Always Been Mine (29 page)

Beatrice laughed nervously. “You’re very sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

“I can read body language, babe,” Gabe whispered, drawing her close. “Your mind is fucked up with all your own rules, but I bet you’re wet for me right now.”

Her breath hitched. Gabe went in for the kill. “I can’t wait to fuck you.”

It worked. He had her up against the door with his cock driving inside her within seconds of crossing the threshold of his apartment. He did keep his promise to make her the hot decadent drink and then took her home afterward. The following day, he made his intentions known to Porter that he was bowing out of the op. It would be another two months before he was released from his obligations, but it was worth it. And then he fucked up.

“That chocolate is going to burn, Gabe.” Slender arms came around him lightly. The hand not holding the whisk came up to her bandage-covered forearm.
 

“Is Rhino okay?” Gabe asked.

“Yes. He’s snoring on his dog bed. I think he knew he wasn’t getting any of this delicious concoction.”

Gabe added a bit of brown sugar and then a pinch of salt to the hot beverage before turning off the stove. He poured the dark, thick liquid into two mugs and handed one to her.

“What were you thinking about?”

He grinned crookedly. “The first time I made this for you.” They sat on the barstools around the kitchen island.

A blush stole up Beatrice cheeks. Damned cute.
 

“I remember that night.”

“You still insisted on going home,” he chided. “I wanted to fuck you all possible ways that night.”

“Judging by our lack of control when we got to your apartment, I’m thankful that one of us was still thinking of the consequences,” Beatrice retorted. “I don’t think I would have been able to walk the next day if you had your way.”

Gabe snorted. “Damn right. You were a very difficult woman to pin down.”

“I couldn’t trust you,” Beatrice said. “You would disappear for weeks, and then suddenly you would hound me every single hour of the day. All along you were still working for Dad.”

“Not after I’d asked you to become mine,” Gabe said. “You had no idea how much I wanted to tear apart every man you’ve dated, especially that fucking lawyer.”

“You expected me to pine for you?”

“In a selfish way, yes.” Gabe’s hand tightened around the mug. “You certainly had no shortage of men taking my place.”

“I never slept with them, Gabe,” Beatrice said quietly. “It never got that far. Contrary to what you think, I dated, but I don’t sleep with two men at the same time.”

Gabe nodded. When they first got together, he had been wary of asking her if she was sleeping with anyone else, thinking it would drive him to extreme jealousy and destroy their relationship even before it began. It didn’t take long before he destroyed it himself, and it had been the biggest regret of his life. “It killed me to leave you.”

“Gabe, we’re past that. It’s done.”

“Is it?”

“Why are you bringing this up again?”

Gabe finished the hot cocoa before he turned on his barstool to face her. “I killed the person inside me when I thought I could never have you. It was the only way I could function and do my job. Now, having you back, it scares me that I actually have this second chance with you. I can’t lose you, Beatrice. If you leave me, I’m nothing. If you get taken away from me, I’ll have nothing left. Nothing and no one will ever be enough to make life worth living.”

“Gabe, I don’t define you—”

“You do. More than you know. The man I am now is the man I’ve created to be what you need. Do you understand what I’m telling you, Beatrice? Everything I’ve done for the past three years destroyed the man you knew, except the part that loved you.”

Beatrice lips trembled, her eyes glazed. “Gabe—”

“I hung on to the memory of you,” he whispered. “It was buried deep down, but that was the only part of me I couldn’t let go. The promise of you saved me, Beatrice. That’s all that’s left of me now. My love for you. I’m not telling you this so you’ll pity me or think I’m emotionally blackmailing you to stay with me. I need you to understand why I’m consumed with keeping you safe. Because keeping you safe is keeping my sanity safe; it’s keeping my heart safe. It’s a selfish reason in a way. You need to know I’m not the same.” Gabe clenched his jaw. “You’re not getting a whole person.”

“Oh, Gabe, you’re so wrong.” Beatrice reached out and cupped his jaw. He caught her hand and turned his head to kiss it. “I can never define you, because no person, entity, or words can define you. You defy limits. I loved the man you were before, but I’m crazy in love with the man you are now. Telling me you’ve been able to come back from all the ugliness because you’ve kept your love for me burning inside you? You have no idea how romantic that sounds.”

Gabe snorted. “I’m the least romantic person.”

“Uh, I’m pretty sure everything that came out of your mouth in the last two minutes was romantic.”

“In a needy kind of way, maybe,” he grumbled.
 

“Hey, even superheroes can be needy once in a while. You’re arrogant and domineering 99% of the time.”

“Sass,” Gabe’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “You’re sassing me right now, right?”

“You’re denying that you’re bossy?”

“You don’t listen to me anyway, so I can’t be that bossy.”

“We’re such a pair,” Beatrice said. “We’ll never be a boring couple.”

Suddenly, he had a vision of him and Beatrice, older and with graying hair, walking along the neighborhood of Old Town Alexandria holding hands.

“What?” Beatrice’s question interrupted his thoughts.

“Nothing.” Gabe grinned at her. “Nothing at all.”

He liked that vision of them very much.

*****

The crates were unloaded from the tractor trailer. Inside were boxes of canned ground coffee from Colombia, except three of the boxes contained cocaine. Three of those cans were the ST-Vyl virus in powder form.

Frank Wilkes nodded to a skinny, bald man wearing spectacles.

Dr. Devlin, or Dr. D as he was known, was the brilliant scientist who created the Berserker serum and now the ST-Vyl virus. Soon, the D in Dr. D would be known as Death for there was no question of how lethal this new virus could be.
 

The Russians would be pleased and could settle their war in Ukraine once and for all. The internal wars within Syria and Iraq with ISIS should be the focus of the CIA, but the mess in Ukraine was taking away much needed resources. ISIS (Islamic State of Iraq and Syria) was a new jihadist terror group known for its extremely brutal methods.

Dr. D lifted the marked cans from the box and transferred them to a biological containment chamber that resembled an incubator. Using gloves attached to the chamber, he lifted the plastic cover and punched a hole through the cylindrical container to retrieve a sample. As he was conducting the efficacy tests on the virus powder, Zach Jamison strode into the warehouse. He was followed by Domingo Ventura and his men.
 

When Zach reached Wilkes, he said, “All done. We’ve amended the record of this shipment on the manifest, eliminating the three boxes.” He inclined his head toward the Fuego leader. “Ventura will escort the cargo back to the destination warehouse. Everything is settled there, too.”

Ventura would get his drugs and everyone would be happy.

Dr. D turned to the three of them and gave Wilkes the thumbs up.

Wilkes looked at the Fuego boss. “You understand we can’t do business for a while. With Jamison out of the senator’s office, there is not much we can provide you now.”

“I understand. This shipment should last us a while,” Ventura replied. “It’s been a pleasure, Mr. Wilkes.”

Ventura ordered his men to re-seal the open boxes, returning them to the crate. After loading them back into the semi, the truck pulled away from the warehouse. A roar of motorcycles joined the rumble of the transport outside as the shipment of drugs and coffee left the vicinity.
 

“How soon can you manufacture the virus?” Wilkes asked Dr. D.
 

“It should take me a day to set up my new laboratory and another two days to produce the samples.”

“You’re still going ahead with the auction?” Zach asked.

“I told you, Zach, the auction needs to happen,” Wilkes said. “In exchange for getting rid of Porter for you, you’ve agreed to oversee the transfer of the virus vials to the bidders.”

“Why do you need the auction sales? I thought the Russians are buying the whole lot of them.”

“It’s a million dollars and they can spread the news on the Black Plane about the availability of this bioweapon. Once Dr. D can synthesize ST-Vyl, we will have infinite opportunities.”

Zach didn’t say anything.

“Are you backing out, Zach? Don’t you want to avenge Crowe?”

“Of course I do,” Zach snapped.
 

Wilkes raised a brow at his outburst. The other man lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry, sir. What about Sullivan and Porter’s daughter?”

“Sullivan could still be a problem, but if I could get rid of the admiral, I’d have no use for his daughter any longer. I’m not a mindless murderer, Zach.”

“Well, you have the location of their safe house,” Zach said. “It was easy enough to put a tracker on Doug Keller’s car. So when are we going to do this drop?”

“I’m sending out a private message to the five I’ve chosen. The drop is going to happen in Culpeper, VA. I shall communicate with you on IP-MESH.”

Zach inclined his head, turned, and walked out of the warehouse.

“He doesn’t know of the ISIS threat?” Dr. D asked when they heard a car leave.

“It increases the risk of the drop. I don’t want to spook him. He’s an analyst, not a soldier,” Wilkes said. “I may be many things, Dr. D, but I’m still a patriot. The whole purpose of this drop is to capture the ISIS operative looking for a bioweapon. We’ve already identified who he is on the IP-MESH. The other four will be picked at random. There’s a strong possibility that ISIS intends to release the virus on U.S. soil as retaliation for our involvement in their war in the Middle East.”

“Isn’t it too risky? What if he gets away?”

“That’s why you’re manufacturing a killed virus.”

Dr. D looked miffed. “This was not our agreement.”

“It is now,” Wilkes told the scientist. Dr. D was a difficult asset to manage. He was a brilliant scientist and knew it. He desired to see the result of his work even when it translated to death. Wilkes had pegged him as a megalomaniac. He was dangerous.
 

“No one is getting out of that drop,” Wilkes continued. “I’ve got my own paramilitary unit ready to apprehend every single one of them. All, except the ISIS agent, are considered collateral damage. If they resist, they will be killed.”
 

“Very well,” Dr. D sighed. “When will your Russian associates need their stash?”

“How many vials does a single can produce?”

“Hundreds.”

“Excellent.” With weapons sales to Colombia drying up, the shift to bioweapon sales to the Russians could prove lucrative as his last hurrah before he went into retirement. Wilkes had no intention of selling it on the Black Plane, not knowing if it could find its way back into the United States. He was lying to Zach. He had recruited Jamison to be a sleeper agent to be inserted as necessary to keep tabs on the agenda of targeted politicians. Their association had been beneficial. Zach recruited his lover, Philip Crowe, who had become Wilke’s best double-agent. When Porter killed Crowe, Zach had slowly come unhinged and had been filled with a singular mind for revenge. Wilkes, being the opportunist, harnessed Zach’s thirst for vengeance to further his schemes, but now that Zach’s cover was blown, he had become a liability.
 

 
The auction meet could be the perfect excuse for an
accident
involving Zach Jamison.

It was too bad he had to get rid of Benjamin Porter. Wilkes’s man had a bead on the admiral in the last couple of days. Porter had been seen in Washington DC, as if taunting Wilkes to nab him. He could put a sniper on him, but he felt the man deserved a face-to-face meeting. Wilkes respected the admiral in a
worthy adversary
kind of way. Porter wasn’t a sanctimonious prick like the others in the agency. The admiral was willing to get his hands sullied to get the job done, but unlike Wilkes, he’d never done it for personal profit or cut a large swath of collateral damage.
 

Wilkes only cared about the homeland. Screw the rest of the world.
 

*****

Beatrice curled up on the sofa and studied the report Doug had brought in this morning. She hadn’t left the house in ten days. Gabe rarely left her side. He only did so when he had to take care of Rhino, otherwise he was always in her face. Thankfully, they had not killed each other yet, because she was getting stir-crazy with this isolation. She was very much a city girl. Washington DC was her playground. Living in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by woods, was not her idea of a sabbatical. Beatrice sure hoped her dad tracked down Zach Jamison soon or this Redrook guy. He called Gabe once a day to keep them updated, but so far there was no solid lead.

Gabe seemed to have no problem adjusting to this change of pace. He said he’d done time as a sniper. In training to be one, you were required to stay motionless, under cover, staying alert, and attune to every change to your surroundings for hours. It freaked Beatrice out sometimes when she’d be working behind Gabe, and he would make comments as if he had eyes in the back of his head. He said it was the minuscule sounds she made, the rustle of fabric that alerted him to what she was doing.

Her sanity was also helped by the presence of Sam Harper, a relatively new recruit of BSI. He was one of the few employees of the company who was not from the military. His background was mixed-martial arts and security for high-end clubs. Sam was coming off a security detail for a French dignitary—a deal brokered by Beatrice for BSI.
 

“How did you like Europe, Sam?” Beatrice asked.