Kill Shot (21 page)

“Just a minute,” Ethan said. “Let me make
sure I’ve got a good visual here.” Silence reigned for a few
minutes as Ethan messed with the electronic end of things. “Okay,
we’re good to go. I’ve got a complete visual of the back of the
museum. Line of sight ends about a hundred feet out.”

“You’re clear to come back, Grim Reaper. You
haven’t picked up any unusual traffic.” Grace adjusted her view and
panned around Logan, his right hand in the pocket of his business
suit and a briefcase in his other as he joined the pedestrians on
the sidewalk.

“Ghost is on the third floor now,” Jack
reported. “We’ve got a visual of the control room doors and the
painting. It’s an ugly bastard. I can see why Hitler turned to
tyranny.”

“Here we go,” Ethan said. “Ghost just placed
the last sensor. You’ll see the visuals on your screen, Renegade,
as soon as I tap into their system. Circuits are going live
now.”

Grace watched Gabe and the curator both look
up at the ceiling as the lights inside the museum flickered. But no
guards came running out of the control room yelling that they’d
been breached, so she let out the breath she’d been holding.

“And we’re in,” Ethan said smugly. “Told you
they’d work. All monitors are up—stairwells, elevators, bathrooms,
the employee lounge, and all areas of the museum, including the
restricted areas, are visible. Mission accomplished.”

Grace panned through the crowd of faces
outside the museum looking for threats. Something was making her
uneasy, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. But the feeling was
gone the moment she saw the gleam of black curls in the reflection
of her scope. The girl’s scarf had blown around her shoulders, and
a blue bow was tied in her hair. She rested her head on her
mother’s shoulder and tapped chubby fingers to an internal tune
against the woman’s back. The curve of the little girl’s cheek was
so familiar that pain rushed down Grace’s spine and her muscles
seized.

“No,” she moaned, her mouth going dry and
her heart leaping in her chest with hope—just a glimmer of hope
that it might really be Maddie. She didn’t hear the change of her
breathing or the animal cries of pain that escaped from her
throat.

The little girl turned her head, and Grace
saw black eyes instead of Gabe’s clear blue, and her world crashed
around her once again. Her hands shook, and her rifle clattered to
the concrete. She pulled her legs up and hugged her knees as she
tried to get control. She closed her eyes, and images bombarded her
mind, piercing her soul with the accuracy of a well-aimed knife.
The darkness slithered across her body like thick tar and clung to
her without remorse as it suffocated her thoughts and hopes and
dreams.

No, no, no
she screamed over and over
in her mind. It wasn’t her daughter down there hugging another
woman—a woman that didn’t know what true emptiness felt like.
Maddie was gone. Gone forever. Grace’s body felt battered as rage
and pain fought to find something solid to anchor itself to. She
wanted to scream—to lash out—to fight, but she knew she had to keep
it all inside. It was her pain, her loss, and she didn’t want to
share it with anyone.

“Shit, snap out of it, Grace.”

Jack’s voice sounded as if it were coming
from underwater—distorted and slow—the urgency her subconscious
knew should be there diluted by something greater. Her body was
floating, and she thought,
finally
…
this is finally the
end
.

Reality slapped her in the face with a cold
hand, and she sputtered and spit as frigid water rained down on her
face from the showerhead and soaked her to the skin.

Her mind was a jumble of memories, and
Jack’s face became clear as the blackness started to fade. His
mouth was a thin line, and she could see the worry in his eyes. She
could also see the anger. She’d compromised them all—put the entire
team in danger—even though they were only doing a routine
run-through. But Jack had every right to be mad because she’d known
this could happen going into the mission, and she hadn’t shared it
with the team.

“What the
fuck
is going on?” she
heard Ethan yell.

She rolled to her hands and knees and pushed
up slowly, her muscles stiff and protesting. Strings of red hair
hung down her face. She’d lost the wig somewhere. Her teeth
chattered, and the cold wracked her body in spasms.

“I’m in the lobby,” Gabe said in her ear. “I
want everyone offline by the time I get upstairs. We’ll have a team
briefing in a half hour. Everyone meet in the suite. No arguments.
And Ethan, if I find out you’ve patched through to listen in, there
won’t be a box small enough for what’s left of your body to go back
to your mother. Understood?”

“Loud and clear. Dragon is out.”

“Grim Reaper out.”

Grace hauled herself out of the tub and took
the towel Jack offered her. She didn’t look at herself in the
mirror as she dried her face and hair. Her breathing was ragged,
and only sheer force of will kept her legs steady beneath her.

“Grace,” Jack said.

“I can’t Jack. Not yet. I’m sorry.”

She heard him sigh and say, “Oh, baby,” just
before he pulled her into his arms. She was stiff against him
because he wasn’t Gabe, and she knew if she let him comfort her
that she wouldn’t be able to keep her emotions in check.

“I’m okay, Jack,” she said, pushing away.
“It’s my fault. I got distracted. It won’t happen again. I need to
apologize to the team.”

“Yeah, not telling us this could happen is
your fault. And Gabe’s.” His voice was gentle as he handed her a
thick robe to stop her shivers. “But whatever is causing this to
happen isn’t your fault.
Nothing
that happened is your
fault. I don’t have the words for you. I don’t know what to say to
help you. But I know you have to get control over this. Or it’s
going to kill you. And this world needs you, Grace. Whether you
need it or not.”

“Grace,” Gabe said as he came into the
bathroom in a rush.

He didn’t have time to touch her or ask if
she was alright before Jack shoved him into the bedroom. They went
down with a heavy thud against the thick carpet, and she winced
when Jack’s fist connected with Gabe’s ribs. The fight wouldn’t
last long. They never did. Jack was bigger and had more bulk, but
she’d never seen Gabe come out on the losing end of a fight. The
fact that he let Jack land a punch at all meant that he was feeling
some guilt over not letting him know about her sooner.

“You told me to keep a fucking eye on her,”
Jack said. “You didn’t tell me she might collapse and go into a
trance during the middle of a fucking mission. Those are important
details, my friend.”

Gabe only grunted as he dodged Jack’s
fist.

Grace stripped out of her wet clothes and
wrapped the robe around her tighter, keeping her eyes on the two
bodies rolling across the floor. Gabe twisted his position so his
knees were planted in Jack’s sternum, and she knew it wouldn’t be
too much longer.

Clothes that belonged to Piccoult’s mistress
hung neatly in the closet, and she pulled out a pair of designer
jeans and a top that draped open in the back. She had a pair of
strappy heels on her feet and her hair braided by the time Gabe
finally got tired of fighting. He picked Jack up by the front of
his shirt and threw him against the wall.

An obscenely expensive looking glass plate
sculpture shattered against the writing desk it had been hanging
above. Jack and Gabe were both breathing hard, and blood dotted the
corner of Jack’s lip. They stared at each other for a long time,
and she knew they’d worked with each other long enough that words
didn’t have to be spoken for them to have an entire
conversation.

“Grace, I need to talk to you,” Gabe finally
said.

“You can talk to me with the rest of the
team. Your thirty minutes is up.”

“Grace—”

“I don’t want to talk about this now. I
can’t. I’ll apologize to the others. I know they deserve that, but
I don’t feel like being dissected by you right now. Just give me
some time.”

His lips tightened to a thin line, and she
knew if she’d been standing closer he would have grabbed her and
hauled her into the bathroom where they could have some privacy,
but she was already past Jack and into the main sitting room, and
he didn’t have any choice but to follow.

“This is Dragon checking in,” Ethan said
through the com link. “Everyone okay out there?”

“Stand by,” Gabe said. “We’ll wait until
everyone joins us.”

“Grim Reaper back online,” Logan said. “I’m
at the door of your suite.”

Grace took a deep breath and straightened
her shoulders. She’d made a mistake, and she’d face the others like
a big girl. She opened the door for Logan and met his gray eyes as
he walked over the threshold.

Jack and Gabe had come into the room behind
her, and Jack tossed Gabe a beer before he grabbed one for
himself—the hostility gone as if it had never happened. Jack turned
a chair around and straddled it, and Logan stood by the door as if
he was waiting to make a hasty exit. Gabe stared at her a long
moment, and for the first time since she could remember, she
couldn’t read his expression. It was the face of the man she’d been
married to that last year he’d worked for Tussad. The face of a man
who had secrets.

“Is someone going to tell us what’s going
on?” Ethan asked impatiently.

“I want to apol—”

“No,” Gabe said, interrupting her. “This is
my op. My mistake. I’m the one who owes you all an apology.” He
stood with his back to the glass balcony doors that overlooked the
city, his expression grim. “There are personal issues I knew could
come up on this mission, and I knew that Grace might not be able to
make it through the op without her past weighing down on her. This
is my fault, and I take a hundred percent of the responsibility.
And at this point I have to think of the team and the mission.”

Grace’s hands clamped into fists, and
something terrible ripped at her insides. Gabe’s gaze was steady on
hers, as if the others weren’t in the room at all, but he wasn’t
looking at her as he had twenty-four hours ago.

“You’re the best sniper I’ve ever worked
with, Grace, but until you let yourself heal, you’re a danger to
this team. I’m sending you back to headquarters. Once Jack and I
have secured the painting, you and I will talk this through and see
what we need to do. But I can’t take the chance with the rest of
the team.”

Cold fingers of fear licked down her spine.
She’d always chosen to isolate herself—to be alone because she
wanted to. It had always been her decision. Now he was taking that
away from her. And then there was the fact that Gabe had made her
love him again and was pushing her away because things were getting
too hard to deal with.

“And what about all of your promises, Gabe?
You’re the one who wanted me here. I was doing just fine on my
own.”

“You can lie to yourself all you want,
Grace, but that doesn’t change the facts. I brought you here
because I love you, and it’s time for you to stop running. I
brought you here because you need me as much as I need you.”

“And what about Tussad?”

“I’ll deal with Tussad another day. Once
we’re not neck deep in shit in the middle of hostile territory. Did
it ever occur to you that revenge might not be the best option?” he
asked, frustration clouding his voice for the first time. “Because
it’s sure as hell occurred to me. Maybe if you could let go of the
past, you could have a future that didn’t involve you having a
breakdown during the middle of a mission. Maybe you could have a
normal life again.”

“What the fuck is a normal life?” she
yelled, hating the fact that her control was slipping. “You want to
go back to what we had before? Where your entire life was a
constant lie? One you didn’t feel the need to share with me? Can’t
you ever think of anything besides the next mission? When did she
stop mattering to you, Gabe?”

She knew her words were harsh, and she meant
to lash out and cause him pain. It might be childish, but she was
hurting too.

“Jesus, Grace,” Jack said, shaking his head.
“You’re not playing fair.”

“Stay out of this, Jack. Nothing is ever
fair. I know what matters in my life. And I know what I’m living
for. Tussad is mine. And taking him out of this world is worth
spending an eternity in hell. It can’t be much worse than spending
it here on Earth.”

“Listen to me, Grace. If you want to fight,
then we’ll fight. But not here. Not now. Tussad is another issue
and another op. You and I are another issue. I know someone who can
help us when we get back to headquarters. But right now, you need
to do the best thing for the team, and go home.”

Numbness settled over her body, and she
could feel the color fade from her cheeks. She wanted to scream.
She wanted to let free the rage that was pummeling against her
rigid muscles. To release the pain that was seizing her lungs until
every gasp of oxygen felt as if it could be her last.

“Fine,” she finally managed to say. “You’re
the boss.” She turned on her heel and headed to the bedroom to
gather her rifle.

“Grace,” Jack called out. “Don’t do anything
stupid. Just go home and wait for us there.”

She arrowed him with a look that made him
come to his feet and move the chair out of the way.

“I don’t have a home, Jack. I never
did.”

Gabe watched the bedroom door and cursed
himself a thousand ways to Sunday. Would they never have it easy?
What had he done in this life to deserve this?

The others were deadly silent as they
listened to the snick of Grace’s rifle case closing. She came out
of the bedroom as cold and calm as she’d ever been, her wig
straightened and back on her head. Her face was devoid of emotion,
though she was pale as a ghost.