Hawke

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Hawke Page 5

by Trent, Emily Jane


  Arabella had brown eyes and golden hair like Emilia, but she’d been more delicate. She had a frailty to her that was partly due to her illness. Also, she was petite and feminine. Emilia had adored her younger sister and spent as much time with her as she could.

  High school had been busy, and Emilia hadn’t realized how short her sister’s life would be. If she had, then she would have cut her extracurricular activities short to be with her sister. It was too late for that. There was no way to do it over.

  Hardly a day went by without Emilia thinking of her younger sister. She flipped the pages of the photo album and lingered over pictures of her sister. She was youthful and pretty, smiling for the camera. It didn’t seem right that she’d had so few years of life.

  Emilia ran her fingertips over the image. The news that her sister had passed away had crushed her. She’d cried for months and been unable to focus on school. Hawke had been around then, had been a close friend. He’d attended the funeral and offered his sympathy.

  But no one had been able to do anything to avert disaster. That feeling of helplessness had been awful. Emilia had sworn that she would devote herself to finding a cure, so that no other little girl would die of that dreadful disease.

  She’d determined to be a biotechnician in the field of medicine, so she could find a cure. It had seemed like a star-high goal, and it was. Yet after years of hard work, she was close to achieving her dream. She looked at another picture of her sister, wearing a frilly dress, and looking like any young girl with her whole future ahead of her.

  She lifted the book and kissed her sister’s cheek. “We’re going to save Asha,” she said. “You’ll see. It’s going to work.” The ache in her heart from the loss of her sister persisted, the emotional pain a constant companion. She couldn’t bring her sister back, but she could save another innocent girl from the same fate.

  *****

  Monday morning, Emilia returned to the lab. Getting back to work felt good. She’d spent Sunday alone, which she often did. Yet it had seemed lonelier after spending a night with Hawke. But she couldn’t put demands on him. He was already doing enough.

  The staff was having coffee, preparing for the day’s tasks, when Mac called a meeting. It made sense that he’d want to say something about what had happened. Emilia shuffled into his office, along with the rest. The boss looked serious yet spoke in a calm voice.

  He clearly wanted to reassure everyone. Last week was an isolated incident. There was nothing to indicate that they should worry. Ray was gone, his permissions revoked. His temper tantrum would soon be forgotten. He didn’t want them to give it another thought.

  The staff didn’t offer any comment. But as she exited the room, Emilia felt like they were looking at her accusingly. It was her fault. She’d mishandled his dismissal. It seemed as if the consensus was that if Ray was furious at her then she must have deserved it.

  Maybe it was her guilt over it that made Emilia feel that way. She’d worked with her staff for a long time and tried to convince herself that they would back her up. Yet it all felt so awkward, so weird. When Mac motioned for her to stay behind, she was glad to do so.

  She sat across from him and gave him a pointed stare. “You shouldn’t have told them that it was over. The issue is not resolved. My friend Hawke is in the security business, and he is certain there is more to it than Ray.”

  “Well, Hawke doesn’t work here. I’m glad you have a friend, but we need to focus on the project,” Mac said. “You can’t let this derail you.”

  “I’m trying not to let it.” Emilia frowned. “Why do you think someone is attacking me?”

  “Because you got him fired?”

  Emilia scrolled to a text and handed the phone to her boss. “This doesn’t support that.”

  Mac looked at the text, then at the others. “Idle threats,” he said. “Someone is trying to scare you. But you can’t seriously believe that your safety is at risk.”

  “This business is fierce and competitive,” Emilia said. “You know that as well as I do. Some will stop at nothing to win.”

  Mac looked thoughtful. “Maybe so. But I fail to see how bullying you into ceasing work on the project gives anyone else an advantage.”

  “I didn’t say I had all the answers, but there are still important questions to be resolved. I think that until the threats stop, you should recognize the significance of what is happening.”

  Emilia had hoped to have her boss on her side, but he didn’t appear convinced.

  “Speaking of competitive,” Mac said, “don’t forget about the industry event coming up. It’s only a couple of days away. I’ve confirmed our attendance. Without sharing anything confidential, you’ll need to be there to talk about the project. Once we get over the hurdle of the initial FDA approval, we’ll need money for the clinical trials.”

  Emilia expelled a breath. “The trials seem so far away, not worth focusing on yet. We’re supposed to get that initial approval any day. I’m preparing for it, and anxious to deliver the medicine to Asha. We’ll think about clinical trials when we get there.”

  “It doesn’t work that way.” Mac leaned closer. “We have to look ahead, or the funding won’t be there when we need it. I expect to see you at that event.”

  Emilia didn’t feel like attending; she didn’t feel very social under the circumstances. But there was no way to refuse. Without arguing further, she left her boss’s office and went for a coffee refill. She needed more caffeine to face the day.

  Grigori was in the breakroom with the same idea. He refilled his cup and moved aside for her to do the same. Emilia was glad to have a lab partner who understood. He’d worked with her for the length of the project, and had a vested interest in its outcome.

  “How was your weekend?” Emilia said.

  “The usual, except that my wife didn’t take the news of Ray’s tirade very well.” Grigori poured cream into his coffee. “She doesn’t hold the same view as the boss, that there’s no reason to worry.”

  “I hope you reassured her. This is more about me than you. I’m the project manager,” Emilia said. “I’m the target if anyone is.”

  Grigori knew the score. As the lead of the project, Emilia had data and experimental results that no one else did. It was a safety precaution. The lab technicians each did their part, but she was the only one who could put it all together. She had the missing piece.

  “Ray’s just a hothead.”

  “That might be so, but there have been other threats. I’m guessing that he isn’t alone,” Emilia said. “We have to get the medicine to Asha. We’re so close. Once that happens, the attackers will go away.”

  Or so she hoped. She pushed all that aside to focus on her work. That was what mattered.

  When she had a spare moment, she thought about the industry event. She wished she had a way out, but Mac was right. She had to be there. The success they strived for with Asha would be the beginning. A chance to develop the medicine for broader consumption, and to save others.

  Emilia wanted that, but she disliked jumping through hoops to get funding. That was what Mac was good at. Sometimes she was required to take part. But she didn’t have to like it. Maybe she could make an appearance, then duck out early.

  After lunch, Emilia’s phone vibrated, giving her pause. She was glad to see it was a call from Hawke, so went to a private room to talk. “Nice to hear from you. Were you able to avert that crisis yesterday?”

  “It’s under control,” Hawke said. “It’s good I was called in, although I’m sorry I had to leave so abruptly.”

  “You have work to do, clients to service. I get that.”

  “Don’t be too accommodating,” Hawke said. “Your situation is still at the top of my list.”

  That didn’t make Emilia feel any better. If he was concerned, then there was no way she could relax about it.

  “Is anything new?”

  “As promised, I had Jake and Amanda dig into the girlfriend’s background. It
was a dead end. She’s a retail clerk, and her history was unremarkable—except for one thing.”

  Emilia waited, hoping it wasn’t too terrible.

  “She lives in a very expensive home that was recently purchased,” Hawke said. “The question arises: where did the money come from?”

  “Maybe she saved for years?”

  “I doubt it, not judging by how she currently lives. We’ll follow the money and see where it leads.”

  “You think Ray had money? Entry-level technicians don’t get paid that much.”

  “There’s more to Ray than meets the eye,” Hawke said.

  Emilia said that she might have to work late, but she’d keep her phone close. “Call if anything more comes up.” Then she went back to work.

  It was difficult to get her mind off her dilemma. While she sweated to get the final experiments done and documentation prepared, she was in some sort of peril that she didn’t understand. Hawke and his team were her allies. If not for them, she didn’t know what she’d do.

  Even Mac had downplayed the situation. It might have been his attempt to keep her from worrying. That was the wrong approach, no matter how well intended. Emilia needed the truth, as that was the only thing that was going to put her mind at ease.

  Near the end of the day, the staff began to filter out and head home. Grigori was one of the last to go. “I don’t want to be too late and give my wife any more reason to be concerned.”

  “Sure, you go,” Emilia said. “I’ll finish up this last thing. Go home to your family.”

  The lab was quiet, which Emilia preferred. Sometimes she stayed late just to get more accomplished. Without the staff around, she could keep her mind on task better. Security monitored the building around the clock, so she was safe while on the premises.

  When Emilia’s energy gave out, she finished up and gathered her stuff to leave. The hallway was silent, and her shoes clicked on the polished floors as she walked down the hallway. She thought about what to have for dinner. Then a door opened and Clive stepped out, briefcase in hand.

  The HR manager locked his door before he noticed her. “Emilia…you’re working late.”

  “That’s not unusual for me. But it’s odd to see you here.”

  Clive’s shirt was rumpled and his dark hair messy. He looked like he’d slept in his office. He walked toward her, his limp more pronounced. “How’s your leg?” It was probably a bit personal, but she’d asked without thinking.

  “Oh, fine, I guess.” Clive rubbed his upper thigh. “It pains me, but I suppose I’m used to it.”

  Emilia wondered what the evening held for him. Clive didn’t seem like the social type, and he didn’t have a wife or kids that she knew of. She hadn’t thought much about him at all before, or what he did when he wasn’t buried in paperwork.

  “Well, then have a good evening,” Emilia said, ready to go on her way. “See you tomorrow.” She let Clive get ahead of her, so he’d take the elevator alone. For some reason, she wasn’t in the mood for small talk.

  Then Emilia remembered her leftovers from lunch. It might serve as her dinner. All she wanted to do was go home and take a hot bath. The thought of eating out or picking up food exhausted her. She’d have a light meal, then relax.

  She returned to the lunchroom and rummaged in the refrigerator, hoping a coworker hadn’t eaten the rest of her veggie wrap. It was shoved to the back, but still in its wrapper. She grabbed it, then headed back down the hall.

  At this rate, it was going to be really late before she got home. It couldn’t be helped. She took the elevator, watching the floor numbers flash by. It was all way too slow. She should have taken the stairs. Following a ding, the door finally opened.

  She strode across the elevator bay but paused at the main hall to check her phone. It was silly of her, but she’d hoped to hear from Hawke again—like he’d ask her out or something. She had to quit doing that to herself. Having expectations was going to make the relationship awkward.

  That was the last thing she wanted to do, detract from the friendship she had with him. If Hawke sensed she wanted more, he’d feel bad. He’d be cornered into telling her that he didn’t feel more than friendship. She didn’t think she could stand hearing him say what she already knew.

  There wasn’t any text from Hawke. But there was a message from Tia: Check this out. She’d linked to a social media thread, which led to many others. Her accounts were to biotech pages and scientific research companies. Not the stuff most people read.

  But those who mattered did read. And what Emilia read horrified her. She slumped onto a nearby padded bench and continued reading. The social media attacks were blatant lies. The threads maligned her personally, saying that she was incompetent.

  It was a way to intimidate her, and it was working. The suggestion that she quit was a repeating theme. It was alleged that her claim of a cure was a hoax. And worse, that the medicine she intended to release was harmful. It was a danger to unsuspecting patients.

  Emilia felt dizzy. She gripped the phone, unable to comprehend. It was bad enough that she had to face allegations that she was perpetrating fraud. But the worst shock was that the project had been made so public. She wouldn’t have posted about her work on social media.

  Very few people knew of Asha or had any clue about the medicine being developed. It was kept confidential and out of the public eye—but not anymore.

  The project had been held up to scrutiny. And its introduction to the wider scientific community had been a scathing condemnation. She panicked. Mac would see the posts, as would potential investors, even current investors.

  It was a nightmare, one that she wasn’t going to wake up from soon. The situation had escalated. It was no longer a matter of personal threats. The social media splash put the whole project in jeopardy. It defied the boundaries of decency. The perpetrator had to realize that he’d put the life of a child at risk.

  Chapter 6

  Hawke had worked all day on Sunday, then was back at his desk early Monday morning. There seemed to be no shortage of crisis situations. His team thrived on unexpected danger, so the company was appropriately named.

  Black Swan had grown quickly in its first year. With private funding, Hawke had partnered with Ryker and launched their executive protection business. Already, more staff had been hired to accommodate client demands.

  The central location wasn’t fancy. What the team needed was space, and that was what they had in the warehouse building in Southwest Philly. Besides office space, there were loading docks and an industrial-size garage. It suited their purpose, since assignments were executed off-site.

  The support crew handled risk assessment and digital security from their computers. Disasters had been averted and lives saved in the short time the team had been in the protection business. That was what they were good at, so it was a way to use their skills in civilian life.

  Hawke logged details of the recent job into his computer, while his thoughts drifted to Emilia. He couldn’t get her out of his mind. Her beauty, the softness of her skin, and how she’d felt against him were memories that haunted him.

  Without warning, Hawke’s feelings for her had grown stronger. He no longer saw her as only a friend. She was a desirable woman. The night in bed next to her had been torture. He’d wrapped her in his arms but moved his body back, so she wouldn’t perceive his arousal.

  Emilia was too kind to say so, even if she had. And Hawke certainly hadn’t wanted to make his desire obvious. He reflected on his reasons for holding back, sure that he was right for doing so. He’d changed over the years, and was no longer the person she’d known so long ago.

  Yet the friendship he had with her would endure. Hawke understood support and loyalty. But the fact remained that he couldn’t give her what she needed. His soul had been darkened by evil, as he’d seen so much of it on deployment. In his younger years, he’d been lighthearted, even carefree.

  That was no longer the case. Hawke’s memories were
filled with desolation and sadness. Even though he’d done his part to protect the innocent, there had been too much death involved. He’d done his job, honored his country, and kept those he loved safe.

  But he carried the burden of what he’d seen and experienced. That wouldn’t go away, and he had no intention of darkening any woman’s life with his baggage. Emilia was a bright woman with an amazing future ahead. She’d find the right man, one who could give her the joy she deserved.

  His conviction that he shouldn’t open his heart to Emilia was easy to conceive, but more difficult to stick to. He couldn’t lie to himself. He wanted her, and as more than a friend. Several times when he’d been with her recently, he’d had the urge to tell her.

  Yet he hadn’t spoken a word about his real feelings. For one thing, he wasn’t good at such talks. And for another, the timing was lousy. As long as Emilia was in danger, keeping her safe had to be his only focus. Letting his desires cloud the issue would be selfish, and detrimental to her protection.

  Hawke closed the report then leaned back in his chair. He was fortunate to have such a qualified team. Amanda Long was as fiery as her red hair. She was pretty, but pity anyone who let that fool them. She was ex-military with attitude and could take apart a computer then put it back together—as well as hack any data she wanted from it.

  Her chosen nemesis, Jake Holland, was muscled and fit, capable of any close protection assignment. Yet he excelled with the technical side, as he had during his Navy career. It seemed there wasn’t much he couldn’t find out. If there was, Hawke didn’t know about it.

  The two teammates should have gotten along, considering they had so much in common. Yet it hadn’t worked out that way. Amanda had taken issue with Jake for an undisclosed reason. That was her business, and Jake seemed able to take the heat. Both were top-notch in digital security, so Hawke didn’t intend to lose either one of them.

  Then there was Ryker Johnson, second-in-command. One look in those gunmetal-blue eyes could back off an enemy. Hawke had seen him do it on more than one occasion. His buddy kept his hair cropped short, seeing no reason to change it. What had worked in the Navy would work for the civilian gig.

 

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