27. Savannah
That afternoon, I stood inside one of HEAT’s large panel vans and adjusted the jacket of the one business suit I’d packed. The outfit was more dressy than what I would normally wear to work on a Friday afternoon, but nothing else I had brought along seemed suitable, and I didn’t need the distraction of wearing borrowed clothes.
Ben was worried about me. I felt his intense gaze on me as Pasco fitted me with a nearly invisible communications earpiece. Bond, as we called her now that we were on an operation, adjusted a dainty gold watch on my wrist and explained its capabilities. Despite the delicate look of it, it was capable of monitoring every vital function plus ambient conditions and noises.
“It can also detect airborne toxins,” Pasco added, “like potential chemical and biological threats.
Ben scowled at him. “There’s no way she’ll need that functionality, and you’ll scare her. Hell, you’re scaring me.”
“Sorry,” Pasco apologized to me, “that he’s such a pain in the ass.”
I smiled, which was probably his intention, so Ben only shot him a murderous look and didn’t throttle him.
“Now,” Pasco said, “as far as the earpiece goes, you’ll mostly hear my voice, maybe Kat’s or Bond’s if necessary, but we’ll keep your channel as clear as possible so our chatter doesn’t distract you.”
“And I’ll relay any information you need that affects us once we’re inside the building,” Ryan said.
There was a knock on the back door. Ben pushed it open, and Kat climbed inside, followed by Logan. They, along with Bond and Pasco, would monitor the four of us who would be on the ground.
Ben hopped out of the van and helped me step down to the cement floor of the secluded parking garage, where Kyle waited for us. If I hadn’t been surrounded by multiple armed agents, I wouldn’t have spent five seconds in the creepy place.
Ryan came out after me. The three men did a gear check. Kyle and Ben were both dressed in dark gray pants and jackets that hid all manner of climbing gear, Tasers, and tranquilizer guns. Watching Ben, I understood why, when I’d found him in the airport, he’d been even more intense and laser-focused than he had been seven years ago. He was in his element when he was on an active mission, and it was a thing of beauty. Despite my nerves over the task at hand, my lady bits melted as his big, firm hands tugged at his holster.
Ryan nudged my shoulder. “Hey, Savannah, I get it. Your boy gives good game face, but it’s time to switch focus.”
They had finished their checks and were all staring at me.
I cleared my throat. “I’m ready,” I said. It wasn’t completely true, but we had a schedule to keep. Besides, the sooner we started, the sooner our mission would be over.
Ben put his arm around my shoulder and spoke to Ryan. “The real question is, are you ready?”
Ryan’s smile widened. “Born that way, mate.”
“Seriously,” Ben pressed, “you’ve got this?”
“Yeah, because you’re normally a laugh-riot.” Ryan punched Ben’s shoulder. “I’ve got this.”
Ben nodded. “Remember, I know eight ways to kill a man, and those are just the ones that don’t involve weapons.”
Ryan shook his head as he and Kyle stepped a few feet away to give us a moment of privacy.
Ben pulled me into a hug and whispered. “Don’t worry. He’s almost as good as he thinks he is.”
“The reason I’m not worried is because you’ll be watching out for me.”
He squeezed me tighter, then released me and nodded. We were ready.
Ryan pressed his ear to turn on his comms. “Hayes and Bloom engaging.”
Ben and Kyle bumped fists and said, “Rangers lead the way.” They speed-walked to the parking garage exit and turned in opposite directions. Ben would take up a position at a security camera blind spot outside the office building, and Kyle would set up with scopes and monitoring equipment on a rooftop a block away.
After what seemed like an eternity, Ryan nodded. “They’re in position,” he told me.
He pulled a pair of glasses out of his shirt pocket and slid them on, then shouldered his backpack with a laptop in it. With his khaki pants and black polo, he looked like he would fit right in with our IT department at California headquarters, which was his cover. “Command, Wheeler and Lindstrom engaging.”
It took us five minutes to walk to the office building. We kept a couple of feet of distance between us and chatted amiably, like colleagues would. He was setting me at ease, helping me put on my own game face. When we reached the edge of the narrow, three-story, red-brick building, we stopped so the HEAT team could make final preparations. I only half listened to Ryan’s and Pasco’s contributions as I surveyed this pleasant suburban tree-lined block.
I’d been so proud of setting up an East Coast office fifteen minutes from my mom’s apartment. Within the first month, I had rented the small space, which was the right half of a converted townhome. On the first floor was a reception area and the employee kitchen. Our server room and IT desks took up the second floor. The top floor contained three small offices and a conference room, where I used to set up my workstation during the months I lived here.
By the end of my second month in town, I’d hired a two-person IT staff and an admin/receptionist. I’d added a three-person sales and marketing team the month after that. We’d needed to expand our sales and marketing operation for a while, and I made the case to Devlin that it made sense to have a team on the East Coast. And compared to the price of Silicon Valley-adjacent office space, the rent on this building couldn’t be beat. But if I could stop Devlin and staunch the bleeding of our finances, this satellite office would be the first item on the list of cuts.
“Wheeler,” Pasco’s voice came over the comms unit, “I’m in control of the building security cameras, locks, and elevator. You’re good to go.”
“Roger that.” Ryan stepped back onto the sidewalk, and I joined him.
We walked the last few feet to the building entrance, where the automated door swung open to greet us. I stepped inside, let my eyes adjust to the lower light, and smiled at the receptionist. And I froze.