Out of the Shadows (Hudson Security #1)

Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

“ W e have a couple different outdoor tactical survival classes. The one we offer to the general public is pretty straightforward—fire, shelter, food.”

“Nope,” Bean said, shaking her head at Bennett Wilson. “There’s nothing straightforward about any of that. I’m going to need you to expound a little, my friend.”

It wasn’t a lie. Strolling next to the man, they couldn’t have been more different. Wilson looked like the stereotypical former military outdoorsman in his black quick-dry short-sleeve top, shitkickers, and olive-green tactical pants with full pockets. On the opposite side of the spectrum, she donned a slouchy black-and-white striped T-shirt, a pair of teal Converse, and her favorite black Lululemon leggings with her phone and ChapStick in the pocket.

When she’d arrived at the Hudson Tactical facility that morning, Wilson had taken one look at her, shaken his head, and muttered something about the half-mile trail loop. Not that she was complaining. Not at all. The last thing she wanted was to go on any sort of multi-mile nature trek with Rambo .

She walked slowly, knowing Wilson was too much of a nice guy to force her to pick up the pace. It wasn’t that her head was hurting or anything, it was that she was—as much as she didn’t want to admit it—terribly, terribly out of shape. Her colleagues were all avid outdoorspeople, so she’d heard about this trailhead and how it split. One way circled the base of the hill, the other went up. Straight freaking up with some switchbacks thrown in.

No, thank you.

“Right, forgot who I was talking to for a second,” Wilson said with a chuckle. “All right, desk jockey. We focus on making fire without matches, creating shelter—including clothing and blankets, if needed—from available materials, locating water, identifying edible plants, making tools to hunt, along with how to hunt and make traps. Also, using materials”—he waved at the forest surrounding them—“for basic first aid supplies. Splints, tourniquets, bandages... That kind of thing.”

She blinked. Holy crap. None of that sounded like a good time. “And the not straightforward class?”

“It’s part of the Hudson Tactical program and geared mostly toward law enforcement types, but we do get a number of search and rescue crews as well. It includes everything I just mentioned, plus more in-depth survival skills.”

“That sounds lovely and all, but...” She made a circular motion with her hand. “I’d like ‘in-depth survival skills’ in regular words, please.”

“We teach various ways of evading capture, escaping a hostile environment should you find yourself captured, defense, and weapon creation.” He glanced around, and a gleam lit his dark eyes. “There are tons of weapons to be had out in nature.”

“You’re talking about booby traps and stuff.”

“Yeah. And stuff.” He shot her a wink. “We also work on firearm safety because this type of environment is different. We do low-light no-light training, but we save that for last.”

She frowned. “Why?”

“Because if they don’t get everything down first, no way in hell are we trusting people with weapons when it’s dark, Simunition rounds or not.” When she tilted her head in confusion, he clarified, “Non-lethal bullets that are basically like paintball rounds.”

She stared at him for a moment, absorbing all the info he’d spewed. “Not going to lie, Wilson. All of that kind of freaks me out. I mean, aside from all the”—she waved her hands in front of her—“stuff. What if someone gets lost during the training?” Because she’d one hundred percent be that person.

He flashed her a grin. “That’s exactly why you should take the class. That way, the stuff and the possibility of getting lost won’t freak you out. You’d be prepared for whatever happens. Also, this entire area is monitored with game cams. All of Hudson Security’s property is fenced in.”

She frowned. “I thought the game cams only monitor the property boundary lines?”

“They used to, but we added a shit ton more a couple months ago. Frazier probably didn’t mention it to you since cyber already monitors the feeds, and you have bigger shit to deal with. Besides, the perimeter security fence has pass-through points.” He chuckled when her frown deepened. “There are areas of the fence that allow wildlife to pass through without injury. With the additional cameras, we no longer have blind spots, and the pass-through points are heavily monitored with giant, obvious cameras. So if anyone ever gets lost on our property or enters without permission, we’d be able to find them. See? Safe. So what do you say? Can I sign you up?”

“Thanks, but desk jockey, remember?” She tapped her chest with her finger. “As pretty as all this nature stuff is, I have zero plans to be hanging out in the great outdoors. I’ll be fine.”

Wilson began walking back toward the trailhead. “Hey, you never know, Bean. What if the helo you’re in goes down?”

She scoffed. “The only chopper I’m in is being driven by Owen?—”

“Flown,” he cut in.

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. But if the helicopter I’m in goes down—with Owen at the helm—then we’ve got much bigger problems than the wilderness. Because we’ll be in tiny, itty-bitty pieces.”

Wilson laughed. “Point to you.”

“Exactly. The only way Hadley Owen—one of only three female Night Stalker pilots our country’s produced—is going down is if a missile or something equally crazy happens.”

“Still, you should try it. It’s actually lots of fun. We have a regular survival class this Saturday you could join. Frazier did say you were going to sign up.”

She knew she was looking at Wilson like he’d grown a second head. She couldn’t help it. “Frazier’s delusional. And so are you if you think?—”

“Hey, that’s just what I was told.” He held up his hands in mock innocence.

Bean’s cell phone rang, and she’d never been more grateful. “Oh, would you look at that! We’re back in cell phone range.”

Wilson shook his head and knocked her on the shoulder.

She chuckled as she answered her phone. “What’s up, Esme?”

“What are you doing? Well, first, how are you feeling?”

“Fine. Except I’ve been banned from the office today and have been relegated to being tortured by Wilson in the forest.”

Wilson scoffed beside her. “We’re barely on the trail. And it wouldn’t be torture if you knew how to navigate the woods properly.”

She rolled her eyes as Esme laughed.

“The man does have a point,” the other woman said. “Do you even own hiking boots, B?”

“You’re breaking up. I can barely hear you,” Bean said, deadpan.

Esme laughed harder and then coughed. Horribly.

Bean winced. “You okay, Es?”

“What are you doing hanging with Wilson?”

It didn’t escape her notice that her friend had avoided answering. But she’d go with it. For now. “I’m looking at Tactical’s outdoor survival classes and giving feedback to the boss from a regular person’s point of view. But the more I hear about the classes, the less I’m inclined to actually do one.”

“It’s a really great class,” Esme said. “You should totally do it.”

“Yeah, but you know me. I’m strictly an indoorsy sort. There’s not much motivation for me to try one out, you know? I mean Wilson’s cute and all, but he’s not that cute.”

“Hey!” the man in question protested as she teasingly elbowed him in the side.

“I’m pretty sure my mishap yesterday freaked out the boss man. I think this is his misguided way of trying to help me find my Zen. Something about the healing power of nature...” Bean scrunched her forehead. “Or was it balance?” She shrugged. “Whatever, I’m plenty balanced already.”

Wilson snorted, and Bean shot him a glare. At the same time, Esme scoffed, “Uh, right .”

“Neither one of you jerks is at all funny,” Bean grumbled .

Esme laughed and broke out into a hacking cough again.

Bean pulled her phone from her ear and held it up, looking at Wilson in concern.

He cringed and called out, “You sound like shit, Esme.”

Bean put the phone back to her ear. “You sound terrible. Are you okay?”

“That’s why I’m calling,” she said, her voice raspy. “I just got off the phone with Frazier and wanted to give you a heads-up. I have a bit of pneumonia and?—”

“A bit of pneumonia?” Bean’s eyes widened. “Holy shit, have you been to the doctor?”

“Yes, Mom.” Esme sighed. “I’ll be down for at least the next couple days, so I’m not going to be able to join Frazier at the charity event on Saturday.”

Tingles of trepidation inched up Bean’s spine. “ And ?”

“And I suggested he take you instead. In fact, I have a delivery scheduled to arrive at the office later today for you. There are a few dress options. I included shoes, jewelry, and all the other accessories. Pick an outfit, and you can be my stand-in.”

Bean closed her eyes, took a deep breath in, counted to ten, and let it out. “Esme, you know what I dislike more than nature?”

“Crowds. I know. But you’ll be fine.” Bean could practically see Esme dismissing her concern with a wave of her hand. “It’s work, just a run-of-the-mill charity event. You don’t even have to go as you . Consider it an undercover thing. You and Frazier have plenty of time to come up with some sort of cover identity and a good backstory. Besides, who else is he going to bring?”

“Uh, how about anyone else?”

“Sorry, but I talked it over with him, and I think you’re the best fit. It’ll be fine.” Esme paused as another round of coughing overtook her. “Now, the delivery is scheduled for this afternoon. I think the black dress would be best, but the light-gray would work as well. I’ve also booked you at the resort for Saturday morning for hair, makeup, and all that primping shit. I’ll email you the detailed schedule once we get off the phone. Once you get a chance to look everything over, let me know if there are any questions.” Bean opened her mouth to protest, but before she could utter a word, Esme started speaking again. “We’ll talk more this afternoon, B. In the meantime, make sure you tell Wilson to take it easy on you. Later.”

Three beeps indicated Esme had hung up, and for a moment, Bean could only stare at her phone. Holy shit. What just happened?

“Damn.” Wilson ran a hand over his jaw. She was pretty sure he was fighting a smile. “Esme’s not our director of logistics for nothing, right?”

She met his gaze. “You said there’s a survival class starting on Saturday, right?”

With a laugh, Wilson patted her back. “You’ll be fine. I’m sure Esme has every contingency covered. And then some.”

Nerves took root in her gut. She’d have a fake identity so she wouldn’t have to be herself. That was good, right? With the nature of her work, it was safest for her to stay in the shadows. And frankly, she enjoyed it there. Always had. But this? This was way out of her comfort zone.

Fancy ballrooms, hobnobbing, and making small talk. It brought back memories she’d rather forget. To a time when she hadn’t been allowed to hide in the shadows, but rather had been paraded like a sideshow act, like the oddity she was. To when she’d constantly tried to pretend to be someone she wasn’t. And failed. Time and time again.

The nerves in her gut bloomed.

In comparison to the charity event, Wilson’s outdoor survival class didn’t sound so bad after all...