Jazz had never hiked with a woman this long before. He had to admit it, he’d had doubts about Vivi’s stamina, but she’d once again proven him wrong. They’d traveled at a fast clip the past four hours and she’d stopped only once, to take off the, by then, soggy and muddy socks he’d given her.
“I’d rather go barefoot,” she’d told him.
“You might cut yourself,” he’d warned.
“I’ll take the risk. Besides, we’re far away enough to signal T.”
It was getting very muggy again. Each breath was like breathing in liquid heat. He watched Vivi wipe away perspiration on her sleeve, leaving a smear of dirt on her cheek. He offered her a drink from his small canteen, then pointed at the canopy of trees nearby.
“As soon as we’ve activated your locator, we’ll head over to the shade and wait.”
“Sounds like a brilliant idea.” She smiled. “If I weren’t so tired, I’d race you over there. Besides it isn’t fair you have shoes.”
Most women would complain about the suffocating heat, but Vivi had not only kept up with him, she’d injected humor into the situation. He grinned at the sight of her blackened feet.
“I offered to carry you,” he reminded her.
“For four hours? You wouldn’t be quite this perky,” she lightly mocked back as she handed back the canteen.
He made a face. “Please. SEALs aren’t perky.”
She grinned, then eyed a specific area of his body. “If you say so,” she said. Without warning, she started taking off the black shirt. She unhooked the front of her bra and worked a finger inside the cup, giving him glimpses of her nipple. When she looked up, her eyes had a definite twinkle. “It’s getting perky again.”
Jazz’s lips quirked. “That’s my personal locator,” he informed her.
She laughed. “Do you think, while we wait, Perky can help me find something?”
Oh yeah. Definitely.
***
Whoever . was, she was remarkably quick. Within an hour, the unmistakable thumping drone of a helicopter was heard in the distance. Jazz reluctantly lifted his head.
“You know, we should have activated that thing in your bra a little later,” he complained, half meaning it. Part of him wanted to spend more time here, talking with and touching each other. It had given him a chance to get to know Vivi better, and he didn’t want it to stop.
“Ummm,” Vivi agreed. “Do that again.”
“Babe, the copter will be here any second now.” The thumps were getting louder. “We need to signal them.”
“Okay.”
They ran to the clearing where they’d planted the locator. Vivi shaded her eyes and pointed toward one direction. Jazz pulled her behind a tree. Just in case. One never knew. The bird flew fast and low over the trees, casting its shadow, first over the trees, then on the bare earth as it approached them. It seemed to know exactly where to land. Within minutes it set itself down and a man appeared in the doorway and waved.
“It’s Cumber. Let’s go,” Jazz shouted over the noise, holding out a hand. Vivi placed hers in his and they ran together toward the waiting helicopter.
Vivi climbed in first, with Cucumber’s help, then Jazz followed. He gave the big guy a thumbs-up.
“Up and away, buddy!” Cucumber shouted to the pilot. “Everything all right, sir?”
“A-OK. How did you get on this bird?”
“Orders. All we were told was Miss Verreau had been located. I was sent just in case you were with her since I was the only one who saw you running off toward the truck. All of us assumed you and Miss Verreau were together.”
“How’s our team?”
Cucumber gave another thumbs-up. It was too noisy to go into detail, but it was good to know his unit was intact. The big man handed them bottled water.
After a long gulp of refreshment, Jazz looked down at the landscape. From up here, the view was spectacular, showing miles and miles of pristine forest. Yet one never knew what could be hiding in there, especially near the river.
He turned when Vivi touched his arm. She moved closer and shouted into his ear.
“Thank you for saving me.”
He nodded. “My pleasure,” he said, and winked.
***
The chopper landed at a private landing strip Vivi recognized as belonging to a former asset. She told Jazz all she knew about the owner. He was now retired, and his rules were simple. No questions asked. “Rentals” were payable in cash wired to a dummy offshore account. In return, the well-equipped and tightly guarded compound was highly prized among certain circles. Two cars, with tinted windows, were waiting when they got off the helicopter.
“Why aren’t we going together?” Jazz asked, making the right assumption.
“I have to meet with my chief first. Besides, I need a bath.” She wrinkled her nose. “You, too.”
His smile did funny things to her insides. “I didn’t hear any complaints earlier.”
“That’s because I’m too much of a lady,” she teased. She noticed Cucumber’s growing interest in their conversation and coughed delicately. “I’ll see you very soon, Lieutenant. Thank you once again for coming to my aid.”
She turned away before she succumbed to the temptation of kissing him goodbye and briskly walked toward the car driving up slowly, indicating that it was for her. The back door clicked open, and she slid inside. The air-conditioned interior brought immediate relief.
“Everything okay?” T asked, sitting at the far end. “You look terrible. Did Dilaver hurt you? If he did, I hope that absolutely gorgeous naked torso out there canceled the bastard.”
Vivi cocked an eyebrow. “You sound worried, Chief.” She was going to ignore the comment about Jazz’s body.
“Your kidnapping was an unexpected turn of events.”
“You did calculate the off chance of it happening, though, or you wouldn’t have given me the locator,” Vivi pointed out. T sometimes seemed psychic when it came to preparation for the unexpected. “So why the worry, Chief?”
“You’re a friend, Viv. And I know Dilaver.” T tapped the divider between the front seat and the back, letting the driver know they were ready to go. “I was glad when I heard Lieutenant Zeringue had gone off after you. Here, have a drink, darling.”
Vivi turned to catch the last sight of Jazz talking to Cucumber as the car turned. “Dilaver caught me by surprise,” she admitted. She only did it because this was her chief; she hated acknowledging any weaknesses to anyone, but it would have come up during debriefing anyway. “The situation was sticky but I got out of it without killing him. It would have ended our operation if Jazz had canceled him.”
“Not necessarily. I have contingency plans.”
That didn’t surprise her. “But it would have been problematic,” Vivi said.
T smiled slightly. “One less Dilaver in this world...” She shrugged offhandedly.
Vivi relaxed against the leather seat of the car, wincing slightly. The skin on her back felt dry and stretched, and the scratches were beginning to sting. “You’ve taught me a known enemy is better than an unknown one. A new Dilaver would be less predictable in our calculations, if there is such a thing as a predictable killer.”
“What happened to your back?”
Vivi sighed. She’d hoped T wouldn’t notice. “I fell and the ground was rocky,” she said carefully. Maybe changing the subject would help. “Update me on the operation—how are the girls? Tell me about Masked Man.”
T studied her for a long moment, then as if she was satisfied Vivi wasn’t really injured, she nodded. “I’m sending a Medic to check on you before debriefing. The operation was a success. None of the girls was injured and they’re now in a safe house. As for our prisoner, he showed quite a bad temper over how he was tricked. There’s quite a bit to tell, the most interesting of which is his identity.”
“Who is he?”
“Our man claims to be one of the Triad brothers. Not the big three, but one of them, anyhow. He gave me a lot of interesting information I still need to verify but he wouldn’t disclose anything about Sia-Sia till you return. He can be an asset to us.”
“Do you really believe what he’s telling us?” Curiosity filled Vivi. Why was he so adamant about keeping that information from her when he could have told her all this time? “He’s still playing games.”
“Of course. That’s why I kind of like him. Fearlessness is good for an asset, yes? And a warped sense of humor.” T lightly touched Vivi’s arm. “I just want to keep you prepared, darling. Just in case Sia-Sia is already dead. That would explain why he chose not to contact you until I showed up. Right now he might just be having a last bit of revenge for your setting up that trap.”
Vivi silently agreed. Sia-Sia could very well be dead all these years. But at least she would know for sure.
“I can’t wait to talk to Masked Man,” she told her chief. “Does he have a name?”
“He calls himself Armando Chang.”
***
At a GEM safe house at the edge of town, T gave Vivi the keys to the upstairs apartment. Hot shower. Glorious sudsy soap. A thick fluffy bathrobe. T sent up some food with a medic, who efficiently cleaned the deeper scratches with iodine to prevent infection. As expected, the shower relaxed Vivi even more, and she splashed her face with cold water.
She studied herself in the mirror. There were shadows under her eyes. Her lips looked and felt bruised. She hoped T wouldn’t notice that. T’s ability to probe everything out of someone was downright uncomfortable, and if Vivi could help it, she would rather leave out certain events from the night before.
She stifled a yawn. She would probably be less tired if she hadn’t had marathon sex. No rest for the wicked, she told her reflection in the bathroom, and frowned severely. That stupid dreamy smile popping up on her lips had to go. This wasn’t the time to think about—she sighed—how her man didn’t wear any underwear.
A knock at the door jolted Vivi out of her daydreaming. She briskly wiped her hands on the towel, determinedly pushing wayward thoughts out of her mind.
“Come on in,” she called.
T handed her some clothes. “I guess you won’t mind if we burn whatever that’s left of your jungle clothing,” she said dryly. “It was very nice of Jazz to give you his shirt.”
Vivi avoided meeting T’s keen eyes as she pretended interest in the jeans and shirt. “Yes,” she said, keeping her answer short for now.
“He must really care about you. It isn’t easy to run after a speeding truck and hang on to the back for hours.”
Vivi mumbled something as she pulled the shirt over her head.
“So did he help you get over your abhorrence of military men?” T drawled.
Keeping her face bland, Vivi lifted her hair out of the shirt. T’s eyes glimmered with suppressed laughter, daring her to tell a direct lie. “He’s different,” Vivi finally admitted. Then she shrugged. “But he’s still leaving after the operation.”
“Darling, don’t be so negative.” Her chief headed for the door. “Let’s meet Mr. Chang downstairs.”
The thought of Jazz leaving was painful. Vivi shook her head. What was the matter with her? She was in the middle of an assignment. And she was also this close to finding Sia-Sia—maybe. To distract herself, she purposely brought up the list of things that needed her attention. Dealing with the Masked Man. Debriefing. Then tomorrow she had to deal with Juliana’s cut-off list. There was so much to do.
“Is he violent?” Vivi asked when they paused outside a room.
“No. In fact, I left the door unlocked today.” T knocked.
“Don’t you think that might encourage him to escape?”
“Come in,” a voice said from inside. T smiled at Vivi. “Having seen his remarkable disappearing skills, I’ve a hunch he could have escaped whenever he wanted.”
She followed T into the room. Armando Chang was lounging on the sofa watching television without the sound on. He had the remote in one hand, clicking it rapidly.
“Hello, Tess,” he greeted. His smile disappeared. “Hello again, Vivienne.”
Vivi didn’t hide her surprise. “You’re the waiter at the hotel!”
He was younger than she’d thought, too—probably mid-twenties or a little older. He nodded. “Yes.”
She turned to T. “Did you know?”
“Yes.”
“That very day? When we were lunching?”
“Well, I tested him when I first bumped into him—it was before your arrival, darling—and he refused to trip. So I tested him again at the table. He was a pretty good actor but his reflexes were a bit faster than normal.” T smiled at him. “That’s meant as a compliment.”
Armando Chang’s lips quirked. Like Vivi, he was of mixed blood, his features a mixture of East and West. He had deep-set black eyes, with a strong nose and jawline. His high cheekbones accentuated his masculine yet sensual lips. He appeared quite at home on the sofa as if he hadn’t been thoroughly vetted by T. That in itself was noteworthy because T didn’t just interrogate. She could, if she chose, exhaust a mind.
“How long have you known about me?” Vivi asked.
He directed those intense dark eyes at her. “No apologies for kicking me in the groin?” he countered.
She arched a brow. “I don’t like people walking in and out of my apartment without my permission. All these little hints that you keep throwing at me—my patience is wearing thin.”
Armando turned to T “She isn’t like you, Tess. She gets personal.”
T sat down at the far corner of the room. “Careful there,” she warned lightly. “She’s one of my best students.”
“In that case, my apologies,” he said smoothly, not sounding the least bit sorry. He turned back to Vivi. “Please be patient with me. I’ve been watching and waiting for so long sometimes I forget to be more direct. Yes, I have what you seek.”
Vivi crossed her arms. “For a price, of course.”
“Tsk, tsk, so cynical. Money talks and bullshit walks,” Armando chided. “Everything and everyone has a price, sooner or later.”
“And you call me cynical?” Vivi decided she didn’t like the man. Or trust him. She didn’t like people who didn’t talk straight. “What’s your price?”
“I already told you.”
She frowned. “T, are you going to tell me what is it Mr. Chang wants? I’m too tired right now to play guessing games.”
T sat back, looking as if she were enjoying some spectator sport. “Armando claims to be one of many Triad siblings,” she told her. “The three main brothers we know about are full-blooded relatives. However, it appears their father’s other wives have given them many half siblings. Armando is the son of the youngest wife. He gave me a name to check up and I’m still on it. His offer to GEM is quite generous. He’ll tell us as much as he knows about the Triads, from the drug dealer rings to piracy on the high seas. Being the youngest half-brother, he has limited power and is privy to very little of the family trade secrets, but while his father was alive, he had been given a Western education and groomed for certain overseas operations, Or so he claims.”
Vivi studied the man in front of her. Youngest half-sibling. His mother was obviously Caucasian. T.’s words suggested that his father was no longer alive. The possible scenario of an internal power struggle came to mind. So perhaps Armando Chang lost out. But that didn’t explain his appearance now.
“Why did you show up now?” she asked. “Or is it only recently you’ve decided to betray your kind?”
Armando’s shoulders stiffened, for the first time showing something other than quiet mockery. Interesting reaction. He didn’t like her accusing him of betrayal. A drug-dealing young gangster with a sense of honor. Well, not much, since he was here, spilling his guts about his beloved brothers. Probably petty jealousy and revenge.
“I suppose I deserve that,” he conceded, after a slight pause. “Being related to the Triad brothers brings a certain taint. My kind likes to think we’re a tight group, but, there are, you must agree, many kinds of betrayal.”
Vivi shrugged. The man liked to talk in circles. “Betrayal is betrayal. I doubt my agreeing or disagreeing makes any difference.”
“We shall see about that,” he said softly.
“Well, I’m here now. T tells me you won’t talk about the woman I’ve been looking for. So tell me what it is exactly you want and why you came to me about her at this time.”
“I didn’t see the need till now.” He nodded toward T, who was quietly listening. “I’ve been watching you for a long time. From your various disguises and work with Interpol commandos, I knew you were more than just a regular social worker, but I couldn’t figure out whom exactly you worked for because you were also asking personal questions. I was curious. I like solving mysteries. I finally found proof of what you’re looking for, but...” He shrugged. “It seemed more interesting to watch your progress.”
“Until you found out about Tess,” Vivi guessed.
“Yes. I heard about a big party in town, a major weapons dealers’ convention, so to speak, and seeing Tess with you finally gave me a clue about your background. I realized then (he dramatically crossed his fingers) our paths were going to cross one way or another. I also saw it as my way out.”
“You keep saying that phrase. Out of what?”
Armando abruptly clicked the remote, turning off the television. “Out. Poof. From one cage into another. In exchange for information about the Triads, I want your agency to get me out of this country, away from this life. Your people can give me a new identity...seeing how both of you have so many.” He swung an arm over the back of the sofa, pinning a hard gaze on Vivi. For an instant, her training helped form a mental picture of a young man used to wealth. It was in the way he sat, the sometimes polite, stilted language he used in between his strange metaphors that betrayed a childhood among older people. “You want help about the missing Sia-Sia; I want something personal in return. You’ll help someone equally important to me.”
“Who?”
“My real sister. She’s being held against her will.”
Vivi looked at T for confirmation. Her chief shrugged.
“Still verifying the former,” T said. “As for the latter, that’s your deal to make.”
“No,” Armando said, steel in his voice. “Either, or. Neither, nor. Both deals are contingent on getting my sister to safety. If Miss Verreau doesn’t agree, then I’ll be forced to think of other ways. Like maybe betraying your insider.”
Vivi gave T a questioning glance. How much did he know? T looked back serenely at them both, apparently unperturbed by the threat.
“Why are your brothers holding your sister prisoner?” Vivi asked.
“Betrayal.” His lips twisted. “I didn’t do certain things they wanted when I was overseas. But they have the ace—my sister. They made me come home and since I’m Western educated, my usable skills are now limited to dealings with Westerners here and certain accounts. I prefer that to...other things, shall we say?”
Vivi could imagine what those other things were. The Triads had their fingers in the United States underworld dealings with slavery and drugs. If Armando Chang was telling the truth, he was being subjected to emotional blackmail by his stepbrothers.
“How do I know this isn’t a trap?” she asked.
“I believe Tess can verify this. Right?”
“Yes,” T acknowledged. She seemed amused at his acting so familiar with her.
“How?” Vivi asked.
“As Armando pointed out, we have someone on the inside who can confirm his and his sister’s existence, but that’s the least important factor,” T said, her voice subtly turning neutral. “It’s your call. The question is, do you truly think the information he has on Sia-Sia is worth it? What he’s asking for ups the risk percentage significantly because now you’re asking our insider to look for someone in his environment, extract her to safety, and still finish his mission.”
Vivi wouldn’t ask that of anyone, and T knew it. “If what Mr. Chang says is true,” she said, “he’d be used to being spoilt by servants and all the trappings of wealth. Why would such a man give that up, want a new identity, and go somewhere else? We can still save your sister, regardless, so the question is, why are you putting yourself in the equation? Why ask me?”
Armando stood up and walked to the window, turning his back to them. Vivi suspected he didn’t want them to see his expression, that asking for help was something he hated. She recognized the gesture in herself; she disliked explaining herself to anyone and if she had to do it, she usually created distance either verbally or physically.
His back was very straight. “Because you understand. My sister is very dear to me and I promised to keep her safe. I don’t know where she is. All I have is some videos showing her confined in a small room somewhere. My brother assures me she’s fine but...” He finally turned and his eyes flashed with emotion for the first time. “Let’s just say I’ve seen how my family treats women. I don’t want my sister missing like your friend, who, I believe, is like a sister to you. You see, I do empathize with your loss, Miss Verreau, but your search has nothing to do with mine till now.”
He had watched her long enough to know what was important to her. Sia-Sia. Young girls victimized by circumstance. He was pulling on her emotional strings.
“You still haven’t answered the main question,” she pointed out. “Why do you choose to leave what you have?”
“Yes, I can always escape without your help. But I don’t trust you to take care of my sister, nor can I ensure her safety without me close by. The Triads are a big family, with eyes everywhere.” His voice lowered. “I don’t like my life. I don’t want to live on money that came from women and children. I wasn’t able to save my mother. Find my sister for me. Please.”
“You have a lot of confidence Vivi will agree to help you, Armando,” T said.
Armando smiled humorlessly. “I’m counting on her need to see the truth for herself. I can lead her to Sia-Sia. She’s alive. You see, she’s one of my stepsisters.”
***
After Cucumber gave him the Reader’s Digest version of events, Jazz napped during the ride back to the compound. His team was okay, except for minor injuries to Turner. Vivi’s team had suffered most of the damage, Cucumber told him, especially those on the other side of the river where the two of them had been. The big man told him how some of them had been hit in the attempt to take the trailer with the girls.
“Where are the girls now?”
“I gather they’re in some safe place,” Cucumber said, with a shrug. “Screaming girls aren’t my cup of tea.”
Vivi was going to be busy for a while. That was his last thought before he’d drifted off. He opened his eyes the moment the car’s engine cut off. It was dark.
“Underground parking,” explained Cucumber.
Jazz rubbed the back of his neck, working the crick out. “We’re under the compound?”
“Yeah. Pretty cool way to go in and out the place unseen.”
The compound sure hid a lot of things. Kind of like Vivi. She had so many different sides and he loved every one of them. The snotty Interpol officer. The sultry team task leader. The brave operative who put her life in jeopardy to save young girls. And last night...he loved the woman he’d made love to the most. So honest with her emotions. So generous with body, mind, and spirit.
A couple of flights of stairs later, he grinned at the sight of Hawk and the rest of the team. They were in what they now called the mess hall, doing what SEALs do best during down time—playing with their toys. Hawk looked up from sharpening his knives.
“Well, look what the wind blew in.”
His team greeted him raucously, asking questions and making comments about his appearance. His shirtlessness didn’t escape their notice.
“Beg your pardon, sir, but you have on your chicken lips again,” Mink said, with a knowing smirk.
“I think he graduated to goats,” Hawk observed. The others snickered. “How’s Vivi?”
One couldn’t hide much from his fellow frogs. They knew. “She wasn’t hurt,” Jazz answered the unvoiced concern. “How’s Turner?”
“Hurt one of his knees.” Joker handed a tray to Mink, who passed it to Cucumber.
“Yeah, his wee-nie,” Cucumber said, stressing on the “wee” as he gave the tray to Jazz. “We saved some of the leftover feast for ya.”
“Thanks,” Jazz said, looking at all the different small containers. “Very nice. You guys went to a Tupperware party while I was gone.”
“Eat, clean, debrief,” Hawk told him.
“With all respect, sir, he looks like he’s already been debriefed,” Dirk said, wiping hands blackened from gun oil with a cloth, “several times, last night.”
“Yeah, I want to read his After Actions Report.”
“Top Secret, I bet.”
“Yeah, well, dude, I just want to get to the bottom, which would be the more interesting part, ya understand?”
His team’s easy camaraderie was their way of telling him they were happy he was in one piece. But for the first time, Jazz didn’t want to exchange the usual male locker-room humor and easy banter. His night with Vivi—or at least, certain parts of it—was off limits.
“I’ll see you all in an hour,” he told them, as he headed toward Hawk’s and his quarters.
“What the hell is wrong with him?” he heard Mink ask as he walked out.
“Sensitive and broody, isn’t he? He doesn’t look well at all.”
“He has the female sickness, dude.”
Jazz shook his head. The Stooges—Mink, Cumber, and Dirk—were deliberately needling him in loud whispers. He paused long enough to hear the punch line.
“Yeah, Cock-Sick Shock Syndrome.”
Howls and snickers erupted. Everyone in the room was a fucking clown. Jazz slammed the door shut to their laughter.
Back in the room, he peeled off his torn and filthy clothes and threw them in a small pile near the door. He opened one of the containers and snatched up some kind of rice snack. He was starving and if he didn’t clean up now, he was going to sit here and eat and eat. Hitching the towel around his hips, he headed off again, this time to the community bath facility down the hall.
As the water beat on him, he looked at the water draining at his feet. He definitely needed the shower. Keeping clean was a luxury that SEALs didn’t usually have during an operation. He had been in situations where traveling with farm animals was the only option in or out of a region, and after a week, the animals around probably thought the men hunkered among them were their brothers. He grinned at the fleeting memory. Life was never boring.
But it was time to think about wanting more. He loved his country and his job, and hadn’t given serious thought about his future. He wanted Vivi to be a part of it. Maybe if he had something more to offer her, she would see something in him, too.
Back in his quarters, he found Hawk in the room, writing something on a notepad. He didn’t look up as Jazz went over to the dresser and pulled out the top drawer. There was the same kind of loose-fitting local garment Hawk had worn before. He pulled on the pants. They were a bit short for his long legs but it would have to do for now.
“Is Vivi really all right? Why isn’t she here?” Hawk asked.
“She went off in another vehicle, probably needed to be debriefed,” Jazz said. He paused in the middle of buttoning his shirt. “And I don’t want to hear another debriefing joke. “What are you writing?”
Hawk shrugged. “A shopping list. A letter. A will.”
Jazz frowned. That wasn’t quite Hawk’s usual thing. “Why now?”
“I was going to wait till after we hear from the admiral to tell you—”
“Mad Dog is going to talk to us?” Jazz interrupted.
“Yes, video link. It’ll be in two parts, one a private meeting with just our team and then with the joint mission.”
Admiral Madison always took time to congratulate his teams after a mission. It would be interesting to hear him address the joint mission panel. After watching Vivi at work, Jazz’s admiration for the independent contractors had grown in leaps.
But something wasn’t right. He could sense Hawk’s restlessness, even though his friend hadn’t shown any sign of it. “What were you going to tell me?”
Hawk’s expression was closed. “I’m probably going to miss Christmas. The shopping list is for you to pick up a couple of things for me and send them in my name so folks back home think I’m okay. The letter for you to keep just incase...you need to explain anything. The will...well, that’s self-explanatory.”
“You care to give me a fuller explanation of what’s happening?” Christmas was months away, so why was Hawk preparing a list now? And his words hinted at him not being with the team during that time.
“Remember when I went to help my cousin extract his girl in D.C.? I told you about Project X-S-BOT.”
Jazz nodded. “I remember. Some files in the laptop stolen from the Naval Lab. That was why Marlena was in D.C., you said—to find out who was trying to sell it.”
“Yes, and that’s how she and Steve met.”
Hawk’s cousin had been sent to D.C. to find the mole at the agency responsible for providing information that had led to several members of the admiral’s SEAL teams being killed. With Marlena’s and GEM’s help, Steve had uncovered the traitor. Through his own snatches of conversation with family members, Jazz heard there was a big scandal happening in D.C. right now. TV had been full of reports of the same traitor having sold national secrets for the last decade. He’d tuned out most of the stuff his sister had told him about security councils, public outrage, and all the political shenanigans happening back home. News never made sense, anyhow, when one was living it. However, this incident with Steve and Marlena had been of interest to the teams because they’d wanted to catch the man who had sold out their brothers.
Hawk handed him a piece of paper, indicating a need for secrecy. Jazz read the small and neat handwriting. “Recently, we have found proof of the traitors selling our high-tech weaponry secrets to arms dealers. Mad Dog made a deal with GEM. Their top operatives have been working to infiltrate several very well-known arms dealers the last few years. Marlena Maxwell in D.C. was Phase Two. Our side wants the location of the latest cache of weapons that was dropped. It has to do with X-S-BOT. I’ve been ordered to do Phase Three and GEM will facilitate my new role. I’ll be in deep cover for probably up to six months, infiltrating Dilaver’s network.”
“Alone.” It wasn’t a question. It could only be a lone assignment. One clearly couldn’t access Dilaver’s network with a team of SEALs. Jazz’s statement was meant to underline the danger of the job of working as a double agent. “What’s the assignment?”
“Find out his U.S. contacts and where he hides the ‘extra’ weapons sent by our traitors. Break down his army in zones. But most important of all, destroy the latest shipment. Then run like hell.” Hawk cracked a small smile. “With the knowledge in my head, they’ll be hunting me down. I have to pass it along to another contact just in case they capture me.”
Jesus. The KLA had, among various factions, a formidable army of gangsters. They and other Dilaver gang members would find Hawk and kill him, if they had to go house to house. His friend was foreseeing the possibility of being exterminated before he could escape, thus the shopping list, the letter, and the will.
They eyed each other for a full, sobering minute. Hawk and he had made an agreement a long time ago. If one didn’t make it, the other would take care of personal things. If by chance, one went missing, the other was to somehow do the impossible—find out whether he was dead or alive so family members could be told one day.
“You’d better come home in one piece, buddy, or I’d have to tell all those Steves and Stevens you got drunk and drowned during training,” Jazz said quietly. “They won’t believe me and I don’t feel like beating up a bunch of your relatives when they attack me for lying.”
Hawk grinned. “I’ll do my best to save your pretty face from my family.”
“And I need you back in case I need a best man,” Jazz added.
Hawk played with the pen, studying him thoughtfully. “Sure she’s the one?”
Jazz nodded. “It’ll take time to get her to come around to thinking about being with me.” He hesitated, then added, “Okay, so I don’t really know how I’m going to accomplish that.”
Not when they hadn’t actually talked about the future. So far, he’d just found out about her past.
“Find out her real name,” Hawk advised.
“What do you mean?”
“Do you know that opera called Turandot?”
Jazz walked over to the small table where he’d set all the food containers. “I need food. My twin is talking Puccini with me,” he addressed no one in particular.
“I saw the opera with Steve and Marlena in D.C.”
Now he remembered. Cucumber, Dirk, and Mink had talked about that particular night not long after their big shootout. Of course, their version had nothing to do with the opera. In fact, he recalled hearing that Cucumber had slept through the whole show.
“Okay, let’s talk Turandot,” Jazz said as he sniffed at an orange-colored concoction.
“It’s about a beautiful princess who won’t marry you unless you answer three riddles correctly. If you fail, she orders your execution.” Hawk used his pen to demonstrate a mock beheading. “Pretty cold lady.”
“So, are you trying to tell me I’m going to fail or that I’m going to win Vivi’s hand? This mango rice is delicious, by the way.”
Hawk stood up and went to join him at the table. He scooped up some of the rice with his hand. “I’m betting on you to get all those riddles right, buddy.”
“Oh, good. You’re on my side. I thought you were interested in the princess and were wishing me to be the unfortunate dead suitor.”
Hawk reached for more rice. “What, you want competition? Isn’t that a bit tough when I’m not around to win?”
Jazz pushed the container out of the way. “My food. I can’t win what’s mine.”
A smile tugged at his friend’s lips. “Touché,” he said. “Just remember one thing, and I’m telling you because I’m your best-est friend who wants to see you win your girl.”
“You’re getting soft and sentimental.”
“I’m going away for a while. Who’s going to give you all that girly advice while I’m gone? Are you letting your sisters do your work for you?”
Jazz shuddered. He could just see all his sisters around Vivi. They loved him fiercely and would probably scare Vivi to death with instructions and questions. “Fine. Tell me what to do, Dear Abby.”
“The princess has a riddle, man. Answer it.”
Jazz chewed for several seconds. “You’re kidding right? You’re asking me to follow an opera’s storyline. That’s your girly advice?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, it sucks.”
“Think it over tonight while you jerk off.”
“I’d rather think of Vivi, thank you.”
They bantered lightheartedly for a few minutes before Hawk went back to his desk. They had to go to debriefing soon. Jazz ate quietly, watching his friend write. It was sort of macabre to eat and observe Hawk taking measures against an uncertain future. Just in case.
Time was so precious in this world. He wanted Vivi in it. In a perfect future, he would wish for his best friend to be there for his wedding.
“It’d be a pleasure to get to kiss such a beautiful princess bride,” Hawk murmured without looking up, uncannily reading his mind as usual.
“I might even let you, my friend.”
A riddle, huh? He’d better brush up on his Turandot story.