m Shane, the current handyman. I can’t say how much I’m going to appreciate the extra help at the house,” he said, using the cover story in case someone happened to be listening.
Reinhart had given Beau Shane’s file, which looked almost exactly like his—mission after mission with no breaks between. He wondered how the man handled the stress as they drove off in the Jeep, weaving in and out of traffic until the city was far behind.
The scenery was breathtaking, despite Beau’s disgruntled mood. Fields of wild flowers stretched out on either side
of the dirt road as they rumbled along. Flocks of sheep dotted the far-away hills, and the road stretched out in front of them for miles and miles. The landscape was interrupted by an old stone house every now and then, but it only added to the magnificence of the setting. It reminded him of home, and his face darkened. Home was where he should be.
The road began to climb as they approached the rolling hills and vineyards. “Naomi’s house is just around this next ridge, set up on a hill,” Shane told him, pointing up the road. “Clear vantage points for miles.”
They slowed to go around a turn, and the house came into view, three stories of ancient stonework surrounded by a stone wall with an iron gate.
“Welcome to hell.”
Beau glanced at him, his brows pulled together, but saved his questions until they got through the front gate. Shane parked the Jeep as two men walked out of the house, asking Shane and Beau for their IDs, verifying they were supposed to be there even though Shane had been present all week. After a few moments of waiting, the IDs were returned, and they were allowed to drive up to the house. The front appeared magnificently put-together, and the porch was a wrap-around with archways every few feet. The solid wooden doors were open to the afternoon breeze blowing straight through the house.
Beau whistled, grabbed his bag from the Jeep, and set it down on the porch. “So why, exactly, would you call this hell?”
Shane laughed. “Have you ever tried setting up a safe house this big? The windows are only the first problem. Come on, I’ll show you the bitch around back.”
Beau followed, wondering what this ‘bitch’ was until he saw the garden. The description was right—it was the size of a damn football field and filled wall-to-wall with shrubs, flowers, trees, and even a little babbling brook running alongside one of the paths. He counted quickly as they walked to the back porch. There were five different paths, and once someone was on one, you could only watch them for a few feet before they disappeared behind a wall of bamboo or a trellis of honeysuckle.
“Fun, right?”
Beau shook his head, planning hours of work ahead of him to ensure this place was as secure as he could make it. “What have you got set up so far? Lots of area to cover back here.”
“There are four men stationed along the back wall, two inside and two outside. On every path, we have motion sensors about every ten feet, and cameras set up at every turn. There’s also one set up on the roof for a full aerial view of the garden.”
They really don’t want anyone getting near this woman. What the hell does she know?
Beau ran a hand through his hair, wondering how much work he’d have inside the house. “What security is there inside?”
Shane nodded toward the back door, and they walked inside as he spoke. “The two men at the gate, of course, and two more stationed at the back doors. They’re helping fix some cameras out back, the only reason you didn’t see them.”
Beau followed Shane through the French doors and into the kitchen, which boasted granite countertops, state-of-the-art appliances, and a stonework floor. He noticed a large bar was set up along with a long wooden table before they passed into the next room. This one was constructed with a vaulted ceiling that allowed the second floor to have a sort of balcony from the grand staircase that started near the front door. The furniture looked new and the couch extremely comfortable, painfully reminding Beau of the lack of sleep from last night.
“There’s motion sensors on every single window, door, and any other possible entry.”
“How many rooms?”
Shane smirked. “Surprisingly, not as many as you would think, but there are sensors on all of them. Her room is next to yours on the third floor, so you’ll be able to get to her quickly if anything should happen.” Beau’s duffel had been moved to the stairs, and he picked it up as they climbed. “On the second floor are the library, office, and two store rooms.”
“Why’s her room on the third floor if she has to walk with a cane? Aren’t the stairs a bit difficult for her to climb?” The question was harsher than he intended, but if Shane noticed, he didn’t comment.
“They are, but she’s a stubborn woman and refused to move her room. Besides, her window has the best view, as does yours.” They reached the top of the stairs and started down a hallway with four doors, all of them closed but one. When they passed that room, Beau glanced in and stopped to actually look. Every inch of wall space was covered with pictures, postcards, letters, stamps, and more. He couldn’t believe someone could take so many pictures of different people and places he hadn’t even been to yet.
Shane walked back to see why Beau stopped and smiled at the amazed look on his face. “This would be her office, and most of those photos were taken by her. Come on then. Need to get you settled before she comes in and scolds us for being late to lunch.”
“So she cooks?” Beau asked as Shane pointed out his room on the third floor.
“Quite well. One of the many reasons the men enjoy guarding her so much.”
“One? What are the others— does she make a hell of a martini, too?” he asked with a sharp laugh as he dumped his duffel on the bed. Keep it together. You just got here. The last thing you need is this man hating you for being a jackass.
“You’ll see. So what do you think of your new home?”
Shane walked over to the window and glanced out, checking on the backyard as Beau took in the room. At one end, a fireplace was situated across from the king-sized bed, and there was a rather cozy sitting area by the fire. The room looked as if it was stuck in the past, when the house was first built.
Beau joined Shane by the window and nodded his head in agreement with what Shane mentioned earlier—the best view anyone could ask for. He could not only see every twist and turn of the paths in the garden below, but well past the walls into the rolling hills of the countryside. It was definitely perfect for him in terms of security. He glanced back at his duffel but decided, as his stomach growled, that he would wait until after lunch to do any setting-up of his own equipment.
As they tramped back downstairs, he asked Shane who Naomi was, considering the file revealed nothing except for her job, name, and why she was being targeted. He hinted very carefully at the fact that she walked with a cane and hoped he wouldn’t have to play babysitter for an old woman. Listening to an old woman drone on and on was not something he looked forward to.
Shane threw his head back and laughed at the questions but refused to tell Beau anything too helpful. “Naomi is not your ordinary woman, I can tell you that. She’s been to almost every continent and too many countries to mention and is probably the proudest person you will ever meet in your life.” He sighed as they hit the bottom of the stairs and smiled even wider. “She’s absolutely great.”
“What is the other reason the men like being here so much?”
Shane patted Beau on the shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll figure that out in a few moments.” He sniffed the air as they neared the kitchen, rubbing his stomach. “Smells like lunch is almost ready. Need any help, Naomi?” Shane called into the kitchen, leaving Beau standing by the table to watch. He hadn’t realized she was right there when he’d been asking all those questions. He wondered how much she’d heard.
He walked past the table and saw the fridge was open, and beneath it, he could see a pair of bare feet, the tip of a cane, and black Capri pants. The voice that answered Shane’s question was definitely not what he expected, and his curiosity about this woman heightened.
“Why, thank you, dear, couldn’t quite reach it up there. Have to stop placing things out of my own reach.”
Shane came around, placing a large bowl of fresh salad on the counter as the woman closed the fridge, and Beau saw her for the first time. He wished he could take back all the accusations he’d made earlier. The woman standing before him was in her mid-twenties, with shiny black hair down to her shoulders and the greenest eyes he’d ever seen. When she looked at him, though, th
ey weren’t warm, but cold and hard. He’d seen that look before in other soldiers, but never a civilian. Her tanned skin was even more attractive with the white tank she wore, along with toned and muscled arms that must take work to keep in shape. When she walked over to greet him, she favored her right leg, using the cane to support her left.
“I hope I’m not that old for you, Navy. Think I can pretty much handle myself—well, except the whole taking out whoever is trying to kill me. I’ll leave that part up to you,” she said with a smirk and held out a hand to him, speaking with a heavy English accent. Her smile was bright as she watched Beau move to the opposite side of the counter. “And you would be?”
Beau shook himself out of his daze and took her hand, shaking it lightly. “Beau Savage, Pierce for other purposes.”
“Of course… undercover,” she mumbled so he could barely hear her.
Releasing his hand, she returned to pulling food out of the oven and setting it up on the counters, buffet-style, so the other men could come in and easily get their fill before having to go back out. Naomi hummed as she chopped fresh vegetables, setting them on a platter and bending over to get something out of a cabinet. This must be the other reason the men didn’t mind being here. The curves on her body were hypnotizing, and he struggled not to stare.
Beau admitted she was rather good-looking. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of her since he stepped into the kitchen, which caused some parts of his anatomy to suddenly wake up and take notice. She possessed an actual shape—unlike the other women who thought skinny meant looking like a board—with a small waist and full hips which he felt an urge to hold tightly against his body. He almost missed what Shane was saying to him as he continued to watch her, her hips swaying to whatever song she was humming.