by Cara Carnes
Jud glanced at the form. “Is this about the form, or something else?”
“You know what I mean, Jud. But, yeah. The form is important. Mary and I have never placed an asset on a team or worked with one unless we can fill this out.” She motioned toward the four-page intricate list. “I tried filling this out earlier. I got past your name and was guessing at everything else.”
Jud picked up the list, visibly tightening when he realized what it was.
“Mary and I never work with an operative unless we have at least the first half of this form filled out and verified. The more we know, the easier the op and the higher the likelihood everyone returns breathing.” She locked gazes. “You’re a threat because you’re a phantom, a total unknown.”
“Look at me,” he ordered.
He cupped her face. Despite her best intention otherwise, she complied. “Jud, don’t.”
“Not doing anything, Viviana. Tonight’s about decompression, nothing else. I won’t ever put you or your teams at risk. I’m thankful as fuck you and your crews handled themselves so well through all this. I’m not used to working with teams. I’ll adjust.”
No. That wasn’t the response she wanted, needed.
Adjustment meant he planned to stick around.
“Come on.” He stood and held out his hand. “Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“Bed.”
Anticipation wove with desire. Her hand tingled when he took it and guided her to a standing position.
“Not like that, Viviana,” he whispered. “Your expressions are so readable when your guard is down.”
Hot breath trailed against her cheek when he held her close. She craved the contact.
“You’re dead on your feet. Let’s get you into bed. We’ll figure everything else out tomorrow.”
She watched in shock as he carefully gathered her supplies and returned them to the carrier. He placed it under his arm and guided her toward the hallway. She wandered behind him, suddenly bone tired. Her brain was mush, quiet and silent. She welcomed the blissful numbness crawling through her. He set the supplies beside the bed and aimed her toward the bathroom.
“Do what you’ve gotta do. I’ll turn down your bed.”
He’d turn down the bed. Vi wandered into the bathroom and tried to remember the last time a man had turned down her bed. Never. By the time she headed back out, the overhead light was off. Pale yellow light shone from the nightstand lamp. She crawled beneath the down-turned covers and moaned. A bed had never felt so good.
“Jesus,” he muttered.
“Sorry, I haven’t slept in a while.”
“Lay on your stomach. I’ll rub you down.”
The temptation was too good. She remembered how good his hands felt on her. She sighed and surrendered to the offer, the comfort. She closed her eyes as he started massaging her shoulders.
There was a special place in hell for assholes like him. Blood surged southward as Jud massaged his way down Viviana’s back. Her soft moans and sighs kept him focused on the wrong things, but after a shit day he needed this moment—being nothing more than a man taking care of a good woman, one who’d had an equally shitty day. Security was stretched thin, but Marcus assured him it was under control for a few hours. Jacob was monitoring HERA’s readouts and promised to contact him if there was trouble.
“Relax, Viviana. You’re too tense.”
“This is the most relaxed I’ve been in years.” The pillow muffled her words as she relaxed deeper into the bed beneath them. “You’re too good at this. Was this in the assassin training manual?”
“In a way,” he admitted. “The better you know the human body, the better you can be at hand-to-hand combat. Using what I learned like this is a lot more enjoyable, though.”
“It’s hard doing what you do,” she stated.
“Yes. The day taking a life becomes easy is when you should eat a bullet. But there’s a difference between a distant kill through a scope and close contact.”
“How so?” Her voice was soft, but held more emotion and concern than he’d gotten from anyone in a while. More than he deserved.
“It’s more personal, harder to scrub from your mind.” Knives were a weapon he excelled at, but they created their own demons.
Arterial sprays, walking away from a fight with someone’s blood covering you. Though he rarely went into a battle like that unless absolutely necessary, the aftermath was the same. Hot showers and skin scrubs only did so much to wipe away what he’d done—taken a life to save his own. Or someone else’s. Every life taken came with a price, a penance. No one walked away from war unscathed.
Jud accepted the burdens of his chosen life long ago, but that didn’t make it any easier. “When The Collective allowed me to reestablish contact with my family, I was thrilled at first. I’d been in the dark, alone, too long. I was ready to live, savor family and take a hit of the good I worked to protect. Then I realized it was just a deeper layer of hell.”
“Because you weren’t out, not really.”
“No. I was straddling the line and more alone than ever because I wanted to insulate them from what I did. I’d moved away from the really intense work, but the contracts assigned to me were…complicated.”
“Jacob knows more than I expected him to,” she whispered. “He’s a lot like me when I was that age. Curious and head-strong.”
“He’s definitely nosy and stubborn.” Jud chuckled. “He’s why I forced the new deal. Communication with me and my family before then was very rare, but my parents had a contact for emergencies. Jacob hit his rebellious stage early, started hacking and using his skills for personal gain.”
“It’s hard being a teenager and not fitting in. It’s easy to stumble onto the wrong path, especially if there are people around who want you on that path.” She arced upward when he stopped massaging, as if seeking his touch. “Mary and I went into our rebellious stage together, started hacking for the wrong reasons our sophomore year at MIT. That’s how we ran across the pedophiles and assholes we initially targeted with our first version of HERA.”
“I bet they didn’t know what hit them.”
“It took a while to perfect, but we eventually got a good thing going. We could identify just about anyone and provide law enforcement with their identities and copies of everything they had on their system, where they’d been and who they’d been chatting with. One of the last stings we did our senior year was how we got on Peter Rugers’ radar. He recruited us into Hive.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “I should’ve known he wasn’t much better than the assholes we were bringing down.”
“You’re a beautifully brilliant woman, Viviana, smart enough to understand and accept that not everything is your fault. Things are going to go wrong. It isn’t always because you did something wrong or missed something. Even if it is, you’re human. No one’s perfect.”
“You’re a lone wolf. A team’s only as strong as its foundation, and that’s me. If I’m not one hundred and twenty-five percent solid, I weaken their success before the mission is a go. Take today, for example. I should have realized Fallon’s team was in as much danger as the rest of the teams, but I didn’t because he wasn’t striking a camp. A total stranger saved his ass because I wasn’t there to do it.”
“You and Mary had eight teams to coordinate at once in what most would think was an impossible mission. And that stranger was one you recruited, right? You put her in as a contingency because you knew she might be needed. And she was.” He maneuvered from a straddling position atop her and urged her to turn over until she was on her back and looking up at him. “You’re an amazing woman, Viviana. But you’re wrong.”
“I am?”
“The hardest missions are those someone takes on alone. When I’m a lone wolf, I don’t have someone to pick up my slack if things go sideways. No matter what might go down, those teams today had each other. And you.” He cupped her face. “I wish you could see how fucking incredible you and Edge ar
e. You have no idea. I want to punch whoever made you believe it’s your fault whenever something goes wrong, because that’s not true, Viviana. When something goes wrong, you are the one who fixes it. You’re the solution, not the cause.”
“He’s right, you know.”
Jud vaulted off the bed and lunged for the gun on the bedside table. Mary, Rhea, Bree and Riley stood at the bedroom entry in assorted stages of shocked and amused.
“Okay, that was hot,” Riley whispered as she clutched Rhea’s arm.
“Uh huh.” Bree gulped. “I didn’t know anyone who can jump and twirl that fast.”
Viviana sat up in the bed. “What’s wrong? Are you all okay?”
Jud took in the duffel bags and backpacks each woman held and the assortment of blankets and pillows strewn about in the hallway behind them. He growled his frustration. Viviana needed rest. Then he noted Bree’s and Rhea’s widened gazes, noted the way they clung to Mary—who looked like she was one scream away from crawling out of her skin.
Dylan was still en route home.
The teams were gone and the compound had been attacked.
The women’s homes had been attacked.
The frustration in him eased and he set the gun on the bedside table as he looked down at Viviana. “You girls get settled. I’ll grab the gear from the hallway. You all need to rest while you can.”
“Addy will be back in a few hours,” Bree said. “We were thinking we could all crash here, wait until she gets back.”
“That sounds perfect,” Viviana said as she patted the king-sized bed. “Come on. Climb on.”
“Are we getting massages, too?” Rhea asked.
“Pfft, I think that man has one setting and it’s locked to Vi,” Riley responded as she toed her shoes off and crawled onto the bed. “I didn’t do a damn thing today and I’m still exhausted.”
“Shock does that.” Mary cuddled up against Vi and squeezed her tight. “You okay?”
“No, but I will be. You?”
“No, but I will be.”
Jud watched the women nest on Viviana’s bed as he tossed pillows and blankets into the room. Duffel bags filled with snacks were tossed haphazardly into the room. The women whispered and chattered as they huddled close and situated pillows around and between them. He covered them up with a couple of blankets and half-shut the door.
Any doubt he’d harbored about whether he made the right decision to protect the Quillery Edge was killed in that room. He’d keep all the women and everyone in The Arsenal safe because, for once, he was on the right path.
Jud wandered back into the living room and sat on the sofa. Pen in hand, he picked up the form and read through it once. Jesus. He’d be an idiot to even consider sharing that depth of information with anyone.
So why the hell was he already on the fourth empty space?
Because him being an unknown put her at risk. She couldn’t factor him into security plans and trust him if he didn’t take the first step, extend the first olive branch. He’d never shared this much with anyone, let anyone this deep into his world. Each check mark felt like a strike to his soul, the man he’d once wanted to be.
He’s operated in the black, the shadows so long he couldn’t even smell clean, pure air. Until he’d arrived at The Arsenal. For once he felt good about the stand he was making. He’d never be a good man, but he’d be better as long as he was around.
Which might not be long after today. The Collective wouldn’t stop until he was dead.
He glanced down the hall, thinking about the beautiful, brilliant woman sleeping. Trusting him to chase her nightmares away. He would do anything to keep her safe because she’d pulled Danny’s ass out of hell. Again. This time it’d been a hell created because of him.
14
Viviana ignored the little man slamming a sledgehammer around in her brain and padded into the kitchen for coffee. She stepped over Riley and Bree. Halted in a bit of confusion when she saw Rhea on the floor a ways away. It wasn’t the woman sprawled alone that surprised her. They’d crashed there the past few nights, mainly to keep Mary from climbing the walls since Dylan was gone. It was the silent man watching them all sleep.
“Fallon.” His name came out as more of a pained whisper than greeting. She dragged a mug down and filled it with coffee. He made noise as he progressed into the kitchen, intentional on his part since he was always lethal quiet. Not like Jud, but lethal nonetheless. “Coffee?”
“Yeah, black.”
Like he’d ever drink it any other way. He’d probably spontaneously combust if he drank it with cream or sugar. She looked around, wondering how long she could stall before he’d get bored and go away. It’d been two days since she’d screwed up and his team had almost paid the price. Although she’d semi-accepted she couldn’t have done more, suddenly seeing him in person awakened the almost-comatose guilt.
“I didn’t realize you all got in,” she said. “Gage and Addy were supposed to wake me.”
“We got in a couple hours ago. We decided to crash a few hours before debrief,” he commented as he took the mug she offered. “Got an earful from Addy, then Rhea when I came over here a while ago. Seems you and me should have a one-on-one debrief before we all get together.”
Her insides churned. She focused on a lone dish in the sink. The water turned hot as it cascaded onto her hand. She wiped the dish, the motion repetitive and hypnotic. If she focused hard enough she could almost pretend he hadn’t taken two steps forward and was now within reaching distance. “I’m sorry.”
Fallon settled a hand on her right shoulder and turned her until they faced one another. “Before I got an earful from Addy, I got one from Jud. Have to admit that man intimidates me.”
Vi couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity. The two men were more alike than any of the others at The Arsenal. Both were private contractors, or had been. Fallon recently signed on and was now a team leader. “Funny. I don’t think either of you could ever be intimidated.”
“You and Edge did a hell of a good job, nothing you could’ve done better. The feeds the teams got were only their own, but I got them all. I heard all four strikes. The fact you did all that while the compound was under attack…” His jaw twitched. Lips thinned, he glanced away. “Don’t take blame that isn’t yours to own. You blaming yourself for that means we all get to blame ourselves for not being here when the compound needed us. You want that?”
No. Talk about stupid. How could they possibly be blamed? They had a job to do and had been in the middle of…
She swallowed the rest of the mental diatribe and narrowed her gaze. Not even the little voice in her head that blamed Vi for everything could argue with his logic.
“What happened?” She took a sip of her coffee, forcing the liquid down. “I replayed your feed and it was silent. Who got the jump on you?”
“Friendlies, or so we thought. The SEAL team hanging out with us didn’t suspect them being anything other than that either. They were CIA contracted, never got the letters behind them. All I know is one minute they were chatting us up and the next they had us taken down. We were outnumbered three to one, but that’s no excuse. I trusted them because of who they worked for and shouldn’t have. It won’t happen again.”
So the NSA fed intel to a CIA team and Zero somehow got wind of it. “They were dirty.”
“Yeah, they were dirty. We went with them without a fight because we knew we’d get away at some point. I wanted more information on who they were working with and what their end game was.” Fallon paused for a sip of coffee. “Before we could make a move, they got a call saying they’d been burned and to pull out immediately. We eliminated them before they eliminated us. We were outnumbered, but not by much at that point. Some of them had left, thinking they had us sufficiently secured.”
Big mistake underestimating a SEAL team and an Arsenal team combined. “We knew there was Hive involvement in this mess at some point. I should’ve had a better contingency plan in place.”
>
“The one you had in place worked. There’s a big enough mine field left out there for us to navigate without you throwing this into the mix. We’re good. The only injuries were minor and the bad guys didn’t walk away.” Fallon bumped her nose with his index finger and grinned. “Let’s focus on kicking some Collective ass.”
Vi was on board with the idea. She and Mary had refocused everyone’s—mainly Rhea, Bree and Riley—nervous, apprehensive energy into an offensive plan. Proactive, not reactive. Not exactly the best motto, but way better than run and hide or cower and cry. They’d spent yesterday holed up in what was now known as the white-board room. At first, she hadn’t wanted to involve the other women, but then Mary pointed out the obvious.
They were involved the second this compound was hit. They had the right to fight back. Them helping unravel the data about The Collective was them fighting back.
So, the three women were now neck deep in forensic data mining at its best. Addy had even taken a seat at the table for a change and gotten involved. The hard drive she’d taken from Jian, when combined with what Jud had provided a lot of data—HERA had been processing since late yesterday afternoon. Vi hoped the system would spew data out in time for it to become part of the debriefing, but from what she’d seen so far, she suspected they’d need a third dataset.
“I’ll see you later. Chin up. You kicked ass with this one, like always. Don’t ever doubt yourself,” Fallon said.
“Thank you,” she whispered as he drew her into a hug.
“Guess I’m not the only one looking for a shot of sass this morning.”
Vi shoved away from Fallon as if he was on fire. The operative chuckled as he took a couple steps back and greeted Jud with a weird handshake and half-hug back slap greeting.
“Just ironing out the wrinkles in her head,” Fallon said. “Didn’t want another earful from anyone about her falsely taking the blame for what went down.”
“You good?” Jud asked her.
“Yeah, I’m good.” She busied herself pouring another cup of coffee. “Afraid I’m low on sass, though. You’ll have to go sans sass this time around.”