"I'm pretty damn sure that's not it." Harper's voice was tense, angry. His brother-in-law had always been a hothead.
Jake sighed, shoving the papers aside. "So tell me, then. Tell me what you think is wrong with me. Because I know you're going to do it whether I want you to or not." Jake gestured at his chest like he was urging Harper to take the first punch. "So just go on. Have at me."
It was spooky how easy it was to fall into a sparring match with Chris, how familiar it was dropping into old patterns. The last time he'd seen him had been five years ago, a few days after Hope's death.
Chris eyed him hard. "I think you hated my sorry ass in that future of yours, that's what. And so you still hate me now."
"Chris …"
Harper folded both arms across his chest. "I'm right, aren't I? Were we enemies? Or did you just dislike me on principle?"
Jake shoved back from the table, making for the door. "You don't know jack about the world I came from."
Chris bolted to his feet, instantly between Jake and the exit. "Every time you're around me, you act like I've got the goddamned plague," he said in a low voice. "I know that much."
Jake held up his hands. "No problems between us, man. Nothing wrong at all. Totally copacetic."
"Maybe it isn't about the future, then."
"It's not."
"Maybe you just resent that a human's running this squad?" Chris raked his gaze over Jake, his eyes searching for something.
A part of him knows everything. Senses what happened between us, even if he didn't live it.… "Already told you that joint cooperation was a good idea—I said that in our very first meeting about all of this. Trust me, it took way too long for our species to work together in that other timeline. Interspecies teamwork is our best bet for the future, and you're the man for the job, Harper. I'm not complaining at all."
Chris nodded. "Thank you."
"No problem." Jake made to step around the other man, but Chris blocked him. The human's brown eyebrows lowered intensely, and Jake had a serious feeling he wasn't going to like what came next. "What?" Jake demanded.
"You do realize I interrogate people for a living. That reading body language and tells and all that shit is what I'm trained to do."
"Your point?" Jake's chest began to ache, a gnawing depth of pain from his past choking upward, threatening to steal his breath. Gods, Chris, leave it alone, man. Just leave it be.…
"You're lying about what happened between us in your world. And you're not even doing a good job of it." Chris released a loud, bitter laugh. "So, Tierny, I'm gonna ask it again—what's your problem with me?"
Jake turned and walked to the far side of the room, bracing his hands on the fireplace mantel. "I don't want to do this right now. I really just don't, so if you're smart, human, you'll back off." Jake's eyes slid shut, and he heard voices from a past he'd done his level best to forget.
"You know, it'd be a whole lot easier to work together if you'd let me know the score."
Jake spun back around. "The score? The godsdamned fucking score? I married your sister. I spent the five happiest years of my life married to her, and she died on my watch. That's the score, Harper. Does it make more sense to you now?"
"I already knew all of that."
"But you don't remember any of it—I do. And I remember how you shut me down after that. We'd been close, you get it? You and me." He waved between them significantly. "You were my brother in every sense of the word, and then—"
"And then?"
"It was my fault. All my fault that she was murdered. And things got ugly after that. Way, way ugly, and I still carry all those memories, all that shit around inside this big, dumb skull of mine."
"All right, all right." Harper planted both hands on his hips, staring at the floor between them. "You're angry at me for things I did … I do … in the future."
Jake's fists tightened at his sides as he remembered how Chris had jumped him the day after Hope's death. Chris had been irrational, over the edge—and he'd probably said things he always wished he hadn't. "You were the angry one, my friend."
"What did I do?"
"You blamed me for Hope dying. For Leisa never being born. You told me our friendship was over, done, and that you'd never forgive me … and then you just left. You never even resigned from your post, never told Jared you were done. You just"—Jake made a waving motion with his hand—"vanished, disappeared … and you never came back."
Chris stared at the floor. "That explains it, then."
"Pardon?"
"It explains why you're so pissed off at me all the time. And it sounds like I deserve it."
Jake groaned. "Would you just let this one go? Please, could you just leave it alone?"
Chris didn't say anything at first, and when Jake glanced up he discovered that he had extended his hand.
"What are we shaking on?" Jake stared down in confusion.
"On a fresh start." Chris kept his hand extended. "I mean, it's kinda strange to apologize for something I didn't exactly do, but I want to work with you, Tierny. And I respect you. If I blamed you for Hope's murder …" His voice trailed off; he coughed, then finally continued. "You know how close she and I are," was all he said, then shrugged. "I'm really sorry, man. Sorry for everything that happened to you."
Jake reached slowly for Chris's hand, almost afraid to take it. The whole moment between them was just too messed up to begin with—but this? Chris trying to make up for his future self's grief-induced madness? It was almost more than Jake could handle.
They shook hands briefly, Jake pulling away first. "Thanks, man."
Chris walked toward the table. "Good. Now let's get down to brass tacks on how Friday night's going to unfold."
Jared lengthened his stride, determined to get in a few more laps around the track that circled the top of the hangar deck before his upcoming linkup with the elders. He was dripping with sweat, his body pushed to its limits, but still he had to force himself to go harder. Faster. Longer.
His heart slammed within his chest, but the chilling images from his dreams drove him onward. Something dark was coming, something so dreadful that it was critical for him to be prepared, to have his body honed into a fighting weapon in its own right.
At least Jakob was back, he thought with a quick prayer of relief, which meant one particularly disturbing vision had been averted—although the upcoming undercover operation over in Idaho concerned him greatly. Still, they had no better choice than to use Jakob in the op. Besides, if he could take down the man who'd murdered Hope, it just might help him embrace life here in this time.
Jared had a strong instinct about Shelby, too, and hadn't missed the way she kept her eyes on Jake all through the meeting the other day. He'd seen her in his visions of his friend, seen that she was a critical part of what Jake needed to move on.
His comm vibrated against his wrist, and he punched the button, not breaking stride. "Bennett."
It was Lieutenant Daniels. "Sir, there's a relay call for you down here in the hangar. It's Kelsey's father on the line."
Jared came to an abrupt halt, bending over and planting his hands on both knees. Gasping for air, he answered, "Hold … the … call, Lieutenant. I'll be right down."
He hit the stairs, taking them two at a time, snagging a water bottle from the refreshment table as he trotted past. Gulping it down, he used his T-shirt to mop the sweat from his face. By the time he reached the far side of the hangar, his breathing was at least close to normal. Lieutenant Daniels stood waiting, holding the phone out to him.
"Thanks," he said, pressing the phone to his ear. "Hello, sir."
There was a moment of hesitation on the other end. "This is Jared Bennett?"
"Yes, sir—thanks for calling me. Do you have news about our … matter?"
Again, more hesitation, then, "I think I need to come back out there, Jared. You're right … the situation with the vice president is very disturbing. I have no idea how to proceed."
> Jared nodded, not that his father-in-law could see him. "How long would it take you to get to Warren?"
"I'd have to book the ticket, find the flight … might be really late tonight."
"That's too long." Jared thought, flipping through possibilities. "Where is there an open area near you? Some place discreet."
"Roosevelt Island, but what do you have in mind?"
"I'm going to send one of our stealth crafts for you."
"Whoa, Bennett, there are all sorts of no-fly zones and restrictions around D.C."
Jared laughed softly, realizing how very little Kelsey's father knew about their clandestine war. "Sir, trust me on this: We fly way under the radar. They'll never know we were there."
There was silence on the other end for a beat, and when his father-in-law did speak, his voice was hoarse and pained. "Bennett, I've known the vice president for a long, long time. Years. We've been friends for years. And that friend was not the man who ate lunch with me yesterday."
Well, Chris had to hand it to Jared Bennett: He was as elusive as all get out, seemingly everywhere on base and nowhere at the exact same time. Chris had spent the past hour chasing him from the lodge to the med sector, back over to the athletic complex, and now finally in the hangar. All in hopes of buttonholing the commander for a quick conference.
At the moment, Bennett was supposedly finishing up with his elders in the council room. This fact had been confirmed by the closed chamber door. So Chris marked time outside in the hallway, going over his action plan. Hope had said that if anyone could get through to Tierny, it would be his lifelong best friend. And since arguing with the Antousian soldier had gotten Chris exactly nowhere, it was time to bring in the big guns. Hope had nearly freaked when he'd shared Jake's intention to go the mission alone, her normally soft voice shrill across the cell phone. He was in total agreement with her, and since Tierny wasn't listening to reason or persuasion, Chris had decided to lay the issue at Jared's royal feet.
Chris propped back against the wall, reading over his latest notes on the upcoming rave. They had three more days until Friday night. His most recent debriefing from headquarters revealed that not only were the Antousians trafficking in human bodies so they could use them as hosts—but apparently some kind of sex slavery ring was going on, as well. This was new and totally disturbing information. Just thinking about what those aliens might be doing to the women they kidnapped left him feeling queasy. It also meant it was more critical than ever that their team be configured in exactly the right way.
The door across the hall burst open. Bennett appeared in its frame, a glowering expression on his face. Whatever his elders had just said, he wasn't a happy camper about it. Jared muttered in Refarian, never even noticing Chris as he stormed down the hall.
"Bennett!" he called, trotting to catch up. "Hold up!"
As if seeing him for the first time, the commander halted. "Harper."
Chris cleared his throat. "Look, we need to chat. I need a little help with your boy Tierny."
The dark expression on Jared's face grew even darker. "What's the problem?"
"He's insisting on going in alone on Friday night, and that's just not gonna cut it."
"I agree." Bennett glanced past him, farther down the hall, seeming very distracted.
Gee, could the guy be any terser? Or maybe he just had bigger interplanetary fish to fry. It was tough to gauge. "Is this not a good time?" Chris finally asked after a drawn-out moment of silence.
Bennett swung his gaze back on him. "We do need to talk, Agent Harper, because I received some very disturbing news just a short time ago." Bennett seemed to think a moment, then said, "Let's go up to my quarters. It'll be more private that way. And Kelsey should be part of this meeting, too."
Chapter Fourteen
Kelsey knew trouble was brewing the minute Jared crossed the threshold of their chambers, Chris Harper in tow. Both men wore identical expressions, a mixture of apprehension and fury. Jared's black eyes were narrowed practically to slits, and Chris's mouth was drawn in harsh lines.
"Kelse, we need to talk," Jared announced, dropping his uniform jacket onto the foot of their bed.
Chris stood in the center of the room, glancing subtly about him. The agent had never entered their chambers, and his curiosity was palpable. "Hello … my lady," he greeted her awkwardly, then shoved both hands in his pockets and stared at the floor.
It always surprised her that such a blustering alpha male could occasionally possess such a shy streak.
She smiled. "Like I've told you before, Agent Harper, Kelsey's just fine."
"Chris is, too." He flashed her a grin, the tension in his features easing up just a little. And then he stared at the floor some more.
She could only imagine that the guy found it more than slightly strange that she, a fellow human, was queen of the Refarian people. No wonder he always seemed so totally at a loss around her. She felt the same way sometimes about her newfound role.
"Harper, follow me." Jared indicated the sitting area that adjoined their bedroom, then opened his arms wide to Kelsey. "Come here, sweet love," he murmured against her cheek as he folded her into a strong embrace. Keeping his arm around her, he walked with her into the next room.
"What's going on?" she asked under her breath.
"Heard from your father." He kept his voice low, following Chris toward their study, a small room dominated by a pair of plush leather sofas and a too-small desk.
After waiting for them to be seated, Jared reached for the desk chair, flipped it backwards, and settled his body onto the flimsy frame. His heavy arms draping across the back of it, he focused squarely on Chris. "Tell me about Jake."
Chris began, "To use human vernacular, Commander, he's acting a fool."
For the first time since entering their quarters, Jared cracked a smile. "Oh, now, this I find impossible to believe."
Chris leaned forward, not an easy task on the deep sofa; Kelsey had sunk into the cavernous thing and wasn't going to be wobbling her pregnant way back up without assistance. No wonder Jared had chosen the straight-back chair.
"Seriously, sir—"
Jared cut Chris off. "I was being sarcastic." He laughed, brushing a hand through his long hair. "I've known the man for my whole life, and he's a hothead, a loner, and … the best damned soldier I've ever fought beside. So tell me what Jakob's trying to pull this time."
"He's not agreeable to support on Friday night. Doesn't want to risk the lives of anyone else—or his own deep cover. He believes that having others involved will compromise the integrity of the mission, especially concerning his ability to impersonate the human Jake Tierny."
Jared nodded thoughtfully. "He might well be right."
"From one hothead to another, sir," Chris replied, "I think he's going about this all wrong. And he's not going to listen to me; that's been made perfectly clear."
A frisson of fear shot down Kelsey's spine as she imagined Jake completely alone, facing their enemies. "But he will listen to you, Jared," she said, following Chris's train of thought.
"My point exactly." Chris nodded vigorously. "This might be our one real chance to figure out exactly what they're doing at these raves. I can't risk fu—screwing it up," he said, catching himself with an apologetic glance toward Kelsey, "because of his vendetta."
Kelsey kept her gaze on Jared, curious as to how he'd respond. He nodded thoughtfully. "Well, with what I just heard from Kelsey's father, I agree completely on this one."
"What did you hear?" Chris blurted before Kelsey could even get her own question out.
Jared filled them in on the details of his phone call from Patrick Wells, about his meeting with the vice president, that he was certain that the leader had been "replaced."
"Oh, damn," was all Chris could say, sinking back into the sofa. The words that came to Kelsey's mind were far more choice than that.
"So Dad's on his way here? Today?"
"He'll arrive in approximately four
hours," Jared answered in a grim tone. "He will give us a full debriefing at that time. But he made one thing patently clear—that the man he met with yesterday is not the one he's known for many years."
"And what about Jake?" she asked, thinking about the danger their friend seemed determined to step into.
"He won't go on that operation, not without a full team. I concur with Harper completely."
Jared punched the comm on his forearm, hailing Jake, whose hoarse voice answered within seconds.
"Jakob, come to my quarters, please," he replied crisply. "Right away."
"And who else do you propose should go in on this thing?" Jake stormed, pacing the small sitting room in agitation. "Huh, J? Whose lives are you willing to lay on the line?"
The three of them—Kelsey, Jared, Chris—all stared at him with sickeningly patient expressions—and he felt totally jumped, physically and emotionally cramped in the oppressively small room. "Seriously," he barreled ahead, "tell me who you're willing to nominate for this ugly job. Who you're willing to lose."
Jared stood, facing him, and planted a heavy hand on his shoulder. "Certainly not you, Jakob."
"That's my call, not yours."
"I beg to differ, friend," Jared answered with a calm that only served to irritate Jake even more. "You go with support, or you stay back here on base."
"Meshdki, Jared, you're not being fair."
"It's not my job to be fair—it's my job to watch over my people, including you. Especially you."
Jake glared at his king, muttering low Refarian curses. "So who else do you propose? Tell me that."
On the sofa, Chris cleared his throat, unfolding a piece of paper. "Here's the lineup … you, obviously. Me—"
Jake growled despite himself. "Already covered that idea, Harper, a few hours ago."
"What's your problem with me going in?" Chris asked angrily.
Jake sighed, planting both hands on his hips. "Because if something happened to you on my watch, Hope would never forgive me."
"Funny, but that's exactly what she said to me about you going in alone."
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