Chasing Shadows (11 page)

Rose cherished tried and true, the elegant simplicity of methods she'd successfully used in a career that helped to bring about the fall of the last of the Soviet regimes and stabilize the chaos that swept over the Baltic region in its wake.  

Billy was former Delta Force, had field-tested and helped to design state of the art equipment intended to help military operatives to infiltrate and if necessary, engage the enemy.  The man loved his gadgets and thought Rose hopelessly old fashioned.  Just one of the many reasons why Billy thought he should have her job.

   Her fingers danced over the red, orange, and yellow pins tapped into the corresponding hot spots around the globe.  There were already so many to keep track of, the number of threats growing daily.  Most of them were being dealt with by more traditional agencies.  But she still needed to keep on top of each one, just in case her team was called in.

Her fingers brushed across a handful of white pins.  Her people.  Almost three dozen in the field right now, thirty-four men and women missing the holiday, risking their lives for their country.  She could put a name and face to every one of those pins, also the name of their closest relative that she'd have to contact if something went wrong.

She tapped a cluster of two pins.  Chase Westin—only relative was his brother, Jay.  She wondered about the reunion of the brothers now that Chase had been forced back to his hometown.  She felt partly responsible for their estrangement.  But she knew it was for the best.  

The Team couldn't function as the multi-agency organization it was, crossing bureaucratic lines, even the occasional law, if its existence became widely known.  When any new team member was recruited, they had to break clean from their former colleagues and start a new life.  Which was why Rose only accepted volunteers who were unattached, no spouses, no children.

Her finger moved to the second pin.  Lucky Cavanaugh.  He was a hot shot at the ATF, best demolitions man around, but this was his first long term undercover assignment.  How would he do under pressure?  An electric shock raced through her finger, jolted into her gut.

The door opened without a knock, and Billy Price strode in.  

"Lucky's in trouble," Rose said.  

He joined her, pulling a Blackberry from his pocket instead of examining the map.  As if Billy didn't know as well as Rose exactly where all their people were.  

"I wouldn't worry," he said.  "Chase is looking after him."

Rose turned away from the map.  She dreaded calling Ralph Cavanaugh, Lucky's father, a retired DC Metro police sergeant.  

She looked over at Billy.  He had what some would call hard features, chiseled good looks reminiscent of old time movie stars, as opposed to the pretty boys who graced the big screen nowadays.  Character, charisma—Billy Price was a born leader.  He tended to the needs of their people, kept the mundane, picayune demands of the politicians away from Rose, freeing her to concentrate on more important details.

"His GPS is stationary, coordinates correspond with the motel," Price told her, swiveling the computer screen her way.   "Don't worry, he's got a good head on his shoulders."

When Billy Price told her not to worry, Rose worried; when he told her twice, she started draping the mirrors with black crepe.

"We in contact with Chase?" Billy went on.

"He's made all his regular check-ins," Rose said.  "But the phone at his brother's house has been disconnected."  

Billy raised an eyebrow at the fact that she'd broken protocol and tried to contact Chase via an unsecured line.  Rose ignored his look of disapproval.  Billy never said it, but she knew he sometimes thought she let things get too personal.  Just like a woman, he'd say if he ever dared.  

"Anyone crashing here tonight?" 

Billy didn't need to consult his computer.  "Hollywood.  And Marion's just in from LA."  

Rose looked up at that.  Marion Rockey was one of the few on The Team Billy didn't call by their nickname or surname.  Were the two of them involved?  The blonde was pretty, vivacious and smart—she'd be a nice match for Billy.

"Wake them.  And get EZ in, he can help O'Reilly in ops.  I want a diagnostic on every covert op database, starting with the ATF's.  We need to be ready to head to Pennsylvania."

"What good would that do?  Any action we take may blow Chase's cover."

As her second in command, it was Billy's job to point out anything she might need to take into consideration.  His attention to detail helped her focus on the big picture.  Still, it was damned irritating at times.  Especially as she knew that if she were a man and ex-military instead of former CIA, he would never question her authority.

None of that mattered now.  Something bad was happening to one of her people and Rose had to fix it.

"Do it, Billy.  Now."

CHAPTER 15

KC sat in the dark, knowing sleep wouldn't come, so instead she reviewed the plan for tomorrow over and over again, searching for any weakness, any potential fatal flaw she should prepared for.  She found none, had covered every contingency—except for Chase Westin, damn the man.

Her eyelids drifted shut, only for a second, she promised herself.  She could smell Chase's musky scent, felt his hands warming her as they explored her body.  His blue eyes blazed down at her, his hunger and need echoing her own as his mouth pressed down over hers.

Chase Westin may be a lowlife scumbag—but damn, he could kiss.  

KC remembered the thrill of pleasure that raced through her during their brief encounter.  Would she really have had sex with him?  Not only was he untrustworthy, could get her and her team killed, but wouldn't that also be like cheating on Jay?  She knew the kid had feelings for her, even if she'd done everything she could to discourage them.

She'd like to think she would not have crossed the line, that even if Westin hadn't left when he did, she would have kept control, stopped things before they went further.  

Her breath caught as she remembered the heat of his touch, and she knew herself to be a liar.

Damn, she couldn't risk seeing or touching—hell, breathing the same air in the same room as Chase Westin.  Maybe she should have him locked up.  

No good.  That thought brought with it the image of Chase in cuffs, his back to her as she ran her hands over his rock-hard muscles, his flesh simmering beneath her touch.  She envisioned him looking back over his shoulder with that maddening, superior smirk on his face, asking, "Was it good for you?"

And then facing her in a claustrophobic interrogation room, where they shared the same tiny space.  Her leg would brush against his, accidentally of course.  Restrained in his chair, he would be powerless to move away as she lowered her body onto his, straddling him, their faces mere inches apart.  Then KC would begin to—

A tapping at her window woke her with a start.  She leapt from the bed, settling into a fighting stance, her knife in her hand. 

Once her heart stopped pounding so hard it drowned out all sound, she heard Jay's voice.  She turned the light on and opened the window for him.  

Didn't the Westins ever hear of using front door? she wondered as he climbed inside.  At least Jay was polite enough to knock. 

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, her pulse still racing from the adrenalin surge.  "I could have killed you!"  

She looked past him and saw Neil watching from the curb beside the Firebird—that explained the unorthodox entry method.

Jay stared at the knife in her hand, his eyes wide.  "You didn't have to use that on Chase, did you?" he asked with a gulp.

She slid the knife back into its hidden sheath.  Good thing she hadn't drawn her Glock, would've given the kid a heart attack for sure.  

Even after everything Jay had seen and done, he still acted as if this was happening to someone else, a character on TV or the movies.  About time the kid got a taste of reality.  This was serious business with real lives on the line.

"Would've served him right if I did."  

"He's all right?  He didn't hurt you, did he?"  Jeez, the kid was really worried.  KC wasn't certain if he was more concerned about her safety or his brother's.  

"He wanted me to break things off with you.  I pretended to flirt with him, it scared him off." 

 Jay looked surprised at that.  "Really?  Nothing happened?"

KC shrugged.  "Just a kiss, nothing more—" 

Jay's face went red with anger.  She kept forgetting that as mature and smart as he was, the kid was still only nineteen, more controlled by hormones than brains.  

"It was nothing.  In fact, I initiated it.  Had to stay in character, you know?"  He didn't appear convinced.  Then again, neither was she.  "Anyway, it worked and he left."

"He didn't," he was blushing now, his eyes cutting over to the bed with its rumpled covers, "want to take things further?"

Whenever she and Jay spoke of Chase, it was obvious that Jay had no idea how to feel about his older brother.  Yeah, the kid had a lot of resentment and anger, who could blame him?  But Jay also still looked up to his brother, despite how far Chase Westin had fallen in the past year.

Jay slumped onto the bed, his hands hanging between his knees.  KC joined him, the mattress sagging under their weight, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.  They didn't cover this kind of thing at Quantico.  

What was she supposed to say?  Tough luck kid, your brother's a traitor and an asshole, and the only good thing about it is that your parents died before they found out?  

"My grandfather, Konstantine, had a saying for everything," she finally said.

He looked up at that.  She'd shared a little of her real life history with him, trying to help him feel comfortable around her.  The kid loved hearing about her grandfather and his adventures in Razgravia, the last of the totalitarian former Soviet regimes still standing.  

"Did he have an older brother who kept messing up his life?" he asked in a mournful tone.

"Worse.  His brother, younger though, not older, wanted to kill him. Gregor, his brother, joined up with Stalin and the Soviets, was dedicated to crushing the resistance Konstantine led.  Because of Gregor, one of my grandfather's fighters, a gypsy woman named Rosa, was captured.  

"Konstantine trusted that, although they were on opposite sides, his brother would still be honorable, so when Gregor proposed a truce to negotiate for Rosa's release, he went.  Then he was taken as well."

Jay's eyes went wide, the story from the past seemed to both distract him and help put his own family problems in perspective.  "What happened?"

"He and Rosa escaped, but they were separated afterward.  Konstantine was wounded, a young girl from a small village tended to him, kept him safe and hidden from his brother, and together they formed a new resistance cell."

"He fell in love with her, didn't he?"   

KC nodded.  "That was my grandmother, Sophia.  When the resistance crumbled and the Soviets took control, they escaped to America.  Anyway, my grandfather used to say
increde se inseala
, trust is treason."  

Harsh words, but a mantra the kid needed to learn if he was going to survive after she brought Gianotti to trial.  Her grandfather's words had served KC well during her career.  Even with Manny, who had taught her so much, gave her so much, she hadn't dared to offer her trust.  At times she woke with regret about that, that he never truly knew how she felt about him.  But most times she simply barricaded the thought behind the walls she'd built around her heart.  

She offered her grandfather's wisdom to Jay, her final lesson to him.

"You mean I shouldn't trust Chase—not with the truth, not with my feelings?"  He frowned, gave his head a small shake, denying her words of wisdom.  "You don't know him like I do.  He's a good guy.  At least he was.  He saved the lives of a lot of people when he was in the Marines, he was a hero."  Jay hung his head.  

"I always felt a little jealous," he continued in a low voice.  "My dad's hero was John Wayne, and here my brother grew up to be a real live John Wayne.  Tough for me to get much recognition for anything I did after that, you know?"

"Jay, your father loved you.  Everyone in town talks about how you're just like him.  Well, until I came along, that is, and got you in trouble."  She elbowed him, flashing one of "bad girl" KC's wicked grins, and he smiled back.

"I know.  Dad and I could talk about anything.  He was a great guy.  But you should've seen the look in his eye whenever Chase came home or called or even sent a letter.  He was so proud of Chase, of the man he'd become.  I know I'll never be half the man he is."

KC sprang off the bed to face him.  "You're already twice the man your brother is.  He may have been a hero once, but look at him now, a total screw up.  And you, you've shown more courage and strength than a platoon of Marines.  You kept your wits about you, stayed cool under pressure.  

"Agreeing to testify against Gianotti, much less waiting until we could build a good case before leaving here, that takes guts.  From what I've seen, more guts than what your brother has.  I mean, come on, how much courage does it take to sneak into a girl's room and threaten her to stay away from his brother?"

Her intention had been to instill Jay with some pride; the kid hadn't had much in the way of positive reinforcement since his parents died. Maybe that was why he'd fallen for her so easily.  He looked up, and KC saw that she'd gone too far, the fury at his brother had returned.

Jay got to his feet, started toward the window.  "Don't worry, he won't bother you again."

KC stopped him with a hand on his arm.  "He didn't bother me, not the real me," she said, reminding him of the role she played.  "I'm the one in control here, remember?  And you—" She ran her fingers through his too long, sleep tousled hair—what was it with the Westin brothers and their thick, shaggy hair that enticed her so?  "You have the rest of your life.  You can be anything you want, Jay Westin.  It was a privilege to meet you."