Page 87 of Long Past Deadly

He went out the door fast because damn he was not that strong. He went straight to the locker room on the fourth floor. Thank God, there was water. He opted for lukewarm. That didn’t settle him, but he did his usual shower routine, toweled off, and dressed. Jeans, clean briefs, and a QM T-shirt were the uniform of the day. He refused to shave as a protest against a day not spent in bed with Lani.

He snagged a good morning from a grumpy Niles, a muffin, and a cup of coffee.

By the time he hit the ground floor to meet Remy, he was ready to rebuild – only this time the construction would be done with a deeper understanding of their threat matrix. With five years behind them and more complicated cases in progress, every corner would be assessed to give the people who believed in QM the upgraded safety they deserved.

Chapter Sixteen

Alanna’s phone was in the back pocket of her slacks. On the floor. She smiled against the pillow at the why, and was currently as comfortable as she’d ever been in her life. Good timing didn’t happen for her. Usually. Last night had been a miracle. One she didn’t know she badly needed. She lifted her slacks and pulled the phone from the pocket, planning to get an update on Whit. There was a message already there from Cait.

He’s awake. You can see him any time. ICU fourth floor.

Thank God. She had to talk to him. She also had to find a way to ditch this anger before she asked questions. He’d avoided her for weeks, wouldn’t let her help him, and the slight burned like a thousand bee stings. His time in the military and on the streets had made him introverted and defensive, but he was protective as hell. As the years rolled by, he worsened in protecting himself, too. She was lucky he’d taken her under his wing. Anger wouldn’t coax his story out of him.

She threw off the covers, cracked a blind to enjoy the early morning sunrise, and tested for hot water in the shower. She stood under the spray longer than she should have, lost in memories of long periods without water, food, clothes – all the basic necessities. It had been a long, hard slog to earn those things for herself. She bounced from those memories to yesterday’s bombing to next steps for hunting Mercer to an obscure fact about Seth Tenney and his missing niece. Her mind wouldn’t settle. Learn about good sex, sleep five straight hours with no wakeups, and stay against Quaid the whole time gave her an excuse to be scattered.

She pawed through her bag and settled on black jeans and her FBI t-shirt. God, she needed to go to her apartment in LA and get clothes. She could say something to Niles, but damn she’d been taking care of herself for a long time. It went against everything she’d built to let Niles buy and hand her things using Quaid’s money. She would smile and thank him, but if she was staying around, she couldn’t live like that.

Was she staying around? Rich boy. Poor Girl.

No. Wrong framing.

Retired warrior. FBI Agent. They were real with each other, and the past didn’t make the future. Something she was slow to understand.

Coffee in hand and a breakfast bar in the other, she entered the third floor admin area from the stairwell. Things were popping in Operations, but Harry had it in hand, so she went around to Quaid’s office. The owner group of Quaid, Mackey, and Elizabeth stood together in the middle of the office. She didn’t want to interrupt, but getting to the hospital was growing more urgent. She stopped and admitted it. She was afraid Whit would escape, walk off, disappear again. The man was deathly sick and in no shape to be running in the streets or fighting Mercer.

Quaid raised a hand and signaled her to his side.

“Good morning, Alanna.” Elizabeth clinked her coffee mug to hers. “We survived another day of this mayhem.”

Alanna smiled. “Yes, we did.” She turned her gaze to Quaid. “I need to get to the hospital. Whit is awake.”

“I’ll take you.”

She glanced from Mackey to Elizabeth. “I don’t want to pull you away from what you’re needed for here.”

Mackey tapped off a chime on his phone. “We’re getting everything back in place. We need a plan for what’s next.”

“I have to talk to my boss.”

“Why?” Elizabeth straightened the cuffs on a gorgeous black pinstriped suit.

“The next phase needs his permission to implement.” She sighed at their expressions. “I want a statewide manhunt. California Highway Patrol, FBI, SDPD, SD Sheriff, QM, Marshall Service, Warrant squad. The works. I want to make the atmosphere in San Diego so toxic it flushes him out. He’ll do one of two things. Run. And we’ll have the airports, trains, buses, freeways covered. Or he’ll confront. Us. If we set it up right.”

Quaid’s mouth opened and closed, his face clouding. “Who are you planning on bait?”

“You and me. We’ve pissed him off. Let’s push.”

“Shoot to kill?” Mackey’s frown said how much he liked this plan.

“At the team’s discretion. We’re not going into this alone. Hence, why I need my boss’s cooperation. Frank could be useful, too.”

“Good plan.” Harrison stood in the doorway listening. “Navy might want in. They’ve hunted him a long time.”

Having not considered the scope, she took a moment to think. The Navy had gathered all the assassin information, identified his signature. She wanted every direction he could go covered.

“Done. Make a call.” Quaid answered when she didn’t.

Alanna’s commitment to the plan settled. “Agreed. Let me give Ryker a warning.”