Station Alpha: (Soldiering On #1) (11 page)

Mandy melted. “That’s really sweet. I hope it works out.”

“Same, believe me.”

Duncan stepped closer, and Mandy realised with a start how close he’d come. She hadn’t even seen him move, but there he was, large and intimidating. But her heart was still soft from his obvious affection for Paul, and stupidly she thought that maybe he’d grown a heart of his own.

“Thank you for being in the meeting today. I appreciated your presence.”

Duncan smiled, quick and wicked. “It wasn’t for you. I just didn’t want you to forget anything when telling me about it later.”

Mandy rolled her eyes. Clearly it had been a false alarm. Duncan would never develop any true humanity.

“Well, maybe next time I’ll let you do more than glower like an oversized wolfhound. If you’re lucky.” Her smile was smug.

Amusement lit in his eyes, her dig clearly not having the bite she’d intended. “Why bother, when you are happy enough to do the hard work for me?”

With that he stepped out of the office, the door clicking shut behind him. She could have sworn she heard him laugh as he walked away.

Chapter 13

“What could I possibly know that would interest the Vovks?” Christine asked for the eighth time in the last hour.

Since Duncan had called to tell them the outcome of their meeting with the family, Christine had been pacing back and forth, her mind whirling through possibilities. It had to be related to the Disiks, but how? And why?

“Well, why don’t you go through what you know about them?” Paul sat the file he’d been thumbing through beside him on the couch, patiently giving her his full attention.

“I don’t know anything! I’ve only really met Mr. Disik. And Jimmy, I guess, since he interviewed me.”

“All right, well. This feud has been going back a long time, possibly since Mr. Disik was in charge of the company. So, it might have something to do with him.”

Christine paused, considering that. “But they want information. I wasn’t around back then. Besides, why would years-old information be relevant now? Seems a little farfetched.” She plopped herself down beside him on the couch.

“We simply don’t have all the information. All we know now is that there are two groups of people after you that could both be dangerous. We keep laying low until we figure this out.”

“It’s already been days, and we’ve got next to nothing. All the information we do have is thanks to the efforts of your colleagues. I’m not used to this kind of inaction.”

“Me neither, believe me.”

She stared at the ceiling, the crisp white paint an expanse above her head. Would this be her future? Hiding? Letting other people save her?

Not that she was stupid enough to get in the way of the professionals. But she wanted to help, to be proactive in her own life, and her own rescue. She’d never been a damsel in distress. Not when her parents died when she was 18 and she’d had to learn how to be independent. Not when she’d worked her way through college, staying up for her late shifts and going to every early class. And not when she went out in the working world, setting herself up as a freelancer, and building up a real demand for her services.

“How essential is it that we not leave the safe house?”

Paul made a sound of distress. “Why?”

“You said yourself that we need more information. I’m suggesting that we go out and get it.”

“No.” Paul folded his arms defiantly across his chest. “If you have an idea on how to get more information, then we’ll send someone else.”

“Here’s the thing.” She leaned forward earnestly. “Mr. Disik might be the clue to all this, right?” Paul nodded. “Well, the whole reason I was hired is because he has a whole lot of exactly what we seek at his house: information. I was meant to sort it all, organise it, digitise it, you name it. I haven’t gotten that far into the mess yet, but what we seek might be there.”

“So, Blake can go in and—”

“No, see, here’s the thing. There is a sorting system. I’ve divided it all up into categories ready to be sorted and filed. The stuff that makes sense to me. It would take days for me to explain it. And as far as I know there is no interior security system for you to hack into, so we can’t direct Blake like last night.”

“It’ll be a private residence. Smaller. Harder to break into when someone is there, even if they’re asleep.”

“I actually…think it would be better if we go during the day.”

“Mr. Disik will be okay with you just waltzing in and taking his files?” Christine could tell she was wearing him down, but she had to tread carefully here.

“It sounds horrible to say, but I don’t think he’d notice.”

“You’re taking the risk that he’s going to just be inattentive when you need him to be?” He sounded incredulous.

Christine shook her head. “When I first arrived, he couldn’t remember hiring me. And he never remembered which days I worked. Sometimes he wasn’t even sure who I was.”

“He has dementia?”

“I think an early stage of it.”

Paul stared at her.

“I know it is horrible and callous. But I can just say I am there for work and he won’t question it. He never has done before.”

“Christine…”

“Look, if you think it is absolutely too dangerous, I won’t go. I’m not stupid, and I don’t want to needlessly put myself in danger. But in any other circumstance, I would be the best person for this job. So, if there is a way to make this work, I’d like to try.”

“Duncan would never go for it.”

Christine waited. Paul sighed. “Shit, I can’t deny that I want to get back on the front lines, even for a short while. Duncan doesn’t have to know.”

Christine pressed her hands together, almost bouncing out of her seat.

Paul held up a hand. “Just…we have to be smart about this.”

She nodded and settled back on the couch. Folding her hands in her lap, she gave Paul her most solemn look. Paul didn’t seem convinced.

“All right. We’ll have to mic you up, put a button cam on you, so I can see what you are doing. I’ll monitor it from the car. And I’ll be the getaway driver if anything goes wrong.” He paused. “I’m a little concerned about the lack of external cameras to monitor the situation, but I’ll be outside. Hopefully anyone out to do you harm will just waltz in the front door like you.”

Christine nodded. Made sense so far.

“You’ll have to be careful, because I won’t be able to come in to help you if things go FUBAR.”

“FUBAR?”

“Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition. Pardon the language.”

Christine laughed. “You can say it.”

He smiled in acknowledgement. “Maybe we should get Zack in on this. Unlike Blake, he won’t talk. But he’ll be able to jump inside if things get tough.”

“Zack’s the one you served with, right?”

He grinned, pleased that she’d remembered. “Yeah. He’s a good guy.”

His eyes were bright now, animated at the prospect of doing something important.

“The last thing we will have to consider is that whoever is after you—whether it be the Vovks or an unknown party—will most probably have the house watched.”

“Wait, what?”

“It’s the smart thing to do. They’ll likely have people stationed on all the places you frequent. Just in case. They don’t necessarily know that you have help, or a safe house to hide in.”

She leaned forward to grip his arm. “Does that mean my friends might be in danger?”

“It’s doubtful, but maybe once we complete this side mission, we’ll get Duncan to call them to warn them.”

“I’d appreciate it.”

She realised she was gripping his arm still, her fingers digging into his flesh. “Sorry,” she murmured as she disengaged her grip.

“It’s all right.” He intentionally held her gaze as she sat back. A warmth bloomed in Christine’s stomach at his icy stare. A blush tinted her cheeks. She dropped her eyes, but was drawn to glance back up, unable to look away for long.

She was surprised to find that, with him, she enjoyed being looked at. Watched. Like when all she knew of him was his voice and his gaze through the camera, the idea of his eyes on her caused a tingle of awareness across her skin. It felt tight, like it was readying itself for his touch; for his hands to follow where his eyes hand been.

An answering desire to touch him bubbled up inside her, making her yearn to reach out and run her fingers across his naked skin. It wasn’t only lust, she realised. His smile, his support, his competence, all caused that shimmering sensation within her, like she was growing and changing before his eyes.

She liked him. Beyond whatever attachment had formed with him saving her life, she liked him as a person, as a man.

But it wasn’t time to act upon it yet. The delicious tension between them would have to simmer for a little longer.

“So when do we start?”

Chapter 14

Zack Walker was a large man, seeming to take up the majority of the back seat of the car with a combination of his broad shoulders and intense presence. Burn scars marred the right side of his otherwise-handsome face, and every time either Paul or Christine would look at him, he would adjust his face so that they could see as little of the wound as possible.

He had barely said a word other than a greeting since Paul had picked him up twenty minutes ago, just sat calmly as Paul went over the plan yet again. He did ask one or two intelligent questions, putting Christine’s mind at ease as to his ability and usefulness.

Zack had brought his own personal collection of gadgets with him, as he and Paul had agreed that taking any from the Soldiering On offices would be tantamount to installing a flashing neon sign over their heads for Duncan to see.

Christine was to wear a small button camera, the kind that no one would see unless they were looking real close, and a Bluetooth headset similar to the one she occasionally wore to work anyway. She often made calls while her hands were busy doing other things like sorting files, so Mr. Disik wouldn’t find it strange for her to be talking into the earpiece, seemingly to herself.

As they entered Mr. Disik’s neighbourhood of old Victorian-style homes, Christine directed them towards the old man’s house. They drove up to it, and then sailed right by, continuing on down the street.

“What are you doing?” Christine asked. “That was the house.”

“Just checking there was no one watching the place,” Paul replied. “Zack?”

“Not that I could see,” the other man replied.

Paul grunted as he circled back around. He pulled up a few houses down and let the car idle. Zack got out without being asked and disappeared into a neighbouring yard. Christine watched him go, fascinated by his stealth despite his large size.

“He’ll be back in a moment,” Paul told her. “He’s just reconning the exterior.”

Christine shot him a dry look. “I know. I was there when you went over the plan. Three times.”

Paul’s smile was a little sheepish. “Just being careful,” he told her. He reached into the back seat, pulling one of Zack’s cases towards him. He threw it open, revealing a few gadgets that Christine recognised, and many she didn’t.

“Here’s your earpiece,” Paul told her. He turned it on and handed it to her. Then, he tested it using his own. His voice was crystal clear in her head.

Next was the tiny camera.

“We don’t have time to actually incorporate it properly into your clothes,” he said. “Usually, we’d exchange out the buttons so it’s disguised, and they all match. However, we’ll just have to pin it on and hide it as best we can.”

He reached for her, pushing aside one half of her neckline to get better access, pinning the tiny camera in the folds above the top button, nestled in her cleavage. The back of his hand settled on the top of her breast, skin against naked skin. Maybe he felt her heart kick, because he withdrew his hand with a short intake of breath, dropping the camera.

“Sorry, I didn’t think,” he told her, his voice rough.

“It’s all right,” she murmured, then reached into her bra to retrieve the tiny black device. His eyes riveted on her hands.

“Maybe you should do it,” he said, breathing a little harsher.

“I don’t mind,” she replied. His eyes flickered up to hers, hot and yearning. Though she’d only meant to tease him a little with her words, Christine found herself offering him the device, her eyes locked on his.

He took it, a slight tremor in his hand. He once again pushed aside her collar, this time deliberately trailing his finger across the top of her breast with the lightest of touches. Christine’s breath changed, grew more ragged as his finger moved back and forth along the edge of her bra. His eyes followed the movement, entranced.

His breath was growing more rapid, and Christine’s heartbeat quickened in response. Her own exhalations sounded loud to her own ears.

Paul leaned forward as if pulled to her by a string drawn taut between them. Christine could feel it, too; tugging at her, dragging them closer together. His eyes moved up to hers, paused for a moment, then dropped to her lips. Her tongue darted out, wetting her own in response to his gaze.

The camera was in place but he didn’t move his hand away. Instead, his finger curled into the vee of her shirt, needing next to no pressure to coax her closer. Their lips were barely inches apart, their harsh breaths mingling in the quiet cabin of the car.

The door opened, shattering the intimate spell between them. Both of them instinctively sat back in their seats as Zack slid through the back door.

“Two cameras on the house. Front and back,” he informed them. Paul grunted in reply.

Zack looked between them, his eyes darting back and forth as his cheeks grew increasingly red.

“Want me to go do another circuit?” he asked, unsure.

Paul shook his head. “No, we’re good to go. Let me just test the camera feed.” He opened his laptop, pressed a few buttons, and voila, an off-centre image of Paul’s profile appeared on the screen.

“Yup,” he confirmed. “I’ve got it.”

Zack flicked one last look between them, before he nodded. He turned to Christine. “Ready?”

She nodded, still feeling slightly unsteady. “I’m ready.”

“If you see me, then I’m not doing my job. But I’ll be on comms, so just yell if you need me.” He paused. “Or, if you don’t want to draw attention to yourself, just work the word ‘manicure’ into the conversation, and I’ll come running. Stealthily.”

Christine smiled, as he meant her to, but it was only a small tilt of her lips. Nerves had hit her, and she suddenly wondered why she had ever thought this had been a good idea.

“We can call this off,” Paul murmured, correctly interpreting her hesitation.

“And go back to sitting in the safe house, waiting?” She squared her shoulders. “No, I have to do this.”

Paul searched her eyes for a minute, then nodded. “Okay. Then let’s get to it.”

Zack once again melted out of the car. Christine took a little longer, stepping out into the fading sunlight. Perhaps she should have waited until morning. She didn’t know whether Mr. Disik would notice the light and know that she had arrived at the wrong time of day. She had to hope that whatever was happening with his mind, that she would be able to convince him that everything was normal.

Guilt assailed her, gnawing at her gut as she thought about manipulating sweet Mr. Disik, and using his mental health to her own advantage. Still, she trod forward, towards his home. He’d never know. And whatever she did wouldn’t hurt him. She’d be sure of that.

Resolve hardened, Christine arrived at Mr. Disik’s front door. She let herself in, as she always did. The light inside was dim, making the dark woods of the floor, furniture, and trim seem darker than they did during the day. Dust motes floated in what light remained, streaming through the windows at a low angle.

Mr. Disik’s house was large, old-fashioned, and lived in. Most of the furniture could have been transplanted back 150 years with no one being the wiser. While it wasn’t Christine’s usual style—she liked clean, modern lines—she always felt comfortable in the homey atmosphere.

She plugged her code into the security system—the only modern item in sight. It blinked, acknowledging her entry and then resetting itself for the next time someone entered. It was wired to all possible entry sites—windows as well as doors—and a code needed to be input each time one of those portals opened. Each visitor, too, had their own code.

Christine had been surprised at such a complex system on the home of a man in the early stages of dementia, but it hadn’t caused any problems yet that she knew of.

“Mr. Disik? I’m here.” Her voice echoed through the house. A pause, then a shuffling sounded from the front room and Mr. Disik appeared. His eyes were pleasant as they looked at her, accepting. Christine breathed a sigh of relief.

“Christine? What are you doing here?”

Christine’s heart thudded. “I’m here to work, Mr. Disik.”

He frowned. “It’s that time?”

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

He eyed her, and just for a second Christine thought that he would call her on the lie. Then, his face cleared, and he smiled his simple smile.

“Oh, I must have forgotten. Silly me.”

He turned and wandered back the way he came. Christine let out a sigh of relief.

“I’m through,” she breathed as she made her way through the house. “He didn’t question it.”

“Good,” came Paul’s reply. “But don’t get complacent. In and out as quickly as possible.”

Christine nodded, forgetting he couldn’t see her. She missed having him watching over her, his eyes on her, ready to intervene if needed. Her guardian angel.

She made her way down the hall towards Mr. Disik’s office, where all the files were stored. It was towards the back of the house, near the kitchen, which had an exit to the backyard. At lunch time, Christine often snuck back there to get some fresh air and eat her food away from the musty atmosphere of the study.

She opened the door to her right, hesitating in the doorway.

Mountains of files lined the walls, leaving barely any room to move. The study must have been used for storage for years before she got there, as a thick layer of dust had coated everything when she’d first started.

As she’d sorted the various folders into their larger categories—personal, business, tax, etc—she’d cleaned them and aired out the room. But she’d barely begun looking at the actual contents of the files. As such, while she knew vaguely where things mentioning the Vovks would be, she wasn’t exactly certain in which folder she might find them.

She’d bent the truth slightly when she’d implied she knew where the files would be. But she knew that Paul would never have let her come here if she hadn’t acted confident that she knew what she was doing.

Aware of the camera recording her every move, Christine moved into the room and beelined for the stacks that she’d designated as ‘work’.

“Don’t have your back to the door,” came Paul’s instruction. Without replying, she manoeuvred herself so that the camera in her lapel faced the door.

She flicked through the files on top, looking for any mention of the Vovks. But nothing stood out. There had to be a better way.

She’d sorted the personal files better than the professional ones. She’d needed to start somewhere, and they’d seemed easier to get her head around. Now that she saw the stacks, something niggled at her, so she stepped towards them.

Christine dug around, trying to remember what it was that tweaked the corner of her memory.

She stumbled across a small series of folders, and the prodding memory grew stronger. She’d designated these the ‘Unknown Payments’ files, as they were records of payments either in or out or both but no apparent connections to anything else that she could see.

One was labelled ‘Vovk’.

Christine grabbed it and flicked it open, running her eyes across the pages inside. But nothing jumped out at her. Still, it was a start.

Unwilling to put the folder down, she gravitated back towards the business files. She’d separated out a few marked ‘contracts’, so had a look at those. Some of the files were clearly old; yellowed and crinkled. The font looked like it had been written out with a typewriter.

She hadn’t had a chance to arrange anything by year, but surely there was something—

“We’ve got company.” Zack’s voice came over the line, his calmly spoken words echoing loudly in her mind.

“What? Who?” she whispered.

“I don’t know, but he looks sharp. Could be a Vovk.”

Zack had obviously been filled in about the meeting with the three members of the Vovk family.

“You need to get out,” Paul growled.

Not needing to be told twice, Christine clutched her one file closer to her chest and grabbed a handful of the ones she’d been looking at, hoping to get lucky with them later. She strode towards the door, intending to hurry out before the visitor saw her.

However, as she stepped into the hall, she heard the front door click open. Had she left it unlocked? Or had whoever just entered used a key? They must have had a code, because no alarm went off, unless Mr. Disik had entered it for them.

Either way, it implied friend, not foe.

Christine stepped back into the study before the door fully opened, hiding from sight. She could talk her way around Mr. Disik, but anyone else would not be as easy to manipulate. And if it was a Vovk…? Christine didn’t want to be around to find out.

Thinking fast, she tucked the files into the back waistband of her jeans and pulled her shirt down over them. She peered around the doorjamb, and the sound of male voices drifted her way. All that she could see of the newcomer was his back and sleeve, the rest of him hidden by the wall to the other room. Mr. Disik must have been inside the room, because he was nowhere to be seen.

Heart pounding, Christine carefully stepped into the hall, trying to move toward the kitchen and back door without being spotted. She made it three steps before the floorboard beneath her feet creaked.