37

Washington, DC
4:21 PM Wednesday, January 21

“He’s dead?”

Brynn’s question jerked Jack’s attention from his computer to where she was sitting on the couch, watching the news reports coming out of Egypt.

Her forehead wrinkled, skepticism playing in her eyes. “From a random car explosion?”

“Faulty wiring?” Jack shrugged. “Heard they’re investigating the NLJ.”

“Mm-hmm.” She rolled her eyes at him and then bit her lip. “When I told you what Chad said about dahry, it was only a hunch.”

“One that paid off, Ms. Taylor.” Director Walsh stepped out of his office. “President Talaat suspected someone within his circle of sharing classified information. The term dahry literally means back. As in having someone’s back or support. President Talaat and Field Marshal Ahmed Abdel Kader served together in the military. Talaat never suspected Kader to be the one trying to oust him, but the GID found evidence he was meeting regularly with members of the NLJ and receiving financial support from them.”

Jack stared at the news report showing the burnt remains of Field Marshal Kader’s vehicle. “He was planning another coup.”

“A choice that didn’t turn out well for Mr. Kader or those working with him. President Talaat has expressed his deepest gratitude to you, Ms. Taylor, for your keen intuition, which gave him and the GID time to respond to the field marshal’s treason.”

“Sir, if Kekoa hadn’t pulled that word off of Riad’s laptop, I never would’ve known. The credit belongs to him.” Her gaze lowered to the floor. “Though I do feel responsible for Riad’s death.”

“Don’t.” Walsh’s voice was kind but direct, and she looked up. “Riad knew what the risks were when he joined the Mukhabarat. He did his job honorably and with courage. President Talaat is posthumously presenting Riad with Egypt’s highest award, the Order of the Nile, for his service to President Talaat and his country.”

Jack could see Riad’s death was going to linger with Brynn for a while. The death of Chad Bowman too, even though it was a necessary casualty of the war on terrorism. After a military police officer took the shot from his position in the shut-down air vent, an Explosives Ordnance Disposal Team came in and cleared the building, disarming seven explosive devices. He hoped Brynn knew how valuable her role was in the operation as well.

“And the virus?” Brynn scratched at the edge of the lime-green fiberglass cast that went from her left shoulder to her wrist. “Did Kekoa’s testudo work?”

Walsh chuckled and shook his head. “Kekoa is never going to let us live that down. His testudo wasn’t foolproof, but it did block quite a lot. Since we were ready for the attack, Kekoa and cryptologists and cryptanalysts were able to go on the offensive. For every viral attack, they countered with a tracer that’s led to multiple cells here in the States and overseas.”

“Like Texas and Guam.” Jack folded his arms over his chest. “And Fort Gordon.”

“We do have a bit of a happy ending there.” Walsh unclipped his cell phone from his belt and tapped the screen. “They arrested Rodney Lee, the man who tried to enter the post illegally, and discovered he and his wife were part of a human trafficking ring. They found a Nigerian girl there, Chinara Okoye, and evidence there were others smuggled into the country for forced labor. She’s with a foster family right now until Child Protective Services and ICE work something out.”

Brynn shook her head. “Poor girl.”

“Hey.” Jack reached for Brynn’s hand. “At least she has a chance now. Hope.”

“Ms. Taylor, your humility and compassion are admirable traits. Ones I look for in new team members.” Walsh pushed up his glasses. “Have you made a decision?”

Jack’s heart thumped in his chest. Director Walsh had spoken with him this morning about offering Brynn a position on the team. The last thing he wanted to do was put pressure on her, and he hated to admit that part of his heart still hadn’t recovered from the last time she had to choose. But looking down at their intertwined fingers, Jack trusted God had brought her back into his life at the right time, and no matter what decision she made, they would figure it out. Together.

“I appreciate the offer, sir. As you know, I spoke with President Allen this morning and explained the details of the Diplomatic Intra-Agency Cooperation program. She’s scheduling a meeting with CIA Director Thompson, Director Peterson, and National Security Advisor Doug Martin to go over the idea of making the DI-AC program permanent. President Talaat has even requested hosting the DI-AC program in Egypt next year.”

“Sounds promising.” Director Walsh raised his eyebrows. “So you’ll be staying in the DC area?”

Brynn’s gaze fastened on Jack’s. “I think so.”

“Good.” Walsh clapped his hands together once. “I look forward to working with you in the future, Ms. Taylor.” He twisted his wrist and checked the time. “You two should probably leave now if you hope to find any food left.”

Jack laughed. “I’m not sure it’s appropriate for the host to eat all the food before his guests.”

“Does Kekoa know that?” Walsh grinned. “You two have fun and let me know how Kekoa likes his housewarming gift.”

Brynn watched pedestrians taking advantage of the clear blue skies and the late-afternoon sun shining down on the snow, making it sparkle like a million tiny diamonds. People walking dogs, jogging, children enjoying the snow. All of them unaware of how close the US had come to another terrorist attack.

Jack reached over, his hand finding a spot on her shoulder knotted with stress. His fingers worked on the muscles. “You okay?”

She sighed. “Yeah. The last week has felt like a blur, almost like it wasn’t real.”

“But it was.”

“Yeah, it’s just . . . well, Field Marshal Kader and Chad Bowman are completely different. I’ve spent nearly a decade studying homegrown terrorism, yet the unpredictability is scary. What makes a person wake up in the morning and decide they’re going to subscribe to a doctrine of hate? No matter what Chad Bowman went through in his life, it’s hard to understand why he gave in.”

“He made a choice, B. Chad Bowman decided to go after you because he’d allowed hate to fill him.” Jack’s knuckles brushed against the skin along her neck, the tickle raising goose bumps. “Look at everything you’ve gone through. If anyone has a reason to let hate rule their heart, it’s you. But you made a choice to do good—to use your life to love others so much you’re willing to lay down your life for them. You’re a lot like your dad.”

Emotion curled into a tight ball in her throat.

“He ran into the chaos to protect others.” Jack’s thumb caught a tear on her cheek. “Much to my displeasure, you do the same thing. You’re brave and kind and fiercely independent, and I wouldn’t change a single thing about you.”

Brynn swiped at another tear. “You forgot to mention my stellar inflatable-sword skills.”

“Oh, how could I forget, princess.”

Jack’s voice was husky as he brought her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. Brynn longed to feel his arms around her and to kiss him. When will I get to feel his lips on mine? The last twenty-four hours had consisted of reports, debriefings, sleep. Brynn was ready for some alone time with Jack, but Kekoa insisted they celebrate a successful mission at his new place, and well, the giant Hawaiian teddy bear of a man was hard to say no to.

“Wow, maybe I should reconsider Walsh’s offer.” Brynn stared up at the glass-and-steel luxury apartment building in the middle of Arlington. She looked at Jack suspiciously. “You did this on purpose.”

Jack held the door open for her, looking confused. “What?”

“You knew I’d try to recruit Kekoa, so you upped your game by giving him a ginormous raise for this apartment.”

“You caught me,” Jack joked, pressing the elevator button for the eleventh floor.

Brynn stepped into the elevator. “Seriously?”

“Lyla found him the apartment. She has—”

“Connections, I know,” Brynn finished for him. “Maybe she’ll hook me up with one of those amazing showerheads you have in your office.”

When the elevator doors opened, Brynn and Jack stepped out and started down the hall, where the thumping beat of drums and tinny ukulele music echoed.

“B, before we go in there, we should probably talk about us.” He paused, and she read the hesitancy in his eyes. He reached for her hand, their fingers intertwining. His eyes moved in the direction of the music. “They’re kind of nosy.”

Brynn couldn’t help smiling. “What do you want to tell them?”

“You tell me.” Jack narrowed his eyes on her playfully as he pulled her closer. Being careful of her cast, he moved his hands to her waist, sending a thrill of attraction zipping through her. “The choice is yours, princess.”

“I don’t know, Hudson.” She slipped her hand around his neck, her fingers combing through his hair. Tipping her chin up so her lips barely brushed his chin, she smiled. “I’ve been known to make bad decisions.”

“Okay, if this is going to be a thing—”

“Kekoa.” Brynn closed her eyes with a groan that turned into a laugh. She looked back at the Hawaiian standing there holding a spatula in his hand and wearing the brightest aloha shirt she’d ever seen.

Jack ran a hand down his face. “Brother, this”—he gestured between them—“is never going to be a thing if you keep interrupting. And second, that is the loudest aloha shirt I have ever seen.” Jack leaned forward, squinting. “Are those fish?”

Kekoa looked down at his shirt. “They’re not fish. They’re spam musubis.”

“Spam what?” Jack asked.

“Very funny, brah.” Kekoa started to wave them into his apartment when the door next to his opened. “Oh.” He straightened. “Excuse me.”

His neighbor, a woman with long brown hair and almond-shaped eyes, tried to step around Kekoa, but for every step she took, Kekoa awkwardly stepped in the same direction, essentially blocking her from getting around him.

“Sorry.” He offered a bashful smile. “I’m Kekoa Young, your new neighbor, and I’m having a little wintertime luau. We got plenty of food if you want to come in.”

The woman tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, dark chocolate eyes observing Jack and Brynn before looking back up at Kekoa. “Thanks, but I have plans tonight.”

“Oh, okay.” Kekoa’s chin tipped downward for a second before his cheeks pulled back into that toothy smile. “Next time, yeah?”

“Uh, sure. Maybe.” The woman slid around Kekoa and gave Jack and Brynn a tight smile.

“Um, neighbor,” Kekoa called over their heads, and Brynn’s eyes grew wide. “I didn’t get your name.”

The woman turned and offered the faintest smile. “Elinor.”

“Elinor. Elinor.” Kekoa repeated the name until Jack pushed him back inside his apartment.

“Ooh, I think Kekoa has a crush on his neighbor,” Brynn whispered to Jack. “Extra points for Lyla.”

Jack shook his head. “I hope not.”

“I can’t believe you got to eat breakfast with the president.” Lyla carried two cups with orange liquid in them. She handed one to Brynn. “It’s something called POG juice . . . nonalcoholic.”

“Thank you.” She took the glass. “When did you get back?”

“I have no idea.” Lyla shook her head. “Don’t even know what day it is.”

“We got in this morning,” Garcia said before fixing his attention on Kekoa. “Now can we eat?”

“Are you ready for some ono grindz?”

“If it’s food and it’s good, then yes,” Jack answered Kekoa.

Brynn took in Kekoa’s new place. Light oak floors contrasted with the sleek mahogany wood paneling that matched the modern cabinets. A stone fireplace was topped with a giant television facing a sectional. Mounted above it was a two-toned wood surfboard that Brynn would’ve complimented Lyla on if she wasn’t staring at the Independence Day movie posters taped to the wall around it.

“Nice touch, huh?” Lyla smirked. “Couldn’t resist.”

“It’s perfect.” Brynn was about to put her purse down on the couch but jumped back when she saw something furry in the corner staring at her. “What is that?”

“That’s Director Walsh’s attempt at humor.” Garcia picked up the stuffed rat. “Bought Kekoa this couch but wanted to make him feel at home.”

“Not funny,” Kekoa yelled over at them before his whole body shuddered. “Brah, I still have nightmares of tiny little feet running across the floor.”

“I assure you, there are no rats in this place,” Lyla said, lifting her glass. “Only the best for you, brahhhh.”

Everyone laughed before Kekoa called them to eat. The kalbi ribs and shoyu chicken were ono. So delicious and Brynn ate way too much. When they were done eating, she slipped out onto the balcony and was delighted to see Lyla had thought of everything. A cushioned outdoor sectional was placed around an electric firepit that was already on.

Brynn sank into the cushions and grabbed a heavy knit blanket. Staring up at the stars, she could feel her body relax. Jack’s words hadn’t left her. Terrorists had irrevocably changed her life, and Brynn had used her obsession to stop them as a means to bring control back to her life. Stability. But the peace that she felt inside the Cyber Command Room hadn’t left her, nor had her father’s words about being anchored in the One who brings peace in the midst of the storm, and she was grateful. Grateful she could surrender control and relax in the hope only God could offer.

The sound of the sliding doors pulled her attention to Jack. “Can I join you?”

“Of course.” She pulled the blanket to the side so he could snuggle in next to her before she rested her head in the crook of his shoulder. “Is Kekoa watching?”

“I think he’s explaining the difference between Texas barbecue and Hawaiian barbecue to Garcia. It could be a while.”

“Good.” Brynn twisted around and looked into Jack’s eyes. “We should take advantage of the distraction.”

A slow smile spread over Jack’s lips. Shifting just enough to bring Brynn close, he traced the edge of her jaw with his lips, sending a thousand delicious chills of delight marching over her skin. She ran her fingers over his beard, letting them slide through his hair until they found their place at the back of his neck.

His shoulder muscles bunched beneath her touch as he leaned in, the warmth of his breath hovering over her lips until finally—finally—they found hers. His kiss started tender and exploring, and Brynn could feel herself melting into it. Passion taking over as they made up for eight years.

When he finally pulled back, the smile on his lips, the desire in his eyes made her blush. “Let’s not wait so long before we do that again.”

Brynn matched his smile. “Kiss me, Hudson.”

“As you wish.”