Agent T3: d'Artagnan (Superhero Romance) (The D.I.R.E. Agency) (3 page)

Mitchell’s gaze shot to Tristan before it came back to Dar. “Angela is working with Chalmers and the traitors. She must be very valuable to them. Even her antiquated knowledge of computers would put her a cut above the rest. She and Chalmers would make a strong team.”

Dar felt like his head would shoot off his neck at any moment. His mother was a freaking traitor?

He looked at Tristan. “Did you know about this?”

“The video I showed you earlier? She’s sitting in Chalmers’ warehouse that contains the time machine.”

Holding up his hands in front of him, Dar backed up a step. “Okay, before I have a complete conniption here, are you telling me Angela and Chalmers are the people trying to buy weapons for the war? They’re working for Hitler?”

Tristan crossed his arms over his chest. “Yes.”

Dar squeezed his eyes shut. Now he understood why Mitchell was kicking himself. He’d sent back an innocent woman and Chalmers had turned her into a weapon.

Dar said, “Hell, they know the future. They know where to go for answers, what happens before it occurs…”

Mitchell held up a finger. “But, if they change the past, the future they know - we know - could change. What if they got that weapons technology and took it back to Hitler? We could be living in a totally different world.”

Running a hand through his hair, Dar looked away. They could all reside in concentration camps if Chalmers and Angela were successful. They had to be stopped.

He whipped back around. “How do we stop them?”

Tristan’s brows sat high on his forehead. “
We
?”

“I was hoping you’d ask that.” Mitchell stepped up beside his son. “I want you to work for D.I.R.E.”

Hell no
. Living up to his father’s expectations had been nothing compared to working for D.I.R.E. He could never pull it off.

“I don’t want the job.”

Mitchell lowered his arms. “Even if it meant your designation as D.I.R.E.’s exclusive time travel agent?”

“Me?” Dar glanced at his brother, whose eyebrows now sat just shy of his hairline.

“I’m dead serious.”

Had Mitchell concocted this idea because he was Angela’s son, or because he saw talent?

“Why?”

“Based on what I know and have seen, you’re intelligent and combat savvy. What you don’t know, you would pick up with ease. You’re a team player and loyal. What’s not to like?”

“My history. My heritage.”

“Your father was a damned good soldier, Dar. You know that. He’s just made some bad choices.”

Choices. Is that what they were? Dar had followed his father’s path. Had sold government secrets and weapons technology. He’d laundered money and ruined competing businesses.

He’d done all of those things with full knowledge. No doubt. He would never approach his past like his mother had approached hers. He’d own up to his mistakes
.

However, in his own defense, he’d grown into the business, had been raised around it until he could participate in it. Naylor Interests was all he knew.

Before Rachel. Before his sister’s appearance changed everything.

Now, he actually
had
choices. He had family that wanted him around. Family that would band together in the fight against Robert that was sure to come.

Mitchell offered the world’s most powerful mercenary agency on top of that
.

Next thing he knew, a genie would appear and grant him three wishes.

“And for the record, Dar, your mother was smart, witty, and soft-hearted. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. In my opinion, your heritage is spot on.”

Dar scratched his chin. He had a father who was a world-renowned criminal, and a mother who faked her own suicide and now worked for the Nazis in World War II
.

Obviously, D.I.R.E.’s standards weren’t very high.

Despite his heritage, he had an opportunity to change it. To overcome it. He had an opportunity to work for the good guys. To become a super-powered agent and travel through time. Did it get any more exciting?

“Talk to me about time travel.”

Mitchell gave a one-shouldered shrug. “For details, we’d need to get with Robinson but, your enhancements would be used for delicate, rare situations. Hopefully, not much at all. However, with your skills as a standard agent, we’d find plenty to keep you busy.”

“The secrets...” Dar scowled at him. “I hate them. There’d have to be no secrets.”

Tristan scoffed. “Good luck with that...”

Mitchell cocked his head. “Naylor, you know secrets are necessary. I can’t promise you that.”

Damn, he’d tried.

“What about my father?”

“What about him?”

“You could never ask me to take him out. I couldn’t do it.” His father always
had
said he was soft.

“I would never ask you to do that, Dar. If I wanted Bobby dead, it would’ve happened a long time ago.” He let out a breath. “Despite what you think, I don’t hate him. I hate what he’s done and I hate what’s happened to him, but I don’t hate him.”

“Is that why you haven’t sent him to prison yet?” It still bothered Dar that his father remained on D.I.R.E. grounds with him and Cassandra.

He shook his head. “No.”

“Then why?” Tristan said.

Mitchell stared at him without a response. Cursing, his brother looked away.

Did he want this? All of the secrets and bullshit that came with the job? Granted, the idea of time travel fascinated him. He’d been envious of Aidan when he took his trip. The idea of seeing the world in another time boggled his mind. How could he not accept?

His father would go ballistic. Absolutely ape shit. Then again, he’d said they were no longer his children so, what did it matter?

Mitchell’s voice held a strong note of warning. “Make no mistake, Naylor. I trust you completely, or I wouldn’t make this offer. If your hesitation is based on your lack of loyalty, lay it out on the table now.”

Tristan gave Dar a confident grin. His brother knew Dar was committed. His decision to side with Cass and Aidan against Robert had automatically put him on the same side as D.I.R.E. “What do you think, brother?” He had to be crazy for even considering this.

“With you, me and Aidan together, we could kick some major ass.”

The idea of working with his brother and Aidan rocked. Tristan had it right – they’d make a virtually unstoppable team
.

What if he refused? What would Mitchell do? Send him to prison?

Dar had been floundering since D.I.R.E. took over Naylor Interests. He didn’t know what the future held for him. Mitchell offered an exciting, new path, one he didn’t deserve.

He looked over at Jocelyn. She needed someone to watch over her. Until Chalmers and Angela were stopped, she’d remain in danger
.

Damn, his mind was on overload. He needed time to think. “Give me some time, Mitchell.”

“Okay, but the longer you wait, the sooner they could show up here looking for Aidan, weapons - or Jocelyn.”

#####

That night, Dar dug through the brown leather satchel in Jocelyn’s cabinet.

The bag contained a June fifth, nineteen forty-four
Life
magazine with the U.S. infantry on the cover, a book on botanicals and a pair of silk pantyhose.

Rummaging around in the bottom, he found a black scarf. Wrapped inside was a pair of dog tags and an old Smith & Wesson Model 10 with no bullets. Holding up the tags, he noticed blood smeared on one corner.
Horner, John
.

Was he her husband? Boyfriend?

Mitchell had it right. To get attached to her would be a mistake. Just because the items were wrapped in a black scarf didn’t mean Horner was dead. He could be waiting for her. She could not only have a husband or boyfriend, she could have children back in time. If Mitchell’s objective was to alter the past as little as possible, Jocelyn had to go back.

Yet, how could they,
he
, send her back knowing traitors wanted to kill her? Why didn’t her father protect her? Or Horner?

His phone vibrated in his pocket. Tristan. Stepping out of the room, he answered
.

“I thought you’d want to know how the interrogation went.”

Leaning back against the corridor wall, Dar stared down at the speckled tile. “I hope he didn’t want to cooperate.”

“He didn’t. The sonovabitch was a lot tougher than his comrade Buckner, though. Aidan used his gloves quite a bit.”

Dar winced. He wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of Monroe’s gloves. No way.

“What did you learn?”

“They brought Jocelyn with them to lure Aidan to the machine. Apparently, Nathan Chalmers is under a lot of pressure to deliver the weapons technology they tried to buy from Jim Monroe. When they saw Aidan’s powers, they knew their German boss, VonFussenhoffer, would want him. They thought Aidan might compensate for their lack of delivery on the technology and the gold they’d brought forward to pay for it.”

“Why are they trying to kill Jocelyn?”

“She knows too much. VonFussenhoffer wants her dead. The plan was to tell Chalmers she was killed by one of us.”

Dar cursed in his head. She would
not
go to D.I.R.E. No way in hell.

“He also said we’ll never stop them. Even if we kill all of them, VonFussenhoffer will just send more. He said spies are all over the country.”

Jocelyn actually lived amongst this? What kind of life did she lead, creating time machines with her father in the middle of a world war?

He peered around the corner to check on her. She slept soundly. “I need to take Mitchell’s offer, don’t I?”

Tristan didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

Dar gave a sarcastic chuckle. “Glad you put some thought into it.”

“I have, Naylor. I think you’re an ideal candidate.”

“You thought Monroe was an ideal candidate.”

“After all of the puking he did, we both know he’s a wuss.”

Dar laughed aloud. “Damn, I’ll need to stop eating a week before I go.”

“Speaking of Monroe,” Tristan said, “I told him about Angela. He’s going to tell Cass.”

Dar winced in his head. “She’ll freak, Jacobs.”

“Yeah, well, I kinda freaked, too.”

No shit. This entire scenario felt very surreal. Brothers and sisters, his mother living in the past, a Naylor joining D.I.R.E…

Could he go back in time and stop this threat from the past, and keep Jocelyn safe? Would she hate him if he had her father arrested or worse?

Why did it matter to him what she thought?

When it came down to it, he didn’t want to be his father. He didn’t want to harbor hatred and animosity. He wanted his new family, and the opportunity Mitchell offered.

So, what are you waiting for?

Damn, he hoped he knew what he was doing. “Tell Mitchell I’m in. I’ll join The D.I.R.E. Agency.”

The sound of running water woke her. Sitting up in bed, she cocked her head.

It came from her lavatory
.

Someone was in her bathroom
.

Looking around, she needed to find a gun.
Something
to use as a weapon.

Spotting a leather bag on her table, she reached over and pulled it into her lap. Rummaging around inside, she found a gun and checked the chamber
.

No bullets. Rats.

It would have to do.

Sitting up on the side of the bed, her head swam. Bracing herself on the mattress, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Weakness would
not
hinder her. She had to stay alert.

Standing up, her legs wobbled slightly, the floor frigid beneath her bare feet. Approaching the bathroom with careful movements, her heart pounded against her ribs in staccato beats. She darted into the doorway, the gun pointed in front of her
.

A huge, sun-kissed man stood half naked at her lavatory, his eyes wide with surprise. He had large, bare feet and solid, well-developed calves. A white towel rode low on his hips, covering him from knee to navel. His abdomen and chest looked chiseled in stone, with ridges like a turtle shell. His muscular arms were massive, his wide, bulky shoulders filling the tiny room
.

Shaving cream covered his right cheek, his aqua eyes framed in long eyelashes. He had a dreamy, white smile and long, dark hair that clung to his nape in wet strands
.

A movement at his hips drew her gaze. Her face filled with fire
.

“It’s just me. You can put down the gun.”

She remembered his deep, soothing voice, remembered him sitting beside her on the bed and holding her hand. A sense of calm washed over her, a feeling of trust.