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“Fuck.” While he would never endanger anyone, each of the SEALs he worked with would have laughed him off the face of the planet if he’d acted like this with them. Caution was to be commended, but Parker might be right—he was treating her as if she were made of glass.
“We good?” she asked.
He rubbed his eyes, shook his head, and scanned the sky. The forest was holding back the sun but the cover of night was gone. “I’m not obsessed with my teammates. You, on the other hand…”
She waited, a note of expectancy in the air between them. When he didn’t continue, she reached down to retrieve the water, taking another sip. “I know.”
Why couldn’t he say he loved her? Why was admitting that so hard? Even here, right now, when their lives were on the line, why did it stick like a pit in the middle of his throat?
He watched as she walked to her horse. Her gait was normal if a bit stiff, shoulders set. Love was a two-way street, wasn’t it? She never said she loved him either, and maybe that’s why that pit was there.
Instead of mounting Yandi, however, she hauled herself onto Remy. Pointing at Yandi’s reins, she said, “Give those to me.”
Moe did as instructed, and she wrapped the leather around her hand. “Be safe. Be quick. And when all this is over and we’re at headquarters again, you’re spending the night. The entire, bloody night.”
His brows lifted. “What?”
“You bail after sex, and I get it—spending the night is a line you aren’t comfortable crossing. It might lead to commitment. But I’m putting you on notice, soldier. I’m done acting like it doesn’t matter. It does. I hate it when you sneak out and leave me. If you want a relationship, this is my new line in the sand—you stay the night. Got it?”
Had she forgotten what she’d insisted on before? “That knock on the head has scrambled your brains.”
“Maybe I’m seeing clearly for the first time,” she countered. She clicked her tongue and nudged Remy in an about-face turn. “The highest plateau is on the east side of the quarry. That’s where I’m going. When you come out, point that direction and give me the signal.”
“Parker?”
She glanced back. “Go. Now, Henley. It’s time to do your job. I’ll see you when you’re finished.”
The last few words were said with a determined tone that told him she wasn’t going to give him any goodbye or farewell. She had complete confidence that he would succeed in finding Lydia.
He hiked the backpack higher on his shoulder, put his head down, and started for the cave.
TWELVE
Beatrice had met plenty of powerful people in her lifetime—world leaders, elite military soldiers, and top dogs of national security and the justice system.
All of them paled in comparison to the natural authority that oozed from Conrad Flynn. His self-confidence was genuine, based on his abilities, intelligence, and cunning. It flowed as easy as the smile he gave her when she met him at the gate. While she’d allowed his vehicle to enter the property, it would not be permitted past the guard station. She blocked the path and motioned his driver to park in the designated area.
Flynn and his head of counterterrorism exited the vehicle. He made no offer to shake Beatrice’s hand, which she was glad of, before he gestured to his companion. “This is Julia Torrison. Julia, Beatrice Reese.”
Julia did extend a hand. “I’d say I’ve heard so much about you, but we both know that’s not true.”
Beatrice did not accept it. “Exactly how I prefer to keep it. I am quite curious how I got on your radar.”
Julia let her hand fall, a small smile playing across her lips. While she wore a striking blue dress with a matching jacket and heels, her husband had forgone a tie, and his gray shirt, under his off-the-rack jacket, was open at the neck. Beatrice found she rather liked the fact he wasn’t in expensive clothes, even if his wife was, and that he didn’t deign to wear a tie. “Your husband’s been doing some work for the president,” Julia said.
Ah. So this was about Cal. The “work” she spoke of had to do with tying up loose threads. The president was uncomfortable with certain actions taken under his term against foreign diplomats and their cronies. While, as with every president, the current one had deniability about most everything that went on under the CIA’s directive, he tended to stick his nose, as well as his feet, into things that were better left alone. Because he would soon be up for re-election, he needed someone to make sure those transgressions never got back to the American public.
Beatrice didn’t particularly care for him, nor the fact he was using his leverage against them to recruit Cal for his dirty work, but that’s the way politics ran. The upside was that she now had several items that she could blackmail the man with. Cal wasn’t being called on to eliminate anyone, just find evidence trails and destroy them, though not before he made sure Beatrice had copies of everything. “Why are you speaking to me, rather than him?”
Flynn sunk his hands into the pockets of his pants, casually scanning the area. “We don’t need Callan for this. We need you.”
She appreciated direct people. She also knew what he was doing with his casual observation—logging every single thing he saw to later analyze. It was, no doubt, second nature to him, having been the spy he was. He would catalog every entrance, every exit, every camera that he could see. When he left here, even if this was the only thing he saw, he would know more about her operation than she cared for him to.
However, Protocol Zero was in place, reducing any intel he might gain. Connor was on the main building roof with his sniper rifle and had her covered; Sloane was secured in a panic room with Vivi in the basement. Rory had eyes on them via the cameras and could round up those living there to either burn the place and bug out, or make the Director and his wife disappear as if they’d never been here.
While the scenarios sounded ridiculous and extreme, she’d learned to be prepared for anything. Command and Control had requested the CIA send an assassin after her once. A senator had blackmailed Rory and tried to kill him. Cal had lost an entire team while in the field because of his CO.
She would never take the chance that anyone from the alphabet agencies—NSA, CIA, FBI, or their local counterparts—meant her anything but harm.
