UNSHAKABLE (Able Series Book 4)

by Aceves, Gigi

  “The meeting has been moved up. Instead of two days, he wants to meet tomorrow morning, bright and fucking early.”

  “Do you think we’re getting set up? We don’t even know what this guy looks like. I’m calling this in,” Lucas exclaims.

  “We’re going in blind to be honest with you. Either something spooked him to move it up, or he’s trying to throw us off.”

  He walks toward the door then looks at me. “Get some rest. I don’t want this fucker to pull a fast one on you. I’ll call Dan and let him know what’s up.”

  I nod as he walks out. As the darkness and quiet surround me yet again, I open my heart to the One who knows every inch of me aside from my wife. I show Him my fears, my aches, and my pains. I lay it all out there, including my dreams and hopes, wishes and needs, hoping at least one would be given me. As I do, a sense of lightness in my heart covers my being. Before I know it, my alarm blares mercilessly.

  Monday, yes, today is Monday. It’s the second day of being away from Sophia.

  Exactly thirty minutes before this mystery source shows up, I’m ready to get things started. Lucas and I check and re-check everything before I settle on the chair facing the window, running my hand over my leg to check that the tactical knife is fastened securely.

  One knock signals the beginning of the end for whoever is behind all this, but the face that greets me literally almost kills me.

  “Damien. . . .”

  Aches—my heart aches in sheer shock seeing the person standing before me, but just as quickly I’m completely engulfed with the silence of the room and the eerie respite of the moment.

  Pains—I don’t feel a thing, but I sure as shit want someone else to feel it.

  DAMIEN

  “WHAT THE FUCK!” LUCAS YELLS through the earpiece.

  As my eyes bore into the ones looking back at me, I imagine the fastest way I could snap someone’s neck. A different kind of anger and revulsion work their way through my veins knowing the person standing before me has caused problems for my wife and her dad.

  “Damien?”

  I hear my name again and this time I snap into action. I pull her inside the room and slam her body against the wall. Pure hatred pumps in my veins as my eyes bulge while hers plead for fucking leniency.

  Leniency? God, help me because I’m about to let the crazy loose right here and kill her where she stands.

  “Relax, Damien. Deep breaths. We need info, man. Get a hold of yourself,” Lucas breathes through the haze.

  “You have five fucking minutes to spill your guts or I’ll fucking do it for you.” A voice full of menace comes out of me.

  I push off her, needing space as she moves to sit down on the bed away from the window.

  “Uh . . . um . . . I’m . . . I’m having an affair with Senator Harrison. It started about two and a half years ago. I tried to end it, but couldn’t because I love him.” She starts sobbing, her body shaking but I couldn’t care less. “He promised me he’d leave his wife, so I stayed. I found out I was pregnant two months before you and I first met. I aborted the baby because he wanted me to and threatened to leave if I didn’t.” Her sobbing intensifies. “I used you to make him jealous, perhaps force his hand to make a decision, but again he convinced me to wait, and I did. Once I became the Press Secretary, he showered me with gifts, made even bigger promises, and all that pacified me even more.”

  “What does all of that have to do with Sophia?”

  She cowers hearing my voice. In a normal situation it wouldn’t be me causing that physical reaction, but hell this bitch has been a thorn on my side, more so my wife’s since day one.

  “When . . . when the President took me under his wing, I embraced it with open arms. My father walked out on my mom a few years after I was born. I’ve grown up not having a father figure, so . . .” She momentarily stops, maybe to settle herself. But again, I don’t care.

  “Five minutes, Nicole. Don’t stop now.”

  “So I relished in it. He motivated and encouraged me. When I witnessed his relationship with Sophia, I got jealous. Perhaps it’s a normal reaction, maybe not.” She shrugs her shoulders as she wipes her brows. “But my jealousy of her didn’t stem from you. It’s because of the disparity between her and me that exacerbated it. The need to have what she has consumed me. Harrison noticed and used it against me.”

  “Who leaked the pictures? You?”

  “Harrison called me one day while I was in the residence, um . . . somewhere in the hallway. He was asking me when I was going to release our picture. We went back and forth for about . . . I don’t know, maybe five or ten minutes. When I turned around, Bryanna was there. She heard everything. In a panic I hung up and acted as though nothing was amiss. A day later, I get a call from her . . .”

  She shakes her head as if she’s clearing her mind. “Anyway, a day later Bryanna called and asked if we could meet. I was afraid she’d already told Sophia, so I agreed. But she blackmailed me instead.” She stands and starts pacing. “She said she’d go to the President and tell him everything. You may not believe me, but I never wanted to hurt President Andrews! He helped me. For fear of losing his trust, I conceded to do whatever Bryanna wanted. So, I gave her our picture and audio. She was the one who released them to the press without linking herself or me to it.”

  “So, where did she get the pictures of Sophia and me?”

  Nicole sits down again, wringing her fingers. “You know sometimes Darcee and Bryanna spend the night at the White House. She took them then. They don’t sleep in Sophia’s room but in the guest rooms. I’m sure she found a way. It’s not that hard to sneak up on you guys.”

  “So she’s working with Harrison?”

  “Yes. Her dad is best friends with Harrison’s adopted brother, Ivan. Both of them came from the Ukraine and both of them lived in the same orphanage until they were adopted by American couples. Harrison offered Alexzander money to save his restaurant and in exchange, Bryanna needs to do his dirty work. Harrison knows I wouldn’t cross President Andrews, no matter how much I envy his daughter.”

  “So, that night at the comedy club was a set up?”

  She nods. “Yes. Bryanna paid someone to drop a copy of the audio to the owner of the club. After the release of our picture, everyone wanted to milk it for all it was worth. The timing of everything was made to look like me causing all of this. I hated it! Bryanna was the one who told Harrison to use me. I knew then I had to save myself. I just didn’t know how to do it. I was banking on maybe the President giving me the benefit of the doubt, and when he did that was when I decided to give you all the copies of the emails.”

  “Why would Bryanna do this? I know she wants to help her dad but . . . my God, she’s known Sophia since high school!”

  Nicole shakes her head this time. “You already know their family’s business is going under. She wasn’t given much choice in the matter! Either listen to her dad or lose everything they have. She knew her dad was going to protect her. I’m their escape goat.”

  “You gave me copies of emails, pictures, and receipts that took us a while to fucking decipher! Why would you give me pictures of us and not evidence that could actually help?”

  “I needed to buy myself some time. Every year at this time I go to Ohio to visit my mom’s grave. I timed it this way so Harrison wouldn’t suspect. I gave you that one picture of us in the café to maybe give you a hint of what we talked about that day. What was my demeanor, Damien?”

  For a second I close my eyes trying to remember that time. What I saw and what happened.

  “You were nervous. But I thought it was because you were afraid I would be mad at you. You wanted us to give it another shot, but you. . . . Fuck!” As the stark reality hits me, I’m floored I failed to recognize the signs. “You told me everything is not what it seems. I thought you were insinuating my relationship with Sophia. What she feels toward me! Then you also said to watch you . . . your every move. Shit!” I start pacing instead of staring
at her. “I thought you were making a pass at me. Why didn’t you just tell me? You could have written it on a damn napkin for all I care!”

  “I couldn’t tell you out right then because I was in too deep with Harrison. I didn’t know what to do or how to go about it. I was afraid once everything got out that President Andrews wouldn’t forgive me, much less give me the time of day to explain myself. Then I’d lose my job, what I worked so hard for. Besides, with Bryanna in Sophia’s ears and Sophia already hating me, who do you think the President would believe? His own daughter or me?”

  “You decide now to double cross Harrison? Don’t you think it’s a little too late?”

  She starts crying and inches toward the window. “Harrison wasn’t convinced that the pictures, abortion, or audio tapes were enough to bring President Andrews down. I couldn’t sit there and listen to them plan on . . . God! Damien, I never thought it would lead to this, not at all! In the beginning it was just to get him to leave his wife and help him win the Presidency. You have to believe me. I thought it was just some smear campaign bullshit against Steven and Sophia, but it morphed into something else . . . something more dangerous.”

  “How’d you manage to get copies of the emails? Who was emailing whom?” My mind tries to quickly put two and two together to come up with a plan to end all this.

  “The last time we met at Alexzander’s restaurant, Harrison brought his laptop then left the room to talk to his brother. I’ve known for some time that there’s no way out other than to save myself, so I always have a USB with me. I quickly opened his emails to find something, anything that I could use against him. I saw something about Golden Boy, and that’s what he calls the President. So, I copied all the emails pertaining to Golden Boy and transferred them to the USB. Bryanna, Harrison, and Alexzander are the ones emailing each other.”

  “What about the audio tape of Sophia and me in our bedroom? Bryanna did it, didn’t she?”

  She nods her head, seeming to release herself of her mental gap. “Yes! They would’ve used that eventually, but now I’m afraid Harrison is so desperate I’m afraid he’ll push for. . . .” Tears once again cover her face, making me wonder how someone’s conscience could turn on and off when it suites them.

  “Push for what?” I squint my eyes trying to get a read on what she’s about to say. If seeing the utter fear on her face isn’t enough, the look in her eyes is. “Damn it!”

  “What?” Lucas yells.

  Shaking her head she mumbles, “I’m not sure, but I’ve heard Harrison talk to his brother about finishing off the President. I didn’t think anything of it. I thought it was just words they were throwing off each other, but when I saw this, I knew their plans veered to something much darker, more complicated.” She hands me a piece of paper with a black and white picture of a man I’ve seen a thousand times. An assassin affiliated with hard core mercenaries known in Europe, whose members are on the FBI watch list.

  “Who’s the target? Sophia? The President? Who, damn it!” Anger mixes with terror as the words spill out of my mouth.

  “Damien, what the hell is going on?” Lucas’ voice matches my own.

  “Why’d you wait this long to tell me?” I bark out at Nicole, my anger seething out of me while I yell out an order to my partner. “Lucas, get a hold of somebody!”

  With a shaky voice she mutters, “I was afraid! Still am! I have no one, no one to protect me. I don’t know if anyone would believe me! But once I realized what he was planning, I’ve been more watchful of him. I’ve seen calls coming from Virginia on his cell phone.” She pauses then says, “I’ve never done this before! I don’t know what to do. You have to believe me!”

  I dial Dan’s number, not willing to waste another second. “It’s me. I’m leaving my room with Nicole. This is more complicated than I thought. You’ve heard everything, right? I’m emailing you a pic of the bastard. Let me know what you come up with after you run it. We’ll go to the safe house just make sure everything is in place, then tell me where to go.”

  “I still can’t believe Nicole is the . . .” A pause as acceptance sets in. “ . . . right fucking under our noses! Don’t worry; I’ll make sure everything is in place. Just get there safely.”

  “Thanks, Dan. Moving in sixty, Lucas.”

  I hang up with Dan as I yank the cameras and throw them in the duffle bag. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Nicole walk toward the window seeming oblivious of everything around her. Perhaps contemplating what she did or didn’t do when a sharp noise pierces through the glass. Nicole falls on the floor lifeless as I dive taking cover.

  “Damien! Are you okay?”

  I crawl toward Nicole only to find her face bloodied, a shot to her head.

  “Lucas, we need to move! We got made!” In a matter of seconds, we’re both in the hallway wide eyed but ready to roll.

  We take the elevator straight to the parking lot, my Sig Sauer safely tucked on my back ready to be used. As the elevator stops, I reach for my gun at the same time Lucas reaches for his. I jerk my head to the right motioning him to exit. Ten paces to the left, we stop as he pulls his car keys. Just when he’s about to hit the unlock button, footsteps echo letting us know we have company.

  We both duck down waiting as the footsteps come closer. Lucas moves to his right while I move to my left when a hard hit on my head causes me to fall back against the car. The cigar smelling asshole jumps on me, hits me a few times on the back of the head as I hear Lucas wrestle with someone behind me.

  “Got you now, fucker!” He yells in my ear as I swing my elbow at him, hitting him on the face. I quickly get up, pull my knife, and aim it at his throat.

  “Who’s got whom now you piece of shit! Who are you working for?”

  He spits at me with a dead set look in his eyes, silently telling me I won’t get anything from him. I knew then, it’s either he kills me or I kill him. There’s no negotiating with these people.

  “You piece of shit!” Lucas groans as he slams his gun on the guy’s head knocking him unconscious.

  “Again, who are you working for? Answer!” My voice is low, menacingly low.

  He moves to grab my wrist, fighting me off as he squirms underneath me while I keep him pinned down. With one twist of my hand, I jam the knife straight through his throat stopping his movement instantly as blood starts to trickle under him.

  “What do you want me to do with this asshole?” Lucas mumbles, breathing hard.

  “Cuff him against the railing.” I reach for my phone. “Benson, you need to send someone at my location. I have a present waiting for them handcuffed against the railing in the parking structure behind two SUV’s. One black, the other red, parking space F10. The President’s Press Secretary was just killed. She’s in room 910.”

  We run to our car and within seconds Lucas is peeling out heading to our second stop. If we’re being followed, we’ll notice soon enough. Six blocks out and the coast is clear. I keep my head clear as Lucas drives into another parking structure to switch cars. Once inside the new car, we head north to the safe house as I make the dreaded phone call to Dan.

  “You got my email? What do you have so far? Tell me something good since I have a bad feeling about this.”

  “Got it. Our guy is one bad motherfucker. I’ll tell you that. The President has a scheduled visit to Walter Reed with Mrs. Andrews and Sophia this Friday around nine A.M., no other appearances after that. I’ll work as fast as possible, and then I’ll send you wherever you need to go.”

  “You know where to reach me, and Dan, make it quick.” I breathe out as Sophia’s face enters my mind for the hundredth time today.

  “Alright, stay safe.”

  We arrive at the safe house an hour later, immediately getting debriefed while Lucas and I eat. After the meeting, we’re like sitting ducks engaged in a waiting game. I haven’t heard from Dan. The FBI’s checking the chatter online trying to find just one piece of evidence that’ll link us to a place—to anything, actually.
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  I shoot Sophia a text instead of calling, letting her know I’m safe. When I made that promise of full disclosure to her, I should’ve been specific that classified information doesn’t fall under that promise.

  Dead—physically my body is drained, but I can’t shut it down knowing the danger that’s lurking. One thing is for sure, come game day there’s only one person dead, and it won’t be the one I swore to protect.

  Alive—my nerves are on high alert reminding me that at any moment something could happen, and I pray that when it does, I’m close by my wife.

  DAMIEN

  I FIND MYSELF THREE DAYS later in the suburbs of Virginia Beach casing a house. We received intel that it’s where the mercenaries hired by Ted Harrison are holed up. The tech team of the Secret Service was able to triangulate a call from Ivan Harrison’s cell phone to this house.

  Five days. . . . Five days of just swapping text with Sophia. . . . five days of pretending our nightmare will soon be over. . . . five days of little to no sleep, and five freaking days of wanting this to be over.

  “We’ve finally got the green light, Damien,” Lucas’ low voice wakes me up.

  Blinking my eyes twice, I sit up and shake my head. “Who gave the go ahead?” I glance at my watch—two in the morning.

  “Dan. He called five minutes ago. I’m getting everyone mobilized. One hour, we’re storming in.”

  We’re working with the Secret Service field agents in our Virginia office plus agents from the FBI and Homeland Security. With everything that went down in California, Dan thought it would be best if Lucas stayed with me until the end of this. These agencies never work together, but when it comes to the President’s safety, it’s all hands on deck.

  I go through the motions of checking and double checking my gear, checking comms as the lead agent of the FBI walks in with a schematic of the house we’re about to move on.

  He extends his hand, nodding to me. “Agent Daniels.”

  I shake his hand and nod in the same fashion. “Williams. I’ll take point, okay? One thing though, this guy. . . .” I point to the picture with a bull’s eye taped on the wall. “. . . . this fucker’s mine.”