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Next to her stood a deeply tanned woman whose long, shiny black hair made me jealous. She shot me a wide smile. “I’m Chris—Christina Mendoza.”
“Peyton Linwood,” I said back, then immediately remembered that I already introduced myself. Heat creeped up my neck, and I knew I looked as mortified as I felt based on the smile gracing Chris’s face. Her kind expression went a long way toward easing my embarrassment.
The tallest of the group stood in the far corner. Rage seemed to pump out of her, signaling for the rest of us to keep our distance. The way she stared at me made me think she disapproved not only of my presence in the room but of my very existence. She didn’t introduce herself. Instead, she turned her head and stared at the wall.Sheesh. What’s her deal?
We all stood silently in the room. I shifted from foot to foot, unable to stay still.
“So…” Izzy drew the word out. “How’d you end up here?” She didn’t seem to be talking to anyone in particular, and for a long moment, nobody answered.
Finally, Chris cleared her throat. “Broke into a Supreme Court justice’s house.” All our heads snapped to Chris. She shrugged.
“And you got caught how?” I found myself asking.
A smile grew on Chris’s face. “I was skinny dipping in the pool and missed the alarm.” She shrugged. “It was hot in Texas.”
Adrienne snorted, then laughed outright. Chris telling her story was the icebreaker we needed.
Jessen was quick to follow. “My dad is a clinically diagnosed sociopath. The government was constantly calling him to run tests and whatever, thinking he was going to snap and go on a killing spree or something equally ridiculous.” She paused and narrowed her eyes at each of us. “I traded my place here so they’d leave him and my mom alone.”
How the hell was I supposed to respond to that? Most of my knowledge of sociopaths came fromCriminal Minds. I opened my mouth to tell my story when the door opened. The room, which had grown more comfortable the more we connected, went ice cold.
“Ladies.” The voice sent a chill of recognition down my spine. I’d never forget the voice that commanded me to get on a plane.
The next man who followed him into the office resembled Santa Claus disguised as a government employee. White hair, big belly, white beard, red cheeks. I half expected him to give us a cheery smile and a booming “Ho, ho, ho.”
A younger man with close-shaved nearly black hair stepped in and towered over the other two. He was dressed in what I thought of as a standard military outfit—hunter-green shirt, Army fatigue pants, and brown lace-up boots. A tattoo sleeve of Captain America in action went all the way up one thick arm.
If Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes had a baby, it’d be him.
He scanned each of us, the scowl on his face deepening. I knew contempt, and it was written all over his face. He didn’t bother to hide it.
The man whose call had sealed my fate cleared his throat. “I’m not one for small talk, so I’m going to lay it out for you.” He pursed his lips before continuing. “I’m Agent Brooks. This is Kingston Sazar.” Kingston clasped his hands in front of him and gave a brief nod. “And this is Agent Sparks.” Fake Santa stepped forward with a tight smile.
“You were all handpicked for this assignment for the different skills and specialties you bring to the table.If you’ve been paying attention at all during the last four years, you’ll know our last commander in chief pissed a lot of countries off, reneged on deals, insulted leaders.” It was impossible to miss, even for someone like me who didn’t care about politics. It was all over campus how job offers were being pulled or offered relocation out of the country. Ships with US exports were being sent away because of embargoes. It was a disaster and people were starting to suffer.
“We have a new commander in chief, but we’ve lost the trust of our allies, and we need it back. That’s where you all come in.
“You are now members of an elite black ops task force called the Ghost Unit. You will go wherever is deemed necessary and remove obstacles that our allies are unable to work around, showing them we’re serious about regaining their trust and that we can and will support them. Completely off the grid. No trail will lead back to your involvement or the United States government.
“Kingston will be training you for the next six months, helping you become masters of everything from hand-to-hand combat to guns and reconnaissance, and anything else you can think of. You need to become the best, there is no other option. Six months is not a lot of time, but it’s all we have. You fail, you die. Not because we’ll kill you, but because the people you’re going after will get you first. Let me be clear,” he said, giving each of us a long stare before he continued, “Ghost Unit isn’t some fun name we came up with. From the moment you walk out of this room, you will be a ghost. For all intents and purposes, the women who walked into this room will no longer exist.”
Agent Brooks slid folders across the table, and I opened mine. My eyes skimmed over a bunch of legal terms, snagging on the areas in bold. Eight years. If successful, we’d be released. The job came with pay. Not much, but living expenses would be covered.
“What about our family? I’m the favorite, and there’s no way my dad’s gonna let me disappear,” Adrienne said, shaking her head.
Agent Brooks glared at her. “You haven’t been read into the program, so you’re free to leave. I’ll inform the agents on your dad and brother’s case that their immunity fell through.” His gaze moved to Izzy. “I know you two came as a package deal. You’re more than welcome to leave with her.”
Neither Adrienne nor Izzy moved.
Agent Brooks nodded. “We have an approved list of family members you can speak to. All contact with them will be monitored. They’re currently being notified that you will be unreachable for the next six months, because you’re off doing…” He turned to Agent Sparks—Fake Santa fit him so much better—who shrugged, then Brooks shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Do we get vacation?” Jessen followed up. “Time to take care of ourselves and recoup?”
“Undecided at the moment. We will reassess the option after the first year. This job is fluid, but we need to put in the groundwork for it to take root,” Agent Brooks responded.
“And what if we don’t want to sign?” I asked, my voice so low I wasn’t sure anyone heard me.
Agent Brooks stood up straighter, tilting his head as his gaze went hard. “You should have thought about that before you hacked the United States Treasury. And then left a calling card like the arrogant little white hat you are. Breaking multiple federal laws that could identify you as a terrorist. Laws that come with hefty jail time.” The threat hung in the air, and Izzy sucked in a sharp breath.
