Chapter 14

UNDISCLOSED LOCATION, ABU DHABI, UAE

Crack! Pop-pop-pop!

"He's in the building!" Davis barked into his mic as he and Fury bolted across the sand toward a door Germaine had just disappeared behind.

So much for covert.

Fury had tracked the guy for over two hours before the team had all but walked into an ambush outside an industrial building near the Ba Al Ghaiylam area. It nagged at Davis that the tangos had been prepared for this. How had Germaine communicated his approach? They'd searched him thoroughly for any kind of communication device before his interrogation.

Zip. Ping! Davis ducked, the firefight raging around him, unyielding. Damocles continued to lay down suppressive fire. Gripping his M4, he steadied his breathing. Dug his boots into the loose ground. Locked his gaze on his partner. The air was thick with salt this close to the shore. Made everything sticky, including the door handle he yanked back on. Nazari right behind them, they slid inside. Fury shot forward and they followed, clearing the area as they ran.

Don't lose him.

Footsteps peppered the floor somewhere ahead. Retreating, not advancing. Germaine? Fury was getting dangerously close to slipping out of sight. Davis growled. Freaking—the RMWD was fast.

Movement above caught his eye a second before bullets sparked off the floor. He snapped his weapon upward and responded. Neutralized the threat and doubled down on his pursuit of Fury.

"Augh!" The masculine scream down a hall echoed in the air.

Davis slid to a stop at the corner. Did a quick check. Saw Fury with the arm of an assailant in his mouth. He pulled and tugged with deep growls.

Weapon up, Davis advanced.

The tango reached for a gun he must have dropped when Fury took him down.

Not today. Davis eased back the trigger.

Crack!

The tango's body went slack. Fury whipped his head side to side a couple more times.

"Out," he directed the shepherd.

Fury kept his grip for another few seconds before he decided to release.

"Seek-seek!" Davis gave the command.

The RMWD took off down the hall. Davis and Nazari checked the doors—all locked—as they hustled. When Fury skidded to a stop in front of a door on the right, Davis slowed to a stop, reading the shepherd's body language. "D'you find something, buddy?" he asked, more in hope than with proof.

After dragging in some deep draughts of air at the threshold, Fury clawed at the door.

Davis stalked forward, waiting for Fury to settle back. He flicked the handle with his nondominant hand and eased the door open. Angling for a better view, he traced the interior with his reticle. A small office. Empty. A desk sat in the middle, papers and file folders piled high all over it. A whiteboard on one wall had a hand-drawn schematic of . . . a missile? Half of it had been wiped off.

Fury dropped his nose to the ground, tail up. Beelined to a bookshelf at the back of the room. Pawed at one of the shelves before looking back at him.

"Give me a hand," Davis said. Slid his M4 behind his back.

"Yep." Nazari joined him and they each took an end.

At first, the bookshelf didn't budge, then something clicked, and it easily slid aside.

Nazari took point and entered. "He's here."

There, in the middle, Archie sat tied to a chair—unconscious. A dozen discordant elements pinged in Davis's head as he put Fury in a "down" and moved in to assist with the twerp. Not exactly how he'd expected to find this leader of a terrorist group.

This guy had supposedly been tortured, yet there was no blood on his clothes. Just dirt. Not how you'd expect to find a hostage. Was it a setup?

He assessed the twerp for a minute. Always had bugged him. But this . . . it wasn't right. Something was off. It hadn't been difficult to find him or breech the room. No one was standing guard, and if the twerp really were a liability—and not in on things—why not waste him before they engaged Damocles? It was sloppy work to leave him alone where anyone could capture him.

He eyed Nazari, whose furrowed brow suggested he was having the same thoughts. "Doesn't add up," Davis muttered. Sliding a pocketknife from his tactical pants, he looked around the room. Didn't see any cameras, but that didn't mean they weren't there. They'd need to be quick about this.

"Hey, man." Nazari nudged the twerp.

The kid moaned but didn't come to. The knot on his forehead said he'd probably been knocked out cold.

Davis slid the knife blade through the zip ties like butter.

The twerp pitched forward. Davis and Nazari grabbed him before he fell off the chair.

Another groan and this time Twerp's head lifted. "What do you want?" His reply was weak as he slowly lifted a hand in defense, and Davis noted one of his fingers was jutting out at an unnatural angle.

Okay, so maybe Archie being the mastermind behind all of this was off base. A curse rattled through Davis. Which meant they were back at ground zero. They'd better get hands on Germaine again, or it was his backside up a pole.

"Get off me," Twerp growled.

"Take it easy," Davis said to him. He keyed his mic. "Alpha Actual, package secure."

"Good copy," Chapel comm'd. Gunfire crowded his words. "Suggest you clear out. More unfriendlies inbound."

"We need to get Germaine back."

"We will. But not now. Head back."

Davis balled a fist. Cursed and turned to Nazari. "Let's go." While Fury paced the opening of the room, he knelt beside the chair supporting Archie and hooked the twerp's arm around his neck. His buddy did the same. Together, they hoisted him up.

"Hold up." He slid out his phone in the front room. Quickly took video of everything in the office. If there was any useful intel, he'd have a record of it. "Okay." He glanced down at Fury. "Fuss."

The RMWD snapped into position, and they hurried back the way they'd entered the building. Side-shuffled through the door into the deafening cacophony of war blanketing the night. Outside, the firefight was near deafening.

Shots flared against the night as they ran toward the rest of the team.

"Come on!" Chapel yelled. "Blank's about to bring the place down!"

Davis bit back a curse. Nodded to Nazari, and they hustled it toward the rest of the team. "Move move move!" Chapel took point while the rest of the team queued up at the rear so Davis and Nazari wouldn't get shot in the back hauling Archie away from the building. Legs aching, back pinching, Davis ran as fast as possible, each punishing step feeling too slow against a raging fireball.

One klick out, Chapel keyed his mic. "Blank! Drop it."

The familiar sound of the incoming suicide UAV neared. Blanchard guided the remote aircraft loaded with C4 overhead and into the side of the building at their distant six. The eruption shook the ground.

Booooom!

The concussion punched Davis in the back. He stumbled. Caught himself and shoved forward alongside Nazari. Gripping Archie's wrist, he hiked the guy's weight higher for a better hold and did his best not to faceplant and kill them all. Pain tightened his shoulder.

Archie sagged against them, weak. His feet dragged as they hauled him to safety. At his side, Fury gave a low whine—not liking the tension in the air, apparently.

Me either, buddy.

An intense wave of heat and debris lunged toward him and the team. A massive plume of wind obliterated the structure. Light from the fire lit their path. Screams of those unfortunate to be caught in the blast mixed with the creaks and groans of bending metal. Several chunks of shrapnel pierced the ground nearby.

Gritting his teeth, sweat sliding free of his helmet and down his temple, Davis pushed his body to the limit. Didn't slow. Didn't stop. Didn't look back.

The slow creep of dawn forced itself into the black night as the team reached the relative security of the safe house. Each step made his calves and back scream. His legs trembled as he climbed the steps. He and Nazari delivered Archie to the couch, and the guy slumped against the cushions, breathing hard. As if he'd just hoofed it five klicks in full tac gear carrying a hundred-and-thirty-pound sack of potatoes. Sweat beaded his forehead, pain written all over his face.

Good.

"Archie!" Hollyn rushed in from the command room, and trailing her—Hale.

Davis caught her before she could reach her friend. "Wait," he cautioned. "Let Glace look him over first."

"And you?" Her eyes searched his, voice quiet. "Are you okay?"

He nodded. Man, her concern for him felt good. "I'm fine."

She nodded while Glace strode over with her kit and got to work. The rest of the team subconsciously formed a half circle around the combat medic. If Archie so much as sneezed in her direction, he'd regret it.

Davis turned to his four-legged partner and ran his hands over the furry spine, hind legs, and forelegs. Verified there weren't injuries he'd missed. "Did good, buddy." He hiked back and tossed a KONG in the air. The landshark snatched it. Trotted to a corner of the room and plopped down with a huff to chew on the toy.

"I'm going to reset your finger," Glace said to Archie.

Grimacing, Archie nodded.

Hollyn pressed a hand over her mouth, flinching when her friend grunted in pain.

At her side, Davis removed his brain bowl, then laced his fingers with Hollyn's. Ran his thumb back and forth over hers while Glace splinted Archie.

The twerp smirked at Hollyn—something that irritated Davis to no end. "Hey, Hol."

"What happened?" she asked.

"That's what we're going to get to the bottom of," Chapel stepped in. "Benn, Macklin, take him to the hold."

"The hold?" Hollyn stepped forward. "Clearly he's not who you're looking for!"

"Hollyn," Davis warned. Now wasn't the time.

Benn and Macklin were already hauling Archie toward the hallway. And for the first time, the guy did something smart—he didn't fight them.

Fury neared, gaze intent on Hollyn.

She took a step away from the shepherd. "You guys can't be serious!" she yelled at Chapel. "What do you think you're doing?"

The burly guy nailed Davis with a hard look.

She got the message, stepping back as Chapel disappeared after the others.

"You too?" Hollyn turned on Davis. "I know you guys never saw eye to eye, but come on! Archie is my friend—he isn't behind all of this. You saw him!"

Fury planted himself in front of her in guarding position, body rigid with focus, clearly sensing the rising tension.

"Yeah." Davis angled in. Kept his voice even. He could understand why she'd feel that way, and truth was, he didn't think Archie was behind it either. "Protocols are in place for a reason. When we circumvent them, people die."

Preaching to the choir.

"Germaine in the wind?"

Davis hadn't realized Hale was still around. He nodded curtly. "Chapel said he got away on a boat before they could reach the dock."

The way this had turned out was less than ideal. He owned that. But with the info they'd had at the time . . .

Hindsight and all that. One thing he could guarantee—Germaine hadn't seen the last of them.

The video he'd taken needed to be combed through—quickly and thoroughly—before the next A-bomb blew up in his face.

When Hollyn took a step toward the hallway, Fury launched his ninety-pound frame at her. His paws punched into her chest as she screamed.

"Whoa, whoa!" Hale bellowed.

"Fury, no!" Davis reached out too late.

Fury and Hollyn tumbled to the ground. He grabbed the RMWD's collar and hauled the dog off, afraid he'd clamp on to the arm Hollyn lifted to protect herself. But as he tugged the landshark backward, it registered that while the shepherd had brought her down, he wasn't aggressing.

Drawing in deep breaths, tail swishing back and forth in the air—he wasn't trying to hurt her, he was scenting. Davis drew Fury around and held the lead tight to keep him under control as Hale helped Hollyn, who scrambled backward.

"You good?" Davis's heartbeat punched his chest. How many times was he going to ask her that?

Hollyn clutched her throat. Red scratches streaked across her neck. So much less than Fury could've done. "I'm . . . " She swallowed. "I think so."

That'd been way too close.

She patted her neck, then her motions became more frantic. "My necklace!" She scanned the floor, turning in agitated circles as she searched.

Fury kept straining against Davis, pulling in the opposite direction of Hollyn. He released the RMWD, who shot forward. Within seconds, Fury sat, attention laser focused on the floor.

Davis neared. Saw the missing necklace. "Good boy." He ruffled the shepherd's head and stooped to grab the item.

Hollyn took the proffered necklace. Gasped. "No!" she cried out, looking at the pendant. Then him, her eyes watery pools. "It's broken."

Flip.

Davis glared down at Fury. Of all the things he could have ruined.

"Hollyn, I'm?—"

"Wait, what's this?" She sniffed. Messed with the globe. Dug her fingernails in and pulled out a tiny rectangular object she identified immediately.

A microchip.

* * *

"Why would a microchip be in the necklace?" Hollyn turned to Davis like he'd have an answer. Her gaze dropped to Fury, who was still looking at her like she was a slab of bacon. And as if he could read her mind, the hairy beast licked his jowls.

Fear still fresh from being attacked, she distanced herself farther from him.

"What's going on?" Chapel stalked into the room.

The permanently stony expression he wore chilled Hollyn to her bone. Rendered her mute when she should speak up. Clearly, today wasn't the day she'd find her nerve.

"Not sure yet," Davis answered. "Fury got a hit on Hollyn."

Well, that was one way of putting it.

"Broke her necklace—found a microchip hidden in it." He extended his hand to Hollyn.

"Where'd you get the necklace?" Chapel demanded.

Which sounded a lot like he was blaming her. "M-my dad."

"The dad," Davis said pointedly, "who was killed had developed military-grade technology."

"No," Hollyn objected. "He developed technology. Someone else wanted to weaponize it."

Chapel studied her hard. "Let's check it out."

She set the piece in Davis's hand, deliberately avoiding the grumpy team leader and the four-legged force of nature.

Davis nodded to Chapel, who didn't look happy as he trailed Hale into the command room.

Hollyn's hands were shaking by the time she sat in front of the computer.

Dark-haired Hale dug through some things on the desk and tugged a chip reader out.

Hollyn held her breath as he opened the file that popped up, then swiveled the screen to her and slid the mouse her way. "What?"

"It was in your necklace from your dad . . . " Hale shrugged. "Figured you might want to open it."

"Oh." Right. Sure. But that awakened a whole new level of dread. What had Daddy hidden? Was it a message? Did she really want to even know if it'd gotten him killed?

Chapel and Davis stepped up behind her chair. To her relief, Fury kept his distance this time, his teeth squeegeeing over his KONG. She rubbed her neck. Nightmares about him jumping on her were going to plague her sleep for a while.

She opened a folder and found several files, all with numbers instead of names. "Here goes nothing . . . " She clicked open one of the files.

"What are we looking at?" Davis asked, apparently leaning in, because his words whispered along her earlobe.

With a shiver, Holly struggled to focus. Blinked and looked again at what was on the screen. Heart in her throat, she gasped. "That's my algorithm!" Bending toward the screen, she squinted, processing the information there. "Not my whole algorithm, but the part that was missing from the lab files."

"And what does that do?" Chapel gruffed.

"The algorithm?" She peered over her shoulder at him. "It just. . . makes the program run. Without it, the drones are just drones."

"With it?"

"The drones become . . . intelligent. Responsive. Intuit and resolve situations. I was looking for a way to eliminate underwater accidents from divers having to do dangerous grunt work around wreckages. Drones are expendable, people aren't."

Davis pointed to another file icon. "What about the others?"

Still rattled that the missing piece of code was here, hidden in her necklace, she had to haul her thoughts back in line. Clicked open the next icon.

A dozen documents populated the screen. She strained to identify them. "Emails . . . shared between two people calling themselves Old Lace and Crossfire." Finger to her lips, she read the emails. "Okay, the first one is dated a year ago and contains source code to my algorithm." Which made no sense. Who had gotten hold of this? She hadn't shared it with anyone except Daddy.

"Do you or your dad always share source code so easily?" Hale asked.

"No." She balked. "In fact, that's encrypted source code that could have only been accessed by someone inside the lab. No one else had access."

Which made Hollyn sick to her stomach. Its implications were too terrible to fathom. No . . . it couldn't be . . . a traitor . . . spy?

She shook off the daunting thoughts and checked the other emails. The one called Crossfire said they were getting close to figuring out the missing piece in the AI program and the deal could close soon.

"Unbelievable . . . " She drew the word out as she kept reading. "These are negotiations to sell my program."

How dare whoever this was try to steal her work!

Hale whistled low. "Nice chunk of change, there." He indicated a number with enough zeros to give coding a run for its money.

Hollyn clicked through the rest of the emails. "‘We'll be ready for the demonstration soon . . . There are a few chess pieces to eliminate from the board.'" She sucked in a breath and glanced at Davis, whose expression went grim. So that did mean what she thought it meant. She swallowed and returned to the message. "‘Stick to the plan. Any attempt to double-cross me will end poorly for them.'" Her stomach twisted. "I can't believe this . . . my parents! My parents were the chess pieces. This—this is who killed them!" Tears pricked her eyes, and she gulped down the lump in her throat. Glanced over her shoulder to Davis. "What demonstration?"

"Don't know," he replied. "But we need to find out."

In another folder, a note from Dad waited.

Sparrow,

For some time I've suspected that our lab had a mole, but until these emails were intercepted, I didn't have proof. Unfortunately, I'm still unable to determine who's behind this. As a precaution, I held off uploading the last section of your algorithm so the lab files were rendered unusable. As you've probably figured out, they're on this chip. You know how meticulous we were about protecting your launch. These prove that someone from the lab has betrayed us. I pray I find out who and what they planned to do with the program before you ever see this. However, if I don't, as I said in my letter, trust no one but Davis.

Hollyn rested her elbows on the desk and braced her mouth against her fisted hands for a moment, struggling to process this revelation, to understand that her dad had known someone was betraying them. "Someone from the lab is behind this." She said it more to solidify the truth than as a repetition of the email's contents. Her heart was so heavy. Someone she'd worked with—maybe even daily—was to blame, and she hadn't suspected a thing.

"Archie," Davis said dryly.

Hollyn turned. As much as she wanted to argue, she couldn't empirically say he was wrong. And that hurt. A lot. "We should talk to him."

Surprise flashed over his face.

"No, we will talk to him," Chapel countered.

She gathered every ounce of courage she could muster. "All due respect?—"

He scoffed. "Which just means up y?—"

"This is my code and my lab." For once in her life, she was taking a stand. "Like it or not, I'm part of this, and I know Archie better than any of you." She resented that everyone had already decided to blame Archie.

"Which is part of the problem—he means something to you. Can you do what's necessary if he's guilty?"

His challenge rattled her. But she realized something. "If he's guilty, then that means he killed my parents." The thought of that struck a powerful chord. "I'm done being a peacemaker. We need truth, not just a head to hang." She wanted truth. Whatever it may be. If he was the one behind this, she'd find a way to accept it. But if he wasn't, they were wasting valuable time going after the wrong person.

Chapel stared her down.

Was it her imagination, or had Davis and Hale just collectively leaned away? As the seconds ticked by, Hollyn understood this man had more experience in this arena. A more attuned sense to liars and terrorists. Maybe she should let him handle it. Admittedly, that'd be so much easier than?—

"Good." Chapel gave a sharp nod. "Let's go."

She didn't give him time to second-guess his decision. Just stood to follow him. Sidestepping Fury, she took in a steadying breath.

"We'll hold back and comb through the video Ledger took," Hale said. "See what else we can figure out about where Germaine went."

Without a word, Chapel took off toward the hold.

Following the grizzly operator down the hall bolstered her resolve to stay strong. She could do this. After all, she'd held her ground and stated her position and he'd agreed. So she was doing something right.

His broad frame blocked the light as he ducked into the hold. Inside, she spotted Archie on a medical gurney, Glace and Macklin hovering over him. Where was the rest of Damocles?

"Hollyn." Relief filled Archie's tone.

She forced herself not to rush forward.

You have to find out what's going on.

"Are you the mole, Archie?" she asked him point blank. Wanted to see his reaction.

His face scrunched in confusion. "What're you talking about?"

Hollyn pressed on. "We found the emails."

"Emails?" Archie didn't look at anyone in the room but her. "I don't know what you're referring to."

"Crossfire and Old Lace."

He frowned again. "What does that even mean?"

The tether on her temper burned, and she stomped forward. "My parents are dead, Archie! Leila is dead!" She spoke with more ferocity than she'd known she possessed. "Stop messing around! Was it you? Did you kill my parents?"

"No!" Archie balked, anger replacing confusion. "It wasn't me. On a stack of Bibles, it's not me. I swear." He blanched. "I'm not the one you're after."

Chapel's muscular form wedged in. "Then who is?"

Archie looked between them. Looked like he might not say anything else. Then his shoulders slumped and his head dipped. She thought she heard him whisper forgive me before he straightened. "I don't know who's behind it . . . but I know what they're going to do with the program."