Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
If tension could kill, Ellis would be dead. Crushed by the sheer weight of it suffocating the interior of the Jeep as Colt wove through the streets toward McCormick’s private storage depot.
She hadn’t told him that’s where they were going. Hadn’t given him any details other than the address. He’d looked it up on the GPS, frowned then started the vehicle and joined the evening traffic.
And he hadn’t spoken a word since.
It didn’t take her operative skills to know he was edgy.
Worried. Not about himself. Over a dozen years in the Army—a decade of that with Delta Force—had bled out any form of self-preservation.
He went into every op fully expecting to die for the cause.
And she knew the same applied here, whether it was a conscious thought or not. It was simply ingrained in him.
Which meant the white knuckles. The slashes of red on his cheeks. The narrowed sideways glances and occasional huffed breaths were because of her. He was worried she’d get hurt. That he’d somehow fail her.
Correction. Fail her, again.
That part was on her. On how she’d handled her reaction to the note. Throwing the blame back at him when she’d known that it would have taken something extremely damning to make him bolt. Accept her departure without a word.
And she’d been right. That letter…
The words still haunted her. The outraged tone.
The accusations. But more than that, she couldn’t erase the look on his face.
His wide, tortured eyes. Grim mouth. The deep groves across his forehead.
He’d been shocked. Horrified. Then overwhelmed with guilt.
And something had shifted inside her. Like a lock tumbling over. Setting her free.
She’d been seeing the entire situation in a different light, since. Had realized that it had cost him just as much. That his wounds ran just as deep.
Not that the knowledge was much help. Brett wasn’t easily swayed. Simple words weren’t going to ease his conscience. He needed actions. Redemption by saving her ass a few more times. Chances he’d most likely get because what she had in mind…
It was borderline suicidal. But necessary.
She glanced at her hand. That chip. Brett was right.
She suspected it was from a motherboard.
Specifically, the missile guidance systems she’d acquired on her last mission—the ones the assholes kept asking her about.
No way that was a coincidence. But every scenario that sprang to mind made her head spin.
Because they were all bad. Epically bad.
His hand landed on her thigh. She glanced over at him, inhaling sharply.
The man was stunning. His golden hair gleaming in the setting sun—highlighting streaks of copper and platinum.
Blue eyes bright. Focused on her. His skin had taken on a more bronze tone—a trick of the red hues streaking the horizon.
He smiled, and her stomach dropped. Christ. “We’re here.”
She blinked, more than once to get her eyes to adjust to her surroundings, instead of him.
He’d pulled up a block away, the top of the building rising above the surrounding stores.
It wasn’t prime downtown. More of an industrial park on the edge of the south side.
Definitely not the kind of place you’d suspect to house a top-secret facility.
But that’s how McCormick rolled. Hiding in plain sight.
Colt glanced at the area then back to her. “Can you tell me where we are, now? Or does this need-to-know bullshit still only involve you?”
Ellis sighed. Looks as if it wasn’t just concern but a healthy dose of anger. Not that she blamed him. She’d expected a high degree of faith, so far. “You’re not going to like it.”
“Figured as much when you gave me the silent treatment.”
“It’s a storage facility.”
A clench of his jaw followed by a long rough exhalation. “Let me guess? CIA?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“What the hell does that mean?” He stared at her, eyes gradually narrowing. “Oh no. No, no no. You didn’t…”
“I know it’s not an ideal situation—”
“Ideal? Are you freaking high? Because if my suspicions are correct, this is Roger McCormick’s covert storage facility. The one he’s hiding from the CIA.”
She held out her hand with the small black chip. “I need to know if this came from inside.”
“So, we’re going to what? Waltz in there and ask?” He tightened one hand around the steering wheel, surprising her when it didn’t crack beneath the strain. “Christ, El. Do you know the level of security he’ll have inside?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. Been here a number of times. There’re cameras covering the perimeter.
CCTV throughout the entire facility. Doors are protected by a retinal scan, voice-activated pass-phrase, and an eight-digit code.
There are armed guards patrolling the interior.
Explosives and possible chemical agents as defensive measures.
” She met his gaze. “I’ve never come across any dogs, though, so that’s something in our favor. ”
Brett just sat there. Staring at her.
She wet her lip. “Brett—”
“I’m all for taking a risk for the good of the mission, but this…” He pointed at the building. “This is insane. The idea is to save you, not hand you over to the guy who wants you dead.”
She held up her hand, the chip tucked in her palm. “I know it’s risky, but if this is what I think it is, it’s worth it.”
“And what the hell do you think that is? Obviously, a microchip, but they’re everywhere.”
She flipped it over, pointing to the partial numbers.
“It’s impossible to tell what this identifier is, but I’m pretty damn sure it’s from those missile guidance systems I acquired on my last mission.
But if it is, how did it get in that warehouse?
” She pointed at the building. “I know I didn’t have any on me because the last time I had them I was putting them in a secure box inside that facility.
And why would those assholes keep asking me who else knew about them if they already had them, right there in the warehouse? ”
Brett’s expression firmed. “Shit. You think McCormick’s playing both sides. Grabbing weaponry for the CIA but then fudging the numbers and selling some of it to the highest bidder. And he must think you’re on to him.”
“It would explain why I was taken, why they kept me alive. Tried to get me to talk. McCormick would want to know if I had any evidence stashed away, seeing as how I nearly took him down once before. He knows what I’m capable of.
That I could have incriminating files ready to distributed if anything happened to me. ”
“A Hail Mary.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “We should call Cannon. Get the rest of the team here.”
“There’s no way that large of a team would be able to move around undetected. The two of us is pushing it. Three or four more men… This is about stealth, not power. Even if we had your squad, Priest’s squad—hell, all of Alpha’s assault forces—we’d still be outmanned and outgunned.”
“So, you’re saying one mistake in there—”
“And we’re both dead. That about sums it up.”
“Fabulous.”
“On the bright side, I should be able to get us inside without alerting security. After that… It’s going to take patience, skill, and a healthy dose of luck.”
“And if that chip is from one of the systems? If McCormick sells them. What kind of fallout are we talking?”
“Imagine the capability to strike long-range targets with laser precision in the hands of militia forces that aren’t too fond of our country.”
“Well, crap.”
“You in?”
It was official. Ellis Baker had lost her freaking mind. And Colt had willingly followed her down that rabbit hole.
Missile guidance systems. That was a serious security threat. And if Ellis was right, it was only the tip of what the bastard had access to. For all they knew, McCormick could have been selling weaponry for years.
Colt let his head fall against the seat. “I always knew you were trouble.” He slid a sideways glance her way. “You really think you can get us inside?”
“I’ll make you a deal. If I can’t get us inside five minutes after we reach the access panel on the rear door, we’ll leave. Go back to the safehouse. Hell, I can turn myself over to the feds.”
“Five minutes? To crack CIA-level security?”
“Any longer than that, and the fail-safe goes off. We’ll have heavily armed guards on our ass before we get two steps away.”
“You’re shitting me, right?” Colt snorted. “Damn it. Fine. And no one’s going to the feds until we have proof, so you’d better crack that damn door.”
She nodded, turned in her seat, then shifted her pony tail over. “Do me a favor and take a photo of the barcode.”
“Seriously? Jericho said that’s what it was. I didn’t want to believe her.” He snapped the image then handed her back the burner cell. “I thought that accessed your bug-out kit or something?”
“I have that stored in a safety-deposit box. This is that Hail Mary you mentioned before.”
She activated a program she’d downloaded then touched the screen.
Lines of code scrolled across the page. Colt didn’t know what it meant.
How it was supposed to get them inside, but he’d give her the benefit of the doubt.
Hacking was her thing, not his. She made a few more entries then looked over at him.
“The access panel we want is on the south door. It’s McCormick’s private entrance.
Which means, no exterior cameras once we get past the perimeter ones located on the corners of the building.
McCormick doesn’t like being caught on tape while entering and exiting this place, which is why that door only opens with his security clearance.
We’ll have that five-minute window to hack it before interior alarms go off—”
“And a team of those SOG assholes mows us down.”
She smiled.
Colt shook his head. “Won’t McCormick get some kind of notification when we disarm everything?”
“If I get it all right, he won’t know unless he comes down here and physically checks the login records.”