by Cara Carnes
Ram grabbed two pieces of pecan pie.
“You’re good with her,” Jesse said into the silence. “She’s going to need that strength.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good.” Jesse grabbed a piece of chocolate pie. “May I offer you some advice?”
“Please.” He gripped the tray. “I have no clue what I’m doing. I should keep my distance and give her the time she needs, but another part of me wants to…” Hold her close and never let go.
He’d been crazy to keep his distance after Zoey’s shit went down. The attraction between him and Bree was palpable, a living presence that’d taunted him for too long. “I’m not what she needs right now.”
“You are,” Jesse said. “More than you’ll ever know. Trust your gut. Be the sounding board she needs. Listen to whatever she shares. Be her sanctuary.”
He could do that. What had she shared with Jesse? “Thanks. For whatever she was thanking you for.”
“She wasn’t ready to share her dark with her friends. She likely won’t be for a while,” the man whispered. “I’ve been there. I may have been the first guide post, but I suspect you’ll be the one who matters. You are her Ellie.”
Fuck. Ram’s gaze swept to the woman who’d taken on Jesse’s demons in a war only she could wage. Could he do what the amazing woman had done? Yeah.
“To fight her shit, you’ve gotta let go of your own,” Jesse added.
“I’m solid.”
“You haven’t been solid since you arrived. We’ve given you three in the Triple Threat the distance you wanted because you have each other’s backs, but at some point, you’ve got to let someone else in. Especially Bree. It’s a two-way street, man.” Jesse grabbed a bottle of water. “Levi had my six from the moment he dragged me out of that pit, but Ellie broke through because she trusted me to fight alongside her against her demons. You’ve got a choice. You’re either her Levi, or her Ellie.”
He couldn’t give her the dark past he’d barely escaped. Hell, he’d only given Doug and Pierce chunks of it because they’d witnessed more of it than he cared to remember. Bree deserved better than Ram. “Not sure she’s ready for that. No one is.”
“Then start that battle with Sinclair’s help. Doug and Pierce have had your six, but you won’t escape whatever you’re running from until you’re ready to face it.”
“I’m not running from anything.” The lie slid out easily enough. How many times had he told himself that? Too many. “I appreciate the advice, but I’m solid. This is about Bree, not me.”
Jesse studied him a moment. “When you’re ready to stop lying to yourself, I’m here.”
Fuck.
Ram let the man walk away. He took a few deep breaths and willed the unwanted memories away. He’d escaped his past and moved on. That’s all that mattered.
Happiness filled Bree as she started on her second piece of pecan pie. Revelry surrounded her from all directions as her family and friends got to know one another. This was what she’d been missing the past three weeks.
She was halfway through the massive slice when chimes and beeps sounded around her. Mary, Vi, Zoey, and Jesse dragged out their phones and read the screens. The latter’s lips thinned. “What does this mean?”
“No clue. It’s not something I set up,” Zoey said. “Vi?”
“Don’t look at me.” The woman shrugged and set her cell down.
“It’s an airstrike warning,” Mary said. “I didn’t set it up, but HERA’s warning us that an unknown plane or chopper is within strike range of the compound.”
Uh oh. Bree wiped her mouth and cleared her throat. “So, remember when we chatted about making this area protected airspace?”
All gazes at the table shifted to her. She powered on. “I kind of made that happen. A few people I knew had the power to push it through. Everyone was either in Russia or focused on that mission, so I put everything into place around the established zone so HERA could warn us if it was penetrated.”
Marshall’s jaw twitched as it always did when she shared something she’d done or created. “So this warning is telling us someone is flying in that zone?”
Mary handed her cell over. Bree read the warning. “HERA’s set up to alert us only if the flight pattern would put them directly over The Arsenal. Someone’s intentionally ignoring the protected airspace indicators.”
“Are we sure they had indicators?” Jesse asked.
Bree nodded. “Two people I know high up in the FAA saw to it personally since they owe me more than a few favors. My weaponry alone gave us what we needed to make it happen. We’re armed more than most military bases.”
“We are?” Zoey asked. “How so? We don’t have tanks and those missile thingies that can hit planes.”
Bree shifted in her seat. “We technically do have those. Or, more advanced versions. We also have biochemical compounds and seriously advanced drones. We’re a veritable silo.” She shrugged.
“What do you mean more advanced versions?” Dallas asked.
“I think she’s talking about Bertha,” Jud said. His brow furrowed. “That’s what you called her, right?”
Bree couldn’t believe the former assassin remembered the cannon’s name. It’d been a brief conversation moments before the nightmarish battle where he’d singlehandedly laid waste to an entire squad of hitmen sent to kill one of her best friends.
She grinned. “Yeah, she and her two little sisters. Martha and Matilda.”
“You’re talking about the laser cannon,” Marshall said. “I didn’t realize it was still operational.”
Bree shoved her fork into the pecan pie. “I may have installed her atop the hangar while a lot of you were in Russia. I started thinking about how we’d defend the compound from an airstrike. So, I talked a few commandos into helping me get her up there. Then I put Martha and Matilda in other locations to have a protective triangle around the area. You know, just in case.”
Zoey laughed. Mary and Vi both shook their heads and chuckled. Rhea reached across the table. “Why didn’t you tell us? We weren’t in Russia. We were here and could have helped you.”
“You were all busy with the mission. There was so much going on it slipped my mind,” Bree admitted. “Then I had the freak out to end all freak outs.”
“So…” Cord dragged the word out as he looked at his phone. “What are we supposed to do with this warning?”
“Great question,” Mary said. “Bree?”
“I programmed a few options into HERA. It’s in her testing area, along with those new EMF drones and a few other things I might be working on. I’m not a programmer like you all, but I did my best.” She set her fork down. “HERA will send warnings to whomever the pilot is if you green light it.”
Vi opened a laptop and started typing. It took less than two minutes for her to lean back in her chair and whistle. “Damn, Bree. This is good. Are those warnings legit? Like, is this really protected airspace now?”
“Yep, six months for now. Permanent is pretty much impossible to obtain, but there are a few different types of airspace, as you all know. We have options,” Bree said. “And no one can countermand them.”
“Not even Bob,” Zoey said with an evil grin. “You, girlfriend, are brilliant. Okay, what do we do to warn whoever this is?”
“I’ve already green lit it,” Vi said. “Though, I don’t think we should use Bertha to shoot them down. Let’s move her down to step five instead of three.”
“Sure. Whatever you think,” Bree said. At least they weren’t telling her it was a stupid idea or lecturing her on going rogue. While she was the first to admit she thought too outside the box at times, she hated when those around her looked at her as though she’d lost her mind whenever she mentioned something she’d created.
“You okay?” Ram asked.
“Yeah.” She looked over at her brother, who wore a concerned expression. “I’m thinking I’ll have to explain what I do to my family, though.”
> “They don’t know?”
She shook her head. “It’s never come up.” Because she’d avoided any conversations about her work. That wasn’t something she’d wanted them to worry about.
Vi put on a headset and clicked a few buttons on the laptop. HERA’s computerized voice filled the mess hall. “You have entered restricted airspace and must adjust your flight pattern immediately. Refusal to do so will result in immediate action.”
“Get Lexi up,” Marshall ordered as he stood. “Get teams in position throughout the compound.”
“Huh,” Vi said. She glanced over at Bree. “You put up drones to cover all potential flight patterns through the area. How did I miss you doing that?”
“You were really busy,” Bree commented. Everyone had been very focused on the Russia mission.
“I figured we’d want eyes on whoever it was so HERA could identify them,” Bree said. “Again, I’m not you, but I did what I could. Sorry I forgot to mention it.”
“That’s okay. This is smart,” Mary said. “Very smart. We should’ve made this a priority a while ago. Thank you for picking up that slack.”
“Whitehall chopper, this is The Arsenal,” Vi said. “You have entered restricted airspace. State your intentions or adjust your flight pattern immediately.”
“Not happening,” a man said. “I’ve been hired to deliver someone to you, and I’m doing that. There’s no way you’re restricted airspace.”
“Asshole,” Zoey muttered. “Are you sure we can’t use Bertha?”
“Whitehall is a small, privately run chopper service out of Dallas,” Mary said. “Former military run it. That’s all HERA has until we get facial recognition going.”
“Let them land,” Marshall ordered. “We’ll secure them.” He paused two steps from the table and looked at Bree. “Good work.”
Warmth filled her chest as the first compliment the man had ever given her settled within the room. She nodded and shoved her unfinished pie aside. “We should probably get to the hangar. Grams, Lars…I’ll catch up with you later?”
“Certainly.” Her Grams patted Momma Mason’s hand. “The kids and I were going to go meet all her grandbabies. You do whatever you must.”
“I think I’ll join you,” Lars said.
“Next time,” Jud said. “Why don’t I give you a private tour of the compound and fill you in on a few things?”
Bree held her breath as her stubborn brother glared at her from the other side of the table. Please go with Jud. She chanted the plea in her brain.
“Sure.” Lars stood. “You and me are having a long conversation later, sis.”
4
It took less than five minutes for three teams to surround the landing pad outside the hangar. Bree had Bertha activated via her tablet in case she was needed, but she suspected the armed commandos would handle whoever was in the chopper.
The black beast landed with a rougher landing than Lexi ever did. The chopper pilot stood a few feet away, kitted out to take off if needed, not that Bree expected a dogfight—especially since the helicopter currently landing was unarmed.
Relief filled her when she noted its seemingly innocent exterior. Maybe whoever this was was just an idiot and not a threat. Another problem was the last thing The Arsenal needed.
The chopper’s inhabitants were dragged out before the blades stopped turning. The pilot was slammed to his stomach and secured with plastic restraints. The lone passenger was shoved to his knees. He interlaced his fingers behind his head and laughed.
“I take it he didn’t call ahead like he promised.” The man’s thick English accent punctuated each word. “My identification is in my back pocket.”
“That won’t be needed,” Mary said. “Your pilot flew into protected airspace.”
“Bloody twit,” the man spat angrily. “Apologies. I should have rented a car and driven here myself, but he assured me you knew him.”
“He lied,” Vi said. “Who are you?”
“Gavin.” The name slid from Bree’s lips as she took a few steps forward. The man’s pale blue gaze latched on to her. “I don’t know his last name, but he was with British Intelligence. He was my handler when I…” Yeah, she wasn’t supposed to talk about that. “What are you doing here?”
“We need to have a chat,” the man said. “Gavin DuBois. Former SAS.”
“You’re with Knightwind,” Mary said. She glanced over at where the Mason brothers huddled together. “Black Ops group. Privately run. They work mostly within Europe, but sometimes find their way here.”
“You’re better than even I expected, Edge.” Gavin glanced at Vi. “You must be Quillery. I’ve looked forward to formally meeting you both. You probably don’t remember, but you pulled me out of a situation a few years ago.”
“What are you doing here?” Marshall asked.
“We need to have a conversation.” Gavin’s gaze landed on Bree again. “A private one.”
“Not happening,” Ram growled. “Keep your eyes off her.”
Gavin’s amusement sounded in the tense silence. “Very well. You’ve made some very powerful people extremely nervous. A few of them think the lovely Bree is here under duress. Others don’t care and want her. Their reasons vary, but none will end well.”
Her pulse quickened. Ram shifted his stance once more, putting himself fully between her and Gavin. She set a hand on Ram’s back. “I’m okay.”
“Up.” Marshall barked the order as Nolan dragged the operative to standing and shoved him forward.
Dallas prowled into the pilot’s personal space. “What part of restricted airspace didn’t you understand?”
“You aren’t protected airspace,” the man accused. “No way.”
“Eric Whitehall,” Zoey supplied. “You’re in a heap of trouble.”
“Yeah, right.” The man’s gaze roamed down Lexi, then moved to Rhea. “Though, I will enjoy the entertainment while I wait. Which of you ladies would like to go first?” He leered at Lexi a moment. “You’re definitely my style. Come on, sweetheart, I’ll show you how to fly. I see you eying my bird. You a wannabe? Show me a good time and maybe I’ll take you up.”
Asshole.
“You’d best get that verbal diarrhea under control before one of our men rip out your intestines and choke you with them,” Zoey said.
“Take our visitor to the whiteboard room,” Mary ordered.
“And this asshole?” Gage asked as he shoved the pilot.
“Keep him out here,” Vi said. “Have a team look over his chopper. HERA’s digging into him and his company. We’ll decide later.”
Bree pulled up the contact information on her tablet. She fired off a text to one of her FAA peeps.
Bree: A pilot just ignored the protected airspace. What can we do with him?
Jay: Killing isn’t an option, for the record.
Bree: Smartass.
Jay: Like it didn’t cross your mind.
Bree: He’s an asshole.
Jay: Name?
Bree: Eric Whitehall, works out of Dallas. I can give you more in a minute.
Jay: That’s enough. Give me five.
Bree smiled. Ram chuckled beside her. “What?”
“That’s your I-just-did-something-good grin,” he teased. “What are you up to?”
“Nothing much. Yet.” She shrugged. “I’m just doing my part. I guess Bertha wasn’t needed.” She sighed loudly. “That’s too bad. I really wanted to see what she could do.”
“We missed your brand of crazy,” Doug said as he dragged her into a side hug. “You match ours perfectly.”
Bree clung to the banter between the two men rather than think about why Gavin had shown up. If he’d come all the way from Europe, it wouldn’t be good. Dread clawed her insides, but she focused on the friends surrounding her. They’d get through whatever was about to hit. Failure wasn’t an option.
Moments later, she sat in the same seat within the whiteboard room she always occupied. Ram sat beside her. Ga
ge glowered but moved to a different chair. What had once been a small, forgotten room when they’d first arrived at The Arsenal had become the most used room within the building, outside what she called Command Central, where Mary, Vi, Zoey, Cord, Jesse, and Jacob ran missions.
A slight buzz within the room told her they’d put some of her newest soundproofing tech to work. She smiled. At least some of her ideas were well received. She hadn’t realized how much their doubt of her creations bothered her until she’d started sessions with Sinclair. The psychiatrist had told her she’d need to talk to them about it, but now wasn’t the time.
There was never time.
Gavin sat across from her and Ram. His intense scrutiny pricked her skin.
“Keep looking at her like that, and you’ll leave in a body bag,” Ram warned.
The man smirked. “I see things haven’t changed much. There’s always someone who’ll stand at your side.”
“What the fuck?” Gage grabbed the man by the neck. “That’s the last time you insult her.”
“Not an insult, I assure you. Merely an observation.” His voice lowered. “Things haven’t changed much, have they, Bree?”
“You know him,” Ram said. “How?”
“It was a long time ago.” Not long enough. “I took an overseas assignment, my first one. Addy didn’t want me anywhere near it because Mary and Vi couldn’t get much in the way of intel on the organization. Back then, I ran every opportunity by them first.”
“You took it anyway,” Addy said. “It took me three months to track her location and get her out.” The woman glared at Gavin. “This asshole was her handler, for lack of a better word, though jailer explains it better. Once someone signed on to work for Knightwind, they didn’t get out until they’d gotten everything they could from them.”
“My employer’s methods aren’t accepted by everyone, but they’re successful.” Gavin held up his hands. “I do what I’m told. I’m sure everyone in here has been there before.”