Special Ops Exclusive (14 page)

Nick nodded.

“And?”

He shifted in reluctance, dreading this part of the conversation.

“Talk to me, son,” his dad ordered.

Letting out a breath, Nick told his father everything Paul Waverly had said in that beach house.

When he finished, a chasm of silence stretched between them.

The wounded look on his father’s face caused guilt to tug at his insides, but Nick refused to apologize for voicing Waverly’s allegations. This needed to be addressed. He needed to know the truth, damn it.

“Well?” he said when his father still hadn’t answered.

The secretary arched one dark brow. “Are you asking me if I ordered a hit squad to kill you, Nicholas?”

He nodded.

“And if I allowed a deadly biological agent to be engineered in a U.S. lab and then tested on human guinea pigs?”

Another nod.

“And if I ordered Mr. Waverly to poison Sergeant Stone? And sanctioned an assassination attempt on three members of the ABN news team?”

Nick swallowed the lump in his throat. “Did you?” he asked hoarsely.

“No.”

One syllable. One tired voice, one sad expression.

It was all Nick needed to hear. How could he have ever doubted it? Of course his father wasn’t behind this.

On Nick’s other side, Rebecca didn’t seem as convinced by the secretary’s quiet denial. She leaned in so both men could see her and fixed Barrett with a cool look. “Then who did, Mr. Secretary?”

With a gentle smile, he met her narrowed eyes and said, “I think we all know who’s responsible for this.”

Rebecca paused for a beat. “Fred McAvoy.”

“Seems like the likeliest culprit.” Disappointment and anger hung from Barrett’s every word. “McAvoy gave Waverly the vial containing the virus. And because my deputy didn’t have access to the vials confiscated in the raid—they were shipped directly to the CDC—then that means he procured his sample elsewhere.”

“Directly from the D&M lab,” Nick guessed.

“McAvoy was not acting on my orders. I need you to believe that, son.”

“I believe you.”

Barrett turned to Rebecca. “But I sense that you’re the one I must convince, isn’t that right, my dear?”

Her tiny shrug confirmed that he’d hit the nail on the head.

“So, Ms. Parker, what will it take to make you a believer?”

She met his gaze head-on, and Nick couldn’t help but be impressed. Not many people had the nerve to stare his father down like that.

Or to ask the question that smoothly left Rebecca’s mouth.

“Would you kill to protect your country?”

The secretary rubbed his clean-shaven jaw. “If you mean would I kill someone who is a threat to the country, a member of a terrorist cell, a double agent, a threat to national security? Then yes, I would—at least if the justice system failed to competently handle the issue first, as it unfortunately often does.” He held her inquisitive gaze. “But an innocent? An entire village filled with innocent people who did absolutely nothing to wrong this nation? Never.”

The conviction echoing in Barrett’s words was unmistakable, and Nick could swear he saw a gleam of approval flicker in Rebecca’s expression.

“And never my son,” the secretary continued in an impassioned voice. “Before my Jeannie died, I promised her that our kids would always be taken care of, always be loved and protected. Nicholas and Vivian are the most important people in my life.”

“I believe you,” Rebecca said softly.

Nick experienced a burst of relief. This was the reason he’d asked her to tag along. He’d needed that validation.
Her
validation.

And it startled him just how much he’d come to value Rebecca’s opinion and advice this past week.

“So what now?” she asked, looking from one man to the other. “How do we expose McAvoy?”

“I’ll deal with McAvoy,” the men said unison.

Laughing, they exchanged a look, and then the secretary’s features hardened. “You’re officially out of this fight, son. Let me handle it from this point on.”

Nick just laughed again. “Dad, I love you, but we both know that ain’t gonna happen. I’ll be the one talking to your deputy, same way I dealt with your fugitive aide.”

His father’s jaw went stiffer than stone. “I can get the truth out of Fred.”

“So can I. And my way will be a lot quicker.”

Nick didn’t even bother sugarcoating it; his dad had been Special Forces himself, once upon a time. He knew the score. The methods a soldier sometimes had to utilize.

“Is McAvoy married? Kids?” Nick asked before his father had another chance to argue.

“He’s single. He lives alone in Fairfax County,” Barrett said grudgingly. “But he’s out of town at the moment handling a delicate matter in Beijing. He’ll be back in two days.”

“Text me his address to this number.” Nick recited the number for his secure cell so his father could key it into
his
secure cell.

The fact that both of them had untraceable phones for the sole purpose of covert communication made him want to laugh, but he fought the urge because, really, there was nothing funny about any of this.

“Don’t do anything foolish, Nicky,” his father warned. “And I want you to check in with me every few hours. You’re not disappearing on me again.”

“Don’t worry, once I get the truth out of McAvoy, we’ll handle the fallout through official channels. But I don’t want you to act until we have confirmation that McAvoy was involved. If you make a move before that, or give any indication that you suspect something, you’ll risk tipping McAvoy off, and then he might skip town just like Waverly did. Promise me you’ll sit on this until I have more for us to go on.”

Although the secretary didn’t look thrilled about it, he gave a quick nod. “Fine. We’ll do this your way, son.” That authoritative gleam in his dark eyes made a swift reappearance. “For now.”

Chapter 13

“W
ell?” Nick drove away from the side street where they’d left the rental SUV that had been arranged for them by the hotel concierge.

In the passenger seat, Rebecca released a little sigh. “I didn’t lie back there. I believe your dad, Nick. Nothing about him triggered my B.S. meter.”

She didn’t miss the relief in his eyes, or the way his broad shoulders relaxed. “So it wasn’t just me.”

“No. I think he’s telling the truth.”

“Me, too.”

“So what now?”

The question was becoming her new catchphrase, and she found it odd how readily she allowed Nick to call all the shots. Yes, she’d promised him that she would follow orders, but she normally wasn’t so obedient—God knew her parents could vouch for that.

“Now we stay out of sight for a couple of days until McAvoy returns from Beijing, and then I pay him a visit.”

She rolled her eyes. “Back to
I,
huh? Now that you’ve conquered your bias, we’re back to keeping me hidden away.”

“I’m just trying to keep you safe. What’s so wrong about that?”

“It’s not wrong. Just...old-fashioned. It’s the twenty-first century, Nick. Women aren’t fragile, helpless creatures that require a man to protect them. We’ve
never
been that way, no matter what all those big manly men wanted to believe.” She shook her head in aggravation. “Women are perfectly capable of taking on dangerous tasks, just like men. We can serve in the military, work in law enforcement, politics—”

“Are you really lecturing me on women’s lib?” Nick sounded vaguely amused.

“Just seems like you forget about it sometimes,” she answered with a shrug.

He changed lanes, making his way through the deserted streets of D.C. in the direction of their hotel.

“Darling, I have no doubt about a woman’s ability to take on the same roles as a man. Trust me, I’ve met some pretty badass women, even got my ass kicked by one during basic training.”

She grinned. “I would’ve loved to see that.” Her grin faded as a thought occurred to her, and suddenly she felt wounded. “So wait, are you saying it’s just me? You think
I’m
weak?”

“What? No, not at all. You’re probably the strongest woman I’ve ever met.” When he gave her a sideways look, the confusion in his brown eyes was evident. “Honestly? I don’t know why I’m so overprotective of you.”

Because you like me.

She quickly swallowed the words before they could pop out of her mouth. For some reason, Nick didn’t seem at all comfortable with his attraction to her. Which brought a prickle of offense, because, really, what was so bad about liking her? She was smart and funny and pretty and successful—any man would be
lucky
to have her.

So what was Nick’s problem? Was it just her job he didn’t approve of? Or maybe he didn’t like being attracted to a woman who wasn’t his usual type?

Then again, he hadn’t seemed to mind it a couple of hours ago when he’d been rocking her world....

The memory of their explosive joining sent a bolt of arousal straight to her core. God, the sex had been...thrilling. Amazing. Unexpected. Nick had been rougher than she’d thought he’d be. More intense. More passionate.

She’d loved every second of it.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Warmth spread through her as his voice broke into her thoughts. Penny for your thoughts? Gosh, who said things like that? Why did Nick Barrett have to be so effing cute?

“Sorry,” she said, “I spaced out there for a bit. Anyway, I know you feel protective of me, but I still think I should come along when you see McAvoy.”

Nick turned left onto their hotel’s street, then glanced over in reluctance. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“I think it’s a
great
idea. My being there worked to our advantage with Waverly, remember? We could do that whole leave-the-room ploy again where you pretend you’re going to torture him but can’t do it in front of me.”

“Pretend?”

At first she thought he was teasing her, but when she looked into his eyes and saw the feral gleam there, she realized he was dead serious.

“You actually would have tortured Waverly?” she blurted out.

“Yes.”

Yes. That was it. He didn’t say another word, and Rebecca sat there in silence for a moment, trying to make sense of this man. There were so many facets to him. One minute he was sweet and chivalrous. The next, he was devouring her body like a starved man. And then in the blink of an eye, he was a deadly warrior capable of torturing another human being.

She gulped, pushing away her confusion and focusing on the matter at hand. “Well, I still think I can be an asset. McAvoy might be more willing to talk if—”

It came to her attention that Nick was no longer listening to her. His shoulders had gone rigid, his handsome profile revealing the tense line of his jaw.

“What is it?” she demanded. “Is everything all ri— Hey, you just passed the hotel. What’s going on?”

Nick turned with a grim look and said, “We’ve got company.”

Rebecca battled a spark of fear. “Are you sure?” she demanded, twisting around in her seat to peer out the back window.

She didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but Nick’s body language said otherwise.

He nodded stiffly. “Positive. The black van parked on the street was the same make and model as the one that was outside the Liberty in Mala. The driver was the merc with the shaved head, and the dude reading a newspaper in that bus shelter across the street was also a mercenary.”

“How did they find us?”

“I don’t know. Maybe the hotel clerk recognized one of us. You, most likely. She could’ve notified the press that you were staying there. Or maybe Mr. X paid off every hotel worker in the city to inform him if a couple matching our description checked in.”

She shot him a dubious look. “That seems like a very expensive plan.”

“Hey, I’m just throwing out suggestions here.”

Rebecca felt terrible asking her next question, but she couldn’t stop it from slipping out. “Did you tell your dad where we were staying?”

“No,” Nick said curtly, “I didn’t.”

His foot slammed harder on the gas pedal and the SUV picked up speed, zooming away from the Capitol. Rebecca stopped talking and let Nick concentrate on driving, but her brain was still trying to make sense of this latest development.

She supposed the woman at the front desk could have recognized her and phoned one of the papers with a tip that Rebecca Parker had checked into a hotel with a strange man. Everyone in D.C. was looking to make a few extra bucks, and when a scandal landed in their laps, they weren’t going to ignore it.

The alternative was far worse—Secretary Barrett had alerted the hit squad to the fact that his son was back in town.

But darn it, Rebecca had truly believed in Barrett’s innocence. There had been nothing insincere about that man.

He’s a politician, Becks. Politicians are good actors.

True, but Secretary Barrett wasn’t a typical politician. He had been a soldier first and foremost. And he was a father. A good one, if the love shining in his eyes when he’d looked at his son was anything to go by.

When Nick slowed the SUV twenty minutes later, Rebecca lifted her head to examine their surroundings. They were on the outskirts of the city, pulling into the paved lot of an L-shaped motel with a flickering blue neon sign. Capitol Hills Motel. Not exactly an apt name, seeing as how they were nowhere near the Capitol and the landscape was flatter than a pancake.

“Stay in the car,” Nick told her as he parked in front of the motel office.

He hopped out of the SUV and disappeared through the office door. Wooden blinds shielded the door and front window from view, so Rebecca couldn’t see inside. She was on edge the entire time, unable to relax until Nick strode back to the car five minutes later.

“Did the clerk get a good look at you?” she asked.

“He didn’t even get
a
look at me, let alone a good one. The kid’s eyes were glued to the TV over my head. We should be fine.”

Nick drove across the courtyard and parked in front of the room at the very end of the row.

“Stay here until I check it out,” he ordered, and then he was out of the SUV and approaching the chipped red door of room 14.

Through the windshield, Rebecca watched as he withdrew his pistol and kept it flat against his thigh. A flash of silver winked in the darkness. The room key, which Nick stuck into the keyhole.

He crept into the dark motel room, and less than two minutes later, he reappeared in the doorway and gave her a nod of approval.

Nodding back, Rebecca unbuckled her seat belt and slid out of the car, then waited for Nick to grab their bags from the backseat.

She’d teased him about it earlier, insisting it was pointless to constantly lug that duffel around instead of just leaving it in the hotel room, but now that the hotel had been compromised, she was eating her words.

They entered the motel room a minute later and Nick flicked a switch, shedding light on their shabby surroundings. The room contained a pair of twin beds, a frayed brown carpet, ugly flowered bedspreads and a minifridge that hummed like the engine of a jet plane.

“Cozy,” she said lightly.

Nick didn’t answer. He locked the door, flicked the chain, then approached the bed and dropped the duffel bag on the bedspread.

“What are we going to do now?” she asked when he didn’t say a word.

He unzipped the bag. “Send a message.”

Alarm skittered up her spine. “What does
that
mean?”

“It means these mercenaries are just gonna keep coming. See, Mr. X underestimates me. He thinks he can send some goon squad, they’ll take us out like that—” he snapped his fingers “—and all will be swept under the rug. Well, it’s time to prove his assumption wrong.”

Rebecca didn’t like the reckless glint in his eyes. “I’m not going to approve of this, am I?”

“Probably not.” He promptly began removing a startling amount of weapons from the duffel bag.

They’d both donned all black for their meeting with the secretary, but Rebecca thought Nick pulled off the deadly look a lot better than she did. And he looked even deadlier now that he’d put on that shoulder holster and was strapping on so many weapons she didn’t know whether to be terrified or turned-on. She was kinda digging the badass warrior thing he had going on, but at the same time, her heart was beating like crazy at the thought of Nick getting hurt.

She watched as he knelt down to slide a lethal-looking blade into his scuffed black boot. “Are you seriously going after these mercenaries all by yourself?” she said in disbelief.

“Yep.”

“Fine, then I’m going with you.”

“No.”

“Nick, I’m serious. You can’t take on a team of mercenaries by yourself!”

“Yes, I can,” he said simply.

Okay, the confidence was definitely a turn-on. And it succeeded in chipping away at some of her terror. Looking at him now, dressed in black and covered with weapons, she had no doubt that this man really
could
take on a mercenary squad and come out triumphant.

Without another word, Nick stalked to the door, then halted as if remembering he wasn’t alone.

“Lock the door behind me,” he said softly. “And don’t even think about leaving this room, not even to grab something from the vending machine. If you’re hungry, choke down an MRE.”

Rebecca sighed. “Is there any way I can talk you out of this?”

“Nope.” His voice came out gruff. “And, Red, if something goes wrong...if for some reason I don’t come back tonight, I want you to call Tate. Same drill as before, all right? Go to Ecuador.”

Surprise filtered through her. “You don’t want me to go to your dad?”

He shook his head. “We stick to the plan. Tate and Sebastian will make sure you’re safe, and they’ll handle the McAvoy thread, okay?”

“Okay.”

Before he could reach for the doorknob, she dashed toward him and intercepted his hand. “Wait,” she burst out.

“What is it?”

She threw her arms around him and hugged him.

After a beat, his arm came around her waist to hold her close.

“Be safe,” she whispered, resting her cheek on his broad chest.

His warm hand stroked the small of her back. “I will.”

“Promise?”

“I promise,” he said huskily.

To her surprise—and pleasure—he dipped his head and dropped a quick kiss on her lips.

And then he was gone.

* * *

Nick was in warrior mode as he moved through the shadows. Unseen. Unheard. A predator closing in on its prey. It was three o’clock in the morning and the city was asleep. Not a single light was on in the residential street running parallel to the road where the hotel stood, making it easy for him to go unnoticed.

He crept along the narrow walkway between the two low-rise buildings across the street from the hotel. His initial sweep of the area had pinpointed the location of only one sniper, situated on the roof of one of these ivy-covered buildings. Ascending the fire escape took no effort at all, and then he was hauling himself over the concrete edge of the roof and landing silently on his feet.

On the other side of the roof, the black-clad mercenary lay on his belly like a snake, one eye focused on the scope of what looked like an M40 sniper rifle. Standard issue rifle in the Marine Corps, which hinted that the merc was former military.

Nick crept toward his prey, who was oblivious to the fact that he was no longer alone on the roof. It was only when Nick was a foot away that the sniper sensed his presence and abruptly twisted around. His eyes widened in surprise, his hand reached for the pistol strapped to his belt, but not fast enough.

Nick got his hands around the man’s throat and snapped his neck with an efficient crack.

One down.

No remorse. The sniper had been ordered to put a bullet in Nick’s brain. In Rebecca’s. He couldn’t risk knocking him unconscious and having the man wake up before Nick could finish sending his message.

His heartbeat remained steady as he lowered the dead sniper to the pebble-strewn rooftop. He arranged the limp body to make it appear that the man was still peering into that scope, just in case one of his merc buddies happened to glance up with a pair of field glasses. Then he descended the fire escape and locked in on his next target.