by CW Browning
I still might. What's so important that you had to wake me up and then hang up on me?
I need a favor.
Michael's eyebrows soared into his forehead and he reached for his coffee. Viper never asked him for favors. Viper never asked him for anything. Hell, he was half convinced that she would up and disappear one day without a good-bye, never to be heard from again.
What kind of favor?
Yes or no?
You want me to agree to something before you tell me what it is? Try again.
Michael sipped his coffee and watched the blinking cursor. She took a long time to respond, but finally the cursor began to move.
Where's your sense of adventure?
Michael's lips twitched and he set the mug down.
I left it in an elevator shaft in Baltimore.
It's that desk job of yours. You need to get out more. Get some fresh air. Ever think about mountain climbing?
I saw enough mountains in Iraq and Afghanistan. What kind of favor?
I need you to track down a truck for me. It's heading south, last seen at a weigh station just over the border of Maryland. I just sent you the tags.
Michael frowned and began to reach for his phone before remembering it was still on the side table, next to his bed.
What's in the truck?
A car.
Michael blinked and reached for his coffee again. Clearly the caffeine wasn't doing its job.
A car? What kind of car? WHOSE car?
'71 Hemi Cuda. It belongs to a friend. It was stolen.
Michael's brows snapped together in a frown and he stared at the screen thoughtfully.
Since you're asking me and not your FBI buddies, I'm assuming we don't want the driver apprehended?
Something like that. He's just a tool. I want the one who hired him. But right now, I want that Hemi before it disappears forever.
I'll take care of it. Is that all? You could have told me that over the phone.
The cursor blinked on the screen, immobile, and Michael frowned again. It wasn't like Viper to waste time. What was she up to? The minute turned into two and Michael reached for his coffee again. Either she was multi-tasking, which was the most likely explanation, or she was having second thoughts about the real reason she started this ridiculous chat session. Finally, the cursor began to move again.
There is something else.
Why do I have the feeling I'm not going to like it?
How's your ethical flexibility these days?
Michael stared at the screen as an involuntary groan escaped his lips. He shook his head and rubbed a hand across his eyes tiredly.
What the hell are you up to now, Lina?? God, Dave must be spinning in his grave.
I doubt it. Nothing ever fazed Dave much.
“That's what you think,” Michael muttered.
What do you want me to do that would be ethically questionable?
I need you to dig up some information for me. You can't go through your usual channels. You have to be very discreet. No one, and I mean NO ONE, can get even an inkling that you're poking around.
Michael shook his head and finished his coffee. All of his instincts were screaming for him to tell her thanks but no thanks. She had top secret clearance. Hell, Viper probably had access to information the POTUS himself didn't know! So why was she asking for his help?
And if they do?
Game over.
Michael sucked in his breath. Well, she couldn't be more clear than that. Get caught and get dead. Simple enough.
Others have tried?
Yes.
Michael stared at the screen, his lips pressed together grimly. He knew he shouldn't be surprised. She was an assassin, after all, and even they had their limitations, especially on friendly soil. However, he was surprised nonetheless. Why come to him? Why not go through her own organization? If she couldn't risk getting the information herself, why not ask the mysterious Charlie to get it for her? Why come to him?
Why me?
Michael asked the question at the forefront of his mind, shrugging to himself. It couldn't hurt to ask.
Because I trust you, gunny.
Michael stared at the words and his pulse jumped despite himself. She didn't trust her boss? What the hell was going on? As soon as the thought came into his head, he shook his head. If Viper didn't trust her boss, she wouldn't still be here. She'd have disappeared without a trace and without a goodbye. So why couldn't she take it to him?
Well, I guess I appreciate that, even if there is a high likelihood of it getting me killed.
Don't get caught and you won't get killed.
Comforting. Thanks.
I wouldn't ask if I wasn't confident you could do it.
And what am I doing, exactly?
Michael caved with a sigh. He would evaluate his own stupidity later, but right now Alina needed him and he promised Dave he would always be there when she needed him. There was never any real question as to whether or not he would do it.
Remember the money trail you found to the Engineer from Homeland Security?
Vividly.
This is more sensitive, and not as easy to find. Same idea, though. I need you to find everything this person doesn't want found.
Michael frowned.
Money? Accounts?
Everything. Money. Sex. Lies. Kids. Everything.
Michael ran a hand through his hair, then sighed.
Who's the lucky person?
The cursor didn't move for a long moment. Finally, instead of words appearing, a link to an image file appeared. Michael clicked on it and watched as a green bar displayed the progress of the image loading. When it hit 100%, a photo filled his screen.
Michael's jaw dropped open and his blood ran cold as he stared at the all-too-familiar face.
Are you out of your mind?!?!
Not according to my last psych eval.
It's impossible. Not gonna happen. I was willing, Lina, but this is insane.
For a Marine, you sure whine a lot.
Michael spluttered and stared at the words incredulously. She'd lost it. Viper was out of her mind.
You do realize what you're asking? It's not just about the ethics. It's about loyalty. Hell, it's about bloody Patriotism. This is about a goddamn war hero!
Are you finished?
He shook his head and stared at the picture again, his mind clamoring to process what she was asking him to do.
You're going to owe me big for this one.
Gunny, if you come through on this, anything you need is yours.
Michael raised an eyebrow and shook his head again. He closed the photo and let out a long sigh.
Don't think I won't hold you to that.
How's the work on Trasker coming?
Michael threw his hands up in the air.
How the hell did you know I was working on that?!
Common sense. You find connections and make sense out of money trails. It's what you do.
It's slow. Very slow.
What's the hold up?
Michael rubbed his eyes and shrugged to himself.
Without a subpoena for the internal records, I'm sifting through years of public data. Chris is working on it, but it will take longer than I'm willing to wait.
How much longer?
At least a week, most likely more.
That's too long. Do the best you can.
I am. What about you? Any luck with the travelers?
I'm waiting for the green light.
Michael frowned and paused before answering. He wasn't happy about the way things were heading, and he was even less happy about Alina being neck deep in it, regardless of how capable she was to handle it. He knew he couldn't help her, but there was someone who could.
Is the SEAL ashore?
He's landing in a few hours.
Relief mixed with a pang of envy washed through Michael. While he definitely felt a little jealousy towards Damon Miles, Michael was realistic enough
to accept that he was probably the only person capable of handling Viper. He was also the only other person alive who Michael trusted to have Alina's back.
Well, that's something, at least. Tell him if anything happens to you, he'll have to answer to me.
Duly noted. Will you be working from home all day?
That's the plan.
I'll be in touch later for an update on the truck.
With that, the cursor flashed and the black screen disappeared. She was gone.
Michael shook his head and closed the laptop. He picked up his empty coffee mug and carried it back into the kitchen for a refill. So much for going back to sleep. As if digging through Trasker wasn't enough, now he had to find a truck hauling a stolen Hemi Cuda.
“There's not enough coffee in the world to keep up with that woman,” he muttered, pouring a full, hot cup.
He had to, though. Too much was at stake. He had to prioritize and get it all done.
And who the hell did the Hemi Cuda belong to???
Chapter Forty-Four
Alina leaned against the banister and watched as the maroon Mustang rolled to a stop behind her Jeep. Stephanie got out of the driver side and looked across the lawn.
“You got my message?” she called.
Alina nodded and picked up a black cloth messenger bag, holding it up.
“Sorry it's so early,” Stephanie continued, closing the door and starting across the grass. “I figured you'd be up and I wanted to come by while Blake was in the shower.”
Alina raised an eyebrow.
“In the shower?” she repeated, amused.
“Yes. I told him I was running out for half and half,” Stephanie said.
Alina was silent, watching her with dark eyes lit with amusement and lips twitching at the corners.
“It's not what you think,” Stephanie told her quickly. “I didn't want to be alone last night.”
“Mm-hm.”
Stephanie flushed red as she reached the steps to the deck.
“He slept in the spare room. Nothing happened.”
“Pity,” Alina finally spoke. “I like Blake for you.”
Stephanie's mouth dropped open in amazement.
“What?”
“I am interested in your life, Steph,” Alina told her. “I may not show it, but I am.”
“But....you never even ask if I'm dating!”
“Because I know you're not,” came the calm answer. “Why would I ask something I know the answer to?”
Stephanie shook her head.
“How do you know I'm not...you know what? It's too early for this,” she muttered. She held out her hand for the bag. “Is everything I need in here?”
“Yes.” Alina handed over the black bag. “There are two in there. They're magnetic. The tablet in the bag already has the software loaded for them. Everything is ready to go.”
“Thanks.” Stephanie slung the bag over her shoulder. “I appreciate it. If they're magnetic, are we sure they’ll hold?”
“They'll hold.”
Stephanie nodded and turned back toward the driveway. She took two steps, then paused and turned back.
“How's your hunt going?” she asked.
“I'm waiting for a green light,” Viper answered after a second of hesitation.
Stephanie studied her for a moment.
“I know it's no use asking you to be careful,” she finally said, “but please take care of yourself. I've already lost one friend. I can't lose another.”
Viper stared at her, her mask in place.
“Just find out where those bombs are heading,” she replied, “and don't worry about me. I've got a plan.”
“That's what scares me.”
Viper stepped into the house and slid the door closed behind her, flipping the lock. Her lips were pressed together in a thoughtful frown as she moved through the living room and down the hallway toward the stairs at the front of the house. Stephanie had come to her for tracking devices instead of going to her own agency. That alone illustrated how her old friend felt about the Bureau just now, but why did she want them? Was she going to tag one of the driver's cars? That seemed the most likely reason. She was going behind Blake's back, so clearly she didn't think he would approve. Viper was somewhat impressed Stephanie seemed willing to bend her precious laws a bit, especially at the risk of dragging Blake Hanover down with her.
Alina's lips twitched as she moved up the stairs. So Blake spent the night last night, did he? She was glad. She suspected that John's death still hadn't fully hit her friend, and she didn't want Stephanie alone when it did. At the very least, Blake would be a shoulder for Stephanie to lean on when the storm hit.
The amused look faded from her face and Alina turned down the upstairs hallway toward her bedroom at the end. John. What on earth had he found to warrant an assassin? Viper pressed her lips together grimly. And who the hell was the mysterious stranger? With any luck, Matt would be able to get something off that sterile lab coat, but Viper wasn't holding out too much hope.
Anger, swift and hot, bubbled up inside her. Whether or not Matt found anything was really immaterial. Eventually, she would find him. Assassins didn't come cheap. It was only a matter of time before she found out who was paying the bills, and then she would find the nameless stranger who killed John.
Alina's hands curled into fists as a long-forgotten feeling of anguish tried to push through the fury. He'd been trying to tell her something the last time she saw him, trying to explain, but she didn't listen. If only she stopped and listened!
Alina strode into the master bedroom, her frustration mounting with each step. So many what-ifs! So many missed opportunities! She allowed John's killer to walk right by her in the corridor and, worse, he knew it! Viper was positive there had been recognition in that brief glance. Even if he didn't know exactly who she was, the killer recognized her on some level. That, on its own, was enough to make Viper livid. She should have seen it coming. Somehow, Viper should have been able to save John.
As soon as the thought came into her head, she tamped it down. There was no way to foresee any of it, not without the hindsight that came with those emails, and those emails had clearly come far too late.
Viper went into the bathroom and turned on the shower to let the water run. She had to stop thinking about John. There would be time enough later to focus on his killer. Right now, Asad took priority. She could almost hear Hawk telling her to compartmentalize and focus.
She turned away from the shower and pulled her phone out of her pocket to set it on the vanity. Damon would be landing in a few hours. For once, Alina wasn't afraid to admit to herself that she would be glad to see him. She needed to see his deep blue eyes and the hardened line of his jaw, feel his strong shoulders and smell his outdoor musk scent that she would always associate with him. She needed to feel the solid strength that so effortlessly fed her own.
As if on cue, her phone began vibrating across the vanity.
“Yes?”
Alina answered and walked out of the bathroom, switching off the shower faucet as she went. No point in wasting hot water while she was on the phone.
“Do you miss me yet?”
Damon's voice was rich and warm and Alina felt a delicious shiver go through her at the sound.
“Would you believe me if I said yes?” she asked.
“I don't know,” he answered. “Let's try it.”
“Ha! Where are you?” Alina asked instead.
“Crossing over the Labrador Sea.”
“That close?” she exclaimed, surprised.
“That close,” he agreed, amused. “I'll be landing in about an hour and a half. Anything I need to know before I step off the plane?”
“Nothing that can't wait until you get here,” Alina murmured, glancing down at her bandaged arm and sinking onto the bed. “How was your trip?”
“Eventful. I'm starting to get a better understanding of why you are the way you are,” Damon told her. “Nothing is ever e
asy with you.”
“Ironic, coming from a former SEAL,” she retorted, her lips curving. “You know how it is. If it was easy, anyone could do it. Did you get what I need?”
“I always have what you need,” he drawled, the amusement back in his voice. A shiver of awareness streaked down Alina's spine and she suddenly felt flushed. “If you're asking if I was successful, of course I was.”
“I love your humility, Hawk,” Alina murmured.
He chuckled.
“Just stating facts. What's our day looking like? Am I hitting the ground running?”
“Not right away,” she answered, glancing at the clock. “I'm still waiting on the go ahead.”
“You mean we might actually have some time to ourselves?” Damon demanded, surprised.
“I wouldn't go that far,” Alina murmured, leaning her head back against the headboard and closing her eyes. “Think more along the lines of unstructured time.”
“Hey, I'll take what I can get,” he replied cheerfully, “structured or not. Dinner?”
Alina's eyes opened at that.
“Dinner?” she repeated.
“Yes.” Damon was amused again. “It's an evening meal, usually at the end of a work day. I hear normal people go out for it together.”
“How unimaginative of them. Are you proposing we go out to dinner like normal people?”
“Actually, I thought I could cook for you,” he answered unexpectedly. “It won't be steak over a fire to rival yours, but I haven't killed anyone yet.”
“Well, when you put it that way, how can I refuse?” she said with a slight laugh.
“Good,” Damon said. “I'll stop on my way in and get supplies.” He paused and Alina waited, sensing there was more coming. She wasn't wrong. “We have a lot to discuss.”
Her heart thudded and she repressed a sigh. He was right, of course. Their relationship was forever changed now, and there was a lot that probably should be discussed if they were honestly going to attempt to make it work. If nothing else, John's sudden death had finally driven home to her the inescapable fact that life was short, and time was never guaranteed. It was better to start the way they wanted to continue, with open communication...no matter how awkward it promised to be for them both.