| |
Stephanie tossed her bags into the trunk and slammed it shut. John leaned on her driver's side door with his arms crossed over his chest, watching her from behind his sunglasses. The sunlight glinted on his blond hair and Stephanie smiled as she walked up to him.
“And the vacation officially begins,” she said. John nodded.
“We've earned it,” he agreed. “I'm going to soak up every ray of sun I can on the beach.” He straightened up and unfolded his arms. “I still don't see why you're disappearing into the mountains. What's there to do up there?”
“Nothing.” Stephanie grinned. “That's the point.” She reached around him to open her door. “But keep your phone on,” she added as an after-thought. “I might get bored.”
“That I don't doubt,” he retorted, holding the top of the car door as she got behind the wheel. “To each his own, though. Whatever it takes to recharge.” He leaned forward and looked down at her. “Take the time to relax.”
“Oh, I plan to,” Stephanie answered, starting the engine. She glanced up when John made no move to step back. “What?”
“I know you're bothered about Lina,” he said seriously. “You have to let her go.” Stephanie stared up at him.
“I'll let her go after I thank her for saving my life,” she retorted.
John opened his mouth as if to say something, but apparently thought better of it. He nodded instead, pushed her door shut, and watched as she backed out of her spot. He waited until she pulled out of the parking lot before turning and slowly walking back to his own car. The motorcycle was locked up at his apartment and he was sporting his old Firebird today. John slid behind the wheel and sat for a minute thoughtfully.
Alina always loved this old Firebird. John ran a hand over the top of the dash and glanced over to the passenger seat. The leather seats were worn and cracked, but she used to say it was a classic. His eyes fell on a gray, burnt patch on the passenger’s floor. He stared at it, remembering the smell of burning carpet and cigarette smoke, and her laughter as she realized that the carpet was smoldering. They had been parked outside his friend's house when they started fighting. John frowned slightly. He couldn't remember the cause, but he remembered the make-up vividly. It had led to the burn mark on the floor. Her cigarette had fallen unnoticed and burnt all the way down to the filter, leaving a two inch burn in the floor before it ignited and started smoldering. Even then, it had been quite a while before either of them had noticed anything.
John lifted his eyes from the damaged floor and turned the key in the ignition. The engine growled to life and he pressed the gas gently, revving it. Alina had been more upset over the burnt carpet than him. It had led to yet another attempt to quit smoking, an attempt that failed when they got word that her brother had been killed in Iraq.
John pulled himself back from the past and put the car in reverse. He had no intention of going to the shore.
He was going to find Lina.
A soft ocean breeze blew into the study, carrying the unmistakable scent of saltwater and sand, while the soothing sound of waves crashing onto the beach flowed into the study as if it were part of the decor. The sun had disappeared and the beach out back was bereft of moonlight, leaving it dark and mysterious. The beach was private property, belonging to the house and rigorously guarded. This house was a fortress, yet still a summer home away from home.
Frankie Solitto had a few residences. Running the Jersey Family had made him a very rich man, and this particular house on the Jersey shore was the pride and joy of his wife of twenty-odd years. She was in residence from before Memorial Day until well after Labor Day, spending her days on the beach and her nights either on the stone patio outside or at the casinos in Atlantic City. Tonight, she was in Atlantic City. Alina had watched her leave over an hour ago.
Frankie was in the dining room, finishing his dinner. His guards were on patrol on the beach and surrounding the house within the terracotta-colored privacy wall. No one could get in or out without their knowledge, and absolutely no one was allowed in Frankie's private study without him. Ever.
Viper sat comfortably in a leather chair in a dark corner of the study, waiting.
She had left Damon at the cabin two hours away with misgivings. It wasn't that she didn't trust Hawk. At least, that was what she told herself. It was just that she was uneasy leaving him unattended with her equipment. When she left, he was fixing his tire and tinkering around with the engine on his Jeep, but she knew Hawk. He would get curious and start poking around. She knew this because she would do the exact same thing in his position.
The handle on the door of the study turned suddenly, pulling Alina from her thoughts. The door opened unceremoniously and Frankie Solitto came into the room, carrying a glass with two fingers of scotch in one hand. The head of the Jersey Family let the door close behind him and Alina had ample time to study him as he walked over to his desk in front of the open French windows. He hadn't changed in three months, except to develop a much deeper tan. He was still every bit as imposing as the last time she saw him. Tall, with broad shoulders, Frankie exuded power, both physical and charismatic. A woman could easily be intimidated or overwhelmed by Frankie Solitto, and Alina was sure that more than his fair share of women had been overwhelmed by his Italian good-looks and aura of sheer authority. However, she was not one of them.
“Hello, Frankie,” she said softly.
She had waited until he set his drink on the desk before making her presence known. Frankie started, his dark eyes flying to the shadows where she sat.
“For the love of...” he started to bluster angrily, then abruptly stopped. He frowned and stepped forward from his desk. “Is that....”
“I apologize for the unexpected intrusion, but I really don't want anyone to know I've been here.” Alina reached up to switch on the standing lamp next to the chair. “Although, you may not recognize me,” she added apologetically.
Frankie stared at her sternly, his dark eyes taking in her appearance. Her red hair was pulled back into a loose braid and she was dressed in light-weight black cargo pants and a black tank top. Frankie stared at her for a long moment, struggling between anger and a reluctant grin.
“I don't care for the red,” he finally informed her, moving back to his desk to pick up his drink. Alina's lips twitched as she watched him sip his scotch.
“You're the second one to tell me that,” she said. “I really thought I made a good redhead.”
“I've known too many redheads,” Frankie retorted, perching on the corner of his desk. “To what do I owe this invasion of my privacy? I was under the impression that we concluded our business together three months ago.”
“And so we did,” Alina agreed congenially, crossing her legs. “But now I have a problem.”
“And you're calling in the favor,” Frankie stated rather than asked. Alina raised an eyebrow.
“Do you owe me one?” she asked.
Frankie frowned and swirled the amber liquid in his glass, studying her.
“The whole east coast owes you one,” he finally said. “I guess they'll never know that, though. Don't think I don't know what you did. You killed two birds with one stone that night and I, for one, will always remember that.”
“Two?” Alina raised an eyebrow. “I recall the papers only reporting one.”
“Funny thing about that...” Frankie swirled his scotch some more. “There was an awful lot of blood in a barn a few miles down on the other side of the river, but no body. My boys looked good and hard.”
Alina smiled slowly and her eyes met Frankie's in a brief look of understanding.
“Is that why you didn't reach for your gun just now?” she asked softly.
“Is it still there?” he asked in surprise. “You people have a habit of removing it when you break into my home.”
Alina allowed herself a low chuckle.
“It's still there,” she assured him. “I'm confident that I can get to mine before you can get to yours,” she added with a slow smile that didn't reach her eyes. Frankie smiled reluctantly.
“I've said it before, and I'll say it again. You find yourself at loose ends, you come see me,” he told her, sipping his drink. “I like your style, you and your boyfriend.”
“I'll be sure to pass the compliment on,” Alina replied, biting back a laugh at the thought of Hawk's face when she relayed the message.
“So, if you're not here to collect the favor, why are you here?” Frankie demanded, setting his glass on his desk and crossing his arms over his chest with the air of a man getting down to business.
“You have an associate down in DC who's been asking questions about me,” Alina told him. “Why?”
“Marty?” Frankie snorted. “He's nothing to worry about.”
“It's not him I'm worried about,” Alina retorted. “How did someone find out I had ever been to see you?”
“What says someone did?”
“Someone knew to ask Marty about me.”
Frankie stared at her for a moment and then sighed, rubbing his forehead.
“I don't know how they found out,” he admitted after a minute. “I suspect that it was Bruno, the guard you stepped into the ground last time I saw you.”
“Ah.” Alina examined her nails. “Where would Bruno be now?” she asked gently.
“At the bottom of the river,” Frankie answered bluntly. She shot a look at him under her lashes and he shrugged. “Bruno and I had some....irreconcilable differences.”
Alina watched him silently for a long moment and Frankie matched her stare for stare. After a few long minutes, she sighed.
“Here's my problem, Frankie,” she said slowly. “I know who's asking questions about me, and I know what you're telling them.”
“Nothing!” Frankie interjected quickly.
“What I really need to know is how they found out about our...connection,” Alina continued as if she hadn't heard him and Frankie found himself gazing into cold green eyes. “I really wish you hadn't put Bruno in the river.”
Frankie felt a shiver go down his spine at the look on her face.
“He went in the river before Marty came up here asking questions,” he told her. “By then, it was too late.”
“I need you to find out who put two and two together and came up with four. I doubt it was Bruno. He didn't strike me as the intelligent type.” Alina stood up fluidly. “Someone in your Family passed on information about me. That not only puts your entire Family at risk, but it puts that person at the top of my To-Do list. Trust me, I keep my To-Do list short.”
“I won't ask how,” Frankie murmured and Alina's lips curved coldly.
“Don't,” she advised. “Find your leak,” she allowed a note of steel to lace her tone, “or I'll find it for you.”
“I'll need to know how to reach you,” Frankie said as she moved toward the French windows. Viper glanced back.
“When you have something for me, tell Marty to order the Guinness Burger with extra Guinness. I'll get the message,” she said over her shoulder before disappearing into the night.
Frankie watched her go before finishing his drink in one swallow. He had thought once before that he wouldn't want to be on the wrong side of her. Now, he was dangerously close to ending up there.
Frankie slammed his glass down. He had almost been expecting her ever since that idiot Marty had come to him last week asking questions about a woman who was exceptionally skilled with a gun. Frankie had sent Marty on his way with no information, but he had known she'd be back to visit him. He had known she would ask questions, and he knew that it was past time to do what he had been putting off for far too long. Somewhere in his Family was a leak, a leak to the Feds. He had suspected it for six months.
It was time to clean house.
Hidden deep in the forest, a fire burned cheerfully within the confines of a pit dug into the earth and surrounded with large, heavy rocks. Smoke spiraled up into the night, warning the forest animals to stay away. Alina stood in the shadows at the edge of the clearing and watched as Hawk stared into the flames. He was seated next to the fire with his back to her and his broad shoulders were relaxed, his arms draped loosely around his knees. A cooler next to him beckoned faint memories of a cold beer next to another bonfire, one lit on a beach ten years ago.
Alina stared at it, her mind going back to a night that seemed another lifetime away. They had survived basic training and were leaving the next day to begin their military careers. Alina sat next to Damon on that night long ago, staring into the flames and listening to the raucous laughter of her fellow sailors. Drinking her beer, she had listened with only half an ear as they joked and laughed, still wondering what the Navy had in store for her. It wouldn't be what was undoubtedly in Damon's future. He would head into SEAL's training eventually, everyone knew that. While she would have loved to have joined him there, she couldn't at the time. No women were allowed then. Alina had been irritated by that fact all through basic training, even as she broke record after record made by men that had come before her. She had the man sitting next to her to thank for that. He was the reason she had worked so hard. Ever since they met the first week of training, they were in friendly competition with each other. It was because of him that she never gave up. She didn't begrudge him his inevitable entrance into the Special Forces. She wanted him to succeed. Alina had just wished that she had that option available to her. She hadn't known, at the time, that she would end up following a similar path after being guided into military intelligence.
Ever since that first week of training camp, their lives had been intertwined, following a parallel course and crossing every so often. Hawk had always been there, in her thoughts and even, she admitted to herself now, in her career. He was always in the distance, driving her to push herself. Hawk had become a permanent part of her life without her even realizing it.
“Are you going to come over to the fire, or just stand there lurking all night?”
Damon pulled her back to the present, calling the question without turning around. Alina smiled and moved into the clearing silently. She walked up behind him as he opened the cooler to pull out a beer. He handed it up to her, tilting his head back with a slight smile.
“Are you done for the night?”
“Yes.”
Alina took the bottle and sat on the ground next to him, pulling her utility knife from her pocket and using the bottle opener to pop off the top. She tossed the lid into the fire and stared at the flames as she took a sip of the beer. It was cold and filled with Dejá Vù.
“Good trip?” Damon asked, glancing at her.
She hadn't told him where she was going and he hadn't asked. Her eyes were unreadable as she shrugged.
“I think so,” she answered. “We'll see.”
They fell into a companionable silence, mesmerized by the dancing white and gold flames. Alina began to relax for perhaps the first time in months, lulled by the crackling wood and crickets singing around them.
“I spoke to Harry while you were gone.” Hawk broke the silence after a few moments. Alina glanced at him sharply and he grinned.
“Don't worry. Any trace will send them to Kyrgyzstan,” he assured her. “At least on my end. God alone knows where Harry will send them.”
Alina chuckled.
“And what did Harry have to say?” she asked, turning her gaze back into the fire.
Damon shifted and stretched his legs out toward the fire pit. His thigh rested against hers as he leaned back on his elbows and his eyes were dark pools in the dancing firelight. When she glanced back at him, Alina's heart thudded uncomfortably as it skipped a beat and she lifted the bottle to her lips again, hastily turning her gaze back to the fire. He looked entirely too sexy, leaning back with his biceps gleaming in the dancing light. His thigh suddenly seemed very warm and her pulse quickened in reaction.
“He sends his love.” Damon watched her turn her attention back to the fire. “Things are even better than I expected. The Organization issued a non-official statement to DHS, and all the other alphabets, saying that until they provided substantial proof of you being a national security risk, they wouldn't provide any information about you, your missions, or your possible location. They cited international security as their shield.”
He grinned as her head snapped back to stare at him.
“You're kidding!” she exclaimed.
The fire behind her cast her face in shadows, but Damon could see the grin on her face.
“Nope. Honest truth,” he told her. “Harry says Charlie flat out told DHS that they would be better off trying to find Houdini, end quote.”
“Well, that's true,” Alina agreed with a short laugh. She wasn't being cocky. The past three months had proven it to be fact. Damon watched as she tilted the bottle back again and her full lips closed over the top. He shifted his gaze quickly back to the fire, but not before his gut tightened in reaction. “Was Harry there? He heard it?”
“As far as I could understand.” Damon drained his beer. “It won't stop them all from looking, and if they catch you stateside, you're done. But this is better than I'd hoped for. It sends the message that we have the Organization's protection, at least for now.”
“Absolutely.”
Alina turned back to the fire and stared into the flames thoughtfully. The Organization was a very small section of the CIA that most people didn't even know existed, led by a man they called Charlie. It was comprised of highly-trained, specialized assassins, taught to be elite, invisible, and deadly. They were tasked with the job of doing what the government could not, or would not, do overtly. The Organization was, by its very nature, autonomous from the government and answerable only to the Director of the CIA himself. It was virtually untouchable. Those in Washington who knew of its existence were content to keep it that way. They wanted nothing to do with the necessary, but politically devastating, role that the Organization played in the international arena. If the Organization said they didn't need to know, they didn't want to know. Having the Organization's open protection was much more than Alina had hoped for.
Damon watched as Alina fell into a pensive silence; her gaze on the fire. It crackled cheerfully and sparks occasionally shot into the darkness to burn out harmlessly. The flames cast dancing shadows along her arms and bare shoulders, throwing her profile into sharp relief against the night. The red hair hung in a thick braid across the back of her shoulders and Damon had the sudden urge to undo it and pull it loose, feeling the soft strands in his fingers. His mind shot back to a night three months ago, in another clearing, in a different forest. There had been a moment, a very brief moment, when he glimpsed her true feelings, a moment when he felt them. That moment passed all too quickly, however, and their relationship had fallen back into the friendly teasing one that they had always known. The professional had returned, and the woman he discovered in New Jersey had disappeared. Damon watched the fire play now against her skin, wondering if that Jersey girl was still there somewhere, dormant while the professional was focused, deep in thought.
Viper was going over her plans in her head, looking for weaknesses, looking for flaws.
He knew her well and knew that her mind was far away. Hawk dragged his eyes away from her and back to the dancing flames. He would leave what happened between them three months ago in the past and go along with her plans, working next to her once more. He would give her more time to decide just how she felt and, more importantly, what she was going to do about it. But once this was over, once they were free, they were going to have a long talk. There was only so much he was willing to endure, and working next to her without touching her was just about going to hit his limit.
“What's wrong?” her voice pulled his gaze back to her. Alina was watching him, her eyes dark in the shadows.
“What makes you think something's wrong?” Damon asked, looking up at her.
“You looked very resolute just now,” she told him. Damon met her gaze steadily.
“Did I?” he asked quietly. Alina's eyes narrowed.
“What were you thinking about?” she demanded.
Hawk smiled slowly, his eyes glittering in the darkness.
“Hunting,” he said softly.
Alina shivered unconsciously at the tone in his voice. It washed over her like hot velvet and goosebumps pricked along her neck. The air between them was suddenly charged with tension and she caught her breath, her heart thudding again. She stared at him, watching as the shadows on his face flickered with the flames. His eyes were dark and unreadable, watching her steadily.
“How's that working out for you?” she finally got out, her voice just as soft.
The firelight danced in his dark eyes and Damon's slow grin was downright sinful.
“I've never lost yet,” he purred.
Alina swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. Her lips curved despite herself and she shook her head slightly before finishing her beer. She could feel him watching her and was thankful for the combination of darkness and firelight which concealed the heat flooding her cheeks. Her heart thudding in her chest, Alina set her empty bottle down carefully. She was silent for a long moment, avoiding his steady gaze, while her mind clamored over the pounding emotion for some kind of articulate response.
“Everyone loses eventually,” she finally whispered.
Damon sat up swiftly and silently. When he spoke, his mouth was right behind her ear.
“Not everyone,” he murmured.
Alina turned her head, ready with a retort, and found his eyes inches from hers. Her reply flew out of her mind as she locked onto his eyes. They were dark blue and glittering and when they dropped to her lips, her stomach rolled over and her heart started pounding again. Hawk saw the pulse beating at the base of her throat and smiled slowly, raising his eyes back to hers.
Alina was having trouble catching her breath. There didn't seem to be enough air for both of them. Firelight danced across Damon's face and his eyes were dark, filled with lazy passion that he couldn't conceal. Her eyes dropped to his lips and he leaned forward, closing the few inches between them. His lips were warm and firm and they sent a shock of desire straight through her. Alina couldn't think anymore. She could only feel. Her lips parted on their own and passion took over. Heat shot through her, clear to her toes, and she lifted her hand to lightly grasp the side of his shoulder.
That was all the encouragement Damon needed. He slid his hand behind her head, his fingers sliding into the warmth of her hair at the base of the braid, and tilted his head slightly. The kiss became demanding and she sighed into him as passion exploded between them. Desire rocked through her in waves and Alina lost herself in the explosion. Her arm found its way around Damon's shoulders and she clung to him for support. In the back of her mind, the intensity of her reaction to him alarmed her, but desire was taking full control over her thoughts. Her heart pounding in her ears, Alina leaned into his solid warmth, allowing the emotion to sweep her along with the tide. It was a few moments before she realized that she was responding without any consideration for anything other than the man in her arms. She couldn't think at all and, with a sudden start, she came to her senses.
Pulling away, Alina got shakily to her feet, abruptly breaking the spell. Her breathing was ragged and she took a deep breath, trying to calm the blood pounding through her veins. Damon stifled a groan and flopped onto his back. He watched her step over him, bending down to collect their empty bottles, his own breathing ragged and his heart pounding.
“You're killing me, Viper,” he muttered.
Her low laugh lingered as she headed back toward the cabin.
“You'll live,” she shot back over her shoulder.
Damon twisted his head to watch her walk across the grass toward the house. Her long legs moved her fluidly into the darkness and she disappeared into the night. He sighed, returning his gaze to the sky. The sudden burst of desire had shaken them both, that much was clear. Well, at least he had one question answered.
The Jersey girl was most definitely still there.
“Soon,” he promised the night sky quietly. “She can't run forever.”