Chapter 31

Chapter Thirty-One

Irish paced the conference room in an attempt to settle the nerves. He was never nervous. If he had been, he wouldn’t have been able to do his job as a Delta.

There isn’t any time for nerves when the very next step you take could be your last.

“Stop pacing. You’re doing my head in,” Ox grumbled as his fingers tapped the tabletop.

“And that’s not annoying at all.” Irish canted his head toward the table. “Admit it, you’re just as nervous as I am about how this is all going to play out.”

After he and Cass had presented his idea to lure the former CIA employee to Alliez’s offices, their boss had taken the idea and ran with it.

It hadn’t helped that Hound and Deal had reported that the two goons who were with Javier had left, and that Fox and Jag had followed them the border.

The question of why they’d been sent home was one they still hadn’t found the answer to.

The DEA Agent who’d contacted them in the past had been quiet, and so far, had ghosted Ox. Another thing that’d troubled them.

Did that mean that they were about to make their move on the Ramirez Cartel?

Where was Gomez Ramirez, and why was Javier still hanging around the USA when the others had left?

Too many unanswered questions for Irish’s liking.

Cass hadn’t been able to discover if the DEA was about to start an operation involving the Ramirez Cartel. Not to mention, the dark web was surprisingly quiet as well.

All those things had Irish worried that a bomb was about to blow up in their faces, and they had no opportunity to prepare for the worst.

The only good thing was that former CIA Officer Roderick Martin had been delighted to come into their offices and help with the task of getting secrets out of their mysterious suspect .

His eagerness had been a surprise, but not really. It was as Irish had surmised. He was either bored with retirement, or his ego had been inflated because he’d been asked to consult again.

It didn’t matter why he’d been eager to help. In about fifteen minutes, he was going to walk into this room and hopefully he’d be able to answer all of Cass’s questions.

Thoughts of Cass had Irish wanting to storm out of the room and into her office. Take her away from all of this. Whatever this man said, the ending wasn’t going to be ideal for her.

Yes, she may get the answers she wanted, but at what cost? Alternatively, the man could give her nothing.

The end result would be a possibly devastated Cass with more unlocked memories. Memories not only of her father but of what she’d been put through so that she could forget her former life in Mexico.

“Is this a good idea?” Irish asked his friend and boss.

“What’s giving you these doubts? It was your idea that we do this.”

“I know. But having this time to think isn’t a good thing. What if this turns out to be a bad thing for Cass? What if remembering what happened to her is detrimental?” Voicing his inner turmoil didn’t ease his anxiety that they could be making a monumental mistake.

“It could. Or it could be freeing for her. It could be what she needs to help her deal with her past and forge a new future—with you,” Ox said.

“We’d have a future together regardless if this meeting happens or not. Cass has and always will be mine.”

“I know.” His boss smiled. “You deserve good things, Irish. You always have.”

For a time, he’d thought that—and then, when everything had happened with this team, he doubted he did. Yes, Irish had chosen the outcome, but he still couldn’t let go of the fact that if he’d known something, seen something, the outcome might have been different.

He could’ve changed their minds. At least he believed he could’ve prevented them from going to the dark side of life.

“Do I though?” Irish whispered.

Ox stood and closed the distance to him. “I’ve never spoken to you about what happened with your discharge, but I heard whispers.”

He stilled. “What whispers?”

“That your team were doing things they shouldn’t have been.”

Had his teammates known that? Was that why they upped the ante of what they were doing?

“If that’s the case, then why did you hire me?” Irish asked.

Ox met his gaze. “I heard what was being said, but I never believed you were involved. I’d worked with you and seen you in action. There was no way you were a part of what your team was doing. You took the fall for them, didn’t you?”

He swallowed, shocked at his boss’s observations. There was no point hiding anything anymore. What was done was done and couldn’t be changed. Not that he wanted it any different. “Yeah. I did.”

“Why?”

Wasn’t it obvious?

“Because the others had more to lose than I did. They had families. I couldn’t let them not get the benefits that their husbands and partners put their lives on the line for. I was the single guy on the team. It didn’t matter if I lost everything.”

Ox nodded. “Makes sense, you’d do that. You were willing to deal with the consequences even though you weren’t involved. That’s why I brought you on. Because of your integrity.”

“Kyle? A Mr. Roderick Martin is here to see you and Irish.” Yolanda’s voice filled the room, and Irish blew out a breath.

“Thanks Yolanda. We’ll be out shortly,” Ox said. “You ready?”

“Yes, but before we go.” Irish took a big breath. “Thank you.” He couldn’t say anything else.

Ox’s unwavering belief chased away the doubts about why he was there. His boss wouldn’t have employed him if he didn’t trust him, but even after hearing the rumors and seeing what’d gone down, he still believed him—and in him—was something he never expected.

“No thanks necessary. I knew I wanted to create a team of people I could count on. Contacting you was a no brainer. Let’s do this.”

It was showtime.

The meeting had been going for ten minutes, and Cass willed the internal phone to ring to ask her to join them.

What was taking Irish and Ox so long?

Although, she supposed they had to make small talk before they got down to the real reason for the appointment.

Cass wiped her hands down the sides of her skirt. She could be sitting at her computer trying to do some work while she waited, but that would be pointless because her mind wouldn’t retain anything and was likely to make a mistake—something she never liked to do.

Would Roderick Martin recognize her when she walked into the room?

Would he remember the little girl he’d worked with and compare her to the woman she was now?

The likelihood of him remembering her was small. A lot of people would’ve passed through his office in the intervening years.

At least Cass hoped that would be the case. If he did recognize her, then that would be a totally different ball game.

Would he stay or would he head for the exit as quickly as possible? If he did that, it would highlight his guilt.

She jumped when her door opened. Whirling around, she found Yolanda standing there. “Gosh, Yolanda, you scared me. ”

“Sorry, but I knocked a couple of times. Kyle and Irish are ready for you.” Sympathy filled the receptionist’s eyes.

Everyone was aware of what was going on today. There were no secrets kept in the Alliez office when it came to client meetings and jobs everyone worked on.

Cass had created a system so everyone could access all the information relating to clients and their operations with a click of a few buttons.

“It’s fine. I was lost in thought.” Her stomach clenched as the nerves she’d managed to push aside returned with the force of a tornado bearing down on a small town.

The older woman came into the room, and without saying a word, pulled Cass in for a hug. “No matter what happens, you know we’ll all be here for you. For anything you need.”

Cass returned the hug, appreciating the gesture. “Thank you. I needed this.”

“We all need a good hug every now and then.” Yolanda headed back to her station at the front of the office.

Cass straightened her skirt and rolled her shoulders a couple of times in an attempt to ease the tension. It didn’t help but there wasn’t anything else she could do. The only way she was going to relax was when the meeting was over, and she had the answers she sought.

She picked up her tablet, pushed her glasses up, and strode toward the conference room. If she looked like she was confident, then it would flow through her, and she’d feel it. The fact her knees were knocking meant nothing.

Normally, when Cass attended a meeting, she was focused and in control. This was far from a normal meeting.

As she reached the closed conference room door, she paused. A light film of moisture covered her palms. Nothing she could do about that, but she wiped them against her skirt again.

“Need me to get the door for you?” Deal came up behind her, causing her to startle a little.

Damn these stealthy former special forces operatives. The least he could’ve done was clear his throat as he approached.

“I’ve got it,” she said determinedly.

“You certainly do, but allow me.”

Cass didn’t have a chance to protest Deal’s actions because the second the door opened, her gaze collided with Irish’s intense blue one. A small part of her tension eased from her seeing him standing there, as if he were waiting for her .

With his back to the other men in the room he mouthed you good ?

Her heart stuttered at the way he was always looking out for her. Always asking if she was okay.

She gave a slight nod, even though her belly was twisted tighter than a pretzel.

His lips curved into a quick smile before reverting back to the straight line she was used to seeing on him.

“Come in, we’re ready for you,” Ox said.

By tacit agreement, neither Ox nor Irish would use her full name until they determined if Roderick recalled her or not. Of course, Cass would have to be introduced so they’d decided to use an alternative name for her.

She swept past Irish, feeling the fleeting brush of his fingers against hers. “Good morning, how is everyone?” she asked as she took the seat she normally used whenever she was in the conference room. Cass kept her gaze angled to the ground, giving the impression she was a subordinate in the workplace. Her dark hair was providing a curtain of privacy as well.

“Ms. Brown, I’d like to introduce you to former Intelligence Officer Roderick Martin, accomplished psychologist and profiler.”

The man’s hair was thin on top and silver. He wore round glasses with a slim gray frame. He was dressed casually in a black polo shirt and black chinos.

He may no longer work for the company, but seemed black was still a favorite color for the man.

“Mr. Martin, a pleasure.” Cass made her mouth curve in a pleasant smile.

“Ms. uh, Brown, likewise.” The hesitation was telling.

Had he had a fleeting memory of her?

The only picture she’d seen of herself as a young child was the picture from the CIA’s file, but the resemblance was there. Even if her name hadn’t been listed beneath the photo, everyone would know the child in the picture was the same person as the woman in the room.

However, this guy was seasoned intelligence. Trained not to show any reaction to any situation. He’d slipped a little with the hesitation, but now his expression was impassive, as if he had no cares in the world.

Silence settled around the room.

Cass didn’t trust herself to look at Ox or Irish. If she did, she’d crack and demand answers.

Who was going to break the silence?

This was something they hadn’t discussed, which they should’ve .

They should’ve realized they were dealing with a master. Someone who always ran situations. Who did the prodding and leading. The silence probably didn’t even bother Roderick Martin.

A slight shift in posture came from the former CIA employee.

Cass tensed. Was this it? Was he about to admit he remembered her?

“It’s been a while Cassandra, but I’m pleased to see you’re looking well,” Roderick said, even and conversational, as if they discussed the weather. Not the least bit worried he’d just exploded the ticking time bomb that had been lurking above them.

Beside her, Irish growled in annoyance.

When had he moved?

She hadn’t even noticed he’d taken the seat next to her.

Her lover leaned forward. “Just a word of warning. You’re not running this meeting. We are.”

“Why the subterfuge then? Why introduce her as Ms. Brown?”

“How do you know that’s not her name?” Ox countered. “You were part of her transition from who she once was to who she is now.”

Roderick shrugged, again not showing any hint of feeling the pressure from the looks Ox and Irish were giving him. “I know enough to know that Brown wasn’t the name she was given.”

“Have you kept up with me all these years?” Cass asked, her voice sounding reasonably calm. A stark contrast to what she was feeling. Her thigh muscles quivered from the strength it was taking not to bolt from the room.

“No.”

“Then perhaps I got married and divorced but still kept my former husband’s name because I preferred it to the one I’d been given after you and your associates had completed the tasks assigned to them.”

Roderick canted his head. “I suppose that’s a possibility.”

“But you don’t believe me?” she countered, attempting to keep a lid on the anger at his casual ignorance.

“Not my place to say what’s true and what isn’t.”

Cass didn’t like his response. Did that mean no matter what they asked him they wouldn’t get the truth from him?

“Let’s get another thing straight. I’m not playing any of your company bullshit. What you and the CIA did to Cass was despicable. You answer her truthfully. You give her what you all took from her,” Irish ground out, his hands fists on the table .

“What we gave her was a better life,” Roderick spat, for the first time showing he was a little ruffled. “She should be thanking us.”

“Thanking you? What Kool-Aid are you drinking? How was losing my home, my father, beneficial for me?” Cass countered. “You have no idea how what you did has affected me.”

Nothing about this meeting was going the way she’d thought or hoped it would. Or hoped it would.

“I think we all need to take a breath,” Ox said.

Cass didn’t want to calm down. She wanted to rail at the man sitting opposite her.

“I’m perfectly calm,” Roderick responded. “You must know I can’t talk about what happened. It’s classified.”

“I don’t care if it’s classified. I need to know about what you did to me. I’m suffering debilitating headaches. Flashbacks.”

“Flashbacks? That shouldn’t be happening.” The man leaned forward, studying her a bit closer, his brow furrowed.

“Why shouldn’t it be happening?” she asked, surprised at the chink in the armor he’d worn the moment he walked into the room.

Roderick looked away, his lips pursed together .

Dammit, she’d thought he was going to forget the classified nature of the project and give her something.

“I believe she asked you a question,” Irish said when the silence in the room stretched once again.

There’d been a slight shift in Roderick’s demeanor.

Subtle, but there, and both Irish and Ox had seen it, based on their postures and the slight looks they’d exchanged.

“I remember being in a room, a cap on my head. There were so many wires coming from that hat to a machine. I was being shown pictures. Continually pestered to say what the picture was over and over.” Cass’s head ached as she talked about the most traumatic flashback she’d had. “I don’t know what happened when I got it wrong, but my head hurts now just remembering.”

All through her small recollection, the color receded from Roderick’s face, as if hearing her talk about what she went through pained him, when it pained her more. “Wh-what…” He cleared his throat. “What else have you recalled?”

They were finally getting somewhere, especially if he now believed she hadn’t been lying about having flashbacks.

Cass quickly relayed the memory of her yelling and screaming and then being sedated .

With each word she spoke, even more color seemed to seep from Roderick’s face.

“You may be able to keep your expression passive and neutral, but even you can’t control your body’s reactions. So how about you tell us what we need to know, and then we can move forward. As you can see, Cass isn’t lying, and as she suffered at your hands, the truth is hers to own.” Irish grabbed her hand, which had been gripping her tablet so tightly her knuckles strained bright white against her flesh.

“You don’t have the clearance for that type of information,” Roderick stated.

“Fuck clearance. The fact that you can sit there while I’m suffering from all this pain, this knowledge that the first eight years of my life have been wiped out of mind is deplorable. Do you want to know what my first memory I truly remembered was?” Cass demanded, her chest heaving, and she swallowed to stop the tears from falling. No way was she going to let this man see how much his ambivalence was hurting her.

“What?”

“Walking into school with my ‘parents,’ who I’ve now discovered aren’t my parents but two CIA intelligence officers who drew the short straw and were required to look after me when that was the last thing they wanted to have foisted on them.”

“Didn’t you just tell me that you recalled some time arguing and being sedated? Isn’t that your first memory?” Roderick replied smugly.

She reared back as if she’d been slapped. She gaped at the audacity of the man to throw back what she’d told him in her face.

“You fucking asshole.” Irish leaped from his chair and had the man in chokehold before she could blink.

Ox was up and half-heartedly pulled Irish from Roderick, as though he wanted Irish to inflict pain on the man. “That’s enough,” their boss demanded, giving Irish’s arm another tug before he let the former CIA psychologist go.

Cass stood. Her skin was crawling and on fire, and she couldn’t be there anymore. “I think this is a waste of time. It’s abundantly clear this man has no remorse for what he’s done. He doesn’t give a shit that my life was turned upside down.” Tears were streaming down her face now, and she didn’t bother to hide them. Maybe it would affect the former CIA employee, but she doubted it.

Shaking off Irish’s attempt to take her arm, Cass continued walking toward the door, needing to get out of this room as much as she needed to breathe .

The second she stepped out, Eveline was in front of her, her dark eyes full of concern.

Cass tried to swallow her sob, but she didn’t succeed.

Eveline pulled her into a tight hug. “It’s going to be okay, Cass.”

As much as she wanted to believe that, she couldn’t.

Nothing was ever going to be okay.