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Across the stretch of asphalt, the woman in question had her eyes locked on their small group as well. She’d gone white as a sheet. Her feet moved forward in something close to slow motion. The man at her side adjusted his pace to stay right by her until the couple stopped.
No one spoke. The aircraft engines rumbled and other base noises echoed—trucks, loudspeakers, people going about the business of parking and servicing planes.
The two women continued to stare at each other. Now that they were closer, the resemblance was unmistakable, right down to the freckles on the nose.
There were minor differences—Melanie Carson had more of a brownish tint to her hair and time had brushed some lines on her face. What did Stella see when she looked at the mother she thought she’d lost, a mother who’d walked away? He wanted to scoop Stella up and hold her, insulate her against the pain.
Stella stepped nearly nose to nose with the woman without reaching out. Her arms stayed stiff and straight at her sides. “I hope to God you’ve had amnesia for the past fourteen years, otherwise I’m going to have a tough time getting past this.”
Melanie Carson shrugged wryly. “No amnesia. Sorry, Stella.”
Smith interjected, “Touching as this is, the rest of this reunion will have to wait.” He gestured to Agent Jones. “If you’ll show Mrs. Carson and Mr. Al-Shennawi to the briefing room, I need a few moments with… Stella.”
Interesting. Melanie didn’t know about her daughter’s job, because otherwise why would Smith purposefully avoid calling her Agent Carson?
Smith charged ahead, orders given.
Apparently now that he’d gotten his shock value test to read mother and daughter he was ready to move this little party inside the hangar. Jose kept his hand on Stella’s back and to hell what anyone else thought. Rage and pain damn near radiated off her in waves, stirring every protective impulse in his body. He was staying by her side until he received a direct order to the contrary.
Once inside the hangar, Smith guided Stella to the door. Jose stayed with her every step of the way. Smith just lifted an eyebrow but didn’t argue.
“Sergeant James, this actually will be of interest to you,” the agent said as if it had been his idea to include Jose. “Mr. Brown, stay with us.”
Stella took a place at the long table, chairs, and a smart screen with a map of the region running feed in all four corners. Really? They were going to have a brief while Stella thought of her mother on the other side of the wall? Smith was a f**king sadist.
The senior agent leaned a shoulder against the wall by the screen. “We got the reports back on the bio toxin in the container.”
Jose sat up straighter. Hell, that seemed like years ago now. “And?”
“All exposed can enjoy a sigh of relief.” He thumbed a remote in his hand, bringing a report onto the screen. “The toxin levels were high enough to set off our sensors, but not enough to do more than make people sick—which explains how it flew under our radar. We would have caught the movement of chemical sales large enough to create a weapon of that magnitude.”
“A hoax?” Stella inched forward in her seat, her face overly controlled. “To cause chaos?”
“Apparently that’s what Harper and the warlord’s troops that brainwashed him intended.” Smith clicked through slides with images of the compound, the captors, Stella… the rescue.
Smith paused on a picture of the stolen artifacts, with the folded kanga Harper had stuffed in his backpack. “Their goal has never been order, but rather more anarchy so they can continue with their illegal trades.”
And now Sutton Harper was dead, a casualty of someone else’s larger plan.
Stella pointed at a new image. “Why did they drape the list on the VP’s wife?”
Brown took notes on his iPad. “To send a message? Or arrogance? My money’s on the former.”
Stella rubbed the back of her neck. “Or could she be involved?”
Brown looked up fast. “Did you really just say that, Carson?”
“It had to be said,” Stella answered. “True, Mr. Smith?”
Agent Hard-ass wasn’t giving anything away. “All scenarios have to be taken into consideration. But we must always—always—protect the families of our leaders without hesitation.” His eyes lasered in on Jose, finally coming around to the reason he’d been allowed in the brief. “We’ll sort it all out regarding possible high profile involvement once the dust settles.”
The official orders may not have come down yet, but it was clear even without Smith’s veiled mention. Special operations forces would be a part of the security detail and since his was already in the region, that put them at the top of the list. Jose knew his job and the best thing he could do for Stella was keep his focus, get through this nightmare scenario. He tuned in as Smith continued.
“We circulated a story that the cloth was promptly packaged up and mailed back to the States. Initially, we hoped they would try to track our decoy package. However, our intel on the ground indicates there will simply be another transfer that will take place tonight at the state dinner honoring the vice president’s wife. I don’t need to spell out how many years of operations—how many lives—will be in jeopardy if the list of our human assets becomes public knowledge. The balance of power and peace is already so unstable in this region.”
If intelligence agencies and special operation forces were compromised, unable to help stem the flow of pirates, warlords, separatists, terrorists, too many unstable factions to count, there would be nothing left to stop them—except war.
Fang’s words from earlier rolled around his head, how the kid had half-jokingly asked… Should I stay or should I go?
