I noticed one of the other guys near the grill. “Do you need any help with that?” I asked, walking over to see what he was cooking.
“We’ve got steaks, chops, and chicken.”
“What are you serving with it?”
The man at the grill looked at the other guy, and they both shrugged.
“Tell you what, I’ll go to the dining hall and bring back some stuff to go with all that meat.”
I was loading everything when my cell buzzed with a text.
I’m sorry I screwed up.
Reading Paxon’s words almost brought me to tears. He’d tried to apologize several times, and while I’d said I accepted it, I really hadn’t. And why not? I was dancing with another guy when he left—even if it was just Paco, who was practically like another brother to me. If he’d done the same thing to me, I probably would’ve left too.
I’m sorry I screwed up too, I texted back.
You’re forgiven.
So are you. BTW, I’m on my way there now.
Can’t wait to see you.
When I walked in, our eyes met, and we both smiled. I wished so much that I could sit down and eat with them or, better yet, that he and I could leave and go someplace we could talk.
I’d just gotten to the dining hall when my cell phone rang.
“Where’d you run off to?” Paxon asked.
“You looked busy.”
“Not busy anymore.”
“No?”
“I was hoping we could talk, Flynn.”
“I’d like that. Where?”
“Easiest if you come to me. If you don’t mind.”
I was in my work clothes, my hair was its usual mess, and I probably smelled like potato salad. “Give me an hour?”
“See you then.”
27
Irish
There was no question whether what I was about to do was a bad idea. I already knew it was a terrible one, but Flynn needed to understand why I reacted in certain ways to certain things and to realize my foul moods had nothing to do with her.
“Hi,” I said when she knocked on the cabin door and I invited her in.
“Hi.”
“You look nice.” Her cheeks flushed and she thanked me. When I offered her something to eat or drink, she refrained from both. I’d cracked open a beer right before she arrived and poured it into a glass.
“Thanks for coming over,” I said, motioning for her to take a seat on the sofa.
“Is whatever you’re about to tell me something bad?” she asked.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It’s more fact than bad.”
Flynn folded her hands on her lap. “Okay.”
“Nine years ago, I watched three agents die when they were gunned down during what should’ve been a routine op.”
Her eyes were wide. “I’m so sorry.”
“When it happened again and the agency’s response didn’t make any sense to me, I began an investigation of my own. What I discovered was there were too many similar happenings.”
“I’m just going to get a glass of water,” she said, standing.
“I won’t go on if this is making you uncomfortable.”
“It isn’t that. I just need a drink.”
“I can’t tell you how often I say the same thing when this topic of conversation comes up.”
She smiled and sat down on the sofa after setting her glass on the coffee table. “Go on. I’m sorry I interrupted.”
“As I was saying, the agency’s response baffled me. In each case, the mission during which the agents were killed was swept under the carpet as if it never happened. Which, of course, made me suspicious. Cope was my handler at the time, so I eventually went to him, and for several years, he and I conducted an investigation outside of the agency and without the agency’s permission.”
“Is that why you were arrested?”
I shook my head. “No, that was a planned part of the mission, one intended to throw the real double agent or agents off in the hope they would act again and we would catch them.”
“Did that happen?”
“To a certain extent, yes. What we discovered right before we arrived here at your family’s ranch is that while many of the people who were involved had been arrested, there were still more out there who haven’t been.”
“Okay.”
“Stella is an investigative journalist who may have a lead on the rest of the players. We’re here because it is a safe place for us to continue trying to find the rest of the perpetrators as well as figure out what was behind the deaths. With every day that goes by and we don’t do that, more agents’ lives are at risk.”
“And you feel personally responsible for that.”
Her intuitive response didn’t surprise me. “That’s right, and there are times when it consumes me. It’s impossible for me to separate myself from this mission in order to have what anyone might consider a normal life.”
I turned my body so I was facing her. “Do you have any questions so far?”
“Not really. I’m used to Buck not being able to talk about his work.”
“This is more about me personally than work, Flynn. I want you to understand why I’ve been inconsistent with you. I think you’re very pretty, you’re intelligent, and I enjoy spending time with you.”
“But?”
“I have no business getting into any kind of relationship with anyone.”
She scooted forward on the sofa.
“Please don’t leave.”
She nodded but didn’t scoot back.
“I’d really like for us to be friends. I’d like to spend time with you when we’re both not working, but I need you to understand that friends is all we can ever be and that has nothing to do with how much I may want more.”
“I really need to go.” When she stood, I saw tears in her eyes. I stood too and pulled her into an embrace.
“I’m sorry. I truly am. I’d like to say that once this is over, I may be able to think about relationships, but I sometimes wonder if it will ever be over.”
Flynn took a step back and wiped her tears. “I feel like a real idiot for crying.”
“Don’t. I cry too.”
She smiled. “Thank you for being honest with me.”
“Whoever your next relationship is with, he will be a lucky man.”
When she scoffed, I figured now wasn’t the time to ask why.
“I meant what I said about us being friends. If you need someone to talk to or just feel like hanging out, I’d like to see more of you.”
“I’d like that.”
“Promise?”
“Yes.”
“Good, because…I’m going to have a couple of days off and was wondering if we could plan some things.”
“Like what?”
“How do you feel about horseback riding?”
She laughed. “Feel about it? That’s like asking how I feel about walking or breathing; it’s just something I do.”
“I never have.”
“I could make arrangements for you.”
“Will you be with me?”
Flynn rolled her eyes. “Yes, Paxon, I’ll be with you.”
Going off the ranch was harder because of my detail, but we were able to schedule dinner after our ride the next day. The one where I made an absolute jackass out of myself. My self-deprecation over not being able to control the horse—the most mild-mannered one they had, according to Flynn—resulted in her getting the giggles more than once.
“Would you mind if we went somewhere a little farther away to eat tonight?” she asked when we returned the barn.
“Not at all. Where are you thinking?”
“There’s a drive that goes from Crested Butte over Kebler Pass toward Aspen. There’s a restaurant near the top in a place called Redstone. It’s also a beautiful drive.”
“Sounds good to me.”
We left at four even though our reservations were at six, just so we could take our
time and enjoy the scenery. Ink and one of the other contractors went with us.
“This is the largest grove of aspens in the world,” Flynn said when we drove beneath the miles-long canopy of trees.
“I bet it’s spectacular in the fall.”
She beamed. “Nowhere else in the world is better.”
I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d ever have the opportunity to see it. Part of me hoped I’d be long gone by autumn because our mission was finally over. Another part hoped I’d still be here.
It didn’t take long to get to Redstone, so we decided to take a walk on one of the trails before dinner.
“Are there any bears around here?” I asked when we were a quarter mile into our hike.
“You really aren’t much of an outdoorsman, are you?” Flynn asked.
“Not so much.”
“To answer your question, yes, there are black bears in these mountains; however, they usually keep their distance, and so do we.”
With Ink leading the way and the other guy following, I doubted any bear would be able to get to Flynn or me, which made me wonder if shooting them was legal.
We didn’t see many people on the trail. In fact, just one, but there was something about the way the guy, who appeared to be in his twenties, looked at Flynn that I didn’t like. What’s more, she reacted.
“Is that someone you know?” I asked when I believed we were far enough away that he wouldn’t hear me.
“Just someone I went to high school with.”
“I take it he wasn’t a friend.”
“No one was,” she mumbled. “Can we change the subject?”
None of us said anything for quite a while, not that the two bodyguards would have. Finally, when we reached a clearing and I saw there was a small lake, I asked if we could sit for a minute.
When I believed Ink and his teammate were far enough away that we could talk privately, I asked what she meant.
“High school wasn’t a fun time for me. I didn’t have a lot of friends. Actually, I didn’t have any friends.”
“Why not?”
“I was bullied a lot.” She took a deep breath and stood. “I’d rather not talk about it.”
“We don’t have to.” I looked at the time. “Should we head back?”
Flynn didn’t answer, but she did walk toward the trail.
Given we were going downhill rather than up, it took us half the time to get back to the inn and resort where the restaurant was. We were still an hour early, so I went inside to see if we could bump up our reservation. From the hostess’ stand where I waited, I could see the guy we’d passed in the woods working behind the bar. I hoped his being here wouldn’t ruin Flynn’s evening, given she’d had such a strong reaction to seeing him.
“I have a table out on the veranda if you’d like. Are there four of you dining with us this evening?” the woman asked, looking out to where Ink waited with Flynn.
“Just two.”
As I’d anticipated, Flynn stiffened when she saw the bartender. I’d intentionally walked between her and the bar, not that it helped.
We were the only diners in the place this early, so when the man said, “Hey, heifer,” under his breath, I could hear him loud and clear. Based on her reaction, she did too.
“What did you just say?” I asked the man.
“Paxon, don’t,” Flynn whispered.
I might’ve done as she asked if the guy hadn’t come around the bar. “I recognize you from the news. You’re the guy they arrested for spying for China.”
Ink moved closer while Flynn grabbed my arm and pulled me in the opposite direction and out of the restaurant.
“Figures the cow would hang out with the likes of you.”
When Flynn flinched as though someone had physically assaulted her, I spun around on the guy and drew my hand back to punch him, but Ink got between us.
“Out,” he said to me under his breath. “I’ll handle this. You get Flynn to the SUV.”
I did as he asked, knowing that if I ignored him, I’d only be making his job more difficult.
Flynn put her face in her hands once we were in the vehicle. “I’m so sorry.”
I pulled her hands away. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“I ruined dinner.”
“You didn’t ruin anything. The asshole guy behind the bar did.”
“Can we please just go?”
I saw Ink on his way to the car. I’d ask him later what happened with the bartender. Flynn already felt bad enough.
I suggested we eat somewhere in Crested Butte when we came down the mountain and drove through town, but Flynn said she’d lost her appetite and just wanted to go back to the ranch.
I wished there was something I could do to make her feel better, but the harder I tried, the more she retreated into herself.
When a few days passed without my being able to reach her, I asked Buck about it when he came over to my cabin about something else.
“I don’t know much about Flynn’s high school friends since I’m so much older than her. Holt might, though.”
“Why’d you stop over?”
“Right. Burns Butler is next door and wants to brief you and Cope on something.”
Nothing could’ve prepared me for what the man told us.
28
Flynn
It was all I could do to come out of my bedroom, let alone get dressed and go to the dining hall. What I really wanted to do was disappear into a black hole, never to be seen again.
I’d never been so humiliated in all my life, even when it happened every day at school.
Paxon heard that asshole Trent call me a heifer. Every time I thought about it, I was sick to my stomach. Trent had made it even worse by saying he recognized Paxon from the news.
Why had I suggested we go to Redstone? That was an easy answer; because I’d thought there’d be less chance of running into someone I knew. Of course, the opposite would happen. Not only had we seen someone I knew, but that person had to open his mouth and let all the ugly shit I’d grown up with spew out of it.
Paxon had tried to contact me several times, but I ignored him. I didn’t want to talk about that night. I wanted to forget it had ever happened. Talking to him, seeing him, would only remind me of my utter embarrassment.
29
Irish
When Cope and I went inside, Stella, Buck, and Burns were sitting in the living room. Decker was patched in via video-conferencing on one of their computers.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” I said to Burns, reaching out to shake his hand.
“It’s an honor, Mr. Warrick,” he responded. “I’ve learned of your bravery from our friend Mr. Ashford. Yours as well,” he said to Cope.
“Where is Ali?” Decker asked him.
“Lying down. She isn’t feeling well.” Both he and I looked back at Burns when he cleared his throat.
“I believe what you’re about to read may hold some of the information you’ve been seeking.”
Buck handed Cope an envelope that he passed to me. “You go first,” he said. Before opening it, I looked up at Stella, who appeared hopeful.
The bulk of the report was about Kim Ha-joon, the South Korean secretary-general of Interpol, who wasn’t South Korean at all. The name he was currently using was one of several known aliases. His given name was Chen Wang-Su, and his father had worked in Chinese intelligence for many years. He was a known associate of Ming Shen-Lin—a Hong Kong citizen infamous in intelligence circles and rumored to be a double agent if not triple.
It came as no surprise to me that China would maneuver one of their spies into Interpol, only that it took us so long to figure it out.
I felt a sense of relief at knowing that China was involved. This was the proof. I wasn’t crazy or paranoid or grasping at straws, not that anyone had ever suggested those things. I’d wondered it myself.
“As Buck said earlier, the current Interpol executive team knows exactly who he is,
” said Decker.
Burns leaned forward. “This serves as nothing more than a warning.” He looked directly at me. “You, better than anyone in this room, understand the risks involved in continuing to pursue what we all now know to be Operation Argead. The global reach of this organization is infinite, and they are backed by the most powerful nations in the world, each with their own agenda.”
“Understood, sir.”
When Burns stood, I did too. “Come with me.”
I followed him out to the porch, where Ink waited in one of the SUVs.
“When this is over, I’d like to invite you to visit me at Butler Ranch.”
“I’d be honored, sir.”
“I’ll put you under advisement that my wife, Sorcha, will want every last detail about your mission, but she will reward you with some of the best food you’ve ever eaten, not to mention my son and daughter-in-law’s wine.”
Hearing those words from Burns, a man I’d admired from a distance the entirety of my career, buoyed me as I went inside after thanking him.
As I closed the door behind me, I saw Decker’s computer screen go dark. There was too much tension in the room for it to have been him ending the video chat.
“What’s going on?”
“All Decker said was that he received word from Casper that something had gone down.”
Within a few minutes, he called back. “I don’t have all the details, but it’s bad. I’m leaving for Ireland now. I’ll be in touch after I’ve assessed the situation.”
“Do you need backup?” Buck asked.
“I’ll engage Rile and see who we’ve got over there.”
Two days later, we still hadn’t heard from Decker with an update about what was happening in Ireland, but a nasty storm had moved into the Crested Butte area, causing flooding throughout the valley where the ranch was located. Fortunately, there had been no damage reported to any of the Roaring Fork structures, at least as of yet.
Irished (The Invincibles Book 7) Page 12