Chapter Eleven

The drive was longer than Audrey expected. That, or she was overtired. Whichever the reason, she dozed off in Cam’s truck, escaping the events of the last twenty-four hours in untroubled sleep.

She woke up when her head banged against the passenger window. Rubbing it, she looked at Cam. He shot her an apologetic look before returning his attention to the road. “Sorry about that. We’re almost there.”

Groggy from sleep, she looked out the windshield. A fine, spring drizzle was coming down, turning the ribbon of partially paved road into mud. Redwood trees towered on either side of them. She couldn’t see the sky through all their foliage.

All the green triggered memories of how her flower shop had looked before they’d left, threatening to spill the tears she’d fought to withhold. Knowing she could rebuild was small recompense because it represented so much more than simply her livelihood. Starting her business had come at a time when she had lacked direction and focus. She’d lost confidence in herself as a soldier when that informant blew up the bus full of innocents. Making a new life for herself without the Army proved she could pick herself up and start over. And now she had to again, thanks to Brett. It hurt even more this time.

The truck bounced again, and Audrey grabbed the suicide handle. “Do you know where you’re going?” Her words echoed every woman from the passenger seat.

Sitting back, he flashed another of those devastating smiles, the kind that crinkled the corners of his eyes and helped her forget her woes. His bruises had yellowed, bringing the pirate comparison to mind again. Except she’d already gotten to know him and could see the exhaustion beneath his bravado. Neither of them had gotten much sleep the night before, and they’d left after the fire. Cam had given her barely enough time to pack her duffel and pick up a burner phone before heading out of Abbottsville and into the redwoods. And now he’d driven while she catnapped. He had to be tapped out.

“It’s a challenge, I’m not going to lie. Zack’s directions were thorough, but it’s getting kind of dark now.”

She sighed and looked out her window again. “I thought this was all national forest. How could he live here?” They were winding past trees and more trees, going deeper into the woods. The gloom of nightfall cloaked them in silence, except for the creaks of the truck as it bounced along. Every so often they’d pass a leaning mailbox, signaling that someone lived nearby, but she could see no other evidence of humanity. Her skin tingled.

“With Zack it’s best not to get too nosy. He’s been a spook for a long time and racked up a lot of knowledge and friends in high places. He’s not in the business anymore, but I’m sure he can call in favors. We’re right on the edge of the Avenue of the Giants. He bought this place after his divorce. He was pretty ripped up after Angie left, I guess, and needed a quiet place.”

Audrey digested this, until they hit a dip in the road that sent both their heads into the roof of the truck.

“Damn it!” they exclaimed at the same time. They shared a brief smile. Cam cranked the steering wheel to the right, and a rustic cabin came into view. Pine needles littered the shake roof. The place looked right out of the movie Evil Dead. Audrey pulled her windbreaker tighter around her.

An older Jeep was drawn up close to the cabin, and a man in hunting camouflage leaned against it, smoking a cigarette. Which was more reassuring than a hunting rifle cradled in his arms. She didn’t see any weapons. He glanced up, taking a drag and squinting through the exhale as Cam pulled in beside him.

Cam jumped out and immediately strode to the man. Audrey slid out more slowly, her gaze sweeping her surroundings, what little she could see in the dusk shadows. The soaring trees and continued drizzle didn’t help with visibility.

“Why the hell haven’t you paved this donkey track yet, old man? My balls are in my throat, thanks to you.” Cam threw an arm around the shorter, thinner guy before doing some secret handshake that looked more like grabbing a doorknob.

Audrey edged around the hood of the truck and cleared her throat. Both men retreated from the “bro” moment, Cam shooting her an apologetic look before doing the introductions.

“Sorry, Audrey. This asshole always brings the worst out in me. This is Zack Addison. Zack, this is Audrey Jenkins.”

She finally got a close-up look at her host. Just under six feet, Zack Addison was wiry beneath all the unnecessary layers of clothes, with dark hair long enough to put in a ponytail, which he had. Smoker lines creased either side of his mouth, aging him more than the mid-thirties that she guessed him at. His eyes looked brown, but she couldn’t be sure in the half-light.

He switched the stub of his cigarette to his left hand and held out his right to shake. She looked him in the eyes while she took his hand. They were clear and direct. His skin was rough against hers, cool where Cam’s was always warm. And he smelled like smoke. She stepped back, bumping shoulders with Cam.

“Mi casa es su casa,” Zack said, waving his hand toward the cabin. Shooting another assessing look his way, Audrey hefted her duffel from the truck bed and preceded the two men up the wood porch steps that needed a good sweep.

The door was ajar. She pushed through and entered a man cave. Her first impression was: books. Books everywhere. Bookshelves obscured all four wood-paneled walls, floor to ceiling. A sliding library ladder stood at the ready in the far corner of the room. Several books sat open on the farm-style table, one with a pair of reading glasses resting on it, like the reader had just stepped away for a moment. Which he had.

Worn, brown leather furniture faced the rocky fireplace, topped by a chunky mantel and a very sleek flat-screen TV, currently dark. A couple of rough-hewn end tables with mismatched lamps and empty tuna cans serving as ash trays rounded out the not-so-great, great room.

What drew Audrey’s attention next was the office-size desk in another corner of the room. Double monitors winked at her, each rivaling the size of the wall-mounted TV. One screen had some internet site on it, while the other showed Cam and Zack walking up the steps, heads together in deep conversation.

She wondered if Zack was one of those crazy survivalists waiting for the end of the world, with a food cellar stocked with water, batteries, and ammo. More vets than people realized preferred living off the grid, armed and ready for Armageddon. By the looks of this place, it seemed their host was well on his way to being one of them.

Audrey faced the men as they entered the cabin. Addison snicked the deadbolt into lock position, she noticed. Was that to keep the bad out? Or them in? The thought was unsettling.

Cam, at least, seemed impressed with this return-to-Archie-Bunker abode, where everything was set up for the man of the house. The only thing different was no woman shared the space.

“Like I said, make yourselves at home for however long you’re kicking back here. Which is…?” His voice trailed off as he looked from her to Cam for an answer. She shrugged. It wasn’t her idea to hide to begin with. Let Cam do the explaining.

“Not sure. It got a little hairy downtown, so we’re going to lay low here and figure things out.” Cam let out a whistle as he studied his friend’s computer station. “This is one sweet set up. We should be able to figure out what’s happening on Mars if we want.”

“Knock yourselves out. I’m untraceable out here. Unless you brought your idiot phones, you should be safe.”

“He got me a burner,” Audrey supplied. “How do you get internet out here?”

Cam slashed his hand across his throat when Audrey glanced at him, reminding her of his earlier suggestion. She addressed their host, who didn’t seem inclined to answer anyway. “Never mind. I forgot. Don’t ask, don’t tell.”

Both men laughed, and Zack pushed off from the computer desk, heading toward a shadowed hall. “I’ll show you the racks and the shitter and then shove off.”

“Actually…we might need some assistance.”

Addison dropped his head back and spoke to the ceiling. “I knew it wasn’t going to be this easy. Damn.”

…

Zack even made their dinner. His buddy came off as slightly paranoid to most people, but Cam had always found him to be that one friend you could count on, no matter what. Their paths didn’t cross much anymore, but Cam kept Zack in the back of his mind, just in case. Today was one of those times. Once one of the best covert operatives in the Army, Zack had been taken to the cleaners by his ex-wife, whose defection seriously undermined his self-confidence. Now he wrote spy thrillers and made bank on them, though he’d never regained the assurance he once had.

Cam and Audrey cleaned up after the homemade chili dinner, while Zack accessed the Dark Web. Now all three of them circled Zack’s King Tut throne of a desk while a fire cheerily burned in the grate. Since there were other cabins in the area, Cam supposed hiding in plain sight was the best strategy and didn’t mention the fire potentially signaling their whereabouts.

Zack stretched his arms and cracked his knuckles like a virtuoso before a performance. “All right, boys and girls, what are you interested in finding out today?”

“Terrorist chatter,” Cam blurted at the same time Audrey said, “The GUWP.”

Zack eyed Audrey. Seconds passed. Audrey gazed back without blinking. The longer Zack studied her, the more irritated Cam became. What was his friend doing, counting her freckles? He made a move to interrupt the stare-off, and that’s when Zack began nodding.

“I like the way you think, lady.” He flashed Cam a grin around an unlit cigarette. “Your idea is good, but I like hers better.” He started typing.

Audrey gave Cam a smug smile, which made him grin. She’d lost her business, been shot at, and was now in hiding, yet she was strutting because Zack chose her topic to research before his. What a woman.

“Make sure your face masks are secure and don’t forget: never swim alone, folks, because we’re about to dive and go deep.”

Cam watched his buddy’s fingers on the keyboard for a few moments, while his mind sifted through his emotions regarding Audrey. He hadn’t met a woman yet that could tempt him away from being a soldier for life, yet more and more, he found himself thinking about her. That hadn’t happened before and he, in typical analytical fashion, needed to know why it was now.

Was he tired of his job, looking for an excuse to do something else? He didn’t think so. He hadn’t been this into a case in a while. He wanted to get to the bottom of what Brett was working on and stop it before it grew into a monster. So why did he find himself thinking more about Audrey than terrorism plots? What was wrong with him?

Leaving his thoughts, which were only confusing him more, he found Audrey leaning over Zack’s shoulder, her chin practically resting on it, while they looked at the screen. He scowled before he could rein in the emotion. What the hell had happened while he’d been woolgathering? Those two were so cozy he’d have trouble sticking a crowbar between them.

“Okay, here’s a forum known for terrorist activity. Why don’t we just go scrolling along, see if anything jumps out at you?”

Having worked counterterrorism before, Cam had been on the Dark—or Deep—Web before, but it still was unsettling to see child porn or weapons and drugs, all on this web like most people searched for furniture or clothing on the World Wide Web. He would never be immune to Man’s depravity.

With both Zack and Audrey scanning the topics, Cam sat back and thought about what had happened so far on this case since he’d arrived in California. A group of soldiers had been ambushed and killed, Audrey’s house had been broken into, and her shop nearly burned to the ground. His hunch that Audrey had something Brett wanted was panning out. By hiring someone to search her place, it showed Brett was getting desperate. Doing so had enabled him to search her shop and, in a fit of rage, his former friend had set it on fire when he didn’t find what he was looking for. But what was it? She’d said she’d searched her place, so what were they overlooking? And how did it tie into the four dead soldiers?

He looked at the woman Brett had threatened to kill at his court martial, the one at the center of this case. Audrey’s dark hair spilled loose over her shoulders as she peered at the monitors. Her neck was long and graceful. Tiny silver hoops glinted at her delicate earlobes. He caught the faint floral fragrance he already associated with her, even though Zack’s damn cigarettes overpowered it at the moment. She was purely feminine, yet stronger emotionally and physically than many men he knew.

Audrey teased him out of his regimented habits. He wanted to get to know her better, maybe figure out why she was able to get past the walls he’d put up. But first, he needed to discover what she had or knew that Brett was desperate enough to come after.

He sat forward in his chair, looking over Zack’s other shoulder while his friend slowly scrolled the forums. “Are there any dialogues about something that needs to be retrieved?” Something they’d be willing to break into a home or burn down a business to find. “Maybe hiring someone to do the retrieving?”

Zack’s finger stilled on the mouse. Audrey leaned so that she could look at Cam. “This isn’t Craigslist, Cam.”

Both men grinned. Cam continued. “Trust me, I know that. But Brett escaped and came straight to you. After what he said at his court martial, we know he didn’t return out of undying love.” She made a face. He disliked bringing up that nasty business again, but he had to emphasize Brett’s intent. If his former friend was this desperate, it had to be important to him, which meant it was important to Cam. “He has to be looking for something. Something you have, even if you don’t know it. And it looks like he, or the people he’s working for, might be sending someone else to do the dirty work, based on the break in.”

“Are you thinking whatever they want is insurance?” Zack piped up.

Cam shrugged. “Maybe. Records of his info sales. Or jobs he completed.”

“Or upcoming jobs?” Zack’s voice was soft, his implication clear.

Audrey jumped out of her chair and strode to the fire. She stared into the flames, body rigid. Cam shared a look with his buddy. They both remained silent. She needed to come to terms that the guy she’d fallen for, slept with, laughed with, was probably up to his eyeballs in terrorism, if not in charge of the whole deal.

“I know you think I have something, but I really don’t see how that’s possible.” She spoke to the fireplace. They had to lean forward to hear her when her voice dropped to a whisper. “It’s hard to believe Brett would kill Americans. He loved the uniform, what he stood for. What we all stood for. How could all that change?”

Cam stood up, moved behind her. He placed his hands on her upper arms. She flinched, yet the slight sway of her body told him she accepted his comforting touch. He didn’t like the way his heart bounced in his chest. He was getting too invested in this partnership, and not in a professional aspect. He needed to keep his head in the game. But the softness of her skin beckoned him to caress it. He dropped his hands to his sides and addressed her comment.

“Brett does love his country. I agree with you. Maybe he loves it too much.” Jimenez had been a hard loss for all of them. It had sent Ross to a desk job and Cam to a career switch. Perhaps losing Jimenez had eaten at Brett until it became a cancer that overtook his patriotism and heroism. Maybe it had devoured everything good within Brett, until all that was left was a vindictive shell of a man.

Cam didn’t say any of this. He couldn’t articulate the dismay, disappointment, and overwhelming sadness he carried for the loss of his team and one-time best friend. He’d never been great with words. The difficulties began after his dad was wounded during the first Gulf War. He’d taken his life on Cam’s tenth birthday, drifting to sleep on too many pain pills while Cam’s birthday party was going on in the backyard.

He’d buried the horror of that year as he’d grown older, deceiving himself into thinking he’d dealt with his dad’s death well by pushing the memory further and further into his subconscious. By the way he struggled with consoling words, as well as second-guessed his motives and desires now, he hadn’t done such a good job of coping with what had happened after all. It was another pain meant to be stifled within a soldier’s stoic demeanor. Or leaked out to an Army shrink who might recommend pills and treatment that affected overall job performance and advancement. Instead, he offered the Cliff’s Notes version of the pain he and the others lived with daily and silently hoped no one discovered the quiet suffering he and others strove to ignore.

Audrey had turned her head a fraction, listening, waiting. He pushed forward. “Brett’s seen death. People close to him have died in battle. Maybe the GUWP approached him, told him about how the current world political climate needed a major reset. That they could end the rise of fascism with enough like-minded recruits. The theory sounds great. I could see someone who blames the death and destruction he’s witnessed on himself grasping at the GUWP’s solution.”

She faced him, big green eyes searching his expression. “But to lead an attack on training soldiers? Murder the good guys? I don’t get it.”

He met her gaze directly. “I don’t, either. All I can think is maybe Brett didn’t see himself as working for the good guys anymore. If you don’t agree with what your leader asks of you, wouldn’t you be quick to snap up a counterargument that suits your beliefs? Isn’t that how terrorists work, feeding on the weaknesses of their possible recruits?”

She nodded slowly, the gears in her brain working through the words he said. He offered her another option, one he didn’t really believe, but he owed her complete transparency. “Or maybe he was in a financial bind. Brett was always buying gadgets, wasn’t he? Maybe he got in debt too far, learned he could make extra money—”

“By having soldiers killed? He was a soldier, for crap’s sake!” She sucked in a deep breath, wrapped her arms around herself, and began shaking her head. “I’m done for the night. My mind can’t bend around anymore puzzles. I need a shower and a bed.”

She marched down the hall without ever looking back. Cam knew, because he watched her the whole way. When she disappeared from view, he turned back to the computer and found Zack studying him.

“What?” Cam schooled his face into a frown.

“You tell me, buddy. Besides that rather eloquent description that shocked the hell out of me seeing as it came from you, the way you look at her spells a bigger disaster for this project.”

“Bullshit. I’m concerned about her, that’s all. There’s a lot going down right now.” He pointed at the monitors, anything to throw Zack off the scent. Did he really have a certain “look” whenever Audrey was around? If so, then Zack was right—this would be a disaster, but not for the reason his friend suggested. Cam didn’t do relationships, and Audrey didn’t seem eager to jump into the dating pool, either. Shit, what kind of look did his face get, anyway?

Zack burst out laughing. “Bro, this is me you’re talking to. You’re interested in her, and from the looks of it, she reciprocates the feeling. But right now, she’s not in any position to fend off any moves you make. She turned in her ex, and he’s trying to kill her. She’s having to process the fact that he’s now a traitor and she was in love with him. That’s some heavy shit she’s dealing with, so you endeavoring to get in her pants isn’t good timing. Just sayin’.”

“I am not.” Cam slouched into the chair he’d vacated. He’d forgotten how intuitive Zack had always been. It pissed him off that his friend could see right through him. He was interested in Audrey that way. But then Zack was wrong. Cam wouldn’t make a move on her now, in this situation. Probably.

Zack skewered Cam with a surprisingly hard stare. “Whatever, bud. You can take my advice or not. That’s all it is. But, remember, I have a little extra knowledge on how soldiers react to stress.”

Aw, shit. Cam had forgotten Zack’s own battle with the mind-bending tricks of the spy trade. He’d been Army PSYOP trained and deployed, excelling in the psychological aspects of the war in Afghanistan. He’d been immersed in the culture over there, practicing their mind-think until he reached a point like a deep-sea diver who didn’t know up from down, right from wrong.

It was easy to forget about his experience because he took pains to bury the information deep inside himself. He didn’t talk about his training, what he’d seen or done. It had been his job to get others to talk. But Cam had seen him shortly after his discharge. He’d been a broken man. He’d gotten in too deep within the enemy’s philosophies. Deep undercover cops experienced the same sort of disconnect. Like many of them, Zack didn’t assimilate into normal life very well. His new wife divorced him, kept the house, and he’d gone off to the woods to lick his wounds. He seemed much better now, though Cam still wished he’d remembered his friend’s past.

Zack gave a quick drumroll to the desk and stood up. “I’m gonna take off. Are you gonna stay on this for a while longer? ’Cause if you log off, stay off for twenty-four hours or so. It doesn’t pay to show too much interest in any one thing. Capisce? Even if I have the best spookware around, there’s always somebody wanting to hack into it.”

Cam rose alongside Zack and shook his hand. Whether he agreed with his friend or not, Zack was really going out of his way, loaning them a place to hunker down and use his state-of-the-art toys.

“Thanks for everything. Even the ill-timed advice.” He stretched his back while Zack laughed.

“No problem. Keys are in the kitchen on a hook. Enjoy, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Yeah, yeah. Shut up and shove off.”

Zack saluted him and went out the front door, pulling it closed behind him. Cam locked it and then stood in front of the monitors. He needed to do some major research and get his mind off what Zack had said about him. Especially the part where he said Audrey was interested in Cam. That was No Man’s Land.

At least for the time being.