by Cara Carnes
Lethal Echo
Cara Carnes
Contents
Acknowledgments
Author’s Note
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
About the Author
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Copyright © 2021 Cara Carnes
All rights reserved.
Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
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Cover Models: Jessica & Mathieu
Photography by: Paul Henry Serres
Cover Design by Dar Albert
Editing by: Becky Edits & Ink It Out Editing
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For the latest information, subscribe to my newsletter, or join my Facebook Group.
Created with Vellum
Acknowledgments
It might take a village to put out a book, but when it comes to The Arsenal I’m beyond blessed to have an army behind me. I wish there were enough pages to thank everyone individually.
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Thank you to my fearless editors, who never fail to knock my words into shape. And my talented photographer and fabulous cover designer for always, always providing gorgeous covers that bring the world to life.
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A huge thank you to Tracie, Arlene, Heather, and Becca for your valuable feedback. Your insight and dedication to The Arsenal world is truly appreciated.
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Thank you to all the experts I’ve reached out to throughout this series. I have learned so much from your expertise, and I thank you for your time and insight. Any errors are entirely mine.
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And to The Cohorts and all the readers who have reached out about this series…You all are beyond fabulous. Your passion for these books, the characters within, and the romance genre itself is why I love writing so very much. I hope that I can do justice to the world you’re enjoying.
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***While The Arsenal series is a romance at its heart, the fiber, blood and bone of this series is a gritty, sometimes dark, and daunting rollercoaster ride of suspense, family, team, and honor. Love isn’t ever an easy road to navigate. While I’ve made every attempt to warn readers of possible triggers, please know there may very well be subject matter within this series that may be difficult to read.***
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Lethal Echo has some scenes involving capture and torture which may trigger some readers.
Author’s Note
I know. I know. You just want to start reading.
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Some events will be mentioned in Lethal Echo which took place in the free reads, Breathe and Bulletproof. If you stumble across reference to characters or events which you do not recall in Hostile Ground or previous Arsenal books, I assure you they took place in either Breathe or Bulletproof. Both reads are available for free via my website, but you can continue to read without those. I have referenced the events with enough context to not detract from the reading experience.
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Happy reading. I hope you enjoy Bree’s and Ram’s journey to HEA.
1
No matter how many times Bree Geissinger studied the document, the results were still the same. Something happened seven months ago to make the secretary of defense turn on The Arsenal. But what? Why?
Grrr. Answers would come faster if she could brainstorm this out with her Pentagon crew, aka her best friends: Mary, Vi, Rhea, and Addy. Oh, and then the new additions since she’d joined The Arsenal: Riley, Kamren, Zoey, Ellie, and…hmm…was Mia a part of the Pentagon squad now? Maybe? She was definitely a kickass, protector commando like Addy, but Bree hadn’t interacted with her much yet. She’d need to be vetted before she joined their inner ranks.
There wasn’t a problem in existence that the Pentagon couldn’t figure out. Every single one of those women was fiercely brilliant on her own, but combined? Yeah, they were a hive mind that could easily conquer the world. She laughed maniacally at the thought, mainly because none of them would want that responsibility.
Nope. They’d all taken on more than sane people would because none of them would ever sit on the sidelines when trouble struck—and boy did it. Huge, menacing waves of trouble, one after another, had almost drowned them all. But they’d overcome the threats and found the calmer waters that promised a brighter, happier future. The amazing men in their lives had helped them navigate the chaotic waves and kept them safe.
Some had endured more than others. Bree’s gut tightened as the memories assailed her, an unwelcome undercurrent that threatened to drag her under once more. Doctor Sinclair had given her the weapons she needed to fight those urges, the twisted whispers that’d dragged her into a chaotic, destructive storm.
Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. The simple exercise focused her thoughts on something other than the past, the things she couldn’t change.
All we can do is analyze what happened, accept the things we can’t change, and move on.
How many times had Sinclair said that during Bree’s daily sessions? Loads. Her mind recalled the first time the psychiatrist had confronted her with the truth. Denial still crawled within her whenever she thought about the conversation, but Bree knew deep down that Sinclair was right back then.
“You’ve been through a lot, Bree. All while not being in the driver’s seat, which I suspect is a huge problem for you. You’re used to be being the one in control, the one with power to turn the wheel in the direction you want. Trusting those around you to navigate isn’t always easy.” Empathy filled the woman’s gaze as it remained on Bree.
“That’s ridiculous. I trust everyone at The Arsenal with my life.” She did, without hesitation. Yet, her pulse quickened and the need to retreat consumed her thoughts.
Wait. Why had she reacted like that?
“Maybe, but that doesn’t stop the fear that’s invaded your defenses. It’s pervasive and something you can’t ignore if you want to overcome it.”
“I’m not scared.” The lie slid out easily as it always had since the first ordeal struck her friends. Mary had been kidnapped and tortured. Violated. She’d endured hell for days, and Bree hadn’t even realized she was in trouble. Why hadn’t I realized she was missing? We should’ve found her faster.
She’d chewed on that guilt daily since being at The Arsenal. Then Vi’s problem dropped another meal of emotional turmoil for Bree to consume. One threat after another had fed her thoughts with r
egrets and compounding guilt. She should’ve done more to help her friends, keep them safe.
Silence descended as she mulled over the vile banquet she’d feasted on. Why hadn’t she done more?
Sinclair broke the tense silence. “No. You’re terrified. Terrified you’ll be next. You’ve all faced harrowing ordeals since arriving at The Arsenal, one after another. You’re one of the most brilliant people I’ve ever met, Bree. Think about what I’m saying, really analyze the situation, and assess it for yourself. Terror drove you into this path and separated you from those you trust most. Why?”
“Because I was too weak to stop any of it,” Bree whispered. “I should’ve done more. I was powerless to stop what happened to them all. I could’ve done something, anything, to keep them safe. Why didn’t I?”
Sinclair leaned forward and took Bree’s hand. Squeezed. “Wars aren’t won alone. You have single-handedly done more than almost anyone here to combat every adversity we run up against.”
“No. That’s not true.” If it were, Mary wouldn’t have been taken. Assassins wouldn’t have come for Vi. Zoey wouldn’t have been waterboarded and lost her hair. Rhea wouldn’t have been taken by her psycho ex, and Fallon and his team wouldn’t have almost freaking died. “I’m the weak link. They’ve all suffered because they’re protecting me. A team is only as strong as their weakest link, and that’s me.”
Sinclair leaned back and studied her a moment. “You aren’t. That’s the guilt talking.”
“It’s not,” Bree whispered, clinging to her revelation like a life raft. She needed Sinclair to understand. “You have to believe me.”
“Why?”
“Because they won’t be safe until I’m no longer the weakest link. I have to be stronger. Smarter.” And she would be. All she needed was time. Time to plan. Time to figure out how to combat the threats still looming on the horizon. There’d be another storm because there always was. The next one might kill one of her friends, or the commandos who kept them all safe. She couldn’t let that happen. “I need to go away. I can’t be here while I overcome this…problem.”
“You’re stronger when surrounded by friends and family who understand what you’re going through,” Sinclair said. “They can help you navigate this.”
Bree shook her head. “They need to be focused on what matters.”
“That’s you, and there’s not a single person at The Arsenal who would refute that.”
“You’re wrong.” She licked her lips and looked down at the carpeted floor. “I can’t deny I have a problem, but I shouldn’t be here until I’ve overcome it. I’ll only distract them from what matters.”
Sinclair didn’t respond, not at first. The silence turned even more intense, a tsunami that threatened to drag Bree under the stormy waters. Icy remnants burned her lungs, a terrifying reminder of why she was in Sinclair’s office. Addy never should’ve found Bree waterboarding herself. Talk about pathetic.
Leaving The Arsenal and her friends would be hard, but she deserved to suffer that loss. A penance for being weak—a threat to them all. She’d work her way back to strong. Somehow.
“You’re a smart woman, Bree. Somewhere deep down, you know you are wrong. You have never, nor will you ever be, weak. Even if you were, that’s why we surround ourselves with friends. A team. We hold each other up when we’re struck down.”
“But I wasn’t struck down!” She shouted the words. “None of this shit happened to me. It happened to Mary. Vi. Zoey!” She shouted the last name because somehow her suffering seemed worse. She hadn’t been there from the start. No, she’d been dragged in because she’d wanted to be a part of The Arsenal to make a difference. “None of this happened to me, but I’m making it all about me. How selfish is that? That’s how I know I’m the weak link. They would never, ever, ever do that.”
“The closer we are to someone, the harder we feel a blow they take,” Sinclair whispered gently. “Let’s use Jesse as an example.”
Bree tensed. “Let’s not. He’s been through enough without being fodder for my crazy brain.”
“He has endured a lot.” Sinclair nodded her head. “But he came home and surrounded himself with family. Friends. Comrades. Do you think he would’ve overcome what happened to him if he’d self-isolated?”
“He did, at first,” Bree argued. “He may have been home, but he didn’t share. Not at first.”
“No. It took him witnessing Mary’s strength to seek the help she needed for him to do the same.” Sinclair paused when her voice turned emotional. “We should all learn from him. He wouldn’t want anyone learning that lesson the way he did.”
“What way?” Bree’s pulse thudded hard in her ears as she waited for the answer, even though she already knew. Deep down she knew.
“Fighting his demons alone,” Sinclair whispered. “It didn’t work. Wars aren’t won alone.”
Maybe not, but this wasn’t a war. Bree’s troubles weren’t even her troubles. They’d happened because of her, but they hadn’t hurt her. They’d ravished her friends. “This is different.”
“How so?”
“None of my friends would’ve suffered if I’d been smarter. I talked them into adding the drones to HERA. They were my idea. Every single fucked up thing they’ve gone through is because of me. I was behind the drones from the start.”
“Zoey’s ordeal had nothing to do with the drones. Mary and Vi were targeted for HERA—all of HERA, not just the drones,” Sinclair reasoned. “You’re smart enough to work through to that realization on your own. Promise me you’ll give your brain the room it needs to do that.”
“I will if I can go away for a while. I can’t be here. It’s not safe for them if I stay.”
“They wouldn’t want you self-isolating like that.”
Sinclair wouldn’t ever understand why this was important. Determination steeled Bree’s resolve. “This is happening with or without your blessing, Doc. I need a month away from here so I can get stronger and overcome this. If I stay here, I’ll get dragged under those crashing waves again. Seeing them risk their lives to protect me and everything I helped create is too much. You don’t understand.”
“You’re the one who doesn’t understand,” Sinclair said, her words edged with a tone she hadn’t used before. Bree tightened beneath the fierceness, but remained determined. “You make them all stronger, and you’ll only recover when you realize that without you, the entire chain will weaken. You aren’t the weak link, Bree. You’re the energy that feeds them all.”
Bree forced herself from the memory. It’d taken a long conversation to convince Doctor Sinclair to bless her temporary departure from The Arsenal. She’d only consented if Bree agreed to daily sessions via video conferencing. Three weeks instead of the month Bree had wanted.
It’d only taken a week for Bree to realize Sinclair had been right. Bree wasn’t a link in the chain because there was no chain. The Arsenal bond was far more formidable than a mere chain.
Even though a part of Bree had wanted to return to the compound immediately upon that discovery, she’d continued her therapy and remained at Grams’ mountain cabin because being away from The Arsenal’s ensuing chaos had given her the time she’d needed to plot. Plan.
I miss them all so much.
She’d return stronger and armed with a solid plan to take the remaining assholes behind Stan Carlisle out. Although she wasn’t a brilliant strategist like Mary, or a phenomenal hacker like Vi and Zoey, she was a damned good planner because she never thought inside the box. No, she moved into an entirely different stratosphere where nothing was impossible.
She just needed to create whatever was needed to make the plan work. Tech solved any problem, and she was the best at making anything necessary.
A soft knock on the tiny bedroom’s door dragged Bree from her thoughts. “Come in.”
Lars entered and clicked the door shut behind him. His gaze swept the room and landed on her computer. “Sorry to bother you, sis, but we might have a si
tuation.”
“What?” She dragged her computer closer. “What’s happening?”
“That alarm you set up in the living room chimed three times, all within a minute.” He fisted his hands. “Someone’s making their way up the mountain, moving in fast.”
Shit. Bree grabbed her cellphone and cursed. “I missed calls from Zoey. I had my phone on silent and forgot to switch it back.”
“What’s the plan?”
Bree wasn’t dumb enough to think she could formulate a good plan if whoever was making their way up the mountain was a bad guy. That’s why she’d set up all the drones—to give herself time to call her friends. The ones she’d run away from.
God, I was so stupid. Why didn’t I listen to Sinclair?
“Finally!” Zoey shouted by way of greeting.
“Someone’s coming up the mountain.” The words came out jumbled together. “Help.”
“Deep breath, sister,” Zoey said, her voice calm. Even. “It’s friendlies. The Triple Threat is coming to bring you home where you belong.”
Ramon, aka one-third of the Triple Threat. Her pulse quickened at the thought of seeing the tall, dark, and sexier-than-legal operative who’d slid onto her radar back when Zoey’s ordeal was going down. No. Earlier than that. Although they’d flirted with one another on occasion, they’d both maintained their distance. She hadn’t wanted to explore a relationship with so many threats against those she loved looming on the horizon.