The Sparks Broker, page 24
part #2 of S.A.S.S. Series
How had that happened? “Being crowded doesn’t bother her?”
“Mark took care of that. He took care of everything.” Maggie smiled. “You’ll see.” She cranked open the door and slid out of the car.
Kate got out and followed Maggie to the shack. Above the door someone had hand-carved a sign on a two-by-four: Regret.
“What’s the significance of this?” Regret that they’d moved the unit from D.C. most likely. “I have to say, on this round in the battle, points definitely go to Colonel Gray.”
“Colonel Drake was totally frosted,” Maggie confided. “At least, she was at first. But she was better after she saw the sign, and better still when Mark showed her what else he had done.”
“Who did the sign?”
“Mark.” Maggie grinned. “He said if Colonel Gray thought sticking us out here was going to get to any of us, he’d regret it.”
Typical Mark. Making lemonade. He’d done it his whole life.
She and Nathan had, too. Dang it, she missed him. Was she going to think of him all the time for the next three weeks?
More likely, for the next fifty years. “I’m sure looking for something to make me feel better about this place. So far, it’s ranking right down there between pond scum and bottom-of-the-pit scrapings.”
“Keep the faith.” Maggie stepped inside.
Kate followed. It wasn’t any better. The outer shell of the shack. Dirt floor. Rays of light beaming across the floor through the cracks in the wall that the termites hadn’t eaten through, and the holes in the roof. That was it. “Where is everyone?”
“This way.” Maggie walked to the right shack wall and pressed a board more gray and aged than the others.
A split door slid open. “An elevator?”
Maggie nodded, cut her a sly look. “Come on.”
“We work underground?”
“The whole unit is a vault. Surrounded by earth, Kate. Isn’t that cool?”
Kate responded by rote. “Probably about seventy degrees. Once you get below six feet, the temperature is fairly constant.”
Maggie rolled her eyes back in her head. “There’s only one level down.” A chime sounded and the door opened.
Kate stepped out and nearly dropped from shock. Private offices lined the walls. An amazingly well-equipped operations center occupied the east end, and broad doors beyond it marked it as Darcy’s private domain. She could open or close the doors at will, giving herself all the isolation—and company—she wanted. Broad screens covered the common walls. On them were photographs of the FBI’s most wanted, Homeland Security’s high alerts and S.A.S.S.’s watch list.
Kate kept looking, kept seeing new things she’d missed. “We have a full kitchen?”
Maggie giggled. “Yes, and a place to crash, and a living room—complete with a gas fireplace, if you can believe it.”
“I can’t.” She saw Colonel Drake’s office door, situated to the right of the elevator. “I know Colonel Gray didn’t do all this. How’d we get it?”
“Mark Cross.”
Mark. Engaged to Amanda, Kate’s surrogate family, an awesome military lawyer, covert operative and a very good man. He’d made a fortune creating the “Dirty Side Down” computer games that were all the rage—not that he mentioned it. Kate admired only one man as much. Nathan.
Her heart lurched a little. What was he doing now? Did he miss her? Would he really be here in three weeks?
“There’s a catch.”
Wasn’t there always? Kate looked at Maggie. “What?”
“Gray can’t know any of this is here.”
“Excuse me?” Hadn’t he authorized the funding for it? He was the Providence commander, so this was definitely his domain.
“He’ll jerk us out of here and toss us in the swamp, and call it an office, Kate. Gray has to think we’re working out of a pit house.” She motioned to the shack above them.
“It’s empty. That’s not apt to convince him we’re working here, is it?”
“We’ve got a trailer parked behind it. Gray knows the shack is depilated. He hoped Colonel Drake would go running to General Shaw to gripe, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. He thinks we’re all jammed in the trailer, trying to work.” Maggie frowned. “That seems to be sufficient misery to satisfy him.”
“A real charmer, isn’t he?” Gray had a bad case of little/big-man syndrome. That Colonel Drake won S.A.S.S. over him ticked him off enough that he put in his papers to retire. Unfortunately, he couldn’t do it until next fall. So between now and then he was playing the “retired on active duty” jerk, getting his kicks out of making Colonel Drake miserable. The rest of the S.A.S.S. unit was just along for the ride.
“He’s a lovely human being.” Maggie spread her lips in a fake smile that showed every tooth in her mouth.
“So when we know he’s coming, we hit the trailer, right?”
“Right.” Maggie walked on into the main hall. “There’s an alarm.”
If Mark designed it, it was irreverent. “Will I know it when I hear it?”
“Oh, yeah.” Maggie nodded to confirm her claim. “Think bodily function sounds—and be grateful this one carries no scent.”
A huge fart. Kate gave Maggie a wicked grin. “Got it.” Colonel Drake stepped out of her office. “Kate, glad you’re back.”
“Thanks.” If she hadn’t left Nathan behind at the outpost, she’d be glad to be back, too. She set down her gear. So far, Regret was proving interesting.
For some reason, Colonel Drake looked back into her office. “Come on out.”
A man’s voice carried into the hallway. “You sure she isn’t armed?”
Kate thought she recognized the voice, though she couldn’t tag from where. Yet it struck her as both chilling and familiar, and that made her uneasy.
Colonel Drake hiked an eyebrow, silently putting the question to Kate.
Curious, she shook her head that she wasn’t armed—but she had the instinctive warning that, if she was smart, she would be. Definitely wary, she darted a glance at Maggie, who stood stone-faced.
Colonel Drake stepped aside. The man walked out of her office and stopped beside her. “Hello, Kate.”
She was looking into the smiling face of Marcus Sandross.
Kate couldn’t move. She looked at Maggie—still stone-faced—then at Colonel Drake, who looked back at her as if she’d lost her mind.
He’d duped them!
Wild-eyed, Kate attacked, going for his throat, his eyes. “Whoa! Whoa!” Colonel Drake interceded, pulling Kate off him. “He’s on our side!”
Her chest heaving, she stopped throwing lethal jabs and backed off, reaching for her bag to get her gun. “He is not on our side. He was killing people left and right inside the compound!”
Sandross’s face bleached white. He clamped his mouth shut and said nothing.
Kate got her gun in hand and drew down on Sandross. “Don’t move, you psycho.”
Colonel Drake looked from Kate to Sandross, then back to Kate. “What are you talking about?”
“He’s replaced Paul Reese as Thomas Kunz’s second-in-command, Colonel.” She hiked her chin toward him, her chest heaving. “This piece of scum had a reputation inside GRID. He killed people—for nothing. He freaking executed them, Colonel.” She turned a glare on Sandross. “That’s not the way our side operates.”
Coming from behind her, Amanda moved to her side. “Give me the gun, Kate.”
“No way.”
“Kate,” she insisted. “Give me the gun.”
Kate hesitated, but saw in Amanda’s eyes that if he needed killing, she’d gladly do the honors. Knowing she was more objective at the moment, Kate passed her the gun.
Bold, now that the gun was out of her hands, Sandross stepped toward her. “You’re lying.”
Kate went after him again. By this time, Mark and even Darcy had come into the hallway to see what the commotion was about.
Maggie, Mark and Amanda pulled Kate off Sandross and held her to keep her from going after him again.
When things settled down to a quiet roar, Colonel Drake turned to her. “Kate, did you see these executions?”
“No, ma’am, I did not.”
“See?” Sandross grunted. “She’s lying through her teeth.”
“Sandross,” Colonel Drake turned on him. “I strongly suggest you refrain from personal comments for the duration of this conversation, or I will not move to protect you. And I further suggest that you refrain indefinitely from making slanderous remarks you cannot prove. Otherwise, I’m going to write you up and play slice-and-dice with your career. Are we clear on this?”
“Yes, Colonel.” He pinched his lips and clamped his jaw, then slid Kate an icy glare.
“Kate?” The colonel turned to her. “If you didn’t see these executions, then what’s your source?”
“CIA, ma’am. Firsthand report.”
“Gaston?” Sandross guffawed. “You’re going to take the word of a lowlife traitor over mine?”
“He is not a traitor.” Kate went after him again—and this time Mark, Amanda, and Maggie folded their arms and watched her unleash.
After she’d gotten in a few good licks, Mark pulled her off Sandross. “That’s enough, Kate.” He jerked her to his side. “That’s enough.”
She released a shuddered breath, pulled back and forced down the red haze that had blinded her, burying it deep inside. Through the remaining mist, she pointed a finger at Sandross, giving him fair warning. “Say another word against Gaston or call me a liar again, and I’ll shoot you right here. That’s a promise.”
“I did not hear that!” Colonel Drake shouted, her temper and red-spiked hair standing on end. “Say not another word!”
Kate hadn’t seen Sally Drake furious often, but she was ticked to the gills now.
“Mark,” the colonel barked. “Do we have a holding cell in this facility?”
“Yes, ma’am, we do.”
“Put him in it.” She pointed to Sandross. “You’re being held for questioning. Complain once, and I’ll immediately call in the OSI and CIA. You know the consequences.” They all did. Guilty until proven innocent. Military court. Three times stiffer penalties than in a civilian court. He’d be dead before he again saw daylight.
Mark and Amanda led Sandross down the hallway, past Darcy’s office, to the holding cell. Maybe Colonel Drake would let the wretch rot there.
She turned to Kate. “You got this information from Gaston, right?”
“Yes, I did.” Kate chose her words carefully. “Colonel, I thought for a time, too, that Gaston was a traitor, but he wasn’t. He was doing his job, and going to extraordinary lengths to protect Major Forester’s unit and me. He’s no traitor, ma’am. I’d stake my life on that.”
“You did, Kate. And it hasn’t gone unnoticed by me, Secretary Reynolds or the CIA.” Disappointment creased her brow, deepened in the lines in her face. “Why would Sandross turn on us?”
“Money.” Kate shrugged. “It’s always money with GRID.”
“The great seducer,” Maggie added.
Darcy swept back her hair. “Kate is right about this, Colonel. I have substantiating evidence from Gaston, proving it.” She passed a stack of photos to the colonel.
Colonel Drake reviewed them one by one. “Gruesome and brutal,” she mumbled, then looked up at Kate with remnants of the horror she’d seen still in her eyes. “What kind of monster is this guy?”
“One who loves to kill.”
With a heartfelt sigh, she passed the photos back to Darcy. “Get the OSI and CIA on a teleconference ASAP.” They had to figure out how to best play this overtly. S.A.S.S. couldn’t bust Sandross; it didn’t exist. One of the overt agencies would have to step in. Kate didn’t care which one. So long as Sandross ended up busted or dead and stayed that way—which had to be a consideration when dealing with Thomas Kunz—she was fine with it.
“Don’t worry, Kate,” Colonel Drake assured her. “Effective now, he’s permanently out of commission. Obviously he didn’t know you’d be back so early. He was checking out our new Base.”
He’d be neutralized, eliminated. What other choice did the honchos have? If they cut him loose, he’d make a beeline for GRID. If Kunz took him in, he’d expose everything he knew that was classified, and that would kill a lot of good men and women. Americans and others. They had to neutralize him. And Kate didn’t waste a second of her time regretting it.
“Come on.” Maggie clasped Kate’s arm. “Let me show you your new office.”
They walked down the open expanse to the second office on the right. Her name was on the door. Kate smiled. It was the first time since she’d been in covert ops that she’d seen her name on anything tangible. She looked inside. Plush gray carpet, soft blue walls, a gorgeous waterfall painting she loved opposite her desk. “Ooh, nice.” She looked on, and her gaze halted on an oak desk she’d once told Mark she’d wanted but couldn’t afford. “Dang him.”
“He already said for you not to bother. He’s not sending it back.”
Kate smiled. “Vintage Mark.” Something atop her desk caught her eye. It looked like a photo frame. She had no photos on her desk—or anywhere else. “Whose is that?”
“Yours.” Maggie smiled, her eyes twinkling mischief. Kate rounded the desk and looked into the tender eyes of Nathan Forester. He’d signed it, and she tilted her head to read what he’d written. “My love always, Nathan.” Tears sprang to her eyes.
“I told you, Mark,” Amanda said, lingering at the doorway. “No man has that look in his eyes unless he’s looking at a woman he loves—even if he’s only seeing her image in his mind.”
“What are you saying?” Mark looked at his fiancée. “Honey, it’s so simple.” Amanda grinned from ear to ear. “Kate’s in love.”
Kate read the emotions flitting across his face. He didn’t believe it. It wasn’t possible that she’d let anyone get close enough to love. “Don’t start with me. It happened to you.”
“It did.” Worry and hope filled his voice. “So are you saying, it happened to you, too?”
Her ears burned hot. “Get out of here, guys.” She reached for the door to swing it closed. “Go pester some other love-drunk idiot.”
Maggie rocked side to side on her toes. “He pouched it to us and said to keep you alive and in line until he could get here.”
Mark grunted. “If I’d known Sandross was crooked, I’d have told Forester to get his tail over here and handle you himself. You cracked my jaw back there, Kate.”
“I’m sorry.” She gave Mark the halfhearted apology, but her mind was on the photograph. She’d so envied the intimacy implied in Nathan’s eyes toward Emily’s photograph. He’d known Kate needed her own, and had given it to her. God, what a special man.
“He sent you something else, Kate.” About this Maggie didn’t sound so sure. “I wasn’t sure what to do with it, so I put it in the top drawer of your desk.”
“Okay, that’s it. I love you all. I’m glad to be home. Heck of a job on the new facility, Mark. Very thoughtful of you to get me a place and food and to come and get me,” Kate ran through the list. “Now get out.”
Amanda chuckled. “So diplomatic, Kate.”
“Today!” she insisted, eager to see what was in the desk drawer, but not so eager to share it with them until she knew exactly what it was.
It could be a Dear Joan letter, dumping Kate. Maggie hadn’t said it was good. Only that it was in the drawer and she hadn’t known what to do with it. And she hadn’t looked too happy about it, either.
Maggie shut the door, leaving Kate alone in her office. She stared at the desk drawer. Her hands were trembling, her stomach had knots and her chest was so tight she was half afraid a full breath would crack her ribs. “Okay, Kate. Just do it. Just open the drawer and see if he’s dumped you on your backside or if he—”
Her hand froze midair. She couldn’t move. She loved him. He loved and accepted her. What if he, who had been so sure he loved her, realized he didn’t?
Well, would it be the end of the world? Geez, Kate. You’ve lived without love your entire life.
True. She could make her way alone just fine. She was a strong woman. Capable. Complete. She’d never needed a man, and she didn’t need one now.
But she wanted him.
Oh, how she wanted him.
Then open the drawer.
She clasped the knob, squeezed her eyes shut, and pulled.
Screwing up her courage, she opened her eyes and burst into laughter.
Tucked in the drawer was a plastic bag of sand.
Read on for a Sneak Peek of the next S.A.S.S. Unit novel, The Mind Thief.
Sneak Peek: The Mind Thief
Chapter 1
Colonel Sally Drake was not happy.
Seated at her desk, she frowned into the phone. “General Shaw, surely you aren’t suggesting that we disclose the unit to this man. This—” she checked her scrawled notes “—customs agent, Benjamin Kelly?” For national security reasons, less than two hundred people in the world knew her S.A.S.S. Unit existed. The missions and the safety of her operatives required extreme discretion. Those were significant facts for him to remember, and this suggestion violated those facts and elevated risks for both.
“I’m not suggesting it, Colonel,” the general said. “Secretary of Defense Reynolds and I are ordering it.”
Ordering. Shock pumped through her veins. “But, General—”
“Just do it, Sally.” His tone sounded sharp. Evidently, he wasn’t at peace with the order either, and he went on to confirm it. “Look, I know all your objections and ordinarily I’d agree with them. But when you wear a military uniform and the Secretary of Defense and your commanding officer say jump, you jump. You don’t even ask how high. You just follow the order. So, follow the order.”
Sitting in her office chair a thousand miles from the general in his Pentagon office, she leaned forward over her desk and dragged a hand through her short, spiky red hair. She did indeed wear a U.S. military uniform—Air Force—and as much as she hated increasing jeopardy to her unit and especially her operatives, General Shaw was her commanding officer and held authority, so she accepted the edict—if not with grace, with bitter resignation and a great deal of concern.
