The stupid elevator still hadn’t come, and I’d about had my fill of feeling queasy and uncomfortable for one afternoon. With one last dark glare at the elevator doors, I spun around.
“Ryan—” Allison said.
“I’m taking the stairs,” I said at the same time. I hadn’t been aware that she’d been about to speak, but that didn’t change my decision to distance myself. I knew I looked petulant, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to get through the next couple of hours. Then I’d be able to begin thinking about how to reassemble the shattered pieces of our relationship.
Without glancing at either her or Hannah, I hit the panic bar to the stairwell with more force than necessary and left the awkwardness behind me.
Chapter Seventeen
After I’d retrieved my gear bag complete with both vests and a change of clothes from the trunk of my car, I detoured to the bathroom just off the CP so I could change. Sure, I could’ve gone back up to the apartment to do it, but I needed a few minutes to myself before this operation shifted into drive. I allowed the terror I’d been barely containing all afternoon a few precious minutes to run free and unfettered, and then I shoved it back down to the edges of my thoughts where it belonged and resolved that it should stay there.
Once I was geared up and as mentally collected as I could be under the circumstances, I shouldered my duffel bag and headed back upstairs. When I reentered the apartment, everyone was engaged in various phone calls, truncated tactical discussions, and arguments regarding the best course of action. Everyone present who had any stake in taking Walker down debated the pros and cons of different courses of action ad nauseam as they planned this operation down to the very last degree as best they could, considering our abbreviated timetable.
I kept to one corner of the room, determined to stay quiet and out of the way. I didn’t say much during any of the discussions. I didn’t have much to add at that point, except for once, when someone else had the gall to question whether I should even be involved. Then I had a lot to say, most of it expletives. But I like to think I got my point across. It was the last time anyone brought up anything remotely on that topic, at any rate.
Whoever had said that had probably been right. I’d been thinking off and on all day that I really shouldn’t have been there. But no way would I sit by and twiddle my thumbs while this whole thing played out. In the end, I think everyone recognized that and decided it was just easier to include me so they could at least keep an eye on me instead of let me go rogue.
Now that the discussion of my participation had been decided, the majority of the group huddled loosely around a map of Prospect Park taped to a wall and frowned as the discussion continued to rage regarding how many agents we were sending in, the merits of using snipers versus trying to talk Walker down, and whether to use deadly force, among other things.
I was only half paying attention. While I agreed that I had to understand the operational plan in its entirety, I was having trouble concentrating on the debate for more than thirty consecutive seconds at a stretch. Worry for my sister coupled with horrifying speculations on what hell she’d been forced to endure the past few hours had distracted me. So much for my determination to keep my fear confined to the edges of my thoughts.
A loud bang shot me out of my reverie and back into the world at large. It took me a second to realize that someone had slammed their hand down on the table. I blinked and glanced around to see whether I’d be able to determine what the problem was.
“This is ridiculous,” one of the NYPD lieutenants was saying. “This is not how we do business. Somebody’s going to get killed.”
Claudia regarded him calmly for a long moment before formulating a reply. “With all due respect, Lieutenant, this isn’t your operation. If you’re concerned about bearing responsibility for any potential mistakes, rest assured that all fault will lie with me.”
The lieutenant glowered at the map on the wall as he scrubbed at the edge of his jaw with the heel of one hand. “If it were just LEOs going in, I wouldn’t be half as concerned, but I’m simply not comfortable including a civilian in our operational plan.” He cast a pointed glance in Hurricane’s direction as he said that, earning a dark glare in return.
Oh, boy. That wasn’t good. I didn’t necessarily disagree with the lieutenant. I didn’t want Hurricane within a hundred nautical miles of this mess either. But I recognized in her the innate stubbornness that ran deep within me. If he pushed his point, the discussion would turn very ugly very quickly, and the last thing we needed was for an NYPD official to engage in a pointless argument with the president’s daughter. No one would gain anything from it. It’d waste our precious time.
I exchanged a meaningful look with Claudia, and she nodded at me before she turned back to the men she’d been talking to. Her briefing didn’t skip a beat, and for a long moment, I envied her poise. My thoughts and emotions had me feeling like a balloon that had been blown up way too big and then released to fly around the room as it emptied.
Forcing myself to focus, I laid a gentle hand on Hurricane’s arm and leaned close so I could speak softly in her ear. “Miss Carmichael. If you’ll come with me, please.”
Hurricane was still glaring at the lieutenant, and it took her a second to register that I’d spoken to her. She blinked and shifted the full force of that glare toward me. “Excuse me?”
If she’d thought to intimidate me, well, she was about to learn a hard lesson. I’d been glowered at for longer by more volatile people than her. Her ire was hardly a blip on my radar. “I need you to come with me, please, ma’am.”
“Why?” she demanded. “Where are we going?”
I extended my arm, allowing the palm of my hand to direct her. It was a tactic I used often with foreign delegations and heads of state. I wasn’t positive why it worked as well as it did, and I wasn’t about to argue with the phenomenon now.
Hurricane pinned Claudia with one last dirty look before exhaling noisily and stomping out of the room. Claudia spared her back a split-second glance as she disappeared through the doorway I’d indicated, but otherwise she gave no indication that Hurricane’s departure fazed her in the slightest.
Taking a deep breath, I made my way after Hurricane. Nothing in this situation was working out the way I’d wanted it to, but I had no choice other than to make the best of it. Hurricane and I had that in common, I supposed.
I stepped into the next room—which had turned out to be a bedroom, I realized too late—and softly shut the door behind me. Hurricane was standing in front of the window, her arms crossed over her stomach, her body rigid.
“Spare me the lectures, Agent,” Hurricane snapped without turning around. “The last thing I need right now is for you to speak to me like I’m a child.”
“O’Connor,” I supplied, as I unzipped the gigantic black duffel bag I’d brought in with me and began rooting around in it.
“What?” Hurricane did turn at that and eyed me suspiciously.
“That’s my last name. O’Connor. I thought perhaps you were asking. Although you can call me Agent if you’d like. I’ll answer.”
Something about that struck Hurricane as amusing. Her countenance and stance softened, and I saw the barest hint of a smile.
“And what if I wanted to call you by your first name? What would I say then?”
I hesitated, not comfortable with that level of familiarity with one of our protectees, and that did make Hurricane smile. “Ryan.”
“Ryan.” Hurricane rolled the name around in her mouth, as though tasting it and trying to decide whether she liked the flavor. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a female Ryan before.”
“That’s not actually my name, ma’am. Not technically.”
“Ma’am? Really?”
I paused in the process of pulling things out of the bag and depositing them on the floor. “I’m sorry?”
“Do you really have to call me that? It makes me feel old, and I can’t be that much older than yo
u.”
I tried not to chuckle. “Actually, you’re several years younger than I am.”
“You’re kidding.”
I shook my head.
Hurricane’s eyebrows disappeared beneath her hair as she gaped at me. “You look barely old enough to drink.”
“Good genes, I guess.”
“Wow.” She deliberated for another moment. Then, “So, what’s Ryan short for?”
“My middle name. Aeryn.”
She continued to stare at me expectantly as she presumably waited for a further explanation for my nickname. Instead of providing it, I closed my hand around the object I’d been hunting for in my bag and pulled it out. Her eyes blazed a trail down my arm to inspect it as I offered it to her.
“What’s this?”
“It’s a ballistic vest.”
“Whose?”
“What?”
“Whose vest is it? I know how government funding works. I don’t imagine you guys just have spare vests lying around. So whose is this?”
“Mine.”
Hurricane frowned at me and shook her head. “No.”
“This isn’t up for discussion. You wear this or you don’t go.” When she opened her mouth, I held up my free hand. “You can threaten to call your father all you want, but it won’t do any good. Claudia and I’ve already talked about this. She’ll back me up.”
I could see hurt and annoyance eddying in Hurricane’s eyes, and her face crumpled for an instant before hardening again into an angry mask. She shook her head once more. “I won’t wear that and leave you unprotected. It’s out of the question.”
“Who says I’m unprotected?” I adjusted my grip on the vest so I was holding it up by the shoulder straps. “Now, come on. Let’s go. Get your shirt off.”
Suspicion seeped back into Hurricane’s expression. “You’re not wearing a vest.”
I rolled my eyes and dropped one side of the vest I was holding so I could thump the heel of my hand against the hollow of my chest. The thunk of flesh meeting Kevlar was unmistakable. I offered the vest in my hand again. “Come on. I’ll help you put it on, and then I’ll wire you up.”
Hurricane’s face now was a conglomeration of wonder and disbelief. She took a step closer and rested her own hand against my chest. Her eyes grew wide as she tested the strength of the vest I was wearing with her fingertips.
“I can’t believe it. It doesn’t look like you’re wearing anything at all.”
“I know,” I told her. “This is the one I use when I’m on protection. It’s designed that way, for underneath a suit.”
“What’s this other vest, then? Why is it bigger than the one you have on?”
“This is my raid vest. It’s bigger because it provides more coverage. Which is why you’re going to wear it instead of me. This will protect more of your body and internal organs.”
“Won’t this guy notice that I’m wearing it? Won’t it freak him out?”
“It’ll look more suspicious if we send you in there without anything at all. He knows us well enough to realize we’d never let you go in completely defenseless. He’ll probably notice the vest, but it likely won’t interest him one way or the other.”
“Is that a good idea? To tip your hand like that?”
“Despite what he said, despite his insistence that you come alone, I guarantee he’s expecting us to be watching. He’ll be sizing up everyone in the park, trying to determine who’s an agent and who isn’t. If we’re lucky, we’ll be able to slip a couple of people past him. We just want to make sure he doesn’t make everybody we have on set.”
“Do you really think this will work?”
“Honestly, Miss Carmichael? I have no idea. This entire operation will be one crapshoot after the other. I’m relying on my past experiences in dealing with him to gauge his frame of mind. We’ve planned this operation to the best of our ability, down to the smallest detail. The only thing we can do now is follow the plan and pray that we’ve prepared for every contingency. That’s why I need you to wear this vest.”
It was a blatant attempt to drag this discussion back on topic, but I was running out of patience. I was painfully tense, ready to snap at even the slightest provocation. The last thing I needed was to lose focus on the important nuances of the operation.
“I want to wear the little vest. The one you have on.”
I laughed, tickled despite myself by her endless moxie. “Sorry. No can do. If something goes wrong out there, I want you to have your best chance. And that means you wear the vest with the most coverage.”
“What about your best chance?” she asked in an almost inaudible whisper.
I smiled at her, touched by her concern. I’d never met a protectee who hadn’t treated me like I didn’t exist. How sweet. I almost hated to burst her bubble. Almost.
“I’m there to make sure you don’t get hurt. That’s my only function. It’s my job to worry and keep you safe. And it’s your job to let me do my job.”
“I hate this,” Hurricane exclaimed, her outburst surprising me. “I hate that you guys have to do this day in and day out for years at a time. And worse, it doesn’t appear to bother any of you. Like you’ve all been brainwashed into just accepting that your only purpose in life is to be a…a…” She was obviously searching for the word she wanted.
“Bullet catcher?” I suggested. “Meat shield?”
Hurricane’s glare darkened, and she pointed one finger at me. “That’s not funny.”
I sighed. “No, it isn’t. I’m sorry. Look, I tell you what. How about you get dressed, and we can fight about this later, after this is all over. I’ll let you call me by my first name and everything.”
Hurricane shook her head and ripped her shirt off without saying a word. She was now standing in front of me wearing only a bra, which I’m sure wasn’t comfortable for her. It wasn’t for me. Her eyes were fixed on an uninteresting spot on the wall beyond my shoulder, and I tried to look anywhere but directly at her as I undid the Velcro straps that held the vest together.
Carefully, I settled it on her shoulders, adjusting the straps so it molded tight to her body. “Is that okay?” I asked as I worked.
Hurricane nodded. “It’s fine, I guess. I haven’t worn many of these, so I don’t really know how they’re supposed to feel.”
“Take a deep breath. Can you breathe easily?”
Hurricane complied, inhaling long and slow. “Yeah. It’s okay.”
“Take a few more breaths. Do you think you’ll be able to breathe all right if you have to run?”
“I think so.”
“Good. Can you turn around?”
She did as asked, and I pulled a tiny wireless tracking device out of my bag. I took a second to ensure it was on before I tucked it down the back of the vest between her shoulder blades. There was a small pocket I’d made sure was on the inside of her vest, next to her skin. It usually went on the outside and was intended for an armored plate, but we were going to use it for this purpose instead.
Hurricane squirmed as though trying to become accustomed to the feeling of the device against her body. I retrieved her shirt from the floor where she’d flung it and handed it back to her.
“What’s that for?”
“In case something goes wrong and he makes it out of the park with you, we’ll need to be able to track you. Hopefully it’ll take him a while to find it, since on an initial pat-down, he’ll feel only the vest. In a perfect world, we’ll be able to extract you before he even knows you’re wearing it.” I didn’t even want to think of what he’d do if he did find the tracking device. It wouldn’t be pretty.
“I thought you’d be there with me,” Hurricane said, putting her shirt back on.
“The only way he’s leaving with you is if I’m dead,” I assured her.
Hurricane winced. “I really wish you wouldn’t say things like that.”
I shrugged. “Do you want me to lie to you? Or sugarcoat the truth so it sounds like something
easier to swallow? I can, if you’d prefer. I don’t mind painting you a picture that’s all rainbows and unicorns, if you’d like to remain blissfully ignorant.”
“Are you always this much of an asshole?”
“Nah. Sometimes I’m worse.”
Hurricane rolled her eyes at me. “Of course you are.”
“Speaking of which, I need to go over something with you real quick.”
“What?”
I pursed my lips and fiddled with a lock of hair that had escaped my hair tie. “The goal of this operation is to neutralize Walker and rescue Rory. It is not to trade you for her.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But Hurricane averted her gaze, which told me she was lying.
“Sure you don’t. It would never occur to you to offer yourself to him if he promised to let her go.”
“Right.”
I took a step closer and leaned in, in an effort to get her to look at me. She did, but with obvious reluctance. “I know you’ve done some mixed martial-arts training at your mother’s insistence, and you can absolutely take care of yourself, but I need you to understand what could happen if Walker does manage to get his hands on you.”
“He won’t.”
I smiled at her. “You’ve had protection long enough to know that we’re a largely pessimistic bunch. We like to deal in worst-case scenarios. Humor me.”
“Okay.”
“Walker is a big man. Very big. He’s over six foot eight. I don’t even come up to his shoulders, and I don’t think my hands would touch if I tried to put my arms around him, if that gives you any sort of clue.”
Hurricane’s eyes widened, and for the first time, she appeared vaguely uneasy.
“He is also a paranoid schizophrenic who’s likely off his medication and thinks you’re his wife.”
“What?” She was clearly stunned.
“I guess they didn’t give you the rundown on his bio.”
Known Threat Page 17