“I like the way you think, lady.” He flashed Cam a grin around an unlit cigarette. “Your idea is good, but I like hers better.” He started typing.
Audrey gave Cam a smug smile, which made him grin. She’d lost her business, been shot at, and was now in hiding, yet she was strutting because Zack chose her topic to research before his. What a woman.
“Make sure your face masks are secure and don’t forget: never swim alone, folks, because we’re about to dive and go deep.”
Cam watched his buddy’s fingers on the keyboard for a few moments, while his mind sifted through his emotions regarding Audrey. He hadn’t met a woman yet that could tempt him away from being a soldier for life, yet more and more, he found himself thinking about her. That hadn’t happened before and he, in typical analytical fashion, needed to know why it was now.
Was he tired of his job, looking for an excuse to do something else? He didn’t think so. He hadn’t been this into a case in a while. He wanted to get to the bottom of what Brett was working on and stop it before it grew into a monster. So why did he find himself thinking more about Audrey than terrorism plots? What was wrong with him?
Leaving his thoughts, which were only confusing him more, he found Audrey leaning over Zack’s shoulder, her chin practically resting on it, while they looked at the screen. He scowled before he could rein in the emotion. What the hell had happened while he’d been woolgathering? Those two were so cozy he’d have trouble sticking a crowbar between them.
“Okay, here’s a forum known for terrorist activity. Why don’t we just go scrolling along, see if anything jumps out at you?”
Having worked counterterrorism before, Cam had been on the Dark—or Deep—Web before, but it still was unsettling to see child porn or weapons and drugs, all on this web like most people searched for furniture or clothing on the World Wide Web. He would never be immune to Man’s depravity.
With both Zack and Audrey scanning the topics, Cam sat back and thought about what had happened so far on this case since he’d arrived in California. A group of soldiers had been ambushed and killed, Audrey’s house had been broken into, and her shop nearly burned to the ground. His hunch that Audrey had something Brett wanted was panning out. By hiring someone to search her place, it showed Brett was getting desperate. Doing so had enabled him to search her shop and, in a fit of rage, his former friend had set it on fire when he didn’t find what he was looking for. But what was it? She’d said she’d searched her place, so what were they overlooking? And how did it tie into the four dead soldiers?
He looked at the woman Brett had threatened to kill at his court martial, the one at the center of this case. Audrey’s dark hair spilled loose over her shoulders as she peered at the monitors. Her neck was long and graceful. Tiny silver hoops glinted at her delicate earlobes. He caught the faint floral fragrance he already associated with her, even though Zack’s damn cigarettes overpowered it at the moment. She was purely feminine, yet stronger emotionally and physically than many men he knew.
Audrey teased him out of his regimented habits. He wanted to get to know her better, maybe figure out why she was able to get past the walls he’d put up. But first, he needed to discover what she had or knew that Brett was desperate enough to come after.
He sat forward in his chair, looking over Zack’s other shoulder while his friend slowly scrolled the forums. “Are there any dialogues about something that needs to be retrieved?” Something they’d be willing to break into a home or burn down a business to find. “Maybe hiring someone to do the retrieving?”
Zack’s finger stilled on the mouse. Audrey leaned so that she could look at Cam. “This isn’t Craigslist, Cam.”
Both men grinned. Cam continued. “Trust me, I know that. But Brett escaped and came straight to you. After what he said at his court martial, we know he didn’t return out of undying love.” She made a face. He disliked bringing up that nasty business again, but he had to emphasize Brett’s intent. If his former friend was this desperate, it had to be important to him, which meant it was important to Cam. “He has to be looking for something. Something you have, even if you don’t know it. And it looks like he, or the people he’s working for, might be sending someone else to do the dirty work, based on the break in.”
“Are you thinking whatever they want is insurance?” Zack piped up.
Cam shrugged. “Maybe. Records of his info sales. Or jobs he completed.”
“Or upcoming jobs?” Zack’s voice was soft, his implication clear.
Audrey jumped out of her chair and strode to the fire. She stared into the flames, body rigid. Cam shared a look with his buddy. They both remained silent. She needed to come to terms that the guy she’d fallen for, slept with, laughed with, was probably up to his eyeballs in terrorism, if not in charge of the whole deal.
“I know you think I have something, but I really don’t see how that’s possible.” She spoke to the fireplace. They had to lean forward to hear her when her voice dropped to a whisper. “It’s hard to believe Brett would kill Americans. He loved the uniform, what he stood for. What we all stood for. How could all that change?”
Cam stood up, moved behind her. He placed his hands on her upper arms. She flinched, yet the slight sway of her body told him she accepted his comforting touch. He didn’t like the way his heart bounced in his chest. He was getting too invested in this partnership, and not in a professional aspect. He needed to keep his head in the game. But the softness of her skin beckoned him to caress it. He dropped his hands to his sides and addressed her comment.
“Brett does love his country. I agree with you. Maybe he loves it too much.” Jimenez had been a hard loss for all of them. It had sent Ross to a desk job and Cam to a career switch. Perhaps losing Jimenez had eaten at Brett until it became a cancer that overtook his patriotism and heroism. Maybe it had devoured everything good within Brett, until all that was left was a vindictive shell of a man.
Cam didn’t say any of this. He couldn’t articulate the dismay, disappointment, and overwhelming sadness he carried for the loss of his team and one-time best friend. He’d never been great with words. The difficulties began after his dad was wounded during the first Gulf War. He’d taken his life on Cam’s tenth birthday, drifting to sleep on too many pain pills while Cam’s birthday party was going on in the backyard.
He’d buried the horror of that year as he’d grown older, deceiving himself into thinking he’d dealt with his dad’s death well by pushing the memory further and further into his subconscious. By the way he struggled with consoling words, as well as second-guessed his motives and desires now, he hadn’t done such a good job of coping with what had happened after all. It was another pain meant to be stifled within a soldier’s stoic demeanor. Or leaked out to an Army shrink who might recommend pills and treatment that affected overall job performance and advancement. Instead, he offered the Cliff’s Notes version of the pain he and the others lived with daily and silently hoped no one discovered the quiet suffering he and others strove to ignore.
Audrey had turned her head a fraction, listening, waiting. He pushed forward. “Brett’s seen death. People close to him have died in battle. Maybe the GUWP approached him, told him about how the current world political climate needed a major reset. That they could end the rise of fascism with enough like-minded recruits. The theory sounds great. I could see someone who blames the death and destruction he’s witnessed on himself grasping at the GUWP’s solution.”
She faced him, big green eyes searching his expression. “But to lead an attack on training soldiers? Murder the good guys? I don’t get it.”
He met her gaze directly. “I don’t, either. All I can think is maybe Brett didn’t see himself as working for the good guys anymore. If you don’t agree with what your leader asks of you, wouldn’t you be quick to snap up a counterargument that suits your beliefs? Isn’t that how terrorists work, feeding on the weaknesse
s of their possible recruits?”
She nodded slowly, the gears in her brain working through the words he said. He offered her another option, one he didn’t really believe, but he owed her complete transparency. “Or maybe he was in a financial bind. Brett was always buying gadgets, wasn’t he? Maybe he got in debt too far, learned he could make extra money—”
“By having soldiers killed? He was a soldier, for crap’s sake!” She sucked in a deep breath, wrapped her arms around herself, and began shaking her head. “I’m done for the night. My mind can’t bend around anymore puzzles. I need a shower and a bed.”
She marched down the hall without ever looking back. Cam knew, because he watched her the whole way. When she disappeared from view, he turned back to the computer and found Zack studying him.
“What?” Cam schooled his face into a frown.
“You tell me, buddy. Besides that rather eloquent description that shocked the hell out of me seeing as it came from you, the way you look at her spells a bigger disaster for this project.”
“Bullshit. I’m concerned about her, that’s all. There’s a lot going down right now.” He pointed at the monitors, anything to throw Zack off the scent. Did he really have a certain “look” whenever Audrey was around? If so, then Zack was right—this would be a disaster, but not for the reason his friend suggested. Cam didn’t do relationships, and Audrey didn’t seem eager to jump into the dating pool, either. Shit, what kind of look did his face get, anyway?
Zack burst out laughing. “Bro, this is me you’re talking to. You’re interested in her, and from the looks of it, she reciprocates the feeling. But right now, she’s not in any position to fend off any moves you make. She turned in her ex, and he’s trying to kill her. She’s having to process the fact that he’s now a traitor and she was in love with him. That’s some heavy shit she’s dealing with, so you endeavoring to get in her pants isn’t good timing. Just sayin’.”
“I am not.” Cam slouched into the chair he’d vacated. He’d forgotten how intuitive Zack had always been. It pissed him off that his friend could see right through him. He was interested in Audrey that way. But then Zack was wrong. Cam wouldn’t make a move on her now, in this situation. Probably.
Zack skewered Cam with a surprisingly hard stare. “Whatever, bud. You can take my advice or not. That’s all it is. But, remember, I have a little extra knowledge on how soldiers react to stress.”
Aw, shit. Cam had forgotten Zack’s own battle with the mind-bending tricks of the spy trade. He’d been Army PSYOP trained and deployed, excelling in the psychological aspects of the war in Afghanistan. He’d been immersed in the culture over there, practicing their mind-think until he reached a point like a deep-sea diver who didn’t know up from down, right from wrong.
It was easy to forget about his experience because he took pains to bury the information deep inside himself. He didn’t talk about his training, what he’d seen or done. It had been his job to get others to talk. But Cam had seen him shortly after his discharge. He’d been a broken man. He’d gotten in too deep within the enemy’s philosophies. Deep undercover cops experienced the same sort of disconnect. Like many of them, Zack didn’t assimilate into normal life very well. His new wife divorced him, kept the house, and he’d gone off to the woods to lick his wounds. He seemed much better now, though Cam still wished he’d remembered his friend’s past.
Zack gave a quick drumroll to the desk and stood up. “I’m gonna take off. Are you gonna stay on this for a while longer? ’Cause if you log off, stay off for twenty-four hours or so. It doesn’t pay to show too much interest in any one thing. Capisce? Even if I have the best spookware around, there’s always somebody wanting to hack into it.”
Cam rose alongside Zack and shook his hand. Whether he agreed with his friend or not, Zack was really going out of his way, loaning them a place to hunker down and use his state-of-the-art toys.
“Thanks for everything. Even the ill-timed advice.” He stretched his back while Zack laughed.
“No problem. Keys are in the kitchen on a hook. Enjoy, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Yeah, yeah. Shut up and shove off.”
Zack saluted him and went out the front door, pulling it closed behind him. Cam locked it and then stood in front of the monitors. He needed to do some major research and get his mind off what Zack had said about him. Especially the part where he said Audrey was interested in Cam. That was No Man’s Land.
At least for the time being.
Chapter Twelve
Audrey stepped out of the steamy shower, thankful that Zack Addison was Cam’s friend. Although Zack wasn’t her type, she had to admire his choice of creature comforts. Plenty of hot water, a cave-like shower with dual heads and bench seat, and plush towels so thick you could get lost in them. She spent a lot of time wiping the water droplets off her skin. Why hurry a luxuriating task?
She wiped the mirror when she was finished and stared at herself. She looked as tired as she felt. They’d been on the go for two days, after the home invasion and the fire. Weariness had fueled her waspish behavior earlier. She knew it, but she wasn’t about to apologize. If she accepted that Brett was a mastermind of evil, what did that say about her? She was the one who lived with him, slept with him, made love with him. What kind of counterterrorism expert did that make her? A pretty damn bad one.
She changed the bandage on her arm, having managed to keep it dry during her shower. The wound looked clean, not puffy or oozing. She had some difficulty rebandaging it, but she wasn’t about to ask Cam. Not after all the fuss he’d given her yesterday about getting wounded. A small, feminine part of her liked his concern, even as the rest of her rebuffed it.
After pulling on some underwear and the sleepshirt and pajama bottoms she’d brought along, she combed out her hair before taking her toiletries and whatnot back to her room. She could hear the murmur of the men’s voices down the hall. As she reentered her room, she warred with the idea of going to bed versus returning to the great room and continuing the search for clues. If Brett had an ulterior motive, she wanted to figure it out.
She sat on the edge of the double bed, which she hadn’t yet turned down. Though she was physically tired, she knew if she turned off the lights, she’d lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and wondering what she might find on the Dark Web. It would be better if she swallowed her pride and returned to finish researching.
Padding down the wood floor hallway, she thought she heard Cam thank Zack for some “ill-timed advice” before the clunk of the front door told her his friend had left. Deciding to use that as her entrance line, she walked into the great room and asked Cam, “What bad advice did your friend give you?”
He froze. She counted several seconds before he swung around, rubbing the back of his neck like she’d noticed him do before. He was embarrassed. That piqued her interest. For the short time she’d known him, he always acted completely in charge and by the book. To be embarrassed had to be foreign to him.
She studied him while he searched for an answer that he thought she would accept. If she was tired, he looked ready to drop where he stood. His hair stood in unruly spikes, and his eyes were bloodshot. His fading bruises stood out like a graphic overlay upon his pale face. She realized that he’d gotten even less rest than her. He’d been on the go longer than her, having driven down from Washington state and bringing danger with him.
She couldn’t dredge up the required anger at him for embroiling her in this terrorism threat. That was really done by her long before, when she took up with Brett. It irked her, though, that she continued to make poor choices when it came to men. Although the one standing before her ticked all the boxes, especially the hot body requirement. Damn, but he had a fine ass in those snug-fitting jeans.
“That I could speak freely because you’d never eavesdrop.”
She had to smile at the comeback, considering ho
w tired he looked. “Good one,” she conceded. Circling toward the desk, she kept her eyes on him. He turned along with her. When she sat in the desk chair, he surprised her by taking a seat on the couch. He wasn’t going to second-guess her every move by sitting beside her at the computer. Nice.
She surveyed the monitors. Zack had left the DW up. Double nice.
“I thought you were tired. Or pissed.”
She shot him a look. He slouched on the couch, head tilted against its back, eyes closed, body relaxed. They both felt secure here. No need to be on guard. Well, not as much on guard. That training never went away completely.
Allowing a beat of silence, she responded truthfully. “I was. Both. But after a warm shower and clean clothes, which I highly recommend you take advantage of, I reconsidered. It would be easier to look for proof, and it seems that your friend knew I wouldn’t stay away.” She gave a nod to the monitors.
A gentle smile curved his lips upward, but his eyes remained closed. By her estimation, he was about thirty seconds away from a nap. Since she was the one reenergized, he obviously needed the shut-eye more than her. A deep sigh escaped from him. She was right. He was out. Now, to get down to business.
An hour flew by. Audrey had always been decent at digging up dirt on people, especially as it pertained to terror cells. This time she delved into forums generated by foreign and domestic dissidents, homegrown violent extremists trolling for like-minded insurgents on the DW. Wording was cautious, contacts nebulous, yet she knew she was in the right place.
She looked for familiar screen names, people she knew back in the day when this was her job. Most DW users changed their screen names regularly, but she was adept at figuring out their new handles. They often didn’t venture far from their first choice.
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