by Amy Gamet
Logan was holding binoculars to his eyes. His heart leaped into his chest. “I see her. Right there, in the big window to the right of the front door. She’s tied to a dining room chair. No sign of Royce.”
“That’s what I call bait. I’ve got ten bucks says we’re in for a bait ’n’ switch by the time we get up there. Come on.”
When the reached the end of the canopied forest, they stopped to regroup. “See that fire escape up the back side of the house?” Cowboy asked. “We go there. Climb up and get access to the roof, so we can get back down through a stairwell, duct, or courtyard.”
“That’s what he’s expecting us to do,” said Logan. “I say we march right up to the front door and let ourselves in.”
“Too dangerous. It’s completely lit up. We’ll be sitting ducks for this guy.”
“He would have covered the roof, Cowboy. It’s the most obvious point of entry.”
Cowboy sighed. “You want to go in the front fucking door.”
“Yes.”
“We need cover.”
Logan looked from the woods to the house. “That’s about twelve hundred yards.”
Cowboy talked into his microphone. “Hawk can you make a kill shot from twelve hundred yards?”
“I’m not a sniper, Cowboy.”
“I can do it,” said Logan.
Cowboy met his stare.
Hawk’s voice came over their earpieces. “Logan’s a better shot than I am.”
Cowboy narrowed his eyes. “Twelve hundred yards.”
“Wind out of the northwest, eight miles an hour. I can make it, Leo.” He held out his hand for the high powered rifle. “I’ve got your six.”
Cowboy put the gun in Logan’s hand and nodded his head once. “Going in the front door.”
“Right.”
Logan turned around, quickly spotting a tree he could climb for some height. By the time he got up there and turned around, Leo was gone. He pulled out his binoculars and night vision goggles, easily spotting the HERO Force men. He got into position, scanning the windows for any sign of Royce.
31
Royce left the room nearly an hour ago, leaving Gemma in front of the window like a mannequin on display.
Don’t fall for it, Logan.
She didn’t know where Royce had gone, but she knew he was using her to lure the HERO Force team to her rescue, and he would do everything in his power to ensure none of them survived.
She bit her lip. Her left arm was completely numb from her shoulder down to her thumb. Her right she could still feel, the nerve endings screaming with pain.
A dog growled from the hallway and her head whipped around. It was a large breed, dark brown, and it was baring it’s teeth. She was terrified of any dog bigger than a Cocker Spaniel, and that was when her hands were free to defend herself.
“Nice doggie,” she whispered. “Good boy.”
The dog barked ferociously, his jaws chomping, and she squealed with fright.
Royce called in the distance, “Just ignore Fluffy. He’s here to greet our guests.”
“Are they here?”
“The helicopter arrived forty minutes ago. I’m surprised they haven’t made their grand entrance yet. Surely they can see the merchandise I have to offer.”
The growling dog got closer and barked again. “Please Royce, get it away from me!”
He didn’t answer.
The slightest noise came from the window and she turned back the other way. There it was again, pelting the glass like hail or loud rain. A small light flashed outside, like someone waking their cell phone.
They’re here.
Her breathing sped up, so afraid was she for the men outside.
Please don’t let me hyperventilate again.
The dog suddenly darted for the window and began to bark consistently. Fear made her want to throw up, but she called the dog to her side as cheerfully as she could muster. “Come here, boy. Come on! What’s your name? Are you hungry?”
“Leave him alone!” Royce yelled.
She stared into the black window, pantomiming that she could hear him yelling. The dog growled at her some more and got right up next to her leg, drool hanging from his chops.
“Good boy,” she whispered, certain he would latch those sharp teeth onto her skin at any moment. But Logan was outside somewhere, and she had to keep Royce from finding out.
The doorbell rang.
The dog went nuts, barking and running toward it.
Royce appeared in the hallway with what looked like a small machine gun. “They never cease to amaze, do they?”
He seemed to be considering what to do next. The doorbell rang again, making the dog bark with renewed fervor.
“Get the door,” said Royce.
“Me? I can’t move.”
“I’ll untie you.” He looked at the tall windows, then turned off the lights and crossed to her. The bell continued to ring as he worked to unfasten her wrists. “Undo your ankles.”
“I can’t feel my arms.”
“You’re not trying to be helpful!”
“I’m sorry…”
He bent down in front of her chair to undo them himself. With the room dark, she could see outside the window to the lawn and the trees beyond it.
HERO Force wouldn’t send all its men to the front door. Someone was hanging back, covering the others. She closed her eyes and prayed. If he had night vision goggles, he might be able to see into the house.
The moment her ankles were free, she threw herself on the floor. The dog ran to her, biting at her clothes and skin, and she screamed.
“Get up!” yelled Royce. He moved to her, trying to pull her to a stand, but she evaded him. He stood. “You’re making this difficult. Get up and the dog will leave you alone.”
A small sound rang out like the glass falling on Logan’s countertop.
Royce fell to the ground, but she couldn’t see him. “Royce?” she called. The dog was quiet now, licking something. And then she smelled the metallic scent of blood.
Forcing her tingling legs to bear weight, she hobbled to the light switch and turned it on. Royce was facedown on the carpet, a dark pool spreading around him, the dog licking it up.
She spun around and yelled as loudly as she could. “Royce is dead! I’m opening the door. It’s Gemma!” She unlocked it and the men swarmed in.
“Good work, Doc,” said Cowboy into his mic. “You got him.” His eyes went to Gemma’s. “She’s fine. Come on down.”
32
Gemma walked along the wooden dock, hugging herself against the chill in the air, a satisfied smile on her face. It was the end of a perfect summer day, a cool breeze coming off the lake and the sun setting in the sky with a showy display of orange and pink.
Logan had brought her here, saying the place belonged to a friend. He grilled her a meal on the wide porch of the log cabin and amused her with stories of his life, from his childhood in rural Pennsylvania to his most recent promotion of sorts with HERO Force.
Now she was full, and it struck her the feeling was as much in her spirit as it was in her stomach. Since learning of her pregnancy she’d opened her heart to the possibility of a relationship with Logan. Surely they would have a relationship of some kind, if only for the child.
And if she wanted more than that, well maybe that would be okay, too. She sighed. She needed to tell him about the baby, but she didn’t want to upset their tenuous harmony.
Footsteps shook the dock beneath her feet and she turned to see him coming toward her.
Damn, he’s hot.
Any woman in the world would feel a little faint if he were advancing on her, and she let herself really feel it in the pit of her stomach like a childhood crush.
He reached her, his stare intense. “You make quite a picture out here, with your blue dress and the lake and the sunset behind you.”
“Thank you.”
“I had a nice day.”
It had been nice. Maybe the nicest
day she could remember. Such a stupid, sappy little word that meant you almost loved it. Or, at least, she had. “Me, too.”
“But there’s something we need to talk about,” he said.
“Uh oh.”
He met her eyes. “I know about the baby.”
The dock beneath her feet seemed to sink deeper into the lake and her face heated. “How?”
“A nurse in the hospital let it slip. I kept waiting for you to say something. Why didn’t you tell me?”
She felt dizzy. Angry. “She had no right to do that.”
“No, but I’m glad someone did.”
She turned away from him. This conversation was happening too quickly and completely out of her control. “You’ve known this whole time.”
“Yes, and I’m happy, Gemma. Are you?”
Was he out of his mind?
“Of course I’m happy. I thought I couldn’t have children and now I’m having a baby.”
“With me.”
“Yes, with you.”
He lifted his chin. “Are you happy about that part?”
She turned back. “I know it’s not fair to you. I’m sorry.”
“Hey.” He put his hands on her upper arms. “I’m not asking if it’s fair, and please don’t apologize for the greatest thing in my life to-date. I’m asking if you’re happy I’m the father of your child.”
“The greatest thing in your life to-date?”
He shrugged. “I’m excited. Aren’t you?”
“Well yes, but I didn’t think you would be.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Why not? I love kids, and I couldn’t pick a better mom.”
“Than me?” She laughed. “I have no idea how to do this. I’ll probably diaper the poor thing’s head.”
“You’re strong and smart. You’ll teach our child to be strong and smart, too.” He touched her cheek. “And she’ll be beautiful.”
He was leaning into her, going in for a kiss, and suddenly Gemma didn’t know what any of it meant. Logan was talking about nice days and fatherhood and a teensy bit about forever and she was confused, like she’d be agreeing to something by kissing him—something she didn’t even understand.
Logan stared at her for a long moment, the sound of water lapping at the dock the only sound in her ears.
“Do you like me?” he asked. “Or am I just the guy you got stuck with?”
“Definitely not stuck. I like you a lot.” She licked her lips. “Since I found out I was pregnant I’ve been trying to change my thinking. To let you in. Just be patient with me while we figure out the details.”
“I can do that.”
He kissed her softly, tenderly, and for the first time she admitted to herself how much she cared for him. Leaning back in his arms, she took in his strong features and the soul-searing look in his eyes.
33
Seven months later
Logan O’Malley was chasing an invisible man.
“C’mon, you motherfucker. Come out where I can see you.” He leaned forward, his face only inches from his screen, fingers punching out commands in a staccato rhythm that was second nature to his brain.
Hundreds of lines of code scrolled down the screen, his eyes scanning the familiar words and variable strings like an interpreter scanning a document in a foreign language. His stomach growled but he ignored it, his foot tapping incessantly on the floor.
He’d been sitting here for hours, following the labyrinth back to it’s beginning, stalking the one person who didn’t want to be found.
Austin rolled his chair over next to Logan’s, peering over his shoulder. “I got me one of them Minecraft accounts. You play Minecraft?”
Logan shushed him. “I’ve almost got this son of a bitch.” His mind was unravelling the invisible man’s method of attack, following the clues that led back to the all-important lines of code capable of undermining an entire company.
The directory. It must be hidden in the file structure itself.
He delved deeper.
“My niece wants me to build shit with her,” said Austin. “Bunkers and battlefields and tanks and crap. When did girls stop playing with Barbie dolls?”
Noah piped up from across the room, where he sat cleaning his gun. “They still play with Barbie dolls, but they kick some ass before they put on their little plastic shoes and let Ken take them out for dinner.”
Austin cocked his head. “I’ll bet you Ken never got laid. He looks like the kind of dude chicks string along for years before giving it away to some musician in a closet backstage.”
“Or a Navy SEAL,” said Noah.
The men laughed.
“Shut up,” said Logan, narrowing his eyes. It was here somewhere. Everything pointed to this directory. He typed a series of commands, his whole screen filling up with code.
“The limiting strand is pointing to a wildcard value,” he said.
Yes!
There it was. The needle in the haystack, the one line of code that didn’t belong. Logan let out a loud whoop. “Gotcha, you stupid son of a bitch.”
He opened a new screen and began typing, his fingers flying across the keys. One small program to set his trap. Another line of code to close it on the invisible man, shut it down, lock him out forever.
Or at least until he came back to life as someone else, found another way in. But that was a problem for another day. “Take that, you motherfucker.” He hit enter and flew backwards on his wheeled chair, watching the next sequence unfold in real time.
USER DELETED appeared on row after row, the screen scrolling until it was filled with them. He raised both arms and hollered in victory. Austin and Noah clapped lamely behind him.
Jax entered the room and leaned on Logan’s desk, crossing his arms over his chest. “All done playing Dungeons and Dragons?”
Logan pointed to the screen. “That was not a game. That was me putting the nails in the coffin of the Yakimoto assignment. Not only did I find their hacker, I traced him back to his server and dismantled his entire line of attack.”
Logan rolled over to a sleek printer and pulled off a sheet of paper. “Gary Fitzsimmons. A computer programmer for AuCen Corp, Yakimoto’s biggest competitor.”
Jax took the paper and shook his head. “Nice work, Doc. We didn’t expect to nail this guy so quickly.”
“I think you ought to buy me lunch.”
“I’ll do one better. I’ve got a bottle of whiskey in the conference room.”
“Can we come too, boss?” asked Austin. “Me and Noah here were instrumental in the computer hacking thing-a-ma-bobber.”
“Yeah,” said Noah. “I held his mouse pad.”
Jax shook his head. “Come on, you boneheads. Relax for a few. We’re going wheels up the day after tomorrow. Got a cult in the mountains of Idaho we’ve got to infiltrate.”
“Idaho’s got mountains?” asked Noah, making Austin snort.
Logan walked around the bend, the glass wall of the conference room coming into view, all the members of HERO Force standing around a cake, the room decorated with pink and blue balloons.
“Ashley thought we should throw you a baby shower,” said Jax. “We figured since it’s the only thing she’s done for us is reproduce, she should have the honors.”
A big, goofy grin took over Logan’s face. “You shouldn’t have, guys.”
A bleached blonde with long curly hair opened her arms wide. “Congratulations! I’m Ashley. I’m so happy for you.”
“Thanks.” He furrowed his brow. “Do you work here?”
She bobbed her head. “I went out on maternity leave a few days after Jax hired me. Bedrest. You guys were all in Kabul or something.”
“Okay. Well, thanks for the party.”
“You’re just going to love being a parent,” she said.
Logan sat down in front of a cake decorated with tiny combat boots, one pink and one blue. The background was pink and blue camouflage. “This is awesome.”
Charlotte threw
her arms around Cowboy’s neck and settled herself on his lap. “Two more weeks, brother boy, and I get to be an aunt.”
“And I’m going to be a father.”
“How’s Gemma doing?”
“Good. Great.”
Crappy.
“She’s just glowing.”
Like a scary Jack-o-lantern who hates me.
“You’re going to make a great dad.” Charlotte leaned forward and hugged him, squishing Logan’s head right next to Cowboy’s.
“Oh, you made it!” Charlotte exclaimed.
Logan turned around to see Gemma standing in the doorway. He crossed to her and hugged her, her belly pressing into his.
“I’m so glad you’re here!” said Ashley.
Gemma leaned into Logan’s chest, whispering in his ear, “Who is that?”
“Apparently she works here. Her name is Ashley.”
“So nice to meet you,” said Ashley, throwing her arms around Gemma.
“Oh, please. Please, get off me.”
Jax walked over and hugged Gemma. “You’re looking good, kid.”
Gemma burst out crying.
Logan’s eyes went wide. Jax patted him on the shoulder. “Any day now, Doc.”
“I’m sorry,” Gemma wailed. “I didn’t want to ruin your party. But I wasn’t feeling well and the doctor had me come in, and my blood pressure’s a little high and they’re going to induce me…”
“When?” asked Charlotte.
“Now. Right now.” She gestured down the hall with her thumb. “They made me come in a wheelchair.”
“Oh my God!” Logan panicked. “Stay here. I’ll get the wheelchair and we’ll go.”
“It’s just next door, Logan. They let me borrow an orderly.”
“No, I’m going to push you. I’m going to push. That’s the least I can do. Are we ready? Should we go? Are we ready?”
Gemma started to cry again.
He grabbed her shoulders. “What’s the matter, honey?”
She sniveled. “I really wanted some cake.”
34
Gemma got up from the rocker and put baby Ian into his crib. He was sound asleep, his mouth open in a perfect cupid’s bow.