Rory (In the Company of Snipers Book 6)

by Irish Winters

  “Back on four-ninety-five, headed north. The safe house is blown, as in blown up.”

  “I’m watching what’s left of it now.” Alex’s voice softened. That he had eyes on the house was good thinking. “Half a dozen men in black approached it from the south. They never intended for you and the girls to survive. Damned glad you didn’t stay in the secure rooms. The whole place is a smoking crater. Garage, too.”

  “What’d they use, Boss? LAWs? RPGs?”

  “Don’t think so. Didn’t see a smoke trail. Might have been SEMTEX or C-4. Maybe dynamite. They’ve pulled back now. I can’t see them.” It was a bad day when the boss was rattled. “You guys still have your cell phones?”

  Silently, Rory motioned for Ember to give hers up. “Not for long. We’ll ditch them the first chance we get.”

  “Call me when you do,” Alex ordered.

  “Copy that,” Rory said as he signed off.

  At the next off-ramp, he exited the freeway and pulled into the parking lot of an all-night convenience store. Three vehicles were parked there: an old farm truck with a flatbed trailer full of firewood, a local police cruiser, and a milk delivery truck. He lifted an eyebrow. “Any preference?”

  “Police cruiser. Definitely. They can shoot back if the assassins catch up with them.” Ember relinquished her phone with a sigh. “Darn. Just when I beat Mother’s score on Froggy Pond.”

  “That must be heartbreaking.” The heavy sarcasm in his voice spiked her ire, but he was out the door before she could retaliate. Nonchalantly, he dropped their cells into the cruiser’s open rear window before proceeding into the store. He returned with what she needed most.

  “Two cream. No sugar,” he said as he handed an extra large Styrofoam drink cup through the open passenger window for her and a carton of chocolate milk for Nima.

  “Wow. How’d you know?” She clutched it greedily to her lips. Ah. Coffee—the nectar of the gods.

  He stared at her like she was dumber than dirt.

  “What?” she asked, the coffee cup between her knees while she opened the carton of milk. “Oh. Never mind. I guess it’s the way you’re trained, all that observation and surveillance stuff, huh? And you’ve probably heard me and Mother talking in the office, haven’t you?”

  Wordlessly, he tossed a new burner phone to the seat beside her. It might have been the cheapest on the market, but it was perfect for their needs. After giving Nima a sip of milk, she unsealed hers from the plastic packaging while he did the same. Finally back on the grid but anonymous, he pulled into traffic and headed north while their personal phones went in the opposite direction. She hoped. It would be an awful coincidence if the police cruisers ended up on the freeway behind them with the cell phones they’d just discarded.

  “So what was on your phone? NFL scores? The World series?” she asked, her nerves getting the best of her and her mouth out of control.

  “What do you think?”

  “I don’t know,” she said honestly. She’d never noticed his subtle nuances before. “I’m only trying to make conversation. It’s not like it’s national security or—”

  “Pictures, all right? I had pictures on my phone. Now drop it.”

  “What kind of pictures?” For some reason, her mouth couldn’t shut up. His glance in the rearview couldn’t have stabbed sharper if it had been a razorblade. And just as quickly she understood. Oh. Pictures. Of Tyler. Wow. I really did ask a lot of dumb questions.

  He ended further discussion by thumb-dialing Alex while he drove. “Where do you want us to go now, Boss?”

  “I just got off the phone with Jed McCormack,” Alex replied. “He’s got a summer home near Gettysburg. Take I-270 north, then Highway 15 out of Frederick, Maryland.”

  “You sure you want us in one of his mansions? That’s asking for trouble,” Rory argued. “Why not TEAM headquarters? Are you guys safe yet or not?”

  “Are you telling me you’d rather pass this op to the FBI and let them run with it? Is that what you’re telling me, Junior Agent? Jesus H. Christ, Dennison! They planted bombs in my damned lobby!”

  Ember cringed. Wow. Last name and title all in one breath. And swearing a blue streak. Alex was either pissed or backed into a corner. Probably both tonight. The FBI had to be leaning on him extra hard since they’d screwed up and got Nima’s father killed at the temple.

  Rory didn’t argue. “No. Understood. We can keep her alive a lot longer than they can. You know that as well as I do.”

  “Exactly.” Alex sighed loud and clear, his weariness meter obviously pegged for the day. “They’re climbing all over me as it is, the bastards. Mother’s backtracking the vehicles that approached the safe house to see where they came from, but we’ve only got traffic cams to go by. She’s getting close to figuring out who’s behind this, but we do not have specific details yet. Once you get to Gettysburg, lay low. You’ll be safe there. The code to his front door is 1776. And Rory.”

  “Yes, Boss?”

  “It’s all up to you now. Keep our girls safe.”

  “Will do.” Rory hung up and slipped his new phone into his shirt pocket.

  “He’s such a male chauvinist,” Ember muttered from the back seat.

  He glanced at her through the rearview mirror, his brow raised in that imperious way he had. Like he knew better than she did. Like she’d better jump when he told her to. “Why do you say that?”

  “You know, his little ‘keep our girls safe’ comment. He forgets I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” She rolled her eyes at the archaic thought. “I’ve been doing it for years. Long before I ever came to work for him.”

  “He’s old school. For some stupid reason, us dumb guys think it’s our job to protect our women. Go figure.”

  Our women? Rory made her sound like property.

  “We aren’t all defenseless little girls, you know,” she reminded him.

  “Believe me,” he snapped. “I know.”

  Her coffee slipped from her fingers. Sheesh!

  Five

  “Ember. Wake up.”

  Rory reached over the seat and tapped her knee once with the tip of his index finger. After a couple quiet hours on the road without being followed, he’d pulled off the interstate and into a shopping center. It was early morning, but something had to be open by now. They were in luck. The megastore he’d pulled into carried everything from groceries to sporting goods.

  She arched her back and stretched, blinking her eyes open in surprise. “Dang. Sorry. I did it again. I fell asleep.”

  He forced his eyes to quit scrolling over her body. With every blink of those sleepy greens, his resolve weakened. The way she pushed her chest forward when she yawned didn’t help. Men’s clothing did nothing to disguise the goods that made her noticeable and mouth-wateringly delectable. He wanted nothing more than to climb over the seat and enfold that gorgeous body in his hands and arms, but it wasn’t really her he wanted, was it?

  A face from the past messed with his thinking. The line between Ember and the other woman who’d been part of his life blurred at moments like this. Was it their startling similarities or was he a sucker and falling for—

  Hell, no. He pushed that stupid idea out of his mind for good. He didn’t date coworkers. The day for fun and frivolity was over. Finished. Never to be seen again.

  “You were tired,” he said quietly. “It’s been a tough night. Besides, you’ve got a snuggly little baby doll keeping you extra warm.” He nodded at Nima, her little mouth open and a trail of drool trickling down her chin.

  “Are you okay?” Ember asked cautiously.

  “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “You’re, umm, nice.” She didn’t look at him when she answered.

  He ignored the implication and determined to be a better agent in charge instead of the snarky ass he’d been. “Come on. Let’s go in and get some new duds.”

  “Don’t you think it’s odd Nima sleeps as much as she does?” Ember asked. “I don�
�t have any kids, but it seems funny she’s sleeping so much. Does Tyler do that?”

  Rory hesitated discussing anything related to his son, but it was an innocent question. “Not unless he’s sick, but kids go through different stages. I don’t think she’s sick. It could be jetlag. She and her father flew in from India the night before last. What worries me more is she hasn’t used a restroom since she’s been in our custody. Let’s get her up and moving. That’s kind of important.”

  “Ah, sure,” Ember murmured as she smoothed her hand gently over Nima’s rosy cheek, wiping the drool away with her thumb. “Hey, little one, it’s time to rise and shine.” She blew gently across Nima’s face.

  Rory couldn’t help but smile at the motherly scene, not at all what he’d expected. Ember was gentle with the little girl and concerned about hurting her feelings. It was an entirely different side to the woman who could show up in the office dressed like a zombie one day and Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz the next. Who would have guessed she’d have a knack for children buried beneath the bizarre?

  Nima yawned, her lips scrunched together in a pout. She rubbed her eyes with both fists and blinked up with a dazed smile. “Mama?” she asked drowsily.

  Ember glanced up at Rory. “That’s another thing. She keeps calling me ‘mama.’ You don’t think she’s got a concussion or something?”

  Rory got out of the car and came around to open Ember’s door. Leaning in, he took Nima’s little round skull gently in his hands, feeling for a knot or a bump, anything that would spell trouble. “I should’ve thought of that yesterday. A concussion might explain why she’s been sleeping so much, too. I’m not feeling any bumps, and I don’t see any bruises. How’s she been breathing?”

  “Fine.” Ember shrugged. “She snores a little, but that’s all.”

  He performed a quiet examination of the girl’s neck and shoulders next. When Nima giggled and arched her back, he relaxed. She was ticklish. There was nothing wrong with her that breakfast and clean clothes couldn’t fix. “She’s fine. Let’s go,” he said, not liking that he was out in the open and exposed. A quick scan of the mostly empty parking lot revealed a few early morning shoppers, but the need to get inside and out of sight prevailed.

  “I’m sorry,” Ember said softly to the child on her lap, “but we’ve got to go shopping with Uncle Rory.”

  “Uncle Rory?” That caught him by surprise.

  “Well, for goodness sake, you can’t be Auntie Rory, now can you?” Ember still had a lot of sleep in her eyes, but mischief tugged the corners of her full lips. He forced his eyes to look at something else. Like the pavement. The blue sky. Anything else.

  “Unless this is one of those don’t ask, don’t tell situations you don’t want to talk about,” she teased.

  “What? Who? Me?” How did that stupid notion get into her ditsy blonde head? “I’m not gay. No way,” he declared. Instinctively, his gut sucked in, his chin stuck out and every muscle in his body flexed to prove his masculinity like the big dumb jock he usually was not.

  She giggled, her face full of the golden morning light. “I’m not judging. Sheesh, Rory. Climb down. Lots of guys are coming out of the closet these days. Lots of girls, too. It’s no big deal.”

  “I’m. Not. Gay,” he repeated extra clearly.

  “Honest. I don’t mind.” She wouldn’t let it go. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone about this, either.”

  “Move,” he growled. There was no sense arguing. Let her think he was bi-sexual for all he cared. “Do you want me to carry her?”

  “I’ve got her.” Ember had no trouble getting out of the car this time. She had Nima balanced on her hip with the sleepy little girl’s arms wrapped tightly around her neck. “Us girls have to stick together.”

  Nima didn’t smile or answer, her too serious eyes taking in the sights of early morning shoppers in a land far different than her homeland of India.

  Rory walked alertly beside Ember, his hand on her shoulder to add authenticity in case anyone cared. He doubted it. There were very few shoppers out and about, but the innocent gesture unleashed a familiar feeling he couldn’t place. For sure he’d never shopped with a woman and little girl like this before, much less a woman as tall as Ember. Heck, he was six-three. She had to be pushing five-ten. The pleasant feeling of a happy family persisted.

  He sized her up out of the corner of his eye. Her honey-blonde hair bounced when she walked, each layer fluffy and alive in the hardly noticeable early morning breeze. When she tipped her head to nuzzle the top of Nima’s head, his hand moved automatically to the back of her neck just to feel how soft her hair was. He was right. Soft and silky. She shivered and scrunched her shoulders, but he didn’t remove his hand. Not only did it make them look like a real couple, it felt—right.

  One word kept bubbling to the surface. Elegant. Beneath her oftentimes eclectic appearance, Ember was an elegant woman. He just hadn’t seen this side of her in a long time. It was a nice change.

  By the time they were inside, Nima was wriggling on Ember’s hip. “That little one is trying to tell you something,” he whispered.

  “Oh, yeah? What do you want to tell me? Go on. You can tell me anything.” She was nose to nose with Nima and still didn’t get it. Nima wiggled faster in obvious discomfort.

  “For heaven’s sake, she needs a restroom. Hurry.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Her astonishment made him smile. He pointed sternly toward the restrooms at the front of the store. “Let’s not have an accident this early in the day.”

  She balked at the entrance to the women’s room. “You can’t go in there with us. Gay or not, you’ll scare the ladies if there’s anyone in here.”

  “I’m not gay, darn it,” he growled. With his hand more firmly at the small of her back, he ushered them through the door and up to the extra-large stall with the diaper changing shelf inside. “Be sure to use a sanitizer seat cover.”

  “Man, you’re bossy.”

  He arched his brows impatiently. “Keep it up and you’ll be sorry.”

  She rushed into the stall and closed the door. Shortly, the appropriate sounds of a healthy young lady and the toilet flushing filled the empty restroom. Ember’s indulgent mother hen sounds were interesting, too. She was so gentle with the child. At last she opened the stall and handed Nima to him. “Here. My turn. Please make sure she washes her hands.”

  “Come on, little one.” Rory took Nima with a smile. “Do you want to play in some suds?” He balanced her between the sink counter and his body, squirted soap on his hands and hers. Soon she was splashing and clapping in the water. He didn’t notice Ember at his side until she bumped him with her hip.

  “We’re covert agents, for Pete’s sake. Have some dignity.”

  Nima squealed and clapped when she caught sight of Ember in the mirror. “Mama!”

  “See?” Ember asked. “There she goes again.”

  “Maybe you look like her mother,” he offered, but there was no way that could be it. Nima’s mother was not blonde, tall, or sexy. It didn’t make sense, but it didn’t matter, either. “Let’s get this done,” he said to hurry things along.

  Ember clapped her hands and Nima reached for her, snuggling into her shoulder. “My Mama,” she murmured, her nose in Ember’s neck.

  That happy family sensation shivered across his shoulders again. He ignored it, determined to stick to the standard operating procedure of two covert agents on duty. Grabbing a handful of paper towels off the dispenser, he shook the image off. He had a job to do. That was all. Ember and me? Never.

  It was a good plan until his knuckles accidentally brushed Ember’s breast when he reached for Nima’s hands. An arc of feminine energy leapt from her body to his, shocking the living hell out of his dormant male receptors. Every last masculine nerve stood up and took notice. All of them. Even—that one.

  He tossed the paper towel into the trash and shivered like a damned high school kid with a testosterone spike an
d acne. Shit. It was time to get to work and get out of the women’s restroom. A little distance from Ember wouldn’t hurt, either.

  They set a quick path through the department store. Since the men’s department was closest, he shopped, quickly selecting a pair of denim jeans and a gray flannel shirt, a package of socks and men’s boxers. Ember was as quick to choose black denim jeans with a black hoody, a package of socks and a few intimates in the women’s department. But when it came to the little girl’s department, she lost control.

  “Oh, my gosh,” she exclaimed, holding up a matching purple toddler set of top and pants while Nima yawned from the child seat of the shopping cart. “Little girls have the most amazing outfits. Look at these.”

  “Let’s move,” he urged. It had been less than thirty minutes, but they couldn’t take chances. He jerked his head toward the cash registers at the front of the store. “We’re supposed to be keeping a low profile, remember?”

  Her head ducked into her shoulders. “Sorry. I got carried away. You’re right.”

  While he loaded the cashier’s counter with their purchases, she snagged a pre-packaged bag of bagels, two bottles of iced-coffee, and a small carton of orange juice from the refrigerator case at the check stand. “We’ll need a quick breakfast,” she explained.

  “Is there anything else? A kitchen sink, maybe?”

  “Yes, but I can wait,” she replied haughtily.

  “Well, halleluiah.”

  After a quick stop at a nearby service station to refuel, he turned David’s trusty vehicle onto the interstate once more. Ember still sat in the backseat, singing some insane little ditty to Nima, who munched quietly on a blueberry bagel. There was that family feeling again. Rory ignored the pinch in his heart. He missed Tyler.

  Nima burped an extra healthy burp. Ember’s brows arched at the very adult sound, her mouth open in surprise. Rory caught it all in the rearview mirror. For the first time since the operation began, he laughed. Ember grinned back at him. The miles flew by.

  By the time they arrived at Jed McCormack’s Pennsylvania home, Ember had checked in with the office and Alex knew where they were. For once, her word of choice was spot on.