2. Daisy
Chapter two
Daisy
“If it’s going to be a Christmas wedding, then red or green should be the accent colors,” I say, wondering why Faith isn’t jumping in with suggestions to help plan her own wedding to Jaxon. I may be the maid of honor, but this isn’t really my decision.
“What about blue and silver?” my brother, Owen, fires back. “It’s way classier, just like the bride.”
“Classy is not how I would describe her. Tough. Resilient. A fighter,” I reply. “She needs bold colors.”
“Why don’t you just ask her what she wants?” Jack chimes in. “It’s her wedding, not yours.” Sweet Jack, a former police officer who sees things in black and white. There’s no gray in his world.
Jeremy, ever the voice of reason, suggests, “Make the wedding a rainbow theme. Then everyone is happy and you don’t have to worry about color schemes. Or go black so every color will match.”
“The tuxes will be black for that very reason,” Jaxon says, finally adding his two cents. It is his wedding too, after all. “At least the men are taken care of.” It’s such a “guy” thing to say.
“Praise the Lord for that,” Roger says. “Can we please talk about something else? Like what’s in the crates behind me, or why Jack has a box full of baby hedgehogs?”
“Barb was pregnant when I brought her home,” Jack says. “The babies are old enough now to go to a good home. The senior center down the street has agreed to take them.”
After our last assignment, Barb, also known as Mr. Prickles, was the sole survivor of a cabin that was burned down to nothing but a pile of ashes.
She’d taken quite a liking to Jack, who thought the right thing to do was give her a new home.
He had no idea she was pregnant when he found her hiding under the rubble.
Now they’re weaned and ready to go to good homes.
Faith agrees with Roger. “I, for one, would very much like to know what’s in the boxes.”
“We have a wedding to plan, Faith,” I say exasperated. “The holidays are going to be here before you know it.”
I hear Scott and Grace out in the hallway and make my way over to the door. This meeting can’t really begin until they join us. Chances are, the two are sneaking a quick kiss in the hallway after eloping. Ugh!
With gusto, I open the door and startle the lovebirds. “Are you two done playing the newlyweds and sneaking kisses when no one is looking?” I point toward the camera in the hall. “Big Brother is always watching.”
“We weren’t sneaking kisses. You interrupted us before we could,” Scott says. There’s just the slightest bit of annoyance at my intrusion, but I know he won’t stay mad at me for long. He loves me like the little sister he never had.
“You may as well join us. We’re about to open the crates that were delivered this morning,” I say, gesturing for them to come into the conference room. “Roger has an assignment he wants to discuss.”
Grace opens her soft briefcase and pulls out a thick manila folder. “I have a theory I want to run by you, Daisy—before you take off on your ‘hunting’ trip. It’s a shot in the dark, but you might be able to get ahead of the person who abducted you rather than stay a step behind.”
“You might as well share it with the class since I took your advice and finally told them the story,” I tell her.
I’d kept my abduction a secret from the team.
Trust doesn’t come easily for me. Since Grace is an investigative reporter, I knew she’d keep digging if I didn’t come clean.
It was with her urging that I finally shared everything about my past, including being Sadie Alekseev.
Suffice it to say, Owen also had to come clean about being Natan.
Although it’s been so long since I’ve called him that, it doesn’t sound right to me anymore.
Scott embraces me with a brotherly hug. “It was very brave of you to do so. Every single one of us has your back. You have our full support.”
“Thanks, Scott. That means a lot to me, but this is something I have to do on my own. We can talk about all of this after Roger’s done with his meeting. You know how he gets. Assignments first.”
When we take our seats, it doesn’t escape Scott’s or Grace’s notice that the wall behind Roger is stacked with hard cases of various shapes and sizes. “Roger, did you give your wife the company credit card to buy us presents?” Scott asks.
“We’d be bankrupt in a year if I did,” Roger jokes. “This is a delivery from Noctira as a ‘thank you’ for recovering the schematics and ensuring that the data was safely returned. They also made a sizeable monetary donation to the Southern Knights.”
Our last mission involved a militia group that had gone off the rails in their quest to preserve their Second Amendment rights.
As a sharpshooter, I’m all about gun rights and safety, but not at the expense of taking lives.
It’s hard for me to fathom the extremes that people will go to when pushed into a corner.
Noctira manufactures stealth weaponry and had a set of schematics and some prototype rifles stolen.
When Grace and Scott went undercover, they discovered much more than a theft had occurred.
They uncovered a conspiracy. Thankfully, the end result was minimal casualties, and the couple got their long overdue happily ever after.
“Does that mean we get a raise?” Owen asks, referring to the monetary donations.
“No,” Roger replies. “However, we now have a discretionary fund to use when doing pro bono work. Not every client can afford our services, but that doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t help them.
Until now, all requests for such work have required approval from our parent company.
That’s no longer the case. Thanks to Noctira and a donation from TheoTech. ”
Everyone, including me, looks to Grace for confirmation that Roger isn’t mistaken when he mentions her father’s company she’d inherited and recently sold. As the heiress to TheoTech, surely she would have known about such a sizeable donation.
Grace shrugs. “I sold my shares. If a donation was made, I had nothing to do with it.”
Roger opens the inventory list, reading the contents of the boxes and a letter from Noctira thanking us for recovering stolen plans that would have put our national security at risk. The gift they gave us is nothing short of spectacular. Stealth weapons.
As a sharpshooter with a love of guns, it’s no surprise to anyone that I have questions, especially about the NSR300TLR that’s been digitally modified.
Roger opens one of the cases and takes a few minutes to read over the manual.
His eyes widen as he does. He explains how the prototype weapons use smart ammunition and have been modified to use our non-lethal simunition rounds.
The bullets can change direction after the target has been painted with a laser. Laser-guided bullets! How cool is that?
As Roger continues to list the specs and capabilities, my mouth drops open, stunned by what this could mean. Not only would our team remain virtually silent, but our range to target is increased exponentially.
Scott talks about the pros and cons of such a weapon being used for military purposes. Not all of them are good. But for me? I can already see the benefits.
I smack my hands down on the table. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go test these babies out at the range and then put them into operational use.”
Roger chuckles at my enthusiasm, as does the rest of the team.
“Not so fast. We have much to discuss and assignments to give out,” Roger says, sliding folders to Jack, Owen, and Jaxon.
Over the next few days, Jeremy and Jack are assigned to a protection detail for a business executive arriving to secure a land deal that the public isn’t thrilled about.
Jaxon and Faith will be additional security for a foreign dignitary giving a speech on the weekend.
Owen and Scott will be heading to Lassen Volcanic in Northern California to investigate a hunch.
“What about me?” I ask. “I don’t start my leave for another week. Isn’t there something I can do to stay busy?”
For the past 15 years, I’ve been trying to track down the man who took me. I’m always a day late and a dollar short. By the time the abduction hits the news, the perpetrator is long gone. He’s either holed up in a cave and waiting out the search party, or he’s long since changed his tactics.
Grace slides the thick folder across the table.
“About that. During the five years your abductor remained in hiding, you trained to become one of the best sharpshooters in the country. You learned skills as a civilian that most military personnel—excluding special operators—aren’t equipped with.
Tracking. Survival. Hunting. All so you can catch this guy. ”
“Yeah. Once he makes his move and it’s all over the news, I’ll be on the next flight out,” I reply. “He never strikes before October 1st and never later than the 14th. That gives me time.”
Owen takes my hand in his and gives it a gentle squeeze.
“You’ve always been one step behind him, Daisy.
By the time the abductions made the news, he had a three-day head start in a national park that spans hundreds to thousands of square miles.
We know he kept you in a cave for a week, but we don’t know where he hid the other girls.
He’s good enough that the FBI and the CIA have all but given up. ”
My brows furrow. “What are you saying, Owen? That I should just give up?”
“If I may,” Grace interrupts. “I’ve been combing through that file almost every night looking for anything to stand out, but last night I couldn’t sleep. Something was nagging at me.” Grace continues to explain her theory and talk about the maps with all the locations where an abduction took place.