Chapter 6
SIX
He shouldn’t have touched her. She was like a skittish colt, and he’d pushed her too far too fast.
But damn, he hadn’t been able to help himself. On the bike, feeling her tucked against him, his arm around her waist, he’d nearly lost control. She smelled of vanilla and cinnamon, with just a hint of some flower he couldn’t name. The end of her ponytail had kept brushing across his face, and he’d wanted to bury his nose against her neck, the soft skin there vulnerable and on display to him.
After months of being cut off from her, it had overwhelmed his senses. With only a few layers of material between his dick and her ass, it had been all he could do to keep his phone straight enough for the flashlight to help guide them.
If she’d felt his hardness, she hadn’t let on. She hadn’t acted affected at all, in fact. She’d remained tense and on alert—as she should have given the circumstances.
But that’s exactly what had tipped him off—she was too tense, too rigid. She wasn’t about to admit that she felt anything for him other than loathing.
Maybe he was a fool to believe otherwise.
As they entered the former embassy, nothing but the shell of what it had once been, he forced himself to refocus his thoughts on the task at hand. He couldn’t allow the past to matter right now. If they were to succeed, all of them had to be hyperaware.
The empty building was more like a three-story home, and the ghosts of its former employees seemed to hover in the corners. The storms sweeping through the city had lightened only slightly, rivulets of water tracking down the windows.
As they slipped from room to room, dust motes danced in the beams of their phone lights. Whatever security system had been in place was no longer active, but Del and Flynn were once more able to speak to them through their comms.
“Loch Ness, this is Swan One,” Meg said, hailing their boss. “We are on approach to the target. Over.”
“Swan One, this is Loch Ness,” Del responded. “We read you loud and clear and have you in our sites. Over.”
“Swan Two, what is your entry plan?” Flynn asked. He wasn’t much for radio etiquette.
Tessa responded before Declan could answer. “Through the tunnel between the former embassy and the new one.” When the three of them looked at her, she cringed. “Sorry, this is Black Swan…um, Four, I guess? Hey, commander.”
Meg looked away. Black Swan Four had been Jessie’s designation.
Flynn growled. “Architect, you are to stand down.”
Tessa straightened. “You’re kidding, right? I’m your ace in the hole.”
“You no longer work for me. You cannot be part of this mission, as Swan One knows full well.”
There was a message there. Maybe even a threat. Meg didn’t seem to care.
Arguing was wasting time. Declan tapped his mike. “This is Swan Two. Entry will be through the tunnel connecting both embassies. Swan One and I will use it to access the target and locate the red bag. Three and The Architect will remain in positions outside. Over.”
“Exit plan?” Flynn asked, ignoring his mention of Tessa being involved.
He didn’t have one. He had several. Always did. Which their boss knew. He was simply checking off the boxes on his mission list. “Exit plan one, retrace our steps. Exit plan two, use an available ground floor escape route. Exit plan three, rooftop evac.”
“That would require a helicopter, or have you developed wings and can fly?”
“Pegasus has been activated, has it not? Over.”
Meg narrowed her eyes. She’d believed they’d be on their own once they’d secured the USB.
Flynn chuckled. “On the off chance you do not need a daring rooftop rescue, they’ll be stationed three clicks south. Loch Ness will provide the coordinates. You have until sixteen hundred hours to meet up with them. If you blow that window, you’ll have to find your own ride home.”
He set the timer on his watch. “Roger that.”
“Do we still have eyes inside the embassy?” Spence asked.
Del responded. “Hit and miss. Cables have been damaged. At least one server has been destroyed, possibly on purpose by the staff to avoid intel falling into enemy hands. Most sections of the compound have no active security cameras as this point, but we have satellite imagery. The Chief of Mission left yesterday, but there are employees stranded inside.”
Could be better, could be worse.
“Loch Ness, we’ll keep airwaves open as much as we can,” Meg told them, “but may end up going dark if necessary.”
“Roger that,” Del said.
“Godspeed,” Flynn said. “I look forward to buying some of you a drink upon your return.”
And kicking the rest of you in the ass , it went without saying.
With that, the comms went silent.
“There was a small armory here in the west wing,” Tessa told them. “Should we check it in case anything was left behind?”
“Yeah, let’s,” Spence said, motioning her to accompany him.
When they’d disappeared, Meg chewed the inside of her cheek, staring into the basement where the next underground trip awaited. “What do you say we call a truce? Just for this mission.”
He’d rather have forgiveness, but maybe this was the first step toward that. “The mission comes first.”
She gave him a measured glance. “I want your word that if things go belly up like they did previously with Hagar, you will not put me ahead of the others.”
So that’s what she meant by a truce.
He couldn’t do that. “I thought you were the leader.”
“I am, and that’s my order.”
Arguing with her was stupid, but he couldn’t help himself. “A team without its leader is not a team. The success of the mission depends on you. Every one of us knows that and accepts it. Jessie did, too. “
She raised a hand as if to shield herself from his words. “From here on out, we do not speak of her. Not until this is over and everyone is safe back at Langley. The stakes are too high.”
She was right. Their total attention had to be on the present, not the past. He gave a resentful nod. “A truce until we’re all back on US soil. Then, you and I are going to have it out. Once and for all.”
He dug a flat, black carrier from his jacket pocket and laid it on one of the dusty desks. As he unzipped it and brought out the contents, he felt her slip up behind him.
“What is all that?” she asked.
“Spence isn’t the only kid with a bag of magic tools.” He picked up a sleek, silver device, slightly bigger than a lipstick tube. “Meet Vishie IV, the latest development in mini-lasers, courtesy of Del and R&D.”
“Looks like a kitchen torch. Does it melt things?”
She’d probably enjoy that. She always had a thing for fire. “It’s a non-lethal laser designed to temporarily blind targets. Aim, fire, and they’re blinded long enough for you to make a move. Won’t cause permanent damage, just enough to impair their vision up to five minutes.”
She twisted the tube, inspecting it. Then held it up and fired the laser using the button on the side of the wall. The beam flashed a strobe of colors on the dingy paint. “And the range?”
“Effective up to twenty feet,” he told her. “Less than three, and you’ll risk burning your target’s retina.”
She nodded, twisting it closed and slipping it into the pocket of her army green jacket. That damn thing.
He couldn’t believe she still wore it but understood the significance. It had belonged to her dad, a former Delta force member. He’d died before he got to see his only daughter graduate from The Farm and become one of the CIA’s most trusted and valuable weapons.
Meg was always collecting souvenirs of those she’d loved and lost.
“What else?” she asked, fingering what looked like a compact handgun with an unusual muzzle.
He handed it to her. “Ultrasonic weapon. It will admit a targeted, high-frequency soundwave that disrupts the inner ear. The target will feel nauseous and disoriented and may even end up incapacitated. Perfect for crowd control and close quarters, and while the effect is nearly instantaneous, it’s short-lived, so timing is everything.”
She gave him a look that suggested she wanted to use it on him. He grinned, letting her know he could read her mind and knew she never would do it. He placed a set of earplugs to protect herself from the weapon.
She found a place for those and the weapon. “Where are your toys?”
He tucked the bag away and patted his own pockets. “We get in, grab the USB, and get out.”
“Ghosts,” she agreed. “Although, for the record? You should let me do this.”
Spence and Tessa returned, disappointment written on their faces. “Not even a swizzle stick left,” Spence said. “Bloody wankers could’ve left us something.”
Tessa scanned the grouping of desks. “Check under every drawer and behind every file cabinet. There’s got to be some forgotten, hidden gun here somewhere. This place wasn’t simply phased out. It was shut down in a twenty-four-hour period. Everyone moved to the new embassy in a rush.”
“Why?” Spence asked.
“A group of unhappy nationalists decided to stage a protest and let us know,” Meg told him.
Tessa nodded. “It was in our best interests to make the move quickly and efficiently.” She began checking under the nearest desk. “Which is why I’m guessing a few things might have been forgotten.”
“We don’t have time for a thorough search,” Declan said. “We move now and use what we’ve got.”
Tessa and Spence looked at Meg.
He held his breath, waiting for her to override the order. He could see it in her eyes—the desire to do it, even though it was exactly what she wanted the others to do.
He quirked a brow. Truce, remember ?
Her gaze darted away, and well, would you look at that—she gave a nod of confirmation.
Spence headed for the basement, his boots pounding down the stairs. “Comms might be spotty. We’ll do our best to cover you.”
The basement floor was stone and smelled of mildew and rot. A rodent had died in the corner, its bones stark against the damp foundation.
A rusted metal door was somewhat camouflaged behind a shelf on wheels, containing a few random office supplies left behind. “That’s it,” Tessa said. “That’s the egress to the passageway.”
It was locked and covered with cobwebs. Declan knocked them away and contemplated the electronic keypad. Could he shoot this one, too, to gain access, or would destroying it also destroy their chances of entry?
“I’ve got it,” Spence said, digging out his phone. He tapped at the screen, bringing it close to the keypad.
“The batteries might be dead,” Meg said.
“These are muli-use.” Spence waved his phone around the top and bottom. “They can use electricity but also have an internal battery in case of a power outage.”
“I didn’t design this entry, but smart locks have been around for a while.” Tessa grinned as they heard the thunk of a deadbolt slamming back. “And they have a manual override.”
Dec motioned Spence back and listened. No sound came from the other side. The hinges groaned when he pulled the metal open, keeping his frame a shield just in case. He didn’t expect a surprise, but best to anticipate one anyway.
Only darkness met his eyes. Total nothingness, as if he were blind.
The odors of mildew and dead things stuffed their way up his nose. Far off in the distance, he picked up faint sounds. The rioting? This passage was acting like a funnel for the noise.
Meg squeezed in beside him. “We need night vision.”
He fished out his phone and thumbed on the flashlight. “We’ll make do.”
A much smaller tunnel came into view—almost too small. He wouldn’t be able to walk standing up.
Tessa made a face as the wave of rot and mold hit her. “Gross.”
“Be ready for anything,” Meg said, stepping across the threshold. “Without security cameras and no way of knowing who or what might have been exploring this place regardless of that lock, we might run into a surprise or two.”
Declan followed, ducking his head. “Surprises are what we do best.”
The absolute darkness felt like a suffocating blanket, the air so stagnant it made breathing difficult. The passage was pure stone, carved out centuries ago. It grew narrower, forcing him to turn sideways at various points to get his shoulders through. Spence had to do the same.
Meg took his phone and forced them to slow as she peeked around a bend. A rat scurried by, disturbed by the light, and she jumped.
“God, I hate rats,” Spence said.
Tessa watched the thing disappear into the gloom. “Pocket dogs are highly intelligent and capable of forming emotional bonds with their owners. They have excellent memories, can handle complex tasks, and show empathy toward other animals.”
An odd silence fell as they all stared at her.
She shrugged. “What?”
“Pocket dogs?” Spence echoed.
“Out of all of that, that’s what you got?” She rolled her eyes.
Declan grabbed the phone. Meg held on. “Let me scout ahead,” he said to her.
“No.” She wouldn’t let go. “We stay together, no matter what, until we get to the embassy.”
Damn bullheaded woman.
Water dripped from a crack in the bend as she continued on, turning her back on him. A portion of the wall had crumbled, filling their path with mud and stones.
“Surprise number one,” Spence muttered.
“Don’t suppose you have a shovel in your bag of magic tricks,” Meg muttered to Declan.
“We’ll have to go back,” he said. “We’ll look for a tool to dig our way through.”
She climbed the hill of mud, shining the light through a tiny opening at the top of the debris. “I can squeeze through.” Turning, she flipped him the phone and pulled out hers, flicking on its light. “This is where we part ways.”
“The hell we do,” he said.
Spence reached for her. “Meg, don’t you dare!”
Tessa shimmied out of her bulky jacket, pushing it through behind Meg, flashing both men a grin over her shoulder, and flopping onto all fours to follow.
Declan growled loud enough to startle another rat, gripping Tessa by the ankles and hauling her back. “Fuck that. Meg!” he yelled through the opening, spotting her in the light bouncing off the walls beyond the mudslide. “Get your ass back here.”
“When I have the USB,” she told him. “Ghosts, remember? In and out. Be ready to join me at the evac site.”
He stretched an arm toward her, his head clipping one of the overhead rocks. “We’re a team, goddammit. We do this together.”
The light faded to nothing as she gave him one last glance and took off running.