Chapter 15

Chapter

Fifteen

PATCH

" W e need a kill list."

I turned that statement over several times as I settled in behind the computer screen. The fact I "knew" all the logins and security challenges quieted some of the earlier unease. I tended to use a series of different passwords for different things. They followed a pattern, but it was a kind of pattern that usually only I could follow.

The squirrel code worked for me because I would set the passwords based on my mood. The only set of codes I could have used for this particular setup had to be tense and annoyed. Kind of like when I was PMSing. Sure enough, the codes worked.

Four layers of encryption. Each layer required a new passcode. The first set the pattern for the rest. No single one I used formed any kind of phrase. They were the result of gibberish, or mental rhymes I created based on the numbers, letters, and symbols. I used all of the above along with varying the upper versus lower case letters.

If nothing else proved what they'd told me, the fact my codes were here, unfiltered and ready to work, did. Did I test to make sure that it wasn't just any password being used? Yes, yes I did. It wasn't about not trusting them, so much as not being able to fully trust myself.

Midway through doing a full system check, I paused. It really wasn't them that I didn't trust. Somewhere in all of this, I had begun trusting them. If I hadn't, I'd never have gone to bed with Locke. My body hummed at the memory. There was a distinct, sensual ache between my thighs and I had to fight the urge to clench everything.

It had been long enough since I'd been intimate with anything beyond a toy, that I'd forgotten how good an enthusiastic round of sex could leave you. Endorphins for the win. Follow that up with Remy's hedonistic promise and the intense look in McQuade's eyes and my core temperature seemed to rise.

Rubbing a hand against the back of my neck, I tried to blot out all the arousing images cascading through my mind. I needed to focus on the tasks at hand.

First task… track down Section Five. They were the ringmasters of all my problems. It wasn't just the employees of the organization. Many would be a great deal like I'd been, fooled into believing we were working for the country. It would take too long to convince them otherwise, or I'd attempt that.

If I hadn't discovered the discrepancies and started to put the disparate puzzle pieces together on my own… Would I have believed anyone else bringing me this story? As much as I hated to admit it, I didn't think I would.

I sighed just before a single drag-step alerted me to someone behind me. Glancing up, I found Remy's even gaze resting on mine. He also had a cup of coffee in hand. The smell of it wrapped around me like a lover and I indulged in an inhale to savor it.

With care, Remy set the large mocha—oh the chocolate was heavenly—with its rich foam and cream atop it, down on the desk next to me. I wrapped my hand around it and let the warmth chase away the apprehensive chills rippling through my system.

Pulling up a chair, Remy joined me. He didn't have a coffee of his own, but then he did prefer tea. "I hope you guys installed a kettle on board."

"We did," he said easily enough. "I'll make a cup in a bit."

I sipped the coffee, then chased the whip cream off my lip with my tongue. The heat in Remy's eyes tracked the motion and sent another shudder through me. "You should get some sleep."

"You first." The volley was easily returned. While I might have not had a lot of sleep, I suspected that neither Remy nor McQuade had gotten any at all.

"I sent McQuade and Locke to take some rack time. Three hours…" He consulted his watch. "It'll be dawn by then. One of them can drive and I'll get some sleep in."

That still seemed like a long time. Rather than comment, I took another sip of the coffee. It was— I closed my eyes and just let the coffee fill me. It was damn near perfect. Not too sweet, more than warm enough to get rid of the ice reality left in its wake.

That and it was just good .

"Want to tell me what the really long sigh was about?" Remy asked when I finally stopped making out with my coffee. I was more than half-done. It definitely tasted like more.

"Thinking about how stupid and foolish I was," I said. "I know we need to track down these heads of Section Five. You guys want a list. Finding the directors will be harder than the worker drones. I flirted with the idea of turning one of the drones. But I wouldn't have believed anyone bringing me this story. It's too far-fetched and wild. It sounds like something from television or a movie."

"That doesn't make you foolish," Remy chastised me lightly.

"It does when it's based on blind loyalty."

"You trusted them," he said, pressing on as if I hadn't disagreed with him. "In the field… you have to trust your handlers. Your eyes in the sky. You have to give them everything and put your life in their hands."

The intensity in those words arrested me and I twisted to look at him. All I found in his eyes was a kind of dedicated solemnity.

"Working in intelligence is the same way. They recruited you when you were young and impressionable."

When I would have argued, he covered my hand on the coffee mug with his.

"You were young. You were in college. They courted your intellect. When you are being sought for the very skills that could bring them down, you don't look for a trap. Why would a shadow organization bring in people who had no idea what they were doing for real?"

It wasn't an unfair question. Letting go of the cup, I clasped his hand. "I just—I hate that it took me so long to see it. How much blood is on my hands because I did what they asked of me without question?"

"Did you do it with no question at all? Or did you wait until they'd given you enough evidence to trust that you could believe them?"

This time, the sigh that left me seemed to deflate everything. I cut my attention from him to the screen once more. It scrolled through the interior programs I had running. Sniffers to make sure nothing had been installed that I didn't want, as well as details on the drives I'd connected.

Yes, I had set up the system. Didn't matter, I always verified everything now. Triple verified if I could.

"I don't want to fall into another trap," I admitted without looking at him. "The holes in my memory could be one, easily. You guys could be another. Except…" I didn't sigh so much this time as pause to regather my thoughts. "Except I do know you."

Now I looked at him again.

"I know you and McQuade and Locke. I've known you for years. The three of you didn't know each other. You never worked jobs together. Except on very rare occasions, you have not been in the same cities on assignment or otherwise."

"So what does that tell you?" He'd begun to stroke the side of my hand with his thumb. The action soothed, but it also helped to keep me grounded. I probably shouldn't be leaning on them so much, but the last thing I wanted to do was pull away.

I chewed the inside of my lip, trying to examine it from all angles. "You met because of me."

"Correct," he said with a single nod.

"You guys are only working together because of me."

"Also correct."

A faint smile curved my lips. "You don't much like each other."

To that, Remy shrugged. "What I know about them? I like. McQuade will die for you. He will also kill. That makes him a good ally. Locke?—"

The hesitation now seemed far more pronounced.

"Locke?" I prompted.

It was his turn to give a faint smile. The lighting cast his face half in shadow. It was as though I saw both sides of him, the dark assassin and the cheerful man who enjoyed dry teasing.

"Locke is not a killer. He has no interest in becoming one, but he goes right into the fight if given no other choice."

Now that intrigued me. "If he is given a choice?"

With the faintest of snorts, Remy turned my hand over so he could trace his thumb over my palm. "During our hunt for you, we needed to gather information from an installation. McQuade and I were going to go in, take it by force. Locke went to relieve himself, but didn't return immediately. Instead, he just let himself into the building, got the drives we needed and got out without a single shot fired or anyone noticing."

The grudging admiration was harder for him to hide. The description also sounded so much like Locke. "He loves to pit himself against security systems, the more challenging, the better. His mind never stops working, and he could sell sand to a desert dweller with his charm."

"You care about him," Remy said softly. "Don't you?"

"Yes." That wasn't so hard to admit. Even when I thought to soften it or at least bury it, I didn't want to. "I care about all of you. That makes you dangerous to me."

Eyebrows raised, Remy gave a sharp, negative head shake. "None of us would ever harm you."

The absolute conviction in that statement told me more about his trust in the other two men than anything else. In his opinion, they would never hurt me. They would protect me. They would keep me safe. Not him. Me.

They were so very dangerous for me.

Particularly when I wanted to lean into the devotion. I studied the way he stroked my palm.

"Too much?" The question tugged my attention upward once more.

"No. Yes. I don't know." Each answer came out definitive until the last. Amusement crinkled the lines at the corners of Remy's eyes.

"As long as you're sure."

I chuckled. "I'm not sure of much. I'm struggling between what I want to believe and what I can believe. Then there's all of you."

"What about all of us?" The steadiness in his voice eased away another of my concerns. Maybe it was the accent, the crispness in it just seemed refined and yet no nonsense. At the same time, I could listen to him all day.

"I do know you," I said softly. "I've worked with all of you for years."

"But?" he prompted, still drawing slow circles against my palm. The contact eased away the tension and left pleasurable shivers to trace through me.

"But that relationship has always been predicated by having a phone line and sometimes more than one ocean between us. It's different to be with you now."

That might be putting it poorly.

"Different bad? Or different good?" Before I could respond though, he nodded to my coffee. "And don't let that get cold. You don't like cold coffee."

I wrinkled my nose at him. Not that he was wrong. I really didn't care for cold coffee in the slightest. "Different, I'm not sure yet." Still, I picked up my coffee with my free hand. The warmth penetrated my fingertips and reminded me of how chilled I'd grown. "But…"

I paused to take a sip, while also turning my answer over in my mind.

"Not bad," I finally admitted. "Definitely not bad. I may not know what to do with all of this—all of you." That wasn't entirely true. After having sex with Locke, and Remy declaring he wanted me to enjoy having sex with him, I had a few ideas.

The problem, however, was that no matter how great sex was—it didn't fix everything. It could only up your endorphins and maybe give you time to figure things out. Worst case, it just delayed the resolution.

"You don't have to make any decisions at the moment." The gentle acceptance in Remy's words and voice buoyed me.

"Not totally true," I said, meeting his gaze.

"As true as it needs to be right now. No one is going to force you to make any decisions you don't want to make or aren't ready to make. No one will ." Or they would deal with him.

I squeezed his hand in wordless thanks. "I need to get back to work." As lovely as this discussion was… "We can't let them keep setting the tone." So far, I'd been fighting defensively.

"No, we can't." With that, Remy dropped a kiss on my head. "I'll bring you more coffee in a bit. Two hours, no more than that. You also need to sleep."

I made a face at him.

"Please," he added. "You need to rest or we are all going to worry more." All the fight went out of me.

Fine. "Two hours," I promised, then pulled my hand from his grasp and turned to face the monitor once more. I could do a lot in two hours.