“If people could just stop being egomaniacal assholes, that would be great,” drawled CJ Lawry, echoing Zak Ramsey’s private thought as their team leader, Scarlett Rhodes, went over their next assignment in the conference room at Red Wolf Elite headquarters.
The pounding in Zak’s skull made grinning in solidarity an effort but he had to point out the obvious. “Without assholes who want to rule the world, we’d be out of a job.”
“Solid point,” CJ agreed with a grumble, kicking out his feet to use the chair next to him as an ottoman. “Okay, so what’s the deal this time around?”
“This time it’s pretty serious,” Scarlett said, her expression puckering into a sour frown. “I’m talking end-of-days kind of shit.”
“You’ve got my attention,” Zak said, perking up, curious because Scarlett wasn’t prone to dramatics. “What’s going on?”
“Look, we all know the next war isn’t going to be some politician pushing a button and sending a missile this way. We’ve got plenty of fail-safes against that kind of threat. No, the next threat to America is far more insidious—it’s going to creep up on us while we’re too busy on social media perfecting the ultimate selfie, too self-absorbed to notice that we’re in deep shit. By the time we realize there’s a problem we’re all going to go out puking and crapping our brains out as our insides melt like rancid butter left in the hot sun.”
“Well, ain’t that a lovely picture,” CJ said with a grim shudder. “If things don’t work out for you with Red Wolf, you ought to write Christmas jingles, TL. Very uplifting.”
“I’m serious, jackass. The threat is real and it’s here.”
Zak waited for Scarlett to continue, knowing that whatever was going down had to be big, because nothing scared their team leader—and she looked freaked out.
“All right, shut your trap, CJ. This sounds worth listening to,” Zak said, looking to Scarlett, whose expression was hard as nails but colored with worry.
“At 0300 hours there was a breach in a top-level, heavily classified lab in Vermont, where the sample of a highly dangerous biological agent was stolen. I’m not going to sugarcoat anything when I say this is Armageddon-level shit and it landing into the wrong hands spells trouble for everyone.”
“Of course it does,” CJ quipped with a dark glower. “For crying out loud, what I want to know is why scientists have to mess around with that scary shit anyway? I mean, it always lands in the wrong hands, every single time. No one plays nice or fair, so the best thing for everyone would be if they’d just stop messing with that scary shit, because no one deserves to die like that.”
“Yeah, tell me about it,” Zak agreed. “So what are we talking? Bubonic plague? Swine flu? Or some Outbreak Monkey-don’t-have-a-name-hell-fire-level-up kind of disaster?”
“My guess is the monkey one,” CJ retorted.
Scarlett nodded. “Apparently, the researchers were trying to reverse engineer a cure but the sample was stolen before they could perfect the formula. We have to find that sample and protect the lead scientist.”
“A twofer.” CJ chuckled, rubbing his hands together with pretend glee. “My favorite.”
“What about the FBI?” Zak asked. “Why weren’t they called in?”
“Because this sample recovery wasn’t sanctioned in any way. It was stolen from a country without official authorization, so technically, it shouldn’t even be here in the States. We’re being hired to handle this quietly and beneath the radar.”
“So if we screw up, Uncle Sam has his friggin’ hands clean,” CJ said, to which Scarlett nodded. They all knew why they were being tasked with this project but hey, the risks came with the job, and they had all signed on the dotted line understanding that simple fact.
“Here’s how this is going to shake out. CJ and I will run point on the investigation while you, Zak, will be in charge of protecting the asset.”
Babysitting? Not his favorite detail but CJ was too hot-tempered to deal with people on a regular basis. He was much better out in the field doing reconnaissance or blowing shit up. For that reason, Zak didn’t begrudge their TL her choice but he wasn’t looking forward to babysitting some nerd in a lab when the fate of the world rested on his team.
“All right, tell me about this scientist I’m supposed to be babysitting.”
Scarlett slid the file across the desk and Zak caught it with his fingertips before flipping it open. Straight, shoulder-length Nordic-blond hair and blue eyes, glasses that obscured her face, and a list of academic achievements a mile long—should be easy enough to keep her safe. “Are you sure I shouldn’t come with you and CJ? We are a man down with Xander being a big shot with the FBI now. You might need the backup. We can always send a new recruit to babysit the scientist.”
“We can’t risk someone getting their hands on Dr. Willows. She’s the only one who can reverse engineer a cure, which puts her in a dangerous position. I need you to take point on this, Zak.”
Zak nodded, accepting Scarlett’s reasoning. Now wasn’t the time to sulk and pout about being handed the less-than-exciting assignment.
Scarlett continued, “You’re to be with her 24/7. If she goes to work, you’re right behind her. If she goes home, you’re stationed outside her bedroom door. It’s imperative that her safety is assured. You worry about the doc and we’ll worry about the recovery. Got it?”
“Loud and clear.”
Scarlett nodded, satisfied. “Your flight leaves in two hours for Vermont. Details are in the packet.”
Zak scooped up the file with no time to waste. He needed to pack and then hit the airport.
Scarlett stopped him before he left the conference room. “You know I’m not an alarmist but the intel on this biological is scary as shit. If this doc can reverse engineer a cure...that means she’s a target. You’re going to need to keep your head on a swivel.”
“Always do.”
“I know. That’s why I need you on this job. Don’t let us down.”
“Never will.”
Zak left the building, made quick work of packing and then hit the airport.
The flight wasn’t long, only about an hour and a half, but it gave him the chance to really study the doc.
Caitlin Willows, thirty-three, originally from Wisconsin, had moved to Vermont to work for Tessara Pharmaceuticals five years ago. She’d worked up to lead research scientist relatively quickly, which meant she was either a workaholic or crazy smart.
Probably both.
Thankfully, workaholics tended to keep to themselves, so accommodating a bunch of extraneous people within her circle wouldn’t likely be necessary.
The intel in his hands would be considered intrusive—or borderline illegal—by most standards but he’d long since stopped caring or questioning how the intel crossed his desk. All that mattered was the job. He’d let the politicians sort out the details.
And if Red Wolf failed this mission...there’d be no details to sort.
Everyone would just end.
Caitlin Willows couldn’t believe what her superior was saying to her—honestly, it all seemed something out of a movie. She kept waiting for the nightmare to end, to open her eyes and discover it’d all been a terrible dream.
One minute her orderly life was filled with comforting routine, and the next, nothing made sense—the equivalent of Bill Murray’s iconic speech in Ghostbusters, “Dogs and cats living together—mass hysteria!” Because the scariest thing imaginable had just happened and now her life was in danger.
“Red Wolf Elite will be sending a highly trained soldier to watch over your safety while you recreate the sample. He should be like a shadow, always there but never in your way. You don’t have to worry about anything but your work.”
Still unable to wrap her head around the last twenty-four hours, Caitlin rubbed at her fingers, a nervous habit she’d had since she was young. “I don’t understand. How did someone break into the lab with all of our security protocols? It practically takes Harry Potter magic to get through all the fail-safes.”
Her immediate superior, Stan Obberon, wasn’t amused by her comment, but then, Stan was allergic to humor most days.
“Now is not the time to make jokes,” he said, frowning with what appeared to be distaste. “If you can’t understand the gravity of the situation I don’t know how you can possibly fulfill the task you’ve been given.”
Caitlin nodded, immediately chastised. No one would ever think to call her the office jokester—she was quite the opposite, actually—so the fact that Stan was calling her mild comment inappropriate was unsettling.
But then, everyone was on edge, too. Tessara was a huge pharmaceutical company with multiple locations, but the largest facility was in California. The Vermont location was smaller in scale but the work they did was just as important.
The fact that Caitlin had been tapped to head up the ultrasecret project had been both exhilarating and intimidating.
To reverse engineer a cure for a new biological agent capable of decimating an entire population within weeks...well, it was simply mind-boggling, and of course a matter of national security. But she’d only gotten halfway through the formula before the sample had been stolen, and now she could practically hear the clock ticking on humanity.
Was it her fault somehow? How else had someone gained access to her lab? Her head hurt from the questions that hammered at her and her stomach felt permanently clenched from anxiety.
And now she was being assigned a supersoldier for protection? Never in her life had she ever been so out of her element. She lived a quiet life of research and study—she was not adventure prone.
She didn’t even like to go hiking. Her idea of living on the edge involved enjoying a glass of milk with her cookies when she was mildly lactose intolerant and knew she’d suffer a bellyache later.
Caitlin smothered a shiver at the potential ramifications of everything that’d happened. “So when is this soldier supposed to be showing up?” she asked, drawing a deep breath. The world had been tipped on its head and she couldn’t seem to get her bearing.
When she got to the lab this morning, there’d been mass chaos and it’d taken a minute to fully process what she’d been seeing—her lab destroyed and her research stolen.
It was enough to make a scientist’s heart stop.
On the surface, having a highly trained soldier to protect her was a good thing, but Caitlin wasn’t much of a people person and the knowledge that she’d have someone in her bubble 24/7 was upsetting to say the least.
“He should be here any minute,” Stan answered, checking his watch with a short, agitated motion. “He’s supposed to be the best.”
She wasn’t worried about his qualifications—no doubt this soldier was a proficient killing machine—but she hated the idea of having him as her shadow. Caitlin enjoyed working alone and was accustomed to solitude. Having someone in her bubble for longer than a socially acceptable conversation length promised to be excruciating.
And the prospect filled her with anxiety.
As if on cue, the door to Stan’s office opened and the biggest man she’d ever seen came striding into the room, sucking up all the oxygen and filling the space with all of his male energy.
Oh, good gravy. This wouldn’t work. The protests were immediate and shrill in her mind, but her mouth wasn’t quite working.
He had to be at least six feet four inches, 275 pounds of pure muscle capable of pounding a person into a hole with one hand.
“Dr. Willows,” he said, extending a hand with polite courtesy, which she accepted on autopilot. She stared in shock as his hand dwarfed hers. He released her hand and moved on to Dr. Obberon with the same attention, but Caitlin could still feel the warmth of his calloused hand against her palm. Thrusting her hands in her lab coat, she tried not to fidget too much but her entire body felt as if she were vibrating with nervous energy.
“My name is Zak Ramsey, Red Wolf Elite. You can rest assured I will do everything in my power to keep you safe while my team works to bring in whoever breached the lab.”
His assurances sent an odd bubble bouncing down her vertebrae. Why did he have to be so tall? Standing next to him made her feel like a child. No doubt he could tuck her under his arm and cart her off like a Viking with his spoils if he chose to.
And that name? Zak? Sounded like a rock star’s name. Her mind was rambling, but thankfully, her mouth hadn’t started flapping yet—one saving grace, she supposed.
“I’m not used to having a bodyguard,” she blurted, her hold slipping. “I don’t know the etiquette. Am I supposed to bring you hot tea or something? Coffee? Because I don’t drink coffee and I don’t fetch coffee, either, just so we’re clear.”
“I can get my own coffee.”
“Caitlin, honestly,” Stan said, his mouth pinching at her odd question. “Just do what you normally do and he’ll take care of the rest.”
“What I normally do, I do by myself,” Caitlin couldn’t help pointing out. “I’m just saying... I don’t know how to act around a bodyguard.”
“I’ll do my best to fade into the background.”
She wanted to bark a short laugh. Him? Fade? Impossible. He was practically a beacon of male energy pulsing for every single—and unhappily attached—female in the building. She may not be interested but there would be plenty of women who found the idea of a virile soldier traipsing through the halls too tempting to resist.
And given their present situation, a disruption of that magnitude...well, it just seemed like a bad idea.
She drew herself up with a faint scowl, saying, “Well, I happen to think this is overkill but it’s not my dime, so as long as you stay out of my way, we’ll get along just fine.”
“Ma’am, your safety is tied to the safety of the world. I can promise you nothing will stand in my way of doing my job and keeping you safe.”
Their gazes met—they were both determined to do things their way—but the question was...whose way was going to win?
Caitlin pulled her gaze first, her fingers curling inside the privacy of her lab coat. To Stan, she said, “I’ll be in the lab, cleaning up the mess. We have a lot of ground to make up and we have no idea of knowing how unstable the sample is wherever it’s being held.”
“I’ll need to vet each of your team from this point forward,” Zak said, his tone firm. “There’s a chance this was an inside job.”
“Not possible. I handpicked my team,” Caitlin said, affronted by the suggestion. “I’d know if I had a traitor on my team.”
“Not likely, but it’s not your fault. You’re not trained to search out evidence of deception.”
“I can appreciate that, but I know my team. Your efforts are better spent looking on the outside.”
Stan interjected with a gruff approval to Zak, “You do what you feel is necessary.” To Caitlin, he said, “And I trust you’ll do whatever is necessary to ensure he has what he needs to accomplish his goal in keeping this lab secure.”
“Of course,” she replied stiffly, hating being told what to do in her own lab. “But I feel it prudent to point out that Mr. Ramsey’s energy can be spent pursuing more fruitful endeavors than areas that I already know are dead ends.”
She expected pushback but Zak simply said, “We’ll see,” and left it at that, which gave her little to argue further. Stan nodded, accepting the end of that particular discussion, even though Caitlin wanted to squash the theory that anyone on her team had been responsible.
Stan turned to Zak. “I’ll leave you to your work,” he said, before exiting the conference room.
She was alone with Zak now. Within seconds the silence between them blossomed to excruciating levels and Caitlin was almost relieved when Zak gestured for her to lead the way to the lab with an ultrapolite “After you.”
Caitlin spun on her heel and tried to pretend she didn’t have a sanctioned stalker. But her body seemed hyperaware—an ordinary activity such as walking was suddenly outside of her wheelhouse and she stumbled on imaginary obstacles.
“Are you all right?” Zak asked, reaching out to steady her but she shook off his help with embarrassment.
“I’m fine,” she insisted, her cheeks heating. “I was distracted.” You distract me.
This was her new reality, she realized. A tall, handsome, movie-star-looking bodyguard trailing her every move, breathing down her neck, probably thinking to himself that he’d definitely pulled the short straw for this gig.
Lord help me.
High school hadn’t felt this awkward and high school had been hell.