Agent I1: Tristan [01] The D.I.R.E. Agency (10 page)

The Rocky Mountains, massive and stoic, served Robert Naylor well in hiding signals and activities he’d just as soon not advertise to The D.I.R.E. Agency, or his competitors. Never mind that the mountains once held sentimental value. Those memories had been long buried.

“We found a match on the frequency.”

Robert’s heart kicked up a notch. Whipping around his leather chair, he stared at d’Artagnan standing in the office doorway. His son’s aqua eyes were bright with optimism, the first he’d seen in a long time.

“Are you sure?” Naylor grasped the chair arm in a tight-knuckled grip.

Dar stepped into the spacious, ultra-modern office and shut the door. His steps were muffled in the thick, gunmetal carpet.

“Yes.” Dar smiled as he leaned over the desk. “
Finally
.”

Grinning, Robert leaned back in the soft, black cowhide. Mitchell’s little minion had been foiling his missions for years now. Neither he, nor Dar and his team of agents, could figure out how he’d accomplished it.

Tristan Jacobs had always been a damned good agent, but the last year or so, he seemed to have kicked it up several notches, almost to the point of impossibility. Naylor knew this high frequency had something to do with it.

“What’s generating the frequency? What’s it used for?”

Taking his Walther PPK from the back of his jeans, Dar placed it on the corner of the desk before taking a seat. “That’s all we have so far.”

Robert shut his eyes and mustered patience. His son was the master of half-ass. A ‘but’ existed in every answer he gave. Sure, he had smarts and was stronger than an ox, but Dar never gave him a complete answer.

Slapping his hand on the desk, papers scattered and floated to the floor.

“I need to know why he uses that frequency, Dar. Can’t you ever give me real answers?”

Dar’s nostrils flared. Other than a smart mouth, Robert knew he’d never see more of his son’s temper.

“You act like that damned frequency was easy to trace. It’s taken us months to discover it, more or less pinpoint it.” He dismissed Robert with a wave of his hand. “Hell, I thought you’d be pleased. I should’ve known better.”

Robert jumped up from his chair and turned to stare at the lake. Something wasn’t right. Mitchell would never endanger Jacobs like that. He wouldn’t purposely assign a high frequency to an agent unless he had a damned good reason.

“Father, do you have a moment?” His daughter, and Dar’s twin, Cassandra, called over the telephone intercom. “I want to show you something.”

His gaze met Dar’s before he answered. “We’ll be right down.”

Making their way to the Operations Center of Naylor Interests, Robert and Dar leaned over Cassandra’s shoulder where she sat at a large all-in-one computer.

Where Dar was incompetent, his beautiful daughter was soft
and
incompetent. Despite all of the warfare training he’d put his children through, they still didn’t measure up. Dar would’ve never made it in the SEALS and Cassandra… she’d proved to be a hopeless romantic like her mother.

“What am I looking at?” Robert said.

“Tristan Jacobs’ frequency.” She pointed at the screen. “Here he is in Trunk Bay, Virgin Islands, yesterday afternoon.”

Lucky bastard. Robert wouldn’t mind lounging on a Caribbean beach with a couple of lusty women.

Dar stood hands on hips. “Yeah. So?”

She brought up another window. “Here he is in Rome, a half hour later.”

Robert pulled back his head. “What?”

“
Paris
,” she added, “an hour after that and Scotland, two hours after
that
.”

Dar shook his head. “Something’s not right. Is there a problem with our analyzer?”

With a shrug, Cassandra’s blonde ponytail fell over her shoulder. “I guess it’s possible, but not likely. We can track other frequencies of lesser intensity with no problem.”

Robert squinted at the screen. Were they dealing with some kind of satellite that bounced the frequency? Did it camouflage the true frequency of different agents?

Cursing under his breath, Robert ran a hand through his hair. Dammit, he needed answers and his children were good for nothing.

“But, get this,” she said. “At eight-thirty this morning, he was in Trunk Bay, Virgin Islands again. At eight-thirty five, he was in Creekmore, Texas.”

Robert whipped around to stare at the screen, the taste of panic bitter in his mouth. “
Shit
. That means he knows about the Chalmers deal.”

They’d made a point of advertising Brazil as the rendezvous point. He couldn’t afford for Jacobs to ruin this transaction. It was Naylor Interests most lucrative agreement to date. If he wanted, he could retire after this one.

Memories of Kate Monroe flooded his mind.

Why did he immediately think of her when he thought about settling down? He hadn’t allowed himself to think her name, more or less say it, in almost thirty years.

Jim Monroe had been gone six months now. Robert hoped he burned in hell. She was a widow and living in Creekmore.

Did she ever think of him at all?

It had made Robert’s day when he learned someone had taken out Jim. Monroe had been a mastermind when it came to weapons technology. He had designed some incredible weapons for the government way back when, and had made a lucrative living selling to foreign countries and private organizations up until the time of his death.

Of course, no one was supposed to know that. Yet, Robert couldn’t ignore the activities of one of his greatest competitors. Even the way he died.

He clenched his fists. Jim may have stolen Kate from him all of those years ago, but who’s laughing now?

Dar waved a hand in front of his face. “Hello? Did you hear what she said? He went from the Virgin Islands to Texas in
five minutes
.”

Robert shoved away Dar’s hand. “That’s gotta be a glitch. Cassandra, get me everything you can find on Jim and Kate Monroe. Dar, I want you in Texas yesterday. Take Matt with you. See if you can find Jacobs and scope out the rendezvous point. If you find him, call me.”

Chapter 8

Tristan loved the outdoors. Even in Creekmore, Texas, where the smell of oil overwhelmed the air and humidity dampened his white t-shirt at nine-thirty in the morning.

Rachel had volunteered them to babysit Ty today since she didn’t have to work. She’d requested two weeks off for her honeymoon anyway and, after all that had transpired, she decided she could use the break.

Tristan had a few ideas on how they could rest.

Sitting on a bench in the City Park, he watched her talk with a young mother by the playground slide. Ty played in a sand pit with two other young boys. He giggled when one of the boys poured sand on his head.

Living on the beach, Tristan had experience with sand. He knew they would have to hose down the boy before they took him in the house.

Rachel’s laughter caught his attention. Today, she wore a pair of white shorts, tennis shoes and a snug-fitting, pale pink tank top. He’d nearly had a heart attack when she walked out of the bedroom. The woman had absolutely no idea how beautiful she was.

He leaned forward to rest his arms on his thighs. One thing’s for sure, Frederickson had royally screwed up and he knew it. The poor sap.

Tristan couldn’t say he knew what it meant to have sex with two women at once. He supposed if two women had approached him a week ago and asked him to have sex with them, he would’ve jumped on it. He was a man after all.

However, now that he’d had Rachel, she seemed to be the only woman he wanted. He could have an entire professional cheerleading squad approach him and he’d turn them down.

She’d really screwed with his head.

Last night, when he asked Mitchell about Jim Monroe, he clammed up tighter than a monk. However, when Mitchell found out he was spending the week with Rachel, he blew a gasket and reamed him out for a good ten minutes.

What did I tell you about caring for people? Don’t be stupid, Tristan. You’re making yourself vulnerable…

Yeah, yeah. Tell him something he hadn’t heard since he was three-years-old.

“
No
.”

Tristan’s head shot up. Two men stood by the boys, talking to them. Warning bells clanged in his head. Setting his armband to facial recognition, he jumped up and headed over to the sand pit. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rachel’s gaze follow him.

“Ty. Everything okay?” He looked down at the boy, then up at the men.

Both of them glanced at his armband, then up into his eyes. The blond wanted to run. The dark-haired man faced Tristan with daring defiance in his aqua eyes.

Ty gave his head a fierce shake. “No.” He pointed up at the men. “They’re strangers.”

The other two boys nodded vigorously.

“Ty, why don’t you guys head over to the slide?”

Dropping their buckets, the three of them took off like a shot.

Tristan turned to the men and crossed his arms over his chest. Both wore slacks and a button-down shirt. Odd attire for a day in the park.

“What are you doing? Didn’t your mother tell you not to talk to strangers?”

The dark-haired one said, “Nope. I don’t remember reading that in her suicide note.”

Tristan stilled. He knew what it felt like to lose a mother to suicide. However, it didn’t excuse this guy’s wise ass behavior.

“Don’t come around them again. Do I make myself clear?” Driving home his point with a glare, Tristan turned and walked away. He messaged the facial scans to
D.I.R.E
.

“And, here I thought all Texans were friendly.”

Turning back, Tristan wasn’t surprised to see a smirk on the dark-haired man’s face.

“They are.”

Rachel met him halfway across the park, clutching Ty’s hand.

“Do you know those men?” he said.

She shook her head. “They aren’t from around here. We always get new oilfield workers around, but those men aren’t dressed the part.”

Looking over his shoulder, Tristan watched them climb into a dark SUV and drive away. His gut told him they were professionals. Were they connected to Jim’s murder? Were they after Rachel next?

He couldn’t go down that road.

Bending down, he peered into Ty’s face. “You did good today. I’m proud of you for not talking to strangers.”

The boy gave him a big grin. Tristan ruffled his hair.

He stared down the road where the SUV had disappeared. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this, baby. I don’t like it.”

Hooking her around the shoulders, he kissed her temple.

“When we’re out in public, I don’t want you two feet away from me, got it?”

She nodded. “Who do you think they are?”

“I don’t know, but they’ve got bad news written all over them.”

#####

Cloaked in invisibility, Tristan circled the perimeter of Rachel’s house, certain he’d catch the men he’d seen earlier.

He’d pulled Ty aside and conned him into asking his parents to invite Tristan and Rachel over for dinner. It hadn’t taken much. The kid loved Rachel. Tristan thought the kid might actually like him, too.

The feeling was mutual.

Mark and Glenna had jumped on the idea of dinner to thank them for watching Ty. He’d set his armband alarm to go off in the middle of dinner so he could excuse himself.

Searching her yard and the neighbor’s yards, he found nothing. He hadn’t heard from
D.I.R.E
. on the facial recognition photos, either. Messaging Mitchell, he stepped inside Rachel’s house and shut the door.

“Why haven’t I heard from you on those IDs I requested?”

“Because I was busy making plans.”

“Plans for what?”

“One of the men you saw today is d’Artagnan, Naylor’s son. The other is Matt Leopold, one of his agents.”

Dropping back his head on his shoulders, Tristan cursed a blue streak. “They tracked me here. They must be onto my frequency. I’m turning it off before they figure out they can pinpoint me.”

“Tristan, I want you to come in.”

“No, I can’t leave Rachel.”  He knew she’d never leave Creekmore indefinitely because of her job and her friends. She loved them too much.

Mitchell boomed into the phone. “What do you mean you can’t leave her? You’re a multi-billion dollar asset of
The D.I.R.E. Agency
. We own you. You come in when we tell you.”

Tristan gritted his teeth as he paced the length of Rachel’s living room. “You can go to hell. If you want me so bad, come get me. I’m not leaving her.”

“You screwed up, selfish
sonovabitch
. If you weren’t there, she wouldn’t be in any danger. They’re in Creekmore to get
you
.”

Tristan blew out a breath. He knew that and hated himself for it.

Mitchell’s words warred with Tristan’s need to protect Rachel from Cody. He knew they hadn’t heard the last of Brewster. He also knew he didn’t trust anyone else with Rachel’s safety.

“Send down Aidan.”

“His procedure went well but he isn’t ready for duty yet.”

“Procedure? What procedure?”

Mitchell remained silent.

Shit
.

“If they’re after me, why didn’t they grab me today? They had me in the palm of their hand.”

“Maybe they didn’t know it was you. Or, maybe they’re just trying to confirm the frequency is actually tied to you. If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll send down an agent to stay with the Monroe girl.”

“Like hell you will. No one is staying with Rachel but me or Aidan. If you learn something new, let me know. And, when am I going to get that info on Jim Monroe?”

“When and if I’m ready to send it to you. Now, I want you to get your ass in here-”

Tristan disconnected and uttered a sharp, succinct curse. Should he leave? Was he doing the wrong thing by staying?

Brewster was just waiting for Tristan to leave, and now that Dar Naylor had seen him with Rachel, who’s to say he wouldn’t go after her to get to him?

He ran his hand through his hair. Tristan thought he’d have five days to get this shit settled. Now, thanks to Dar Naylor, it had all been put on speed dating time.