Berit rolled her shoulders and stretched her neck. She’d been staring at her computer all morning, delving into the lives of her new friends. Part of her felt terrible for looking so deeply into their pasts. The other part of her knew it was her job, which demanded her to do things she really didn’t like doing.
Several things she found fascinating. Elizabeth Saint Clare was the only translator who was ever given conversations of Nassar al-Jamil. He, and his most senior men, kept her busy.
Matthew’s files left her with more questions than answers. His background looked expertly contrived. There were little telltale signs that only an experienced agent would see. Ten to twelve years ago, CIA artificial backgrounds looked very different than they do today. Thanks to computers, the Internet, and massive databanks, with just a few clicks and keystrokes, Berit could look at a copy of anyone’s second grade report card. Matthew Saint Clare didn’t have one nor was there any record of him attending the elementary school claimed during the vetting process. Only surface information was available until his accident, but even that was suspicious.
Exactly what happened was never defined. Where wasn’t either. Those blatant omissions were extremely strange given that he was supposedly one of their top assets in Syria. She was, though, able to see that he spent several months in the U.S. military hospital in Germany before being transported to Walter Reed Military Medical Center on the other side of DC. Probing deeper into the medical records, she discovered that his face was completely rebuilt by the now-famous Dr. Jessica Kessler, plastic surgeon to movie stars. She’d spent five years in the Army practicing on the worst cases imaginable. Matthew had been one of her greatest triumphs. The two had also had an affair. Actually, Matthew Saint Clare had been a bit of a horn dog, often carousing with Gabriel Davis. Their decade-long friendship rang bells of warning.
Teagan was exactly as she expected, to Berit’s relief. She truly liked the woman. Previously an Army officer, Teagan had been an excellent helicopter pilot in the Army and would have made it a career except her mother had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s at a very early age. As an only child, care was left to her, so she resigned her commission and went to work for the government specializing in helicopters.
Logan and Micah were exemplary military officers. She enjoyed reading how Micah climbed the ranks and how the two had remained friends after the Syrian botched mission. She’d already explored the personal side of both and didn’t bother reading through that again.
Just to be thorough, she looked into Gabriel Davis’ files. She was surprised at the depth that her position allowed her to go. She skimmed through his vetting files and was surprised to find he had been recruited while in college by Joseph Lambert. Gabe’s first undercover job was infiltrating a group of radical Muslims on campus. She was shocked at how little information there was about those interactions, especially compared to the detailed files on most other missions.
Out of curiosity, she clicked on the link for Joseph Lambert. He’d been brought to the United States as an infant as part of a Christian rescue of children from a refugee camp in Iraq. He was raised by a Baptist minister and his wife in Blakely, Georgia close to the Alabama line. Since he’d been brought over as a baby, there was no birth certificate or previous name. He’d been a good student and attended Georgia Tech. Once he’d been recruited by the CIA, he worked as a handler for several years throughout the Middle East, then returned to headquarters. For the past twenty-five years, he primarily worked in human resources and supply, what agency insiders considered the softer side.
To be equally fair, Berit then explored Noah Hennel. His father had been an Army general and he followed in his footsteps from West Point all the way through an alpha team commander in Special Forces. Their paths separated when Noah was recruited to the CIA. He spent a few years in the special operations group where he interacted with Gabriel Davis and Joseph Lambert who both ran local offices at the time. Noah moved through the management ranks of clandestine services for the next two decades and worked his way up to director of operations.
The only connection she could find was the Middle East. Tugging that thread, she hunted for information on the Syrian mission that involved Elizabeth and Mason Sinclair, Logan, Teagan, and Micah. She could find hardly anything.
Under the joint task force, there was a brief mention that the team was gearing up for an anticipated mission to blow up a munitions dump, but that was about all. Backtracking, she opened the files under each name. The mission was highlighted as a link but when she clicked on it, nothing happened. She was a far cry from the computer geniuses they employed in the subbasement, but she could think outside the box.
Redirecting, she logged into USSOCOM. Although it was a relatively new command, records of previous similar agencies had been transferred to their database. To her surprise, she again found very little. The names of the players, which she already knew, the fact that Mason Sinclair had died during the mission, another piece of old news, and that the mission was to blow up a Russian supplied ammo dump. Again, nothing new. The individual after-action reports were missing.
She leaned back in her chair and stared at her screen. Where the hell were all of those files? Or the better question, why the hell did someone go to all the trouble of destroying them everywhere? They were thorough and precise.
Glancing at her watch, Berit decided she had time to visit Director Hennel before she was to meet Micah to look at another condominium.
Excitement bubbled up at just the thought of seeing him once again. She’d resigned herself to a possible date when he returned, most likely after the first of the year. She was shocked when he called while waiting for Austin in the parking lot at the school. When he’d suggested grabbing lunch afterwards, she’d actually given a small fist pump. It wouldn’t be long now, but she first had to see her former boss.
After getting the go-ahead from his secretary, Berit entered his large office. “Thanks for seeing me on such short notice.”
“Let’s sit over at the table,” Hennel suggested. “What do you have for me?”
When she worked for him, she made a point to never mince words. “I don’t believe any of them are spies.”
“Neither do I.” His response was the opposite of what she’d expected.
“Then why the hell did both you and Director Lambert want me to infiltrate their tight little circle of friends?” She didn’t withhold the anger from her voice.
He leaned forward with flat palms on the table. “Lambert asked you to spy on them?”
“Yes. I was called to his office—” She stopped midsentence. “When I got to his office, I knocked and swore he said come in. But when I stepped inside, he was talking to someone in Arabic on a satellite phone. It’s been a long time, so I’m not as familiar with the language as I used to be. I only caught words here and there, just enough to recognize it was Arabic.” She mentally ran through the files she’d just reviewed. She didn’t remember seeing Arabic listed under his languages. And maybe it wasn’t even Arabic. There were languages in northern Africa that sounded quite similar.
“And he asked you to spy on them?” Hennel prompted.
“Yes. He was thrilled that I already made inroads into a relationship with Teagan and now one with Micah.” At the sound of his name, Berit wondered if she was getting too soft for fieldwork, or was it that she was attracted to Micah? She truly didn’t want to spy on them. She wanted to get to know them all, make friends. She didn’t want to turn them into assets.
“Are you seeing the captain socially?” His question gave her pause.
“If you can call giving him a woman’s opinion on a home…socially, then yes.” She wasn’t going to tell him about their role-playing in front of the real estate agent, but she was thrilled to death to have the opportunity to walk through another house with him in an hour.
“What if they’re just a tightknit former team trying to solve the murders of their friends?” She knew she was pleading their case.
Hennel stared off in the distance. “I don’t know what they are other than the key to unlocking the cage to the moles inside this agency.” He turned to face her. “Stick with them. There’s something there, I know it.”
“Yes, sir.” She stood, and so did he.
“Berit, I want you to be extremely careful. I don’t trust your boss, especially after what you just told me. I had to work with Joseph while I was on SOG. He may come across as this grandfatherly curmudgeon, but take my word for it, he doesn’t let anything, or anyone, get in his way. He doesn’t hesitate to write off collateral damage.” Hennel stared in her eyes. “He has no respect for women or human life at all. Until this is over, stay as far away from him as you can.”
She raised one eyebrow. “That may be more than a little difficult. He is my boss.”
Noah Hennel put his hand on her shoulder and looked at her beseechingly. “Berit, we’ve worked together for a long time. I don’t want you to…get hurt.”
She noticed that he didn’t say dead.
“I’ll be careful,” she promised.
Two hours later, Berit sat across from Micah at one of the best Turkish restaurants in Crystal City. Best, by her standards, dealt with the quality of the food, not linen tablecloths.
“That place is just perfect for you.” She bit into a lamb kebab.
“I like the layout much better than the one we saw yesterday,” Micah agreed.
“The fireplace in the living room was perfect.” She dabbed the corner of her mouth with the colorful cloth napkin. “Those logs looked real, but one click of a button and you have a fire.”
“Are you fishing for an invitation to come over and curl up in front of my fireplace?” He poured more tea into their small cups.
She smiled back at him. “I wish my home had a fireplace. I love curling up in a big chair and listening to the fire crackle while I read a book.”
“Tablet or paperback?” Micah challenged.
She held up her hands. “Carpal tunnel. Although I love the texture of holding the paper in my hands, I had to switch to digital books about ten years ago.” She pulled out her tablet. “I probably have two hundred books on this little baby. Every chance I can steal, I’m reading.”
“Fiction or non-fiction?” He took a bite of his spicy rice mixed with vegetables.
“Fiction. I need an escape from reality,” she confessed.
“Don’t tell me you’re addicted to science fiction?” His teasing grin tickled her senses. “If you’re into aliens attacking the world, life on Mars, intergalactic wars, we’re just going to have to stop right now.”
She giggled. “No, I like mysteries and suspense. I’m big on whodunits.” She leaned forward and in a conspiratorial low voice confessed, “I have always loved Agatha Christie books. I read every book by Dan Brown but I don’t really care for Stieg Larsson or Lee Child. Stephen King scares the shit out of me, but I read his books anyway. I could go on but I’m curious, what kind of books you read?”
“Nonfiction. I’m currently on a Winston Churchill kick. That man is fascinating, at least to me.” He cut another kofte in half and soaked the meatball in the tomato sauce.
“Did you catch the documentary series on Churchill? I think it was on the History Channel.” She picked up her last doner, a pita pocket stuffed with lamb and vegetables, and took a messy bite.
“I don’t watch much television.” He gave her a self-deprecating grin. “Except for Jeopardy. That’s my go-to while eating supper.” He finished the last of his curried rice.
Nodding her head, she swallowed quickly. “Me too!” She sipped her tea to help it down. “I enjoy competing with the contestants. It’s a good thing I eat alone because I get kind of loud sometimes.”
“What else do you watch on TV?” He dabbed the corners of his mouth with a napkin before laying it on the table.
“I do watch the History Channel now and again, and I simply love cooking shows.” She drank the last of her tea before setting the small cup down. “Mostly, though, I prefer to read.”
Her cell phone buzzed. She’d turned off the ringer when she met Micah at the condominium so she could give her undivided attention to him. She ignored it.
Less than a minute after it stopped, it buzzed again. They obviously didn’t leave a voicemail.
“Why don’t you go ahead and take that. They sound insistent.” Micah looked away and signaled for the check.
When Berit pulled her phone from the outside pocket of her purse, she was astonished to see several text messages from Mak. He’d also been the one to call just then. Deciding to check the text messages first, she pressed on the screen but the phone shook in her hand. Mak. Again. Something must be terribly wrong.
“Mak, are you okay?” Worry flashed through her.
“Mom, thank Christ you finally answered.” He sounded desperate. “I need you to come to Virginia Beach, right now.”
“Mak, calm down.” She was using her best motherly voice, but it didn’t seem to be working.
“Mom, I mean it. I need you to leave right now and come to my house.”
“Mac, what’s the matter? Are you hurt?”
“No. I’m fine.” Then he corrected himself. “Well, my ribs are still broken but they’re healing. That’s part of the reason that I need you here. I have to report in tomorrow morning at zero five hundred. That’s why you have to be here before then.”
She heard several men’s voices yelling in the background.
“I gotta go, Mom. Bye. I love you.” But he didn’t hang up. “You’ll stay through the weekend, right?”
Before she could answer, Mak had discontinued the call.
“Berit, are you okay?” Micah’s voice sounded far away.
She didn’t know if she was okay. If her boy was in trouble, then no, she wasn’t anywhere near okay.
“I’m terribly sorry, Micah, but I’ve got to leave.” She scooted to the end of the booth. “I’m not sure what’s going on, but Mak needs me. I have to get to Virginia Beach as soon as possible.”
“You’re in luck. I’m headed there.” He stood and reached out his hand to help her up.
She stood on shaky legs, her mind racing in a hundred directions. She had to go home and pack a bag because he’d said that he needed her there over the weekend. She should call her boss and let him know that she’d be off a few days. What the hell else did she have to do? Berit was certain she was missing several steps.
Micah stepped into her personal zone and wrapped his arms around her. His big hand pressed her head against his shoulder. “Whatever it is, we’ll handle it.”
We? We’re now a we?
She tried to lift her head, but he kept it pressed to him. There was something very comforting about the way he held her. It was as though he was protecting her from anything bad.
But whatever it may be ahead for her and Mak, she had to get to Virginia Beach and face it. “Thank you for the offer but—”
Micah cut her off. “You’re in no condition to drive three and a half hours. I’ve already paid the bill. I’m going to follow you to your townhouse where you’ll change into comfortable clothes for traveling. I heard you mumble something about spending the weekend.”
“I don’t mumble,” she insisted.
He chuckled and kissed her on the forehead. “Okay, you were talking quietly to yourself, then.”
“I’m sure I was. It’s a bad habit of mine but I find if I talk things out, I can organize the situation better.” She slid into her coat, using the time to get a grip on her emotions. When it came to her son, worst scenarios always worked their way through first. “Thank you for offering,” she tried again.
“No matter what, I’m following you to your home. If you insist on driving yourself, then we’ll be our own miniature convoy all the way to Virginia Beach.” He certainly was adamant.
“Fine. I couldn’t stop you if you wanted to follow me and I don’t have time to lose you like a tail.” She picked up her purse. “Let’s go.”
When she pulled out of the parking lot, he was right behind her. Two lights later, she could have lost him by gunning through on the yellow, but knowing him, he might’ve followed her even though it was red.
The closer she got to her townhouse, she began to wonder if he’d come in. She didn’t want him sitting in the parking lot so she’d invite him in. She mentally scanned her home, wondering what he would think of it. Bras hanging in her laundry room flashed into her mind. She scoffed at herself. He would have no reason to look in the laundry room and big deal if he saw her bras hanging there. She was certain he’d seen bras before. He’d removed enough of them according to his file.
The thought of him removing her bra then cupping her bare breasts, gently massaging them before rolling the nipples between his thumb and forefinger filled her mind like an X-rated movie. She could practically feel him kissing her neck, sucking on her breasts before he opened-mouth kissed his way down, spreading her legs apart with his palms before he parted her wet folds with his thumbs and lick—
The ring tone on her phone told her it was Mak. Before she could even say hello, he asked, “Are you on your way yet?”
“No. I just got home.” She pulled into her parking space and was out the door, speed walking toward her home. “Now, are you sure you only need me over the weekend? Do I need to bring enough clothes to stay for a week?” She unlocked the front door and stepped inside, quickly punching in the security code.
Someone stepped up behind her.
She reached for her gun, phone still to her ear.
A large hand covered hers before she was able to extract her gun from her holster.
“It’s just me, Wonder Woman.” His front was pressed against her back, his hand over hers under her jacket. The warmth of his fingers spread quickly through her silk blouse, warming the small of her back. The moist heat from his breath brushed her ear.
“You scared the shit out of me.” She released the grip on her pistol, and he wove his fingers between hers and held her hand as she brought it back up to the keypad.
“I’m sorry, Mom, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” Mak said in her other ear. “But the situation is too complicated to explain on the phone. How soon do you think you’ll be here?”
Micah lifted the phone from her hand and dropped it into his side. “Go change and pack a bag. I’ll be right here waiting for you.”
When she reached for the phone, he lifted it away and pointed down the hall. “The clock is ticking and Mak needs you. I’ll deal with him.”
Dazed, she wandered down the hall.
“Mak, this is Captain Micah Reid. Your mother is packing a bag and we’ll be there in just over three hours,” she heard Micah say just before she turned into her bedroom.
Throwing off clothes, she headed toward the closet to grab a suitcase. Not knowing what she needed, she threw in everything from dress slacks and nice blouses to jeans and turtlenecks, running shoes to high heels. From under the bathroom sink, she grabbed her makeup bag and stuffed anything in that she might possibly ever need.
“Berit,” Micah called from the door.
She pulled her suitcase out of the walk-in closet and headed to her dresser for her undergarments.
“Are you almo—” He stopped mid-word.
“Yes. I just have a few more things to throw in.” She didn’t even bother to look at him as she started opening drawers.
“You’re…stunning.” He growled.
“No, I’m not.” She grabbed two of her favorite soft nightshirts and tossed them into the open suitcase on the floor. She didn’t do more than glance at the silky negligées. She was headed to her son’s house, not a weekend away with a man.
“You need to get your eyes examined. I’m—” She glanced down at her body.
She was nearly naked in only a bra and panties.
And damn it all, they didn’t even match.
Worse, there was nothing sexy about them at all. Just a tiny edge of lace adorned the top of the cups on her white bra and around the waist on her navy-blue cotton panties.
Not the way she ever wanted a man to see her but the fact that he was Micah made it all the worse. She’d considered…okay, she’d hoped…she and Micah would someday make it to a bedroom and get naked, but this was so far from the way she’d expected. Berit wanted to turn back the clock and emerge from the closet fully clothed in her most feminine blouse tucked into the black slacks that showed off her trim waist.
But that was not the case. You never get a second chance at a first impression.
“You’re beautiful.” Micah hesitantly took a step into the room.
“Let me…” She watched him prowl closer. “Put on…” The feral look in his eyes made her swallow hard. “Some clothes.”
“You don’t have to as far as I’m concerned.” Micah stood a foot from her, breathing fast and shallow. His scorching eyes scanned every inch of her exposed body.
He slowly lifted his hand, wavering near her breasts, before he sucked in a breath and placed his palm on her cheek. “I want you, like this…and more.” He slid his hands to the back of her head and kissed her, hard and desperately. Their teeth clicked when she opened her mouth, inviting him in. He tasted spicy as his tongue tangled with hers.
Berit grabbed his shoulders and squeezed, wanting more. Dropping her hands, she wrapped her arms around his broad back, over his sweater but under his heavy coat. She closed the distance between them. Pressed against his hard body, she couldn’t miss his erection.
Her hands automatically went to the hem of his sweater, diving underneath, seeking bare skin. Instead, she found a T-shirt and started yanking it out of his black jeans.
He softened the kiss and grabbed her hands, bringing them up between them. “I want nothing more than for us to strip each other bare and crawl into that bed of yours.” Still holding her hands, he took a step back. “But we can’t. I need to get you to Mak’s house.”
Reality slammed into her. “What did he say? Is he hurt? Did he reinjure something?” She was grasping and knew it.
“All he said was that it was personal and complicated. I didn’t want to push him.” He brought her hands to his lips and pressed a kiss. “We’ll find out everything when we get there and deal with it. You need to finish packing.” He slowly shook his head. “And I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you need to get dressed.”
“Okay.” She glanced down at her disheveled suitcase.
Dropping her hands, he stepped back. “I’ll wait for you in the foyer.”
On autopilot, Berit finished throwing things into her bag and zipped it closed. She threw on a mock turtleneck and a pair of jeans. As she reached for socks, she realized she’d forgotten them and grabbed several pairs, stuffing them into an outside pocket.
She wasn’t sure if her mind was fuzzy because of Mak’s cryptic message, or Micah’s kiss.
Rolling her bag behind her, her only thought was that she was headed to Virginia Beach…in Micah’s Mustang. As he put her bag next to his in the trunk, her mind warned her that she was in for the ride of her life.