Sutton got in her car and drove away from Mark’s building. She shook from the adrenaline crash. Driving probably wasn’t the best idea, but she had no choice. She called Tony.
“Sutton,” Tony said in a low voice. “You were supposed to call me back ASAP.”
“I’m calling you now. Why are you whispering?”
“Things are crazy here,” he said, still in a quiet voice. “What did the police say about Mark?”
She could feel blood dripping from the cut on her arm. It needed bandaging, sooner rather than later. She decided to head to her apartment to do that because it was closer than work.
“Sutton?”
“I didn’t speak with the police.”
“Why the fuck not?”
“Some neighbor saw me running from the place with my gun in hand.”
“So what?” Then he sighed. “Shit. You’re a suspect?”
“Looks like it. But don’t worry. I’m sure Edworthy can clear it up. We have to get on this now.”
Tony didn’t say anything for a minute. “Maybe you should go back and talk to the police.”
“Are you kidding? I’d be stuck in the station for the next forty-eight hours while they processed all the information.”
“But they—”
“No,” she said. “No fucking way. I’m the best chance there is to find Mark’s killer.”
“Ego much, Sutton? You don’t think the police can handle this?”
She knew the police could handle it. But it was Mark. Her friend. She wanted to handle it. Needed to handle it. “I’m just saying that I can be way more helpful out here than sitting at some police station.”
“Okay,” he said. “Fine. I probably would have done the same thing.”
“Thank you,” she said, with maybe a touch too much sarcasm.
“Crap, you’re a pain.”
“Love you too.” She made a turn to head into her neighborhood. “I’m heading home before I come in. I need to fix myself up.”
“How hurt are you?”
“Nothing serious. But I’ve got a cut that needs attention. Then I’ll be in and we can get started on finding this asshole.”
Tony hummed for a moment. “I don’t think that’s going to be our team’s priority. You might be flying solo on this.”
“What the hell are you talking about? Mark is dead! We have to find his killer.”
“Easy, Sutton.” Tony sighed. “Look, the interdepartmental team is forming today to find the leak.”
She clenched the steering wheel. “This is more important.”
“Maybe,” he said gently. “But maybe not. Some new information has come to light.”
“What information?”
“The Cyber Intelligence Unit found, through their computer magic, that a list of agents and assets’s names had been copied yesterday morning.”
She frowned. “Copied? And what...smuggled out of HQ?”
“Exactly. The agents are all undercover in Russia. Thirty of them.”
The implications roared through her. If the Russian government found those agents and assets, they’d be tried for spying and executed. “That’s...” She didn’t want to admit it. “Fuck. That is a priority.”
She could almost see Tony nodding. “So let the cops handle Mark.”
“But you don’t understand, Tony. This wasn’t a random burglary gone bad. He’d been tortured. Someone wanted something from him. The asshole who did it was still there. It meant he was looking for something.”
Tony sighed. “So what are you going to do?”
And now it was decision time. Her sister was a detective on the police force. Sutton could give her all the information she knew and let Amelia take care of things.
Sutton pressed her lips together. She knew how overworked all the police were. They tried their best, but they just didn’t have the resources she did.
“I’m going to investigate,” she said finally. “Just give me twenty-four hours. I’ll come in tomorrow and help with the leak.”
“What do you want me to tell Edworthy?”
Ah fuck. “Nothing is going to make him happy. Tell him Mark is dead. Tell him...I’m distraught and need time. I’ll be in tomorrow.”
“And what are you going to do now?” he asked quietly.
“Fix myself up and then make some calls and do some research. Don’t worry. I’ve got a plan.”
Again she heard his chair creak as if he leaned back. “You know it’s okay to just take the day,” he said. “Mourn Mark. Rest. Let others find justice for him.”
Her throat closed up. She concentrated on driving until the feeling subsided. “I have to do this.”
“Understood. Stay safe and keep me informed.”
“Roger that.”
Sutton parked her car in the underground lot of her building. She didn’t know much, but she was going to find Mark’s killer. Fortunately, the police wouldn’t have much beyond a vague description of her. It would take them hours to process the scene for fingerprints.
She groaned when she got out of the car. That bike had added a whole set of aches to the ones from the fight. Anger surged through her. She’d almost had the asshole. He must have been looking for something in the victim’s apartment—she had to think of Mark impersonally or she’d break down.
She’d known Mark since she’d become an operative in the Special Operations Group. He’d almost always been an analyst on her team. He’d had her back and knew how to make her laugh, even at the shittiest times. The man was brilliant. Had been brilliant. She choked back a sob and punched the elevator button that would take her to the third floor.
Why would anyone want to kill him? What did he have that someone would want? He was an analyst who worked on background information for their missions. Had he been working on anything that had gotten him in trouble?
She needed his laptop.
On the third floor, she opened her door and locked it behind her. In her bathroom, she grabbed gauze, antiseptic, and ibuprofen from her first-aid kit. She grimaced as she pulled her hoodie off; the sleeve, wet with blood, stuck to the cut. After laying out the supplies, she dialed Amelia’s cell, putting her on speaker. She started to clean the wound. At least it wasn’t deep, just a shallow slice. No stitches needed, but it would leave a scar. Good thing she didn’t care about scars.
“McRaven,” her sister said.
“Hey Mel,” she started. How was she going to tell her this without her sister wanting her to come down to the station? She ripped open a gauze pack with her teeth and one hand. She laid it out carefully and then slathered on antiseptic cream.
“Sutton?” Amelia asked. “What’s up?”
Her throat seized as if someone choked her. No words would come out.
“Sutton? What’s wrong?”
“He...Mark...”
“Shit,” she said softly. “You heard already. I’m so sorry. I was going to call you.”
“He didn’t show up to work,” Sutton said, her voice too quiet, too heavy.
Amelia’s tone turned sharp. “Wait. Did you go to his condo this morning? Shit. Are you the woman with long blonde hair?”
Fuck. This wasn’t going to be good. Sutton took a moment to place thick gauze pads over her cut while she thought how to answer.
“Yes.” She tried for meek, but that had never been her style, so she didn’t think it worked by the way her sister groaned over the phone. “Mark was dead when I got there. Someone was in the apartment. We fought and I chased him out of the building.”
“Describe him.”
Sutton began to wrap her arm in more gauze, securing the pads in place. “Six foot. Solid build, but lean. He wore dark clothing and a balaclava. He didn’t speak.”
Amelia cursed. “Come down to the department. Tell us everything.”
“I will,” she promised, tying off the end of the bandage with one hand and her teeth. “But not yet. I need to get a hold of his personal laptop. Did you find it?”
“Come down to the station and I’ll tell you.”
“Mel, please. He was my friend.”
Her sister cursed again. “What do you think you can do, that I can’t?”
“I’m a CIA agent. My job is tracking terrorists. I can track Mark’s killer,” she said. “And I don’t have to follow the law to the letter like you do. Give me twenty-four hours.” Would the same deal work with her stubborn sister?
“I could lose my job for this.”
“Give me his laptop,” she replied. “I’ll do the rest.”
Her sister huffed. “We didn’t find a laptop. Or a phone. Or any electronic device.”
Shit.
“Twenty-four hours, Sutton. You keep me informed of all your progress. And then you report in to me. If you don’t, then you’ll see how good I am at tracking.” Amelia hung up.
Sutton dragged herself into her bedroom, suddenly so very tired. She’d boasted how she could track the killer, but without that laptop, she had nothing. She needed Mark’s phone records and access to what he’d been working on at the office.
If she went into the office, Edworthy would make her work on tracking the traitor who stole the list. What if she couldn’t find justice for Mark?
Her shoulders slumped from the guilt of not being able to keep Mark safe, and from knowing that she was alone in this, even if Tony was there for her. She sank onto her bed, the weight of the day dragging her down. Two friends gone within a month.
Her vision blurred and a vise seemed to tighten on her chest.
Anna and Mark. Both gone.
She lay back, closed her eyes. Sorrow grew heavy on her like large stones being placed one by one on her chest until she could barely breathe. She would take a moment, like Tony had said, and mourn her friends. Their loss hollowed her out and made her shoulders curve inward. She curled on her side, her breath shuddering out of her, and wept.
At just past noon, Ryan stood across from Silas in his office at the Department of Homeland Security. Silas stood about six three, just a touch taller than Ryan, but Ryan had a bit of muscle on the younger man. His dark brown-black hair dusted with gray had been cut into an almost mirror image of his own. Half business, mostly military.
He shook Silas’s hand. “How’s Maggie?” Ryan asked, mentioning the man’s wife. “Things are going well?”
Silas’s hard face seemed to soften just for a moment. “Maggie’s...good.”
A twist of jealousy hit Ryan. Jesus, he wanted that in his life. He shook off the melancholy. That wasn’t for him.
Silas sat behind his desk, leaned back in his chair, and eyed Ryan. “What about you? Any thoughts of settling down?”
Ryan barely restrained himself from snorting. “Tried it. It didn’t work out.” The image of the woman who’d chosen her career over him sent a pang through him, but it wasn’t quite as sharp or cutting as it once had been. “We both had intense careers.” He tried to shrug it off, but from Silas’s frown, he hadn’t pulled it off. “Anyway, now I’m consulting.”
“You’re teaching leadership to a bunch of suits. I knew flaking on the beach every day would bore you.”
Ryan laughed and shook his head. “Nothing compares to the teams.”
“Isn’t that the truth.”
Ryan looked around the office. Silas had been an exceptional SEAL officer. He’d been medically released after he’d damaged his back. “You seem to have landed on your feet.”
Silas gave a one-shouldered shrug. “I like what I do. It matters.” He studied Ryan. “What about you? Do you like it? Does it matter?”
Silas was asking whether his job fulfilled him. Ryan sighed. “Well, the people aren’t all assholes. And I’m making a hell of a lot more than I did before, but...”
“But it’s not spec ops.” Silas waved a hand. “I get it. You don’t need to say anything else.”
Ryan didn’t want to discuss his personal life or lack of it anymore. “Tell me why you called me in here.”
Silas leaned forward and his gaze lit up with intensity. “I’ve created a covert joint agency task force within the DHS where I can bring operators and analysts from different branches together for missions.”
Ryan thought about that for a moment. “How many different branches?”
“All of them. You could have CIA, FBI, DHS, or military personnel on a team. I pick who I need based on their skill set.”
“That sounds like a clusterfuck waiting to happen.” Joint agency teams never worked. “They’ll all want to be top dog.” His shoulders slumped a little. Damn, he hadn’t realized he’d had such high hopes coming here.
“Yes,” Silas continued. “That’s always the problem with teams like this. They could be the most brilliant combination of people, but no one can control them.” He shrugged and his voice turned a bit sly. “No one except for a Navy SEAL commander.”
That stopped Ryan and his excitement grew, though he tried not to show it. “You want me to run a team?”
Silas nodded and a tiny quirk of a smile crossed his face. The bait had been set and Ryan didn’t care that he’d fallen for it.
“You, like your peers, are used to command in incredibly adverse conditions,” Silas said. “You’ve worked with and integrated special operators from other branches into your teams as well as operators from other countries. You could easily control any team I come up with.”
“I’m not a fucking politician,” Ryan stated. He needed to get that out right now. “I know the kind of people who usually work at DHS. And I’m not one of them.”
“I don’t want or need a politician,” Silas said. “I want you to join my Bone Frog Command. A secret division of the DHS that has no need of political skills and every need of a qualified Navy SEAL commander.” Silas waved a hand. “I don’t care how rough you get or if you swear like the sailor you are. I need your help. Your country needs your help.”
Ryan swallowed the hook willingly and finally let himself smile. “What do you want me to do?”
“I have a team and a mission I’d like you to command. One that’s time sensitive. And after that’s done, I’d like to be able to call on you for special assignments when they come up.”
Ryan didn’t even have to think about it. “I’m in.”
Silas checked his watch. “Why don’t we go to the briefing room and you can meet your team and hear the mission.”
Ryan jerked a little in surprise. “You already have a team assembled?”
“We have a situation that’s turned urgent.” He picked up a file from his desk. “We need to get up and running now.”
“Why me if it’s so urgent?” Ryan was new to all this. Why didn’t Silas just ask someone he already had on board?
Silas pressed his lips together. “Because you’re in DC and your SEAL team had one of the best records for hunting down terrorists. I need the best tracker I can find.”
Already, a sense of purpose thrummed in Ryan. To track down a terrorist would fill the void in him that needed more than teaching.
“Let’s do it.”
Sutton walked along the beach, her hand held in his strong, warm grip. His presence beside her made her feel secure. Content. Loved. Waves washed the shoreline, almost touching her bare feet. She laughed and kicked some water at him.
He grinned, his dark hair tousled by the breeze. “Are you sure you want to do that, Sunshine?”
Happiness welled up inside her at the nickname, at his smile, at her growing love for him. She grinned back, unable to stop herself, and kicked water at him again. She shrieked like a child when he chased her down the sand. He was right behind her. She ran faster.
The image blurred. It was night. Colder. She was running on pavement. She must go faster. Too late. She was too late. The shriek turned to raw screams. Two men dragged Anna into a van. Her hand reached out. Almost there. She couldn’t go faster. The van door closed on Anna’s terrified face.
No!
Sutton bolted upright.
She panted and her heart thundered. The dream that had started so nicely had ended as the same nightmare she’d been having for a month. She took deep breaths, calming her heart. Across from her bed, the picture of the beach hung on her wall. She focused on it, willing the nightmare and all the feelings it conjured away. The beach in the picture, with its rippling sand, white crested waves, and glowing sunset, was from the first part of her dream.
It must have been the last thing she’d seen before she’d fallen asleep. She clung to the emotions evoked by the first dream. She hadn’t really focused on her life from ten years ago in a long time.
It had been a time when an amazing team of special ops warriors had had her back. The days when she’d been attached to a SEAL team had been some of the best in her life. They’d targeted, hunted, and captured high-level insurgents. It had been fulfilling and exciting work.
But best of all, she’d been working with Ryan Marchetti.
It had been{* ten years since she’d seen Ryan. She’d heard rumors he’d retired. Was he living in peace in his beach house? Personally, she expected him to go crazy with boredom within a month, but he’d never listened to her. He had set goals for himself in his career and his life and he never veered from them. It was one of the reasons they’d broken up. He couldn’t accept that her job had been so important to her. That she’d loved it so much she’d chosen it over settling down with him.
But she hadn’t chosen it over Ryan—just over the settling down part. But Ryan had wanted all or nothing. He’d wanted her by his side even though he hadn’t been willing to give up being a SEAL.
She huffed a breath and got up. He hadn’t even tried to understand. She’d still wanted to see him; she just hadn’t wanted to give up her career. Admittedly, he hadn’t wanted her to stop being an agent—he’d just wanted to spend more time together, for her to take on less missions.
But he hadn’t offered to do the same.
None of that mattered now. Sunlight streamed into her bedroom from the south-facing window. She’d wasted time falling asleep, even if her body had obviously needed it. It was early afternoon now.
She changed her shirt and brushed out her hair. She’d go into the office and tell Edworthy to stuff it if he ordered her off Mark’s murder investigation.
Her phone rang and she checked the number. “Hey Tony. I’m on my way in.”
“Shit,” he said. “I think you might want to hold off on that.”
“What do you mean?”
His sigh was extra long and extra deep. “Did you meet with Agent Costa at the cemetery yesterday?”
“Yes,” she said. “He’s a bit of a shit head.”
“He’s dead.”
She blinked. “What the fuck? How?”
He sighed again, and she was getting sick of it.
“He was shot,” he said. “Execution style, in his car. He was found early this morning. Looks like he was killed yesterday afternoon.”
Right around the time she’d seen him. “What’s going on, Tony?”
“That’s what everyone wants to ask you.”
“Then I have to come in. Explain that I had nothing to do with any of this.”
Tony didn’t say anything. “I think you should lie low for a bit.”
“What? No, I—”
“Just for a bit,” he said. “Just until I get a feel for what’s going on. I’m heading into a meeting now. I’ll call you when it’s over.”
Her gut roiled, but she trusted Tony’s instincts. They’d saved the team countless times. “Fine. But call me ASAP.”
“Copy that.” He hung up.
She clenched her fists, and stared at that picture, feeling as if she’d been caught in a large wave and tumbled uncontrollably toward a rocky shore.