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James didn’t sleep on the flight north. He probably should have used one of the cots stored behind the bulkhead of the freighter, but there was always the possibility he’d have a nightmare. True, he hadn’t had one of those horrifying, wake-up-screaming kinds of incidents in a long time, but the bay of a transport plane wasn’t a good place to risk it.
So when they finally touched down in Los Angeles, he was a downright punchy. Snapped at the navigator when he said James should wait for the shuttle.
Fuck that. Instead he got some much-needed exercise by marching across the tarmac. No, he wasn’t wearing a reflective vest, but he had eyes and ears, so he’d be fine. Wasn’t like he hadn’t walked this space before.
Passing by the nearest security exit, he went right on to the low building where the department of agriculture had its offices—where he was meeting his contact.
He didn’t know who to expect, but wasn’t surprised to find his nephew standing at attention just inside. Since leaving the FBI and his own private security company to join Meyers a year or so ago, Jake split his time between the Texas ranch, his parents’ Malibu home, and the west coast of Canada, where he and his wife were building a lodge on a remote island.
Neither man spoke, but James took Jake’s outstretched hand and was surprised to be pulled in for a traditional back-slapping half-hug. His own sons would never be that bold, rarely touched him unless he initiated it. They understood his need to have absolute control over his private space, but he had to admit he enjoyed this connection. Especially when he was so beat-up from the long journey.
Once they were on the freeway headed north, Jake asked, “You ready for an update?”
James took the handheld from his pocket and did an electronic sweep to confirm the vehicle was clear and they were free to talk. Waited for the green button to light before responding. “Sure.”
“There is still no change in Alexandra’s condition. ETCETERA’s on board and working with Eve and Matt. According to the kidnappers—both are FBI agents on Rollins’s team—they were given several loaded syringes to administer on a specific time schedule. They only had the name of one drug, and swear they have no clue what else was in them. The empties were tossed in the trash at the airport. We have a team working on retrieval. But it’s a monumental task.”
“Blood work?”
“Shows one known pharmaceutical, and one unknown organic component, which is, of course, the key to the mystery. The fact that she can voluntarily blink her eyes makes no sense to any of the experts. Eve is still searching botanicals, as you suggested.”
The chemical-filled vial James had watched being boxed and shipped was picked up almost a full day ago. “DEA and Homeland?”
“Still working on the analysis. We should have some kind of answer soon.
Meanwhile, he was northbound on an LA freeway. “Are we headed for your place?” Tara and Jake lived in the home where Jake had grown up. The Malibu beach house—one of several properties his mother had inherited from her great-grandparents.
Less than a year ago, Jake’s mom and dad bought an RV and hit the highway, determined to visit every square inch of North America while Jake and Tara took care of the beach house.
James had been surprised, first of all when his brother—Jake’s father—took early retirement from the LAPD, and even more so when he announced his intention to travel for the rest of his life.
The timing couldn’t have been better for Jake and Tara, his Canadian wife, because the house gave them a solid base in the US, which was in turn good for Meyers.
“Headed for, but not our destination. Doing what will look like a quick pass through the town. Half mile out the other side, Angie will pick you up in the Steed.” He handed James two small black spheres. “She’s coming in silent, and you’ll be loading hot, so you’ll need these.”
The Steed was a state-of-the-art helicopter. Not only was it faster than any ’copter on record, but the pilot had the option of internalizing the engine noise so it traveled silently. The down side was the internalized engine noise could blast the eardrums out of anyone inside unless they were wearing special protective helmets. James would have to use the earplugs until he was onboard and wearing one of those helmets.
He could ask about his ultimate destination, but there was no point saying things out loud that didn’t need to be shared. His daughter, the helo pilot, would brief him.
“What’s the status on Alexandra’s father?” Jake had been assigned to pick him up and keep him safe.
“He was willing to take a trip, so we have him in a safe place.” Jake glanced into the rearview as he’d been doing since they left the airport. “SUV four back, center lane?”
James smiled. The kid was as good as he’d expected. “I agree. Came on when the last one took the exit.” And it was the fifth car tailing them since they’d left the airport. “You gonna mess with them, or lead them like tame pigs?”
Jake grinned. “Be lonely without them. And this is what we planned for, so it will be a pleasure to play with them. Figure only one will follow us into town, and one will be set to pick us up on the way out, on the road to home. But we won’t be on that one. Dropping right down to the beach instead.”
“Be his lucky day if he gets to see the Steed.”
“And not much chance of that, unless he’s paying attention to the ground.” The only evidence of it coming in to land would be the effect of downwash stirring up the sand and water below, because the Steed was damn near invisible, with an outer skin designed to mimic its surroundings. Anyone looking up with an untrained eye would see nothing but blue sky.
Jake pushed a button on his watch. “Angie’s thirteen minutes out.” He turned into a convenience store at the edge of town. “You or me?”
“You stay with the car.” James strode inside, ordered a couple of hot dogs, and tucked a box of beer under his arm. Glanced at the clock on the back wall and strolled to the far side to grab a pint of chocolate milk before going to the checkout.
Crossing to the car, he guzzled the chocolate milk, then tossed the container in a nearby trash bin, each move affording him an opportunity to get a good look around, and pick out the car currently tailing them.
“Here.” He passed Jake a hot dog, then started on his own as they drove away.
“Beer was a nice touch.”
Jake didn’t drink. Ever. Not since he’d started to recover. “Yeah, might as well let them think the pressure’s getting to me.”
“You going to take it on the bird?”
“Angie’d like that, but I’ll just take the empty box.” He transferred the cold cans to the grocery sack.
“Ready?” asked Jake. “I’m going to keep him busy for a minute.”
“Have at it.” James braced one foot in front of him and the other against the bottom edge of the door.
Jake picked up speed, and when the road curved to the right, he took a hard left instead. Shot over the edge of a blind rise so hard and fast, gravel would be spitting up in their wake. Another sharp left into a winding driveway and past a huge beach house. “Hang on.”
He booted it, and they nearly got air going over the edge onto what seemed like a footpath down to the ocean. James stowed his sunglasses in a buttoned pocket, stuffed in the earplugs, got a good grip on the box under his arm, and when they skidded to a stop and the Steed seemed to materialize out of nowhere, he said, “Thanks, pal. Later.”
It was a short run to the bird, but he had to battle the downwash, so he was spitting sand when he landed inside the helo. Protocol for load-and-go was to stay on the floor until the craft was more stationary. Good practice. Last thing a pilot needed when potentially dodging bullets was to worry about passengers being battered about.
But nobody was shooting at them today. James plucked out one of his earplugs, stuffed on a helmet and activated the built-in microphone.
“Am I clear?”
He could hear the smile in Angie’s voice. “Yeah. Welcome aboard.”
He climbed through the narrow opening and sat in the seat beside her. Took in the breathtaking view of the coast of California. “Updates?”
“No changes on the home front, but Broughton intercepted some intel that might give us the jump on Rollins.”
“That would be a switch.”
“Yeah, tailing him has to be getting fucking old.”
His daughter all right. “Damn sure.”
“There’s a guest ranch called Luna up in British Columbia with its own six-thousand-foot airstrip. Long enough for the private jets he uses. And they’ve done some recent upgrades that fit his MO.”
“Such as?”
“Changing all the windows in one of their chalets to one-way glass, and they’ve ordered fifty motion-activated cameras, delivery expected in a week. They already had three satellite dishes, but two more are due to arrive with a tech for setup.
“Sounds like he’s planning on staying a while. What about other people being there?”
“All booked guests were informed the place had to be closed temporarily because the water pipes had frozen. Yet the website indicates they’re sold out until the end of the year, and then shut down for annual maintenance until the first of February.”
“Good business. Looks better than closed for repairs. Could be anyone they’re doing it for, like the kind of people who stay at Paradise.” Grace and Logan’s country inn was geared toward visiting royalty and others wishing to avoid paparazzi.
“Mom said it was giving her a buzz, and that’s why she’s gone ahead with planning a capture there.”
Great. He and Julia were about to butt heads. There would be no planning of captures prior to an insertion of team members.
Angie continued. “You and I will be staged at Mountain House.”
A good choice. Their most secure safe house, and conveniently situated in the central portion of British Columbia—between the ocean and the Rockies—and just north of the US border. “Minutes from the target?”
“Sixty in the Steed.”
Not good enough. “What’s his current location?”
“Alaska, since he left South America. So he’s at least two hours away.”
His pattern so far had been an eastbound crisscross of the globe. Made sense he was due to break pattern.
So as long as they knew when he left, they could beat him there. Still didn’t work for James. He’d rather be at the destination to greet Rollins when he arrived. Yeah. That would be a great way to end this whole fucking mess.
“Where exactly is this guest ranch?”
“Northwest of Clinton.”
Mountainous terrain. Not big and jagged like the Rockies, but plenty of ridges and gullies.
“I have a local contact.” And a few days to get things set up the way he wanted them. “What’s our current ETA?” They were already headed inland.
“Meyers boardroom briefing in three hours, and we’ll be on time.”
They might be on the ground in time, but he and Julia would be late, because they had strategy to discuss.
***
“It’s going to be over soon,” said Grace from the sofa in Julia’s office.
Truer words. And for Julia, frightening ones. “I’m not sure what our lives will look like when it’s done.”
“You could hope for calm and peaceful.”
Why did that seem so far-fetched? “I could.”
“But you’re not.”
Julia wandered from window to window, then back to the kitchen area, where she cleaned and refilled Swagger’s water bowl. Not that he’d be there to drink from it. He refused to leave Alexandra, so Eve was feeding him there now, and forcing him outdoors once in a while to take care of business.
“What’s wrong with me?”
“For the first time since we met, I’d say you’re afraid.”
“You didn’t know me when James disappeared from rehab.”
“I can’t imagine a hell like that.”
“It’s history. Old news.” Her voice was too sharp. She worked at a calmer tone. “I don’t go back there, ever.”
“Don’t blame you. I’m not one to revisit the hard times.” Grace’s father had been murdered several years earlier, and had died in her arms.
Julia sat in the white leather chair behind her desk. There was something comforting about the vast expanse of polished wood. Her things exactly where she liked them. The photo of her and James the first time they met in person—a couple of years after they began communicating telepathically. They’d both been laughing so hard they could barely breathe while they set the camera and raced back to get into position before the photo was snapped. So young and silly. So damn happy.
“James and I have grown comfortable with things the way they are. What will happen when there’s no mission? When we’re both here all the time? How can I long for him to be home, yet feel such trepidation at the same time?” There. The words were finally spoken, so she should feel better, but she already wished she’d kept them to herself.
Grace said nothing. Just sat there with her thinking look on.
“Do you have a magic cure for what’s wrong with me?” asked Julia.
Grace smiled now, that serene, Madonna-like smile she usually reserved for the troubled girls she worked with. “The magic is already inside you both, Julia.”
She grimaced. “No, what’s inside me are doubts.” And that’s as close as she’d come to saying it out loud. To saying that she didn’t know if she and James could live together long term, if they’d ever be able to leave the ghosts behind and rediscover who they’d been when they got married. How could they, when the in-between would always haunt him? And what about—
“You’re overthinking, Julia, and I get that. When you’ve been driven for a very long time, adjusting to the completion of your goal is not as easy as people expect. When your whole existence has been about reaching a certain point, once you get there, you no longer have direction. And everything else becomes anti-climactic.”
“What was it like for you?”
“When?”
“After Europe. After getting all those girls safely out of the hands of traffickers, and putting the bastard out of commission.”
Grace closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them, she was staring blankly, as though somewhere else. “It was wonderful, and it was hell. I’d been so driven. So completely engulfed in the process, and in the finale. And then it was done and I had no purpose. Nothing to do when my eyes opened in the morning. Nowhere to go. But I got shaken out of it when the girls arrived and needed me.
“For you there will always be family. And when this is over, when Rollins is no longer a threat, you’ll finally be able to build the new house and start yet another chapter with the man you love.” She cocked her head. “Will you both retire from the business then?”
“I don’t know.” And there was the crux of her problem. Time to shake it off. There was work to be done. An op to run. Tension would continue to increase until the critical ending.
“On that note, I think I’ve taken enough introspective time away and should be getting back to work. James will be here soon.”
Grace studied her. “You’re feeling better, even though you never did tell me exactly what the problem was.”
“I worked it out in my head, and just having you here to listen was helpful. I can’t talk to any of the others this way.” Her children were never privy to her private thoughts and, although Consuelo had been her friend and confidante over the years, Julia didn’t want to upset her with uncertainties. Or, just maybe, she suspected Consuelo would call her an idiot and tell her to stop thinking stupid thoughts.
“I’d better check on Alexandra and drag Broughton to the briefing.”
“They’ve certainly clicked,” said Grace.
“That’s putting it mildly. I fear for them when she’s back on her feet. Will there be expectations from one or the other that won’t be met? I considered limiting his time with her, but she’s feeding off his strength right now, so I’m leaving it alone.” For the moment.
Grace’s smile bordered on a smirk. “Probably best to let them work things out.”
“I’m not trying to control—” She shook her head. Of course she was, but only had their best interests at heart. “Come on. You can hang with Alexandra while Broughton’s at the meeting.”
But it was Dhillon, Angie and Matt’s thirteen-year-old son, who was sitting with Alexandra when they arrived, and Grace was quick to needle him about a previous incident. “Hey, kid, climbed any trees lately?”
He grinned. “Nope. Can’t find anything big enough to be a real challenge.”
Grace winked at Alexandra. “I’m sure he’ll tell you his version of the story later.”
“Yeah, it’s a good one,” he said. “They nearly had to bring in the National Guard to get me down.” He rubbed the head of the greyhound sitting beside him. “Chance is choked that Swagger gets to be on the bed and he doesn’t.”
“Actually,” said Julia, “Swagger’s going to want to visit with James after the meeting, so maybe Chance could take over for an hour when we’re done.”
“Cool. You should see the new tricks I’ve taught him.”
While Dhillon went into full descriptions for Grace’s benefit, Julia checked on the patient.
How are you feeling, Alexandra?
I’m okay.
Is there anything I can do for you?
No, the kid’s good company. Smart, and funny.
And well able to stretch the truth when it suits him.
He’s promised to take me riding on the two fastest Thoroughbreds in the state when I finally get out of this damn bed. She hesitated. I want...no, I need. I need to ride again.
I promise you will.
Dhillon was holding his phone out for Julia to look at. “Text from Mom says they’re here and Gramps wants to meet you in your office before the briefing.”
Already a change from her plan. Not a big deal. She’d head back up. Meanwhile Angie would be free. “Do you want Grace to sit with Alexandra so you can go hang with your mom while she’s waiting for the team meeting?”
“Nah, she’ll have a flight report to do, and she’d just be distracted. I’ll wait ‘til she’s done.”
Yes, he was a smart boy.
***
James was used to a certain level of stiffness, awkwardness, from Julia when he first came home. Considering the state he’d been in only a few years ago, it wasn’t surprising, but today there was an added edge. Was it because he’d asked to see her alone first?
He crossed to where she sat behind the desk he thought of as her armor. Took her hands and drew her up into his arms. Simply held on until he felt some of the tension dissipate.
He tipped back to look into her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
She sighed and leaned her forehead against his chin. “We’re about to butt heads over this op.”
He nearly laughed at her voicing his same thought. “It’s not like we haven’t before and survived to tell about it.”
What should have been a half-laugh didn’t quite make the mark. She truly was troubled, and he had no clue how to make it easier for her. Let her lead? But... “Tell me now, so we can iron it out and present a united front.”
She took a step back but he captured her hands. “You’re going to want Broughton on this op, but I want you to take the twins instead.”
Fuck. Now they had two problems.
“Say something.”
He walked to the window. Stood where he was most comfortable. His back against the side wall, with a nearly one-eighty view. “I’d rather do an insertion early instead of intercepting on his way in.” Had every intention of doing it that way. “I have a contact in the nearest town. Hoped he could set us up with someone on the inside.”
“Broughton doesn’t work at all for that. The guy might as well have government agent or secret operative tattooed across his forehead.”
True. More important, she wasn’t arguing against his strategy. But still. Broughton was like having a clone of himself along. Someone he barely had to speak to. They knew and anticipated each other’s moves. They’d trained to the same standard.
“Why don’t you want Broughton to go?”
“Several reasons, actually, but only one makes sense. His knee. You’ll be in deep snow, and if his knee lets go, you’ll be packing him out. That’s not only dangerous, but the op would fail.”
“He’s fully rehabbed.” He’d said as much, and James would never doubt one of his men. “What else?”
“He’s been instrumental in keeping Alexandra from losing her mind in the midst of what’s happening, or not happening, with her. She needs him.”
Well this was a first. Julia putting someone’s personal needs before the company goal. He studied her face until she turned away, picked up one of her special things from the desk. She cupped a large rock, half the size of his fist, between her hands as though drawing warmth from its smooth black surface.
“There’s more. Talk to me.”
She set the talisman on its circle of leather. “It’s a feeling. I can’t put a finger on it, but when I think of you and him out there, something grabs me by the throat, as though I know things will go sideways.”
“A premonition?”
“Not exactly. It’s more gut-level than cerebral. But when I do try to think about it, take it apart, it comes back to believing he seriously wants Rollins dead. And I do too. But there’s something else I can’t put my finger on.”
Her psychic abilities were as powerful as his, yet different. And he’d never question them. Would he leave Broughton behind because of Alexandra? Likely not. Would he go without the right hand he’d planned to take just because his wife had a bad feeling about it? Yes.
He went to her. Took her face between his hands and kissed her softly. “I’ll take the boys instead.”
“Thank you.”
“Besides, they’re a better demographic for an early insertion. We’ll see if we can switch one of them for a current worker at the target location. At the very least, management at Luna will be needing a pro to set up all the technology they’ve ordered.”
She agreed, but there was still something off, and he didn’t have time to drag it out of her. He needed to get on with the briefing, where they’d work out the details of the op.
Brainstorming was a great way to pull a team together, as long as someone was in control.