Power (The Santini Assassins #1)

8. The Catastrophe

8

THE CATASTROPHE

SIMONE

S imone had spent the last two days trying to forget about Luciano. And she’d failed. Over and over and over again. Thinking about him during the day was bad enough, but he’d managed to slither his way into her dreams. Even there, his charm, charisma, and consummate power kept her anchored to his side and focused on his every damn word.

At just after noon, she pulled open the squeaky door to Rudy’s, stepped inside, and inhaled the familiar aromas of Washington’s favorite greasy spoon. She hadn’t been back in years, but from the looks of things, nothing had changed.

Metal tables, red cushioned chairs. Small, dirty windows that sat high on the walls. She’d been a regular until she’d stopped coming. In a split second, her entire life had forever changed. But here she was, stepping back in time.

Or… maybe I’m walking toward my new life.

Rudy bustled over. “Welcome to Rudy’s.” Then, a smiled brightened his weathered face. “I never forget a pretty face. I forget names?—”

“Red,” she said.

“Yes! Welcome back, Red. It’s been a while. Table for one?”

Movement caught her eye. Jerod—seated at a corner table—was waving his arms. She laughed, then tossed her lunch companion a nod. “My friend’s already here.”

Rudy escorted her. After she sat, he handed her a menu. “I remember you two used to come in pretty regularly. It’s good to see you again. Do you need a minute to order?”

“One Coke, one iced tea, unsweetened,” Jerod said. “Did I remember that right?”

Simone smiled. “You got it. Can you remember what we ate?”

“Of course.” Jerod handed Rudy his menu. “Two burgers, everything on ‘em with a giant fry to share.” Then, he regarded Simone. “How does that sound?”

“Perfect,” she replied.

Rudy grinned. “Be right back with those drinks.”

After collecting her menu, Rudy whizzed off, and Simone took a few seconds to take in the restaurant.

“I don’t think anything has changed,” she said.

“You’ve changed,” he said. “And you broke my heart.”

Simone stared at him. She had no idea he felt that way. “You had a thing?—”

“Wait, that came out wrong. We were good friends, but there was no?—”

“Romance, sparks, sexual chemistry,” Simone said, her thoughts jumping to Luciano. “Then, how did I break your heart?”

“You left law enforcement,” Jerod said. “I’ve been pretty surprised about that. Peter thinks you went undercover, which makes total sense.”

Rudy returned with a chilled tea for her and a soda for Jerod. He set a small plate of lemons on the table between them. “I remembered.”

“I’m impressed, Rudy,” she said.

“You’re the man, Rudy,” Jerod echoed.

Rudy offered a little bow before moving on to the next table.

“Why did you leave, Red?” Jerod asked while squeezing lemon into his drink.

She squeezed two lemon chunks into the chilled tea. “I had an arrest go sideways. It messed me up pretty good.”

“I’m sorry, honey,” Jerod said. “I wish you’d called me. We always shared the stress of our jobs.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t talk to anyone but a therapist,” Simone confided.

“PTSD?” he asked.

While sipping the drink, she nodded.

“Peter is convinced you’re undercover,” Jerod pressed again.

Talk to him . He was a good friend.

“He’s not wrong,” she said, “but it’s not something I talk about.”

ALPHA Operatives were given badges for several federal agencies—FBI, ATF, State, DEA, and DHS, to name a few. Since they couldn’t come clean that they were with ALPHA, they used their aliases when making an arrest, interfacing with other LEOs, or interviewing witnesses.

“We always did keep each other’s secrets,” he said. “Do you remember what you said when you met Alice?”

Alice had been his girlfriend.

“Not really.”

“You didn’t think we were right for each other.”

“Ouch. Sorry.”

“No, I loved it, and wished I’d broken it off sooner. When Alice went out of town for six months, I started man-whoring around.” Jerod shook his head. “Not my proudest moment.”

Simone nodded. “I remember that.”

“You gave me great advice. You said that if I couldn’t be faithful to her, I should break it off and find someone I could be faithful with.” He showed her a photo of his girlfriend. “Becca and I are talking about her moving here so we can be together. I’d love for you to meet her.”

“Where does she live?”

“Atlanta,” he replied. “So, what case were you working that messed you up?”

She leaned forward. “The Bomb Maker.”

His eyebrows jutted up. “Wow. That was my case. How’d you get it?”

Despite the uneasiness in talking about it, she couldn’t help but crack a smile. “Jerod, not even you could work every case.”

“Of all the cases I got assigned, I hated losing that one.”

“It was good you didn’t end up working it. It was a total fail. I left, went into private industry.”

“Whatever happened to The BM?”

She chuckled. “Leave it to you to say something totally inappropriate about one of the worst mass murderers of our time.”

Rudy returned with their food. “Enjoy, my friends.” He set down their plates, put the French Fries and Ketchup between them. “I’ll be back with refills.”

After he left, Jerod asked, “Did The BM get arrested?”

Simone’s stomach lurched as she bit into the greasy burger. Maybe talking about The Bomb Maker wasn’t so smart after all.

“He was never found,” she replied.

“Maybe he blew himself up,” Jerod added.

“Why would you say that?”

“He blows up a bunch of buildings, then just vanishes?” Jerod shook his head. “There was never a manifesto, never even a suspect to question. I’m guessing The BM is dead.”

She glanced around the crowded restaurant.

I can’t talk about this here.

Needing to change the subject, she asked Jerod about his work.

“I oversee all of ATF’s cases and direct field agents in what investigations they should or shouldn’t follow,” Jerod explained. “As much as we want to put the same number of people-hours into everything, we don’t have it.”

“So, your real title is Czar,” Simone said playfully.

“That’s me,” Jerod replied. “Ruler of all things at ATF.”

Their conversation came easy… always did. He talked about his friendship with Peter Hirzog and how Peter had written a great letter of recommendation for his current job.

“I owe him a debt of gratitude,” Jerod said. “It’s great to be back in the DMV, especially connecting with wonderful friends like you.”

She felt the same.

They finished up. Jerod insisted on paying, then suggested they get together again.

“Are you returning to the Bureau?” he asked outside on the sidewalk.

“I don’t think so,” she replied.

“If you change your mind, consider ATF. You’d make a great agent and I would definitely fast-track you for management. You know, paying it forward.”

She thanked him and hurried off. She had four clients she needed to follow up on that afternoon. Two with Secret Service, one with the CIA, and a final check on an employee at the Pentagon.

As the afternoon wore on, her thoughts floated back to Luciano. She missed tailing him, missed staring through her binos at him, and she missed catching glimpses of him as he entered his office building at CityCenter in DC. Just seeing him made her heart flutter.

But their last hookup had ended awkwardly. He’d done the deed, gotten a call, then bolted. Except he’d waited downstairs to ask her out.

He’s hella complicated. Let it go and move on.

Still, she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

It was almost six in the evening when she returned home. She hurried to get the homemade meatballs in the oven before boiling water for pasta. Short on time, she heated a jar of her favorite red sauce on the stovetop. Then, she got busy making Alfredo sauce.

With the broccolini rinsed, she placed it in the steamer. “Broccoli’s tasty little cousin,” she said to herself.

Twenty minutes later, dinner was ready.

Knock-knock. Then, the doorbell chimed.

Simone’s phone buzzed with an incoming text. While pouring the cooked pasta into the colander, she glanced over. It was a text from Luciano.

Can’t stop thinking about you. Dinner Saturday?

Adrenaline powered through her while she hurried to open the front door. After confirming Frederica was outside, she swung open the door.

“Hey, babe. Perfect timing.”

As they walked toward the kitchen, Fred said, “Yeah, mama. Smells goooood!”

Simone eyed the pastry box Fred set on the counter. “Whatcha bring?”

“Six little surprises.” Fred lifted both saucepan lids. “Mmm, red sauce and Alfredo sauce. Homemade?”

“The Alfredo is,” Simone replied. “I got slammed at work. Carrera sent me a bunch of new clients.”

Fred washed her hands, pulled out two plates, got busy setting out silverware.

After filling glasses with water, Simone opened the pastry box. “These look amazing.” Fred had bought six different mini cakes. Red velvet, chocolate, pistachio swirl, tiramisu, white chocolate, and a cheesecake. “We’re going to get fat.”

“We’re not eating them all tonight.”

The next few minutes was a flurry of activity as they filled their plates and sat down at the table.

“Broccolini?” Fred asked as she mixed the Alfredo sauce through the pasta. “Why ruin a perfect meal.”

“It’s good for you.”

Fred held up a stalk and bit into the florets. “I feel like a giant eating a tree.”

Simone laughed.

They lifted their water goblets, clinked glasses. “BFFs forever,” Fred said.

“Amen,” Simone replied.

Simone’s phone buzzed, but she’d left it on the counter. “Meatballs came out pretty good.”

“So good,” Fred echoed. “Did I tell you I have a mission starting at one this morning? Well, actually tomorrow morning.”

“Tell me about it.” Simone forked a piece of meatball into her mouth.

The color drained from her friend’s cheeks and she broke eye contact. “Nah, it’s nothing. Same ‘ol thang.”

Even though Simone was no longer a part of ALPHA, the two friends kept no secrets. Normally, Fred shared details about her missions.

Simone swirled the pasta with red sauce around her fork, slid it into her mouth, and chewed. After swallowing, she eyed Fred, who looked downright uncomfortable, something Simone wasn’t used to seeing.

“What’s going on with you?” Simone asked.

Fred sighed. “I shouldn’t have told you because I don’t want to spin you up.”

“I’m good, really.”

“We got the location of a master bomb maker, but there’s no confirmation it’s him .”

Simone’s heart slammed against her chest. “ Him being The Bomb Maker?”

With her mouth full of food, Fred nodded.

“What do you know?”

“He’s been making explosives for terror cells.”

Simone’s guts knotted, and she set down her fork. “Are you dropping him?”

“We can’t without confirmation it’s him , so we gotta arrest him.”

A growl shot out of her. “If I were there, I’d open fire, ask questions later.”

“Yeah, I hear ya, but we don’t have much to go on.”

“Are the terror cells here or abroad?” Simone asked.

“Both,” Fred explained. “Several shipments of raw materials were tracked to a house in Silver Spring.”

Excitement coursed through Simone. For the first time in a long time, she missed her old life and wished she was going on that mission.

“How many on the team?”

“Six of us.” Fred shot her a smarmy smile. “I got lead.”

“I’m not sure if that makes me feel better or worse,” Simone said.

“Red, we got this. ALPHAs beta-testing bodycams and I’m the guinea pig.”

“Nice.”

Just thinking about The Bomb Maker spun her up in the absolute worst way. While she wanted to tell Fred not to go, she would never. Her friend was a trained ALPHA Op, an excellent markswoman, and she’d be surrounded by other well-qualified people.

“Be careful,” Simone murmured.

“Babe, it’s me,” Fred replied with a cocky smile. “Once he’s arrested, I hope they find evidence it’s The Bomb Maker.”

“He killed thousands, injured so many others, and destroyed too many lives.” Anger made her flush and she chugged down her chilled water.

Fred twirled pasta on her fork. “It’ll be freakin’ awesome to get him off the streets. But I am curious… where’s he been the past five years, and why resurface now?”

“I think about him ghosting every single day. I’ll be sending you good vibes.”

“We’re gonna rock the mission. HQ meeting at one in the morning to review the plan, head out by two, latest. I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know if we got him.”

Simone’s phone buzzed again.

Fred eyed her empty plate. “I want more, but I don’t want to be stuffed. Plus… dessert.” She carried their empty dinner dishes to the sink.

Simone pulled two dessert dishes and two forks.

“Check this out.” Fred held out Simone’s phone. “You’ve got texts from Luciano Santini. Is Mr. Big Bucks interested in my girl?”

Simone read each of his texts.

Sorry I bolted the other night. Can’t stop thinking about you. Dinner Saturday?

Carole Jeans in Tysons?

After dinner, a ride on my yacht or dancing at a private club?

Excitement permeated her entire being. He was pursuing her. Plus, he’d apologized. She had to give him props for that.

Fred chuckled. “You look like you’re in heat.”

“I do not.”

“Your cheeks are flushed.”

“From the spice I added to the red sauce.”

“You’re talking to me ,” Fred said. “I see right through your BS.” She leaned over, read the messages, then grinned at Simone. “Holy hell, mama. He likes you.” She waggled her eyebrows. “You gotta lock this one down.”

Simone laughed. “Lock him down? And that’s coming from Ms. Independent?”

“Lemme tell you something sister… if I had a gorgeous billionaire asking me out, I’d be closing him on the big M.”

“Big M?”

“Marriage, baby. The big ring, the big house, the whole shebang.”

Simone laughed. Hard. “That’s your advice? What if he’s a jerk? Or he’s crazy? Or he’s a workaholic and he’s never around? Wait, he could be a total tool who can’t keep his dick in his pants.”

“With you? Don’t you wanna get boned by your man?”

Simone chuckled. “With other women.”

“I would screw him so often, he wouldn’t even think of doing it with anyone else.”

“I’ll keep your sage advice in mind.” Simone held up a mug. “Coffee before your mission?”

“Full-throttle.”

Simone made Fred a bold java, a decaf for herself.

Fred slid Simone’s phone toward her. “Reply to him.”

“He can wait.”

“Ugh, you’re playing hard to get. You should be all over that.”

Simone shook her head. “Cake now, texting later.”

They selected red velvet and white chocolate, split the mini-cakes in two, and returned to the table with their plates and mugs. The conversation resumed, but Simone couldn’t help but worry about Fred. She hoped this was a different bomb maker and not The Bomb Maker. The last time anyone had tried to arrest him, the mission had gone horribly wrong.

A shiver skirted through her.

As they dug into their delicious desserts, Simone said, “Why don’t you swing by tomorrow night? We can finish off the leftovers and share two more slices of cake?”

Fred offered an encouraging smile. “No worries about the mission. I got this.”

Am I that transparent?

“I invited you over because you’re my friend and I’m sure as hell not eating all those desserts by myself,” Simone said.

“Hey, I’m not gonna say no to having dinner with you, but I’m gonna be fine. Really. It’ll be like every ALPHA mission I’ve ever been on. You’ll see.”

They finished eating. Fred offered to clean up, but Simone ushered her out. After a hug goodbye, she waited on the porch as Fred jumped in her Jeep and drove away.

“Please, Lord, keep her safe,” Simone whispered as she retreated inside.

After cleaning up from dinner, she opened her laptop. Carrera had given her twenty-eight new cases. Before diving in, she thought about going out with Luciano.

Do it. But don’t read anything into it.

With phone in hand, she replied.

Sat works. Club sounds fun. I’ll wear one of my Santini Originals

Seconds later came his reply.

I look forward to seeing you, Simone

So do I.

Then, she thought about Fred’s advice—“You gotta lock this one down”—and chuckled.

“I’m not locking anyone down, most of all Luciano Santini… but he might be just what I need to kickstart my life.”

LUCIANO

Luciano parked in Carrera’s driveway, exited his Range Rover. It was almost two o’clock Wednesday morning and the upscale Alexandria neighborhood was dead quiet. As he made his way toward his cousin’s front door, Sin parked beside him.

He emerged from his black SUV, walked over. Together, they entered the dark house, a light in the kitchen illuminating their way. Luciano spied his cousin in his office, wrangling with temporary blinds.

Carrera eyed them through the glass and opened one of the French doors. “I need to cover this.”

“It’s two in the morning,” Sin said. “No one’s awake.”

“My grandmother sleeps down the hall,” Carrera explained. “She already knows more than she should.” As he taped the paper blind over the glass, Luciano pulled another from the box and attached it to the other door.

Both large displays on Carrera’s wall and the one on his desk were dark.

“When does the stream go live?” Luciano asked.

“As soon as I click in,” Carrera said. “They should be on their way to the target’s house now.”

Rather than relax on the sofa, the men sat in guest chairs. Carrera locked the door. Once he sat, he hopped on his laptop. Seconds later, all three displays lit up.

“Frederica Salgado, longtime ALPHA Op, is lead,” Carrera explained. “We’re watching through her BWV—Body Worn Video.”

“Just the one camera?” Luciano asked.

“Yeah,” Carrera replied. “Livestream only.”

“Is Dakota watching?” Luciano asked.

“Yeah,” Sin replied. “He and Providence are watching from their safe room at home, so the kids don’t wander in.”

“Rebel’s watching at home too,” Carrera said. “Cooper’s with him.”

The men grew silent as the vehicle Frederica was driving came to a stop, the engine went dead. In silence, she exited, walked around to the back hatch and opened it. The three Ops who rode with her pulled on their night goggles. One quick check of their comms before they joined up with the other two Operatives who’d parked next to them.

“We go in together, we come out together,” Frederica said, then paused. “Questions?”

There were none.

“Is everyone up for the mission?” she asked.

One by one, the five Ops confirmed they were.

“This is an arrest-priority mission,” Frederica reminded them. “The suspect lives alone. Doesn’t mean he is alone.”

“If he opens fire?” asked an Op.

“Like we discussed, we return fire,” Frederica said, her voice calm and steady. “Let’s fall in line.”

“They’re at a small neighborhood park two blocks from the target site,” Carrera explained.

Pairing off in twos, they made their way to the street. Down the block the ALPHA SWAT team walked in silent formation.

Frederica signaled, and three of the Ops veered toward the backyard. The street was quiet, the small house dark. The body cam was equipped with the same lens as the night goggles, filling the screen with a greenish hue.

Frederica led two Ops to the front door. She tried the handle. It was unlocked.

“That never happens for me,” Luciano said.

“Same,” Sin added.

“Is the back door locked?” Frederica whispered, the comm catching her words.

They couldn’t hear the response.

“On three,” Frederica said.

She counted them down, and they entered the house. Frederica and her team cleared the first floor. It was empty.

“Report in,” she murmured.

“Copy,” she replied.

“We’re heading upstairs,” Frederica whispered before leading them up the stairs.

Midway, she paused.

Either she heard something or the stairs creaked. Moving with stealth, she led the team to the second floor. There, she directed them to split up, each clearing one of the bedrooms. She went into the room straight ahead, scanned the area.

Someone was lying under the blankets. She approached, pulled off the linens. And stilled.

“It’s a blowup doll,” Frederica muttered. “For the remote team, we’ve got blowup dolls positioned in the basement and in the other beds.”

“Team, the dolls are a set-up.” Frederica hurried out of the bedroom and into the hallway. “Abort, abort, abort! Team, GET OUT!”

Luciano’s guts twisted. “Jesus, no.”

“Ohgod, it’s an ambush,” Carrera said.

A flash of bright white light exploded onto the screen.

KABOOM!!!

Frederica’s camera went dark.

An eerie silence filled the room.

Luciano’s heart dropped.

“Jesus.” Carrera grabbed his phone, made a call. “Rebel?—”

“My team’s suiting up,” Rebel said through the speaker.

Sin also made a call. “Are you watching?” He listened, then said, “Agreed.” He hung up.

Luciano pushed out of his chair, the anger flowing through him. They’d been baited to the house by someone who’d planned to take them out.

“How the hell did he know?” Sin bit out.

“Someone on the inside,” Luciano said. “That’s the only way.”

His thoughts floated to Frederica. Though he’d only just met her, his heart broke for her, for all the Ops and their loved ones.

“Simone,” he murmured.

“First responders are on the way,” Sin said.

“It’s gotta be The Bomb Maker,” Carrera said. “That’s exactly what happened to ALPHA five years ago.”

“ALPHA Ops aren’t safe,” Luciano said.

“No one at ALPHA is,” Carrera replied.

“What a cluster fuck,” Sin bit out. “If we couldn’t find him then, how the hell are we going to now?”

Luciano tapped his fingers on the desk. “We’re smart. We’ll figure it out.”

“We?” Carrera asked. “You’re not law enforcement.”

A smile ghosted Luciano’s face. “How perfect is that? He won’t see me coming, but he’ll feel my wrath when I find him.” After a beat, he continued. “If this is The Bomb Maker, we can’t feed his ego. That will only fuel him.”

“Good point,” Carrera said. “What are you thinking?”

“Sin runs damage control with the media.” Luciano regarded Sin. “Tell them a gas leak caused the explosion.”

“Aren’t we putting the public at risk?” Sin asked.

“We’re trying to stave mass chaos,” Luciano insisted. “And we can’t give him the satisfaction of being the center of attention. The media will go berserk with this story. They’ll dig into his past and that will spread to every city in the country.”

“He’s got a point,” Carrera agreed.

“The Bomb Maker is excellent at his job,” Luciano continued, “and he knew ALPHA was coming to arrest him, so he’s got an inside track?—”

“That makes him even more dangerous,” Sin said.

“Right now, he’d got all the power,” Luciano bit out. “Once I get a handle on this, I’ll take that away.”

Carrera nodded. “If there’s anyone who can take the power?—”

Sin’s lips split into a smile. “It’s Luciano.”

Knock-knock.

Luciano opened the French door.

Slash stood there, dressed in camo, her Glock in the shoulder holster, her helmet in her hand, her go-bag over her shoulder. “Rebel called the team. I’m out.”

Carrera pushed past him. “Be safe.”

“Do you think they’re alive?” Luciano asked.

“We won’t know until we get there,” Slash replied before tossing a nod at Luciano and Sin. “This is a cluster.” She regarded all three men. “Fix this.”

She kissed her husband goodbye before bolting toward the garage as Elsa loomed into view.

His grandmother was small in stature, but height mattered not to the strong-willed Elsa Santini. With her hands on her hips, and dressed in what looked like a bathrobe from the 70s, she smiled up at him.

“What’s going on?” Elsa asked. “Where is Amanda May going in the middle of the night?”

“She’s got a rescue mission,” Carrera replied.

Luciano stepped into the hall.

“Lulu! What a wonderful surprise.” Elsa hugged him and he held her close. If there was anyone in the world he adored, it was her.

“Elsa, what are you doing up?” Luciano asked.

“I heard voices.” She peeked around him. “Sinclair, is that you?”

Sin slid his phone in his pocket and joined them.

“Good to see you, Elsa,” Sin said. “Is your robe a Santini Original?”

“No,” Elsa replied. “Lulu hasn’t created anything like this.”

“That’s an idea. Bring the past into the present,” Luciano said, but his thoughts jumped to Frederica and the five others who probably just died, and a thirst for revenge overtook his tortured soul.

Elsa broke from him, padded toward the kitchen. “I’ll make coffee,” she called, over her shoulder.

“I’m gonna take off and get a jump on the media,” Sin said. “So, we’re going with house explosion, but what about ALPHA’s Rescue team at the scene?”

“Rebel’s got it covered,” Carrera explained.

Sin’s phone buzzed with an incoming text. “Dakota’s headed to the explosion site.”

After Sin left, Luciano asked Carrera, “Can you do something for me?”

“Name it,” Carrera replied.

“Simone and Frederica are best friends,” Luciano said. “She needs to hear about this from you and Slash.”

Carrera squeezed Luciano’s shoulder. “You got it. We’ll tell her today.”

“Let’s go check in with the real boss,” Luciano said.

The cousins walked into the kitchen.

“Why are you here, Lulu?” Elsa asked. “What’s going on?”

Luciano shifted his attention from his grandmother to Carrera, then back to Elsa. “Why can’t I have coffee with my family?”

“In the middle of the night?” Elsa swatted his arm. “Please be safe.”

“When has playing it safe ever gotten me anywhere?” he asked.

Carrera’s phone rang. He answered, took if off speaker. After a brief conversation, he hung up. “ALPHA missions have been suspended until further notice.”

“Like I said, he won’t see me coming,” Luciano bit out. “But he’ll know I’m there when I play my hand.”

SIMONE

At six-thirty in the morning, Simone stopped peddling her stationary bike, closed the training app, and stepped off. She completed a few reps with her hand weights before making her way upstairs. After a quick shower, she dressed in yoga pants and an oversized shirt.

She’d take the morning to familiarize herself with the new cases Carrera had dropped into her ALPHA inbox, then spend the afternoon tailing her existing clients. She had three reports to finalize that evening before she uploaded her findings into the portal for Carrera to review.

I gotta text Slash about target practice.

She pulled the box of cereal from her cupboard, pausing to eye the box of mini cakes stashed on the counter.

Don’t do it.

Ignoring her warning, she opened the lid and stared at the desserts.

“Not for breakfast.”

Guilt whizzed through her and she closed the lid. What kind of a friend am I? Fred brought these to share and I’m thinking about scarfing them down. Shame on you Simone Redding.

She poured cereal into a bowl, dropped in a handful of almonds and a heaping spoonful of raw sunflower seeds, added some blueberries, then milk. With her bowl in hand, she ate at her small kitchen island.

She had a lot of work to do on her newest targets before she could start tailing them. Most were LEOs, several were military. Two were being considered for Secret Service, a few for the Bureau, one for ALPHA. Rebel was considering an ALPHA Op for his BLACK OPS rescue team. A civilian being was being considered for a presidential appointment. After logging into ALPHA, she reviewed their files, requested background checks on them, and started mapping out a strategy. Some of the gigs were short—two weeks—while others were a month or longer. The next two hours were a blur of work.

At just before nine, her phone rang. It was Slash.

“Hey, babe,” Simone answered. “Are you calling about target practice?”

“Carrera and I are in your neighborhood. Any chance you’re home?”

Slash’s tight voice caught Simone’s ear. “I’m here.”

“Be there shortly.” The line went dead.

Simone closed her laptop, made her way to the front door. She stepped into the chilly October morning. A black SUV drove down the street and parked in front of her house. Every ALPHA Op drove a bullet-proof vehicle.

They made their way up the driveway.

As they got closer, she said to Carrera, “You work for the Bureau. How’d you wrangle an SUV?”

Slash’s smile was tight. “It’s my SUV.”

Simone slid her gaze from her to Carrera.

He mustered a rueful smile. “Thanks for letting us swing by.”

Simone retreated inside, held the door open for them. “I just made a pot of coffee.”

Silence as she poured the coffee, handed them each a mug. When they sat at her kitchen table, she couldn’t miss the angst in Slash’s eyes.

“I was just reviewing the new accounts you gave me, Carrera.”

“Those’ll keep you plenty busy,” he said.

“There was a mission this morning,” Slash began.

Simone’s stomach dropped. Though she wasn’t supposed to know, she did. “Ohgod, Frederica.”

Slash shuddered in a breath. “There was an explosion.”

Everything went into slow motion. Deafening silence thundered in Simone’s ears. The pit in her stomach turned into a boulder, the tightness in her chest made breathing impossible.

“Please, no,” she whimpered.

“I’m sorry,” Carrera said.

Excruciating agony ripped through her soul. A wail exploded out of her, then a searing pain sliced through her heart. She collapsed on the table, like a ton of bricks, unable to move. Her arms and legs nothing more than dead weights.

“Breathe,” Slash said as she grabbed Simone.

Then, she heard Slash and Carrera talking, but she couldn’t understand them. Little yellow stars were closing in. They guided her into the family room, helped her lay down on the carpet. A numbness came over her, yet she’d broken into a cold sweat. And she couldn’t stop shaking.

She had so many questions, yet she couldn’t speak, too overwhelmed with shock.

Carrera left the room, returning with a glass of water and an icepack. On auto-pilot, she took a few sips. Slash pressed the frozen block against her forehead for a few seconds. The tiny yellow stars faded away, leaving only the harshest of realities.

Fred was gone.

“How many?” she whispered.

“All six,” Carrera replied.

The fury and loss powered into her like a freight train. Heat and freezing cold whipped through her bones. She thought she was going to pass out again. Sucking down a breath, she pressed the ice pack to her chest. The cold chilled her skin until it started hurting. She set the pack on the carpet, then forced herself to sit up.

Slash left, returning a few seconds later with a paper towel. She wrapped the cold pack and offered it to Simone. Simone took it, pressed it to her cheek.

“Was it The Bomb Maker?” Simone asked, the feeling returning to her limbs.

“We don’t know,” Carrera said.

Flashes of scenes from five years ago sped through her mind like a living nightmare. A blinding bright light, a monumental explosion. Five dead, one survivor. The images still so fresh, it was as if no time had passed at all.

“We want you to stay with us for a few days,” Slash said.

Simone stared at Slash for the longest time. Slash ran a comforting hand down her arm, clasped her hand. “We got you.”

Tears pricked Simone’s eyes. She hated showing weakness, but she couldn’t stop them. They flowed down her cheeks, and she wiped them away.

Grief constricted her throat. She didn’t want her new boss to see her this way. It was unprofessional. Forcing herself up, she excused herself to the powder room. There, she blew her nose, forced down the mountain of sorrow that threatened to burst from the depths of her soul. She would cry later, when she was alone.

Knock-knock.

She cleared her throat, wiped her wet eyes and tear-streaked cheeks, then opened the door. Slash pulled her in for a hug. “You aren’t going through this alone.”

The warmth from Slash’s embrace triggered an overwhelming tightness in her heart, like her soul had been shattered into a million pieces. She hugged Slash, grateful for her friendship.

“Carrera’s gonna take off and give us a little time,” Slash said. “I can drive your SUV over to our house after you pack.”

“I can’t intrude,” Simone pushed back. “I’m fine here.”

Slash led her into the kitchen. Simone eyed the box of cakes—the ones she was going to devour with Frederica that evening.

Ohmygod, no. No, this can’t be happening. She’s going to walk through that door and everything’s going to be okay.

Despair was destroying her as she chugged in a shaky breath.

Carrera gave her a hug. “I’ll see you back at the house later.” Then, he dropped a light kiss on Slash’s lips. “I’m heading to ALPHA.”

“Wait,” Simone said to him. “What are you going to do about this?”

“We’re going to annihilate him,” Carrera bit out before he let himself out.

After the front door closed, Simone asked, “What more can you tell me?”

Though still numb, and in shock, she needed to hear everything. Sitting next to Slash at the kitchen table, she steeled her spine. “Frederica confided that she was wearing a body cam. Did you see what happened?”

“No,” Slash replied. “I was sleeping, but Carrera watched. He said there were decoys in the beds. They looked like mannequins, but Frederica reported in that they were blowup dolls. She realized it was a trap, but too late.”

Simone choked back a sob while her heart squeezed so hard, she rubbed her chest. “Ohgod. It must’ve been so terrifying for them. “Where’s Frederica? Where are the other Ops?”

“Providence is handling everything.”

Simone couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She needed to wake up from this horrific nightmare. More tears clouded her eyes, the loss impossible to comprehend.

“I need to confide in you,” Slash began. “There might be a mole in ALPHA. How else would the bomber know the team was coming to his house?”

“Frederica said someone had been providing explosives to terror cells. Do you know which group?”

“No,” Slash replied. “ALPHA got a hit when shipments of raw materials were tracked to a house in Silver Spring.”

“If it’s the Haqazzii terror cell, it’s The Bomb Maker.” A fury long buried burbled to the surface. “He’s in tight with that group, but he would have had to turn someone at ALPHA in order to learn about the mission.” Simone shook her head. “I’m having a hard time believing someone at ALPHA could be turned…”

“Come back to ALPHA,” Slash said.

“What?”

“You can’t help if you’re a watcher,” Slash insisted. “You won’t get access to the case.”

“I don’t know…”

Slash stood, offered an encouraging smile. “Baby steps. Let’s get you packed and over to our house.”

“I don’t?—”

“Carrera knows a lot more than I do.”

I won’t learn anything here.

Do it. Do it for Fred.

Simone stood on wobbly knees.

“You’ve been working solo for a while now,” Slash continued. “I remember when you were at ALPHA, I used to call you kick-ass Red.”

“Feels like a lifetime ago.”

“I remember how wrecked you were when you left,” Slash said. “I begged you to stay, but you had to go into hiding?—”

“Luther and Z were worried The Bomb Maker knew I’d survived.”

“Well, if The Bomb Maker is back, don’t you want to be the one to eliminate him?”

The hatred, revenge, and fury she’d pushed down came roaring out of her so hard, she staggered backward.

“Whoa,” Slash said grabbing her arm. “Let’s sit down.”

“I’m okay,” Simone said. “You’re right, if anyone is driven to drop that son of a bitch, it’s me. He stole my life.”

“Ready to take it back?”

A determination she hadn’t felt in years burst through her. In spite of the pain, she felt energized, she felt alive. She needed to do this… for herself. More than that, she needed to do this for the ALPHA Ops he killed and the havoc he wreaked on a country she deeply loved.

An unexpected streak of confidence raced through her. “Yes. I. Am.”

“Hell, yeah!” Slash exclaimed.

Twenty-minutes later, Simone’s suitcase was packed, and the women hurried out. Slash loaded the suitcase into Simone’s SUV and got behind the wheel.

“Thank you,” Simone said.

“I got you,” Slash replied.

Five years ago, she’d been forced into hiding. She’d walked away from a career she loved in order to stay safe… and to heal. Though she’d been cleared to return to work months ago, she’d stayed in the shadows, watching others live their best lives.

Fred had died doing something she loved. Simone owed her friend—and the other victims—her absolute best. And her best was returning to a job she was good at—damn good at—and hunting down a monster who’d risen from the dead.

For you, Fred.

I’m doing this for you.