The Soldier (Men Who Thrill Book 3) (5 page)

So desperation wasn’t to blame for my reaction to Jordan. But then again, it wasn’t physical attraction either, though I was less certain on that point than I had been an hour ago. Maybe it was the novelty of it all, the newness of being confronted with, for the first time in a very long time, a person who surprised me.

My years under the General had taught me that people were predictable. There were some surprises, of course, variances born of desperation or stupidity, but almost always, people’s motives—and their actions—were easy to discern.

But that was not so with Jordan Casey.

I was no closer to figuring out what motivated her than I had been two days ago. And beyond the fact that the General would not look approvingly on my failure to make progress in the investigation or to present concrete evidence that there was nothing to investigate, there was the looming, almost encompassing question of figuring her out.

As much as my body seemed to be saying otherwise, I liked predictability, routine. It helped make the sometimes tough choices I was confronted with easier, helped remind me that even if I couldn’t see it at any given moment, the ugly, violent things I sometimes did were for the greater good.

But this time was different. If I told the General what I’d found so far, even in this incomplete state, I knew what his order would be. I would have probably made the same one, but after being that close to Jordan, watching the fascinating dichotomy that she seemed to be play out, I couldn’t yet make that call. I needed to know more.

And I would find that out, just as soon as I bought myself a little more time.

Chapter Nine

It was late, well into the night when I arrived at headquarters. But you wouldn’t be able to tell from the bustle in the hallways. Our enemies never slept, so neither did we. And that went all the way to the top. Even at this late hour, the General was cloistered in his office. I went to join him, standing as I always did, straight up, hands clasped behind my back waiting for his questions.

He looked relaxed as always, that golfing-granddad exterior one that I’d gotten accustomed to and which no longer surprised me, but would have shocked the unknowing, his physical carriage completely at odds with the power he wielded and the savagery he sometimes displayed.

“Any updates on this Titan thing?” he asked.

“There could be things, but I’m looking into it and am close to wrapping up,” I said.

“Are there loose threads?”

“There could be.”

“Eliminate them and get back. I don’t want this to be a time suck, so take care of potential problems and get out.”

My heart jumped. I knew exactly what “eliminate” meant. And I wasn’t willing to go there, not yet.

“That may not be necessary.”

He reclined in his chair, his face still impassive, though I knew, as I had before, that he did not like being questioned. Still, he had a relatively open mind and trusted me enough to listen.

“Why wouldn’t it be necessary? What other option is there?”

“I haven’t even figured out if there’s anything of note, and at the very least, no vital information has been compromised. And things are swirling over at Titan right now. It’s probably best to keep a low profile.”

I’d made that up on the fly, but it seemed to placate him.

“Good point. We can’t have them dropping like flies over there. But let me know what, if anything, you find, and be ready to move.”

I nodded. I couldn’t push further, or the General might start pushing back, and what I absolutely didn’t want, at least until I had a better handle on things with Jordan, was him getting antsy and sending someone else in to finish the task.

There was a knock at the door. “Enter,” the General said.

The door opened, and a new guy scurried in. He was youngish, tried to look tough but was just a kid, and may have reminded me of myself before the years had taken their toll.

“Here you are, sir,” he said as he handed over another of the General’s black folders.

“Thank you. That’ll be all.”

The young man nodded and left, closing the door behind him.

“Is the other guy on assignment?” I asked.

“Something like that. He wasn’t working out,” the General said.

“Anything in particular?” I asked.

“I got a bad feeling. What can I say?”

Vague, but more than enough for me to understand what had happened. It was a shame. The old guy might have been a bit too loose for the position, but I never got the feeling that he was anything but loyal, and dedicated to our cause. So what if he tended to talk too much, and didn’t quite have the level of discipline to deal with the General on a day-to-day basis? That didn’t seem like a capital crime to me, but the General obviously disagreed.

“Keep me updated on Titan,” the General said, and then he turned his attention to his folder.

I nodded tightly and then retreated.

As I drove home, I thought about the General’s former assistant. I’d seen dozens like him come and go, some infraction or another leading to their demise. And then, perhaps inevitably, I thought of Jordan. If he had even a hint of what she’d been doing, she would disappear without a trace.

I didn’t want that for her, but if she weren’t careful, I wouldn’t be able to save her.

Chapter Ten

Three days later, as I held the crumpled piece of paper in my hand, I realized that I had been wrong about Jordan. As wrong about her as I had been about anyone before.

I’d thought she was smart, but the paper in my hand proved how mistaken I was. She was foolish, stupid, and may very well die because of it.

I glanced out of that window that I had grown to hate into the parking lot that I had grown to hate even more, and watched her walk to her car as I had those times before. And as I watched, I tried to bite back the bitter disappointment that filled me.

Such a waste.

I’d done horrible things, unspeakable things, things I tried—and failed—to forget. But I’d always done them for a reason, one that I believed in more than anything. And that reason was protecting people like Jordan.

But as I again glanced at the piece of paper, I realized that she wasn’t worth my protection, that she was a part of the problem. It stung. And confused me. I’d gone with my gut, chosen to believe her when she said that she was done, and I had been burned.

And once she explained herself, she’d pay for that error. A fact that, despite everything, saddened me. But what else could I do? Jordan was a stranger, not someone that I trusted, or even believed, but still, I’d given her a chance, and she'd tossed it away.

I took the scenic route to her place, hoping that the few extra moments would help me clamp down the rage that roared through my system. As I approached the door I searched for an answer, but there wasn’t one to be found.

I knocked hard, impatiently, and she opened quickly and let me in.

Her expression shifted to one of concern, genuine-looking worry when she glanced at my face. My rage flew even higher.

“You stupid, foolish woman,” I said, voice hard and cold as little chips of ice. “I gave you every chance. I gave you more than a chance. But you didn’t learn.”

“Will you come in?” she asked, glancing around behind me, I presumed to ensure that no neighbors were around.

I glared at her, and she took a step back. I entered and closed and locked the door behind me. After a deep breath, I turned to face her.

“Don’t fuck with me, Jordan. Not now. I thought we had an understanding.”

“We did. We do,” she said, eyes widening. “I haven’t done anything at all. I promise.”

Her voice wavered over the last word, and that little hint of uncertainty didn’t fit Jordan, not the real Jordan I’d seen.

“Then explain this,” I said, shoving the piece of paper into her hands.

She scanned the page quickly, and her eyes narrowed.

“I have no idea what this is,” she said.

“Back to playing dumb? I know better.”

“No! Seriously, I have nothing to do with this.” She stepped closer to me and held the paper up for my inspection.

“You see this. It says I logged in using my username and password from my own terminal. That’s beyond stupid. It’s suicidal. I would never be that sloppy. Ever.”

She glanced at me, her eyes entreating. “You have to believe me. This was a mistake, or maybe someone is setting me up. I didn’t do this!”

“And what about those times before, the ones you denied having any knowledge of? Was someone setting you up then, too?”

“No,” she said. “I was poking around where I shouldn’t have been, but this wasn’t me.”

“Why would I believe you?” I replied, voice flat, but hope flaring in my chest. It was damned stupid, but I really, really wanted her to be telling the truth.

“I suppose you shouldn’t,” she said.

“Not helping, Jordan,” I said, fixing my gaze on her.

“I mean, I doubt I can say anything to convince you, but I don’t have to. Just look at the evidence. You said yourself I’m not stupid, and despite what people might think when they look at me, I’m not sloppy or lazy either. This,” she gestured at the paper, “is sloppy.”

She looked at me again. “Do you really think I would use my username and password to make a frontal assault on an unauthorized database? That’s practically begging to get caught, and trust me, I’m deeply invested in continuing to live free.”

“You could’ve fooled me,” I said. “You need to come clean, Jordan. Now.”

“I have. I told you, I’m not doing anything,” she said.

“I mean you need to come clean about everything.
Everything.
Starting with why you were so interested in Prescott Tillman’s death.”

She scoffed. “I’m not.”

“So what were you looking for? Secrets? Are you stealing? What, Jordan?” I asked.

She looked almost offended, but then she shook her head. I recognized that expression, knew that she was about to clam up. But I didn’t have time, nor did she, for that matter.

“Jordan, I don’t think you understand. If I’m going to do anything to help you, and whether I will is still to be determined, you need to tell me everything. Now.”

“I just had to know, had to be sure,” she said.

Tears sprang up in her eyes. And for the first time I didn’t see innocence or intelligence or brazenness, none of those things. I only saw vulnerability, and pain. And they made me want to protect her, to make it all better. Which was something that might be beyond my power.

“Tell me,” I said softly.

As I spoke I grabbed her hand with mine, the softness of her skin against my rough palms, the surprising delicacy of them still almost a shock. I led her to her small love seat sofa and sat her down. And then I crouched in front of her.

“I don’t care about Tillman, and I certainly wasn’t stealing. I needed information, still do, and Titan was the best place to start,” she said.

“Go on.”

She looked at me and then quickly looked away. And after deep breath she began. “A little over a year ago, someone who worked at Titan. She…died. They said it was a fire,” she said and tears began to fall.

“Stephanie Sloan?” I said.

“Yes,” she said, glancing at me with surprise on her face. “How did you know?”

“A part of the job. I read up on all of the recent additions and losses to the company,” I said quickly.

“Are you going to come clean if I do?” she asked narrowing her eyes at me.

I was again reminded of who I was dealing with. And what I’d almost inadvertently revealed.

“Your bad behavior has made you paranoid. But that’s beside the point now. You should be more concerned with yourself, and telling me everything so that I might be able to find a way to get you out of this mess.”

She nodded. “Stephanie was my best friend, my only real friend. My family.”

“I’m sorry. I can see that you cared for her deeply. But she died in a fire. What does that have to do with Titan?”

“That’s crap,” she said, and as she spoke she dried her tears and her face turned fierce. “Stephanie didn’t die in a fire. Or if she did, someone put her there.”

“Jordan, you sound insane.”

She laughed bitterly. “I would have agreed with you last year. Something about Stephanie’s death had always nagged at me, but I just let myself think it was grief. But when Tillman turned up dead of his mysterious heart attack. I couldn’t ignore it anymore. Something wasn’t right about it.”

I was nervous now, and impressed by the quality of Jordan’s instincts. But I couldn’t let on what I knew.

“Go ahead,” I said.

“So this fire that Stephanie allegedly died in. She was not alone.”

“A boyfriend?” I asked.

“No, some guy she apparently met at, not coincidentally I suspect, a Titan function. Supposedly they were so caught up in lust that Stephanie went away with him for the weekend. The very first weekend she met him.”

I shrugged. “So what? People do that all the time.”

“But not Stephanie. When I heard about the fire, I was stunned, and for a couple months, I couldn’t do anything. But then one day, I just decided to do a little research. It’s funny because I can’t even remember what made me start, but I went through newspaper archives and looked at the story about the fire. Had a picture of the guy that Stephanie was supposedly with. And his name. I’m a data analyst, so I did what I do.”

If I hadn’t been so seasoned, my heart would be pounding out of my chest, and my face covered in a cold sweat. But I knew the man that Stephanie had been with, and knew that he had left no trace. Still Jordan was tenacious, and there was no telling what she’d found.

“So what did you find?”

“Nothing.”

“Jordan, you’re talking in riddles.”

“Sorry,” she said. “But I researched and everything about this guy was perfectly average. Perfectly average work history, perfectly average driving history. A ticket for hunting without a license. Perfectly average. Perfectly fake.”

“I don’t get it, Jordan,” I said, feigning ignorance.

“No one’s perfectly normal. No one’s life is so neat. That man’s history hit all the right buttons, but it didn’t sit with me.”

I hated myself for what I was about to do, but I didn’t have a choice. I squeezed her hand tight.