Rory (In the Company of Snipers Book 6)

by Irish Winters

  She cringed. God, what was Alex thinking to send me out in the field like this?

  Rory’s fingers dug into her bicep as he pulled them both to their feet. “Go. Run!”

  David’s car unlocked without a sound. Ember all but threw Nima to the floor and scrambled in to cover her. Rory slammed the back door and jumped behind the wheel. The second he turned the ignition over the car lurched forward. Tires squealed.

  Ember steadied herself on elbows and knees over the child. Horns honked. The vehicle rocked from side to side, tires squealing again, while Rory drove like a madman from the parking lot. That alone might get some unwanted attention, but they were moving swiftly and surely away from danger. She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to the floor, her fingers in Nima’s hair.

  “How you two doing back there?” he asked after a few more sharp turns, his voice serious but calm.

  “Just loving the new car smell,” she answered as casually as her full-blown anxiety would allow.

  “Crossing the Fourteenth Street Bridge.”

  “Anyone following?” Ember peeked out the rear window.

  “Haven’t seen anyone yet.”

  “Wow.” She let out a big sigh as she straightened.

  Dark blue eyes pierced hers in the rearview mirror. “Yeah. Wow.”

  Pulling Nima off the floor, she snuggled the child beside her and fastened both of their seat belts. “What just happened? I kept having this creepy feeling, and hell, the next minute, shit was raining down on us like—”

  His frown in the mirror cut her off. “Watch your mouth. She’s only four.”

  “Oh. Sorry.” It had been a long time since she’d been so close to dying. “You’re right. I guess it’s just my, umm, my...”

  “Terror?” he offered blandly when she couldn’t come up with a better word.

  “Terror’s a good word,” she mumbled. “Sorry, baby girl. I’ll try not to swear anymore.” But that was the least of the child’s problems. Her only living parent was dead. His smeared blood congealed on her clothing, some splattered on her arms and hands. Even her face.

  “How is she?”

  “She’s, umm, real quiet.” Ember tipped the girl’s chin up to get a better look at her. Overall, Nima was unhurt, not shaking, not even a little bit. “How can you be calm when I’m—”

  She blinked, startled at who stared back. Nima was the daughter of Tibetan exiles; both dark-skinned, dark-haired, and brown-eyed. Not Nima. The palest cornflower blue eyes drank Ember in. Perfect gold flecks ringed the black pupils like the spokes of an open umbrella, pulling her into another dimension of time and space. Nima patted Ember’s cheek as if she were there to offer comfort instead of the other way around.

  “She, umm... Wow, she’s umm....” Ember couldn’t form a coherent thought for her agent in charge. Why didn’t I notice this kid’s eye color before?

  More startling was the wave of serenity washing through Ember. Her erratic breathing calmed. A normal sinus rhythm replaced her adrenaline-stoked heartbeat. The most peaceful sensation blanketed the panic of combat, numbing it into oblivion. She could have sworn she smelled the salty ocean air. Damp sand and seaweed. No hint of adrenaline lingered. No hand tremors. Only safety and quiet. And peace.

  “Well? Is she okay or not?” Rory snapped from the front seat.

  Ember smiled into the child’s serene face. Nothing else mattered but the connection between her and Nima, not even Rory’s wrath. “She’s definitely good.”

  Before he could ask anything else, her cell phone vibrated on her belt holster. She checked the caller ID. “Yes, Alex.”

  “Where the hell are you?” he asked curtly.

  “Just crossed the Fourteenth Street Bridge.” She flipped the phone on speaker. “Coming to you in twenty if traffic holds.”

  “Negative,” Alex ordered. “We’ve got trouble at TEAM headquarters. Murphy and Roy located several pipe bombs outside our building, one in the lobby. FBI called to warn us after they received a bomb threat. They’re under attack. I’m with David at the temple. FBI SWAT is sweeping the immediate area to apprehend the assailants. Do not proceed to Alexandria. Turn around and get Nima Dawa to the safe house up in Maryland. Stay put.”

  “Why? What else is going on?” Rory asked.

  “Something the sonofabitchin’ FBI neglected to inform me.” Alex’s nasty tone filled the car. Everyone on The TEAM knew he detested working with the Federal Bureau of Investigation and with good reason. Too many times their bureaucracy had cost lives. “The ass—”

  Rory cut Alex off before he could hurl another foul word through the air. “Boss. We’ve got a four-year-old in the car with us and—”

  “Of course you do,” Alex shot back. “Where the hell else would she—”

  “And she doesn’t need to learn any new words,” Rory countered as quickly.

  Ember very nearly grinned despite their predicament. Rory had just stood up to Alex, and he’d backed off. Wow. That didn’t happen very often.

  Alex paused. He exhaled one deep breath through the phone before his voice came back more controlled. “Point well taken. That little girl must be protected at all cost. According to the FBI, her safety is of paramount importance to Tibetans throughout the world.”

  Rory shrugged. He seemed to know how to get around Alex. Interesting. “All children are important. What’s really going on?”

  “All we know is we are to keep her hidden and safe, especially now that her father’s been murdered. Mother is investigating.”

  “Tell her to be careful,” Ember added. “She’ll get caught one of these days if she keeps it up.”

  Mother’s real name was Sasha Kennedy, but it should have been more along the lines of Master Hacker, Mistress Mayhem, or something similar. Everyone suspected her investigations included some serious hacking. She’d bent the law plenty in the past. Never confirmed, but always suspected.

  “Call the minute you touch down.” Alex returned to his usual abrupt and ornery self.

  “Will do.” Ember signed off. “Wow.”

  She caught Rory’s spiked brow in the rearview mirror when he turned onto the George Washington Memorial Parkway and headed west along the south bank of the Potomac. The pleasant scenery outside their car windows did nothing to alleviate her nerves or the precariousness of their predicament. Only when she had her hands on Nima did she feel relief.

  Rory carried his stress in his neck, the cords still tight from jaw to collarbone. Even the back view of his broad shoulders seemed harder than usual. He was still on high alert.

  “Are you going to be all right?”

  “Why?” he answered, his eyes on the road behind them.

  “You don’t usually handle overnight assignments, but now, you’re kind of, umm, on one.” Ember didn’t look in the rearview mirror when she answered. He’d know what she meant. Why don’t you handle overnight assignments or overseas ops like everyone else?

  The interior of David’s family sedan chilled. There was the Dennison wall again. Since she’d spotted him in the gym with Tyler, he’d erected quite the barrier between them.

  “I’m fine,” he replied icily. “Don’t worry about me.”

  She turned to the scenery flying by. Rory was by far the handsomest man in the office. Tall and athletic, he had a definite knack for leadership, although he never stepped up to more than the role of humble advisor and obedient agent. From Nebraska, he was probably a farmer’s son. Deeply patriotic and a topnotch marksman, Alex seemed to rely on him from the get-go, but didn’t utilize him for the most difficult operations. Interesting.

  There was a time when Alex intimidated Rory. Alex had an uncanny skill for demonstrating exactly who was alpha dog on The TEAM by ignoring the men who hadn’t proved themselves yet. Being hired was one hurdle; proving yourself another. Yet Rory had gotten closer to the boss than most other agents and in a shorter amount of time.

  One more thing—Ember was sure he didn’t care for her, although he m
ight have at one time. Whereas most agents came to her and Mother for assistance with their computer-related research, he tended to work on his own. About the only thing he needed them for was ordering new equipment or office supplies.

  She hugged Nima tighter, not able to remember when the Dennison walls went up. Was it after he’d gotten shot in Mexico? Had the wall always been there and she’d not noticed because she was immersed in her own problems? She couldn’t pinpoint a precise time, which only validated she didn’t know much about him.

  Mother would have read and shared his complete personnel file by now and asked enough prying questions to fill in the blanks. Since she hadn’t, his file must be as lacking in personal information as the man himself. Was Rory simply a master at hiding in plain sight? Like a good sniper?

  “Have you been to this safe house before?” she asked to get her mind back on task. They’d barely passed the exit for Turkey Run State Park. The bridge over the Potomac to Maryland was coming up fast.

  “Nope. Why? Is that important?”

  “I was just wondering if there will be food once we get there.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll stop for groceries once we cross the river. The turn for I-495’s coming up fast. Why? You hungry, Agent Davis?” The way he asked made it sound like she only cared about feeding her face.

  “No.” She stared back at him. “Just wondering if there’ll be anything Nima likes to eat, Agent Dennison. She’s not an American. She might be used to different foods than us. That’s all.”

  He pulled the dark glasses from his inside jacket pocket and slid them over his nose. Ember sighed. There. He’d done it again. The Dennison walls were up again. She was locked out.

  The rest of the drive went by uneventfully, even the quick stop for a few groceries. When he pulled into the winding driveway of a residential home, she cringed. A simple tract home built in the middle of a stand of pines in Carderock Springs, Maryland? That was Alex’s idea of a safe house? Wow. She’d pictured barred windows and a steel front door with keyless entry, maybe even a retinal scanner for good measure. Instead, the brick home looked plain. Ordinary. Hardly safe at all.

  The shooting back at the temple was still fresh in her mind. A wall around the house would’ve been nice; a moat with alligators better. Nima must have felt safe enough, though. She sagged against Ember in a warm hug, sound asleep from the excitement of the day and the drive. Ember cradled the child in her arms when Rory turned the ignition off and glanced over the front seat.

  “You want me to take her?” he offered quietly.

  “No.” Ember scooted across the seat and opened her door. “I’ve got her.” But when she attempted to get on her feet, she couldn’t get out of David’s family car. Rory came to her rescue, easily scooping Nima into his arms while he pulled Ember to her feet.

  “Thanks,” she said softly. “This baby’s heavier than I expected.”

  “She’s not a baby,” he corrected her. “She’s a little girl.”

  “She looks like a baby to me.”

  Without another word, he ushered Ember up the narrow concrete walk to the back door, his hand firmly at the small of her back. A metal mailbox beside the doorjamb unlatched upward to reveal a keyless entry pad.

  Okay. This house has a security system. I feel a little safer. Rory’s hand doesn’t hurt, either.

  He entered a five-digit code, and together they stepped inside. The double-paned kitchen windows were framed with the telltale strips of aluminum conductive foil.

  Good. That will detect any attempt at forced entry. It will give us advance notice. We’ll be okay. I’m feeling better now.

  When they proceeded to the front room, Rory pressed his fingers to another keypad next to the only closet door in the hallway. Ember relaxed even more. What seemed to be an ordinary hollow-core door was actually a heavy steel door to a more than adequate gun safe complete with extra ammunition of various calibers, holstered sidearms, and a rack of rifles and shotguns. The deceptively lax appearance of the home was just that. Deceptive. Whew.

  “Make yourself familiar with everything in the safe the first chance you get,” he ordered.

  “Yes, sir,” she replied automatically. Her answer elicited a sharp look from him, which forced her to correct herself. “Umm, sure. Will do,” she whispered, not sure how he wanted to be addressed. Some ex-military guys were jerks about rank. Maybe he was, too.

  Rory took three steps into the small living room and laid the sleeping child on the couch. Nima didn’t stir in the slightest when he covered her with the burgundy flowered throw that had draped the couch. He stood over the child for a moment, tenderly tracing the back of his finger along her pudgy, pink cheek. The tenderest expression shifted across his face.

  Wow. One minute cranky, the next gentle. He was a hard guy to figure.

  Ember turned away, not wanting to be caught watching. “I, umm, I’m going to check the place out,” she declared to the hallway so he’d never know she’d observed his private moment.

  When he didn’t answer, she gave herself a quick solo tour. The kitchen emptied into the hallway and from there into the living room. The hall led to two bedrooms facing each other at the far end of the house, a bathroom in between. Windows in both bedrooms were barred and locked from the inside with an easy to release metal latch. There was no window in the bathroom, but the panel over the counter led Ember to suspect there might be an emergency exit through the attic.

  She double-checked the linen closet next to the glassed-in shower. Sure enough, it was not what it appeared to be, either. Another steel door led into a vault, a safe room, complete with an amply stocked pantry, satellite phone, emergency first-aid, and other essentials for surviving a hostile takeover. Her apprehension evaporated. Nima would definitely be safe here.

  She wandered back to the kitchen. Someone had carefully stocked it with all the culinary tools a real cook might need. Good thing I’m not a real cook.

  Rory walked past her on his way out the back door. “Wait here with Nima. I’ll get the groceries.”

  Within a minute, he was back with the two paper bags of whatever he’d bought. Ember left him to his work. He seemed preoccupied, so once more she walked the rooms of the little house. Other security measures were now obvious. Motion sensor floodlights hung from the eaves over each window, and, now that she had time to examine the windows, she was sure the extra thick panes were bulletproof. Sturdy dead bolts secured both front and back doors.

  Besides, she and Rory were well-armed and very capable snipers. She herself carried a Glock 27, and Rory his trusty SIG Sauer P290, a small but deadly .9mm. It didn’t hurt he held The TEAM’s sharpshooter record at the moment. It seemed to bounce back and forth between him and Connor Maher.

  She rolled the last knot of stress out of her neck. Back at the kitchen door, Rory had his back to her and his cell phone to his ear. He stood at the rear window looking out, his voice low and guarded. She didn’t mean to eavesdrop.

  “I’ll let you know when the operation is done, and again, Mrs. Godfrey, I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner. It was supposed to be a one-day assignment.” He stilled as he listened. “Give him a hug for me when he wakes up. Yes, ma’am, I will. Thanks. I’ll be in touch.”

  Ember turned into the front room before Rory noticed her indiscretion. The man perplexed her. Why would anyone feel the need to hide the fact they had a child? Why did he not share that incredibly great side of himself, that he was a father and a good one if the light in Tyler’s eyes was any indication?

  Her reality intruded. Rory was a different kind of man than what she’d grown up with. She took a seat near Nima where she could remain in shadow while she watched her agent in charge busy at the kitchen sink. Even preoccupied with domestic duties like he was, Rory was a study in masculinity. Or maybe it was because of the efficient way he moved, as if the kitchen were familiar territory. As if he’d fixed dinner a million times before.

  The oddest sensation prickled her i
nsides. What was it about a man in the kitchen that turned on every single one of her female receptors? Was it the way he washed his hands thoroughly and dried them on the towel tucked at his waist? Even the way he curled his fingernails in his left hand to meet the blade in his right while he chopped cabbage looked like he knew what he was doing.

  The man was efficient and skilled. That alone spoke volumes. Not once had he hesitated, expecting her to turn all domestic or something equally un-Ember-like just because they needed to eat. That would have been a long wait. He looked at ease in the kitchen. Competent. And he’d bought bean sprouts. Onions. Real food instead of take-out. Wow.

  But he also seemed like a closed book. There had to have been a Mrs. Dennison in his past. Why had no one at the office ever met his significant other? Was she ill? Crazy? Dead? The notion he might have buried a young wife sent a shiver across Ember’s shoulders.

  Or—he might be gay. Her eyes swept over him from head to toe. There was an understated elegance to his kind of handsome, more Pierce Brosnan in a tux than Hugh Jackman as Wolverine; not that Mr. Brosnan was inclined toward his own gender. But still. It was a definite possibility with Rory. He was, after all, pretty darned gorgeous.

  Her tongue slid over her bottom lip. Hmm. Rory in a tux. Killer. Lover. Ready to take on the world. Shaken not stirred. He’s that kind of deadly. Dangerously beautiful. Seductive. Panty-combusting sexy.

  She shook the ridiculous notion out of her head, leaned back into the shadows and let the stress of the day go, her wild imaginations with it.

  Let him keep his secrets. She certainly had hers.

  Three

  Time to eat.

  Rory pulled out a large saucepan and filled it with water. In no time at all, he had rice noodles boiling, vegetables sliced and cabbage chopped for dinner. Tossing a cup full of slivered almonds into a sauté pan, he let them toast while he mixed a simple rice-vinegar dressing.

  Most of the plates and dinnerware had been left in the dishwasher from the last time the safe house was used. Removing just what he intended to use, he set the table and took two plastic bottles of water from the refrigerator. When everything was ready, he went to find Ember. She hadn’t been back to the kitchen since he’d started dinner, but he didn’t expect to find her sitting upright with Nima. Sound asleep.