TREX Special Director Dan Weber sat off in the corner, staring at his reflection in one of the giant silver balls decorating the tree. Maybe it was a mistake bringing several of his senior agents together like this. He had hoped bringing them together would, well, bring them together. The team dynamics had taken a dive the past couple years. The tension had never been higher.
And it was his fault.
He needed to be a better director but didn't know how. Hell, he'd never been much of a leader. He preferred to work alone. That way he wouldn't have to argue with SACs, deal with pain-in-the-ass agents, or bury his best friend.
It was his fault the team had fallen apart. They couldn't even spend a single evening together without it turning into WWIII. He'd done nothing but bark at everyone, glare at them when he couldn't think of anything to say, or simply ignore them. No wonder they were at each other's throats. That's exactly how Dan directed.
He slid his lids closed and leaned his head against the wall as he sat on the floor. This had sounded like such a great idea when he'd pitched it to Malcolm McKoy. With threats multiplying like rabbits, TREX needed to be more proactive in the agency's approach. Homeland Security had already beefed up several of its units. So had the FBI, CIA, and numerous other alphabet agencies. TREX used to be the forerunner in everything and had fallen behind. They were privately funded, so he couldn't use budget concerns as an excuse.
It was him.
Which brought him full circle to why he'd wanted them all together. Dan and Malcolm both agreed to expand the agency. Vic Greene, the guy signing their paychecks, had approved the new org chart. The board had signed off on bringing in more agents.
Now he had to inform his senior agents they'd be losing agents to other teams, gaining new agents to train, and even sending existing agents back to Gahanna, TREX's training camp, to learn new skills.
His SACs knew. Since David knew, that meant Charis knew. If Charis knew, the rest of the McKoys knew, too. Judging by the way Wayde kept stealing glances Spencer's way like he wanted to say something but didn't know how, he knew, too. It was time to tell the rest of the group which, ironically, left his wife as the last person to break the news to.
As Dan opened his eyes, he was surprised to find the kid sitting next to him. How'd he sneak up on him? Was he losing his touch? He'd always been able to bank on his ability to sense danger, read people, and pull miracles out of his ass. Why was the kid just sitting there? It bugged the shit out of him not being able to read this one.
"Can I help you with something?" he finally asked when the silence grew deafening.
"No." He stared at the presents under the tree.
Ah, hell. This kid would wake up on Christmas morning and watch as everyone else opened presents, not having one damn present of his own. No kid should ever wake up to that. Dan made a mental note to change a few of the names on the packages so Hunter had something to open tomorrow. The generic gifts he'd gotten for most of the agents could easily be given to a twelve-year-old.
Which said something about the gifts Dan had picked out. Actually, he hadn't picked them out. He'd asked JT to grab a handful of gloves, scarves, and hats. Jesus, even his gift-giving sucked ass.
"Buster thinks there are lots of presents," Hunter pointed out as he played with one of the ornaments.
"There are lots of people," Dan bounced back. "I bet Santa will leave a few for you under the tree."
Hunter shook his head. "I know the secret."
"What secret?"
"There's no Santa. Carmen told me. That's the other reason why we never had a tree. We couldn't pay for presents to put under it."
What the hell? Who tells a kid there's no Santa? And no tree? No presents? What was his sister thinking taking all that away? They didn't need money to get into the Christmas spirit. The tree symbolized the spirit. The presents were a celebration. They didn't have to be anything fancy. They didn't have to be perfect. They just had to be. The rest would fall into place.
The epiphany hit him like a brick and twisted in his gut. He didn't need to force the teams together. He didn't have to be a perfect leader. He just had to lead. The rest would fall into place. How did he not see it until now?
He needed to stop micromanaging every damn find. He trusted his SACs and needed to trust them to make the right calls. That's why he had them. They were his seconds, his friends. His family.
Hell, they were all his family. He trusted each and every one of the people here, even the irritable sheriff who hated TREX for tearing apart his family. Mitch was wrong. So wrong. TREX hadn't torn them apart.
Dan had.
He had to make this right. In order to fix what he'd broken, he'd have to play nice with the patriarch of the family. And he would. Hell, he'd buy Malcolm McKoy a damn fruit basket if it gained them an inch in the miles of ground they needed to make up.
Before he did anything for himself and his team, he needed to give Hunter Ramirez something to believe in.
"I happen to know Santa is real." He had to give this kid a reason to smile. Hunter had just lost his sister. He needed the magic of Christmas now more than ever.
"He is?" For the first time, the kid looked up long enough to meet Dan's gaze for only a few seconds, but it was enough. Hope shined in Hunter's eyes. Hope and restraint. He wanted to believe, but he didn't want to be disappointed. He'd already been let down too many times.
"I know him personally."
"You do?" His tone brightened.
"Santa is an honorary TREX agent, you know. He can find anything for anyone, anywhere."
"Can he find my sister?"
Dan's chest tightened. He dropped his gaze to regroup after that question. He'd never been any good at softening his words and struggled to find the right ones. "Hunter, do you understand why you're here? Why Agent Davis brought you here?" When his questions didn't earn a response, he added, "Do you understand what happened to your sister?"
"She died," he mumbled and rested his chin on his knee. Buster came over and sat in front of him, wagging his tail. Hunter scratched the dog behind his ears.
"Do you like Disney movies? Aladdin is one of my favorites."
"I like the genie."
Perfect. Dan nodded and went on. "Do you remember the rules for the wishes?"
"Can't bring back the dead." Hunter sighed. "I don't want Santa to bring her back. I want him to make sure she's in heaven. She gets lost."
"I'll deliver the message." Ah, man. This kid tore at Dan's heart. Yet, even though gut-wrenching, Hunter had referred to himself instead of the dog. Progress.
They sat in silence for a while, Hunter focused on Buster while Dan glanced around the room. It was getting late. Kat held a wide-awake little girl. Her husband had already put their son to bed and looked ready to collapse. It had to be exhausting running after a four-year-old who ran from a two-year-old all day. It pained Dan to no end knowing his daughter already had a crush at her age, and on Spencer's kid.
Charis and David had disappeared with their boys, no doubt to get them to sleep. The adults would more than likely turn in as well. Ever since the kids came along, the parents crashed earlier and earlier. Dan had found himself happily turning in at the same time as his daughter regardless of the time. This adulting shit was hard.
Chris sat on the couch, rubbing Bethany's swollen belly. They were damn happy despite the hand fate had dealt him after that find almost a year ago. Thanks to the piece of glass that had sliced through his spine, he'd never walk without forearm crutches or a cane again, when he walked at all. Half the time, he was confined to the chair. That put chasing after a kid in the not gonna happen category. Bethany was going to be one busy woman. At least Chris had his brother Mitch as his physical therapy coach. The PT instructor Chris had to help him relearn to walk was a hard ass, but Mitch put him to shame.
Bailey and Kaylee had resumed their card game, this time with the other women joining in. Seth and Logan sat on the opposite end of the table with their paren
ts, losing to them in a game of team Trivial Pursuit. The occasional bullshit sounded, this time by the very ones glaring at the word earlier.
Wayde stood off in the corner, talking with Mitch. They were both law enforcement and clearly had reservations about TREX. Mitch had never made it a secret how he felt about the covert retrieval agency. Wayde, on the other hand, had come to TREX for help, not the other way around. They'd wanted his partner, not him. That didn't make him any less of an agent now.
"Are you the boss?" Hunter asked, his attention at first on Buster then shifting to Dan.
"I am."
"You and that man." He nodded at Malcolm McKoy.
"That's right." How the hell did the kid know that? "You must have seen us talking earlier."
"No." After a silence that nearly had Dan chipping his teeth from grinding them, Hunter added, "No one talks to you."
What the hell was that supposed to mean? "I was talking to a lot of people earlier."
"No."
Goddamn this kid's one-word answers. Would it kill him to talk a little more? People needed more than one word and grunts.
Ah, Jesus. That was exactly what Dan had been giving his team since forever. They needed more. He needed to give them more. The epiphanies kept coming.
"They talk. You order. They don't like it."
"Then why don't they say anything?"
Hunter looked at him. "You're the boss."
Son of a bitch. If his team couldn't talk to him, they were all in serious trouble. This kid had a good eye and even better perception when it came to reading people. Dan was impressed. He shoulder-bumped Hunter and nodded at Spencer, half-asleep watching some old black-and-white show. "What can you tell me about him?"
The beagle settled at Dan's feet. Hunter hinted at a grin as he petted the dog. "He wants a family."
"He has a family," Dan countered.
Hunter shook his head. "He wants more."
Okay, fine. He'd buy that. Spencer had always been scared to settle down and have kids for fear Kat would one day get the call that changed everything. Being in spec ops was more than dangerous. It was terrifying, more for the spouse than the agent. His dad had died in the field, forcing his mom to raise Spencer on her own. It scared the hell out of him at the thought of Kat ever being forced to keep his memory alive through stories and pictures.
"Before it's too late," Hunter added.
Dan's heart stopped as he riveted his eyes to the kid. He couldn't hide the horror in his voice as he asked, "What do you mean?"
"He's sick."
"What?" he barked, turning several heads. He stared down each and every set of eyes before returning his attention to the kid. "How sick?"
Hunter shrugged and frowned.
Dan wanted to scream for him to say more. Now he knew how it felt when he talked to his own team. Damn it. He hated epiphanies. Absolutely hated them. Never again would he leave any words out of the conversation when it came to his team. His family. They deserved every word he had. If that wasn't enough, he'd learn more.
"How do you know he's sick?" Dan pleaded, not bothering to hide the fear in his voice. It tightened all of his muscles and had him panting to breathe.
Hunter lifted his gaze. "His eyes look like my mom's before she died."
That's when Dan saw it. Spencer's eyes hadn't been their usual smoky intensity. He seemed to tire easily, more easily than usual. Although he set his jaw and talked the talk, he didn't seem to quite walk the walk lately.
Ah, hell. Dan recognized the effects of chemo when he saw it-now that he knew what to look for. Why the hell hadn't Spencer said anything? He swallowed down the grief at watching yet another person close to him literally go through the battle of his life. Just as Dan's mom had. She'd lost.
Spencer wouldn't.
He made a mental note to be sure his second-in-command knew he had the entire TREX family behind him. No one should ever battle cancer alone. As long as Dan had any say in the matter, Spencer Allen would never be alone.
"Him?" Dan motioned at David as the guy raced through the living room searching for something. Once he found a pacifier under the table, he placed it in his mouth and shuddered. Dan knew the feeling. There had to be a better way to clean a binkie.
"He doesn't want to miss anything."
Interesting for a man who never missed a thing. David had the keenest eye Dan had ever seen. "Like?"
"He can't keep up."
"I don't understand." Which was a phrase he didn't hear himself saying all that often.
"Too many details. Details make it hard to keep up."
Again, it made sense in its own way. David hated to miss anything and spent way too much time combing through every detail instead of looking at the big picture. They were the perfect yin and yang since Dan only saw the bigger picture and failed on the details.
This kid was on to something. "What can you tell me about the rest of the people you see here?"
Hunter focused on Wayde and Mitch in the corner. "They don't like you."
Great. Just what he needed. Not exactly a confidence booster. Mitch he didn't much care for, but Wayde had started to grow on him. He wouldn't be adding him to his will any time soon, but he'd chosen the man's house to spend Christmas. That said something even if Dan hadn't.
"They do," the kid said with a nod to the players of the card game. He regarded the Trivial Pursuit players. "Them, too."
"How do I win them all over?" He sounded so pathetic asking a twelve-year-old kid how to manage his own team.
"Talk."
"Talk?" A concept absolutely foreign to Dan. "I don't talk much."
"You talk to me."
Son of a bitch. The kid made perfect sense. He cut through all the clutter and bullshit when no one else could. "Know something? You're pretty smart for a kid."
"That's what Kaylee said." He shrugged. "I'm not smart. I'm just Hunter."
"I'm pretty sure they mean the same thing. Any other words of wisdom?"
"It's Christmas."
"I know. That's why we're all here."
Hunter looked at him. "Is it?"
Goddamn. The kid kept nailing him with points so profound, they almost hurt to hear. "I wanted to bring them together to discuss the expansion of the agency."
"Why Christmas?"
"Why not?" Dan countered.
"Because it's Christmas. That should be why you're all here." After a long pause, he added, "I think Christmas presents is spelled wrong."
Dan thought about that. Should it be Christmas presence? The more he let that sink in, the more sense it made. Christmas was more about the gift of being together rather than the gifts themselves. "Do you think society has had it wrong this whole time?"
"I don't get society."
"Neither do I, kid." He sighed and leaned so their shoulders rested together. "Neither do I."
FIVE
Merry TREXmas (TREX) #9 Page 4