Inferno (7 page)

Leaning forward, she wrapped her arms around him. Pressing her cheek against his, she closed her eyes. He reached up and hugged her tight.

“I will support you in whatever you decide to do, Sebastian.”

“There are no easy paths here, baby. No easy roads to take.”

“I know,” she murmured. “But things have never been easy for either of us. Maybe…maybe this is the start of us finding a better way.”

“I want that,” he said, turning and gently cupping her face between his hands. “I want that so much. I want to watch our little one grow up without the fear of them becoming a target or overstepping Marx’s bounds. I dream of a life where I don't want to hyperventilate every time you leave the gates," he said with a sad smile.

Her body jerked with a small laugh. “Now you might be asking for a bit too much.”

Tilting his head, he searched her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t think there will ever come a time when you don’t want to hyperventilate when I leave the house,” she teased.

It was slow at first, and pained, but a genuine grin inched across his face. “You’re probably right there.”

“I doubt it’s going to get any better once the baby comes.”

“Not likely, darling,” he agreed in a husky murmur. “I love you both way too much to lose you.”

He kissed the tip of her nose. Taylor scrunched her face and smiled as he settled his forehead against hers.

“It wasn’t much, but do you feel better for sharing?” she asked.

His husky laugh rolled through the room and wrapped around her heart.

“No,” he admitted. “I shouldn’t have told you any of the things I did. But I do appreciate the fact that you know you need to be a little more cautious and aware. You can’t trust anyone anymore, baby. Now more than ever, I need you to keep that in mind.”

“I will, Seb. I’ll be careful. I promise.”

“More than careful, Taylor,” he warned.

“Scout’s honor,” she said, holding up her fingers in a solemn swear.

He snorted in amusement before reluctantly releasing his hold. “Enough about work. I’m going to take this stuff into the kitchen and pick up. When I come back, we’re going to do what we should have been doing all along.”

“And what would that be?” she asked, wiggling a brow.

Standing, he winked. “Enjoying each other and this little bit of time we have.”

~*~*~*~

Sebastian prowled the length of his office, well aware of the uneasiness rippling through Vincent Pellagreeni as the man tracked his every move. His eyes darted over the freshly lacquered floor, searching for any sign of the menacing stains that had saturated the space only hours before. Like so many other things, SKALS had done an excellent job of eradicating any traces of its existence, no matter how minute. He found himself plagued by a brief stab of guilt as he wondered who those men were—if they had families or a scruffy dog anxiously waiting at home. Pushing the unpleasant thoughts aside, he refocused his attention on the task at hand.

“Please tell me you have come up with something,” he stated, strolling around his desk to drop into his seat.

Vince shifted uncomfortably in front of him, his eyes never wavering from the floor. “I got nothing, Baas. Marx is keeping whatever this is under total wraps and on lockdown. He brought in a handful of new recruits after you left. I was assuming it was to replace the guards you killed, but that wasn’t the direction they were headed. He took them on the extended tour of the west wing.”

His eyes narrowed briefly upon hearing that bit of information. The west wing was where new squad members were inducted into SKALS. It also housed a special row of cells used for interrogations and reconditioning. Guards tended to escape a little easier and usually detoured to the right.

“How many were there?” he asked, keeping his tone neutral.

“Six or eight. Maybe more.”

Definitely not guards then. He pinched the bridge of his nose and nodded. “What else aren’t you telling me?”

Vince’s sandy brow furrowed in a show of confusion.

“I read people for a living, Vincent. Stop making me drag things out of you today. My patience is already at a minimum.”

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry. It’s just unnerving and I’m afraid you might find the situation disturbing.”

Sebastian snorted and leaned back in his seat. The chair creaked as it rocked into a gentle recline. “As compared to what exactly?”

“Good point,” Vince muttered. “I came across an invoice issued last week. He’s ordered five more helicopters. All military grade armed with heavy artillery and precision scopes.”

The bottle sitting on the corner of his desk was starting to look more and more appealing. For a moment, he stared at it, tempted to give into its sweet siren’s song. It promised at least a few seconds of relief and mind numbing oblivion. Growling low in the base of his throat, Sebastian tipped his head back and rubbed the underside of his jaw. He really needed to shave. A few more days and he’d be eligible for Grizzly Adams tryouts.

“So he is gearing up.”

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly say he is gearing up, sir.”

“Really?” Sebastian asked. His expression was skeptical, his eyes fierce and probing. “And what would you call it?”

“A few minor purchases?” Vince asked, the uncertainty in his voice making it come across in the tone of a hopeful question.

“When there is nothing wrong with the equipment we have?” Standing, he made his way to the window. His eyes searched the grounds, looking for any subtle changes he may have missed. Seeing nothing but the usual desert, walls, and barbed wire, he turned his attention back to Vince. “No. Marx isn’t one to waste resources or money. He’s starting to prepare. He may be starting out small, but he’s always expanded at a rapid rate. Today it’s a helicopter or two. Next month it’s an army. When SKALS first started out, it was a two-man team. Look what he’s managed to turn that into.”

Vince nodded. His left leg bounced in an uneasy beat. An audible swallow filled the room as he searched for the right things to say.

“We have to stop him,” Sebastian mused to himself. “Now.”

“I know this is none of my business, sir, and it’s certainly not my place to ask, but when are you going to fill the others in?”

Sebastian tilted his head. His eyes narrowed into suspicious slits. “Is the burden becoming too much for you, Agent Pellagreeni?”

The stocky blond shook his head in adamant denial. “No, sir. Not at all. It’s just we can’t do this on our own, and quite honestly, every time I look at Agent Reevers, I feel guilty. It’s almost like I’m sneaking around his back or something.”

The laugh that escaped him was quiet and humorless. “We aren’t lovers, Vincent. Josh is my partner.”

“I know that, sir. That’s why I feel bad. He should be in on these things as well, and I swear to Christ, it’s like the man knows. The looks he’s been giving me lately are far from friendly.”

“He’s not the warm and cuddly sort,” Sebastian quipped, his patience starting to waver. “All those years spent as my partner have sucked the joy right out of him.”

“Understandable, sir.”

Sebastian’s head snapped up. A heavy flush settled over Vince’s cheeks and his pained expression said he immediately wished he could take the words back. Feeling generous, he decided to let the small quip slide with a warning.

“We aren’t here to make friends, Vincent. If that’s what you are looking for I suggest you reevaluate the situation and take a good look around. I’ve discussed my suspicions with Josh before and it’s my impression that he’s not ready to hear how far this has gone. Not yet. When it’s time, I will let him know. We can’t afford to lose him or anyone else for that matter.”

“And if he does switch sides, sir? What then?”

Sebastian’s jaw jutted as he pursed his lips and cocked his head with a grim shake. “Then we are in for one hell of a difficult fight.”

A sullen look crawled over Vince’s face. His eyes darted to the crystal decanter perched on the desk and lingered long enough that Sebastian decided to put the poor man out of his misery. Snaring a tumbler, he poured his teammate a tall one. His expression remained neutral as he slid it across the smooth surface. Engulfing the glass in his hands, Vincent mumbled a quiet word of thanks before downing its contents in a single gulp.

A knock drew both men’s attention. Swiping the back of his hand across his mouth, Vincent turned in his seat as the door swung open. Not waiting for the guard to announce his arrival or his purpose, Josh strode into the room. His steely gaze settled on the man seated across from Sebastian’s desk before narrowing ever so slightly.

He was hard pressed to contain his amusement when Vince swiveled back to face him with a look of blatant suffering.

“Sorry to interrupt your little powwow,” Josh stated dryly, “but Marx is calling a meeting. He’s got some new recruits he’d like to introduce.”

“So I’ve heard,” Sebastian said. “Thank you for your time, Agent Pellagreeni. You’re free to go. Take your reports with you.”

Vince snatched the mock files he’d brought with him off the corner of the desk and scooted past Josh, careful to give the man a wide berth on his way past.

“What’s with him?”

Sebastian shrugged as his partner jutted a thumb toward the door. “He’s under the impression you think we’re having an affair.”

Josh blinked. A stupefied look crawled across his face as he tried to process that claim. “Wait. Do what now?”

“Nothing. It’s not important.”

“Uh…I’d say it’s pretty damn important if the man thinks I’m…” he trailed off with a mute shake of his head. “At least tell me he thinks I’m the top in this relationship.”

Sebastian leveled him with a pointed look.

Snorting, Josh nodded. “Right. I’ll set him straight later. If he needs a little cuddle from you now and then, I’m okay with that as long as it doesn’t cut into our time.”

“Fuck off.”

“See. There’s the Baas we all know and love. How could anyone resist that?” Josh asked, delivering a needling elbow to his side as they started to make their way down the hall toward the conference room. “Speaking of, how’s Tay holding up?”

“She’s fine.”

“Yeah? You don’t embellish much, do you?”

“There’s nothing to tell. She’s got a concussion and she’s a little banged up, but she’ll be fine.”

“Okay. Sorry I asked,” Josh said, his voice taking on a defensive edge. “How about you, Baas? How are you doing?”

“Tired. I haven’t slept worth a damn in two days and this is the last place I want to be.”

“Yeah. I get that,” Josh muttered.

They let the conversation die as they came to a stop outside the conference room doors. Sucking in a deep breath, Sebastian pushed the heavy barriers open and let his gaze roam across the room. A wave of unease rippled through him as he took in the familiar faces of his teammates along with several new ones belonging to men he’d never met. It was bad enough wondering where each man was going to land before. Now Marx had added several new ones to the fray. It was an unsettling feeling to know that might have been the kind of security the director was banking on.

Marx sat at the head of the table with his arms folded and a stern look of impatience stamped across his features. He offered little more than a curt nod of acknowledgement as Sebastian and Josh took their seats.

“Good. Now that we are all here, we can get this meeting underway. As some of you may have heard, our security crew took a few hits yesterday. I will be bringing in replacements for those men soon, but until then things are going to be tight. To compensate for this strain, I’ve limited the number of people we will be allowing in and out of this building. All necessary inquisitions are to be made at one of our desert facilities.”

A quiet rumble of acceptance rose around the table. Marx rocked back in his chair. His thick fingers tented beneath his chin. The heavy silver rings between his knuckles glinted beneath the dim, golden light.

“As of now, we still have no word on Patrick James or his whereabouts. Would someone care to explain to me why that is?”

“It’s not that we haven’t been trying, Marx. The guy is just slippery as shit.”

The director’s dark gaze landed on Josh. “I don’t care about your excuses, Reevers. I want results. That brings me to you, Sebastian. Whatever efforts your team is making, I expect them doubled. I don’t care if that means you are living, breathing, eating, sleeping, and shitting SKALS twenty-four hours a day seven days a week. Track him down and bring him to me.”

Sebastian’s fists knotted beneath the table. More time away from home. Away from Taylor, at a time when she needed him the most. The short crescents of his nails sank deep into his palms. The time for being nice was quickly ending. Patrick James was starting to become more than a minor annoyance in his life. If the man had any brains at all, he would book one of those tickets to Mars people were raffling off and take his ex-wife with him.

“Is that understood, Agent Baas?”

He glanced up. The tone of Marx’s voice clearly indicated this was a repeated question. Pulling himself from his thoughts, he nodded. “You will have him.”

“Let’s hope so,” the director said flatly. “I’m sure you’ve all noticed the new faces joining us today. You can get introductions out of the way later. For now, all you need to know is I am in the process of putting together a second team. After their training, they will be working in tandem with your efforts to locate Mr. James. Perhaps they will find something you gentlemen missed.”

“Poor fuckers,” Josh muttered beneath his breath.

Marx raised a brow in their direction. “Is there something you wish to share with the room, Agent Reevers?”

“No, sir. Not really. I mean, unless they’d like to spend some time with Baas. I’m more than willing to share him with someone else for a while.”

“If you want to keep making jokes, you can spend some time alone in a reconditioning cell. Perhaps that will give you the liberation you need,” Marx retorted.

“Uh…no. No thanks, boss. I’m good.” Lips pressed together in a grim line, he offered a comical farce of a smile to the newcomers seated at the table as he lifted his hands in an open spread. “Welcome to the team, boys. I hope you enjoy your stay as much as we have.”