Chapter 29
DECLAN
The multiple long-haul flights are getting to me. I can’t get any quality sleep. And I have the aftermath of this botched mission to deal with.
I do not handle failure well, and that’s what this mission was. A complete failure. One with dire consequences if we can’t stop these weapons from being used against innocent people.
I hate that the Order is winning. That they are one step ahead of us.
I wake up early on Monday with a plan.
First, I ping Oliver directly and ask to speak with him as soon as possible to brief him on the mission.
I need to take full responsibility. I don’t want him to think Charlie messed up; it was only her second assignment.
I won’t mention how I silenced her in a moment of panic. I get the sense he would not approve.
Then, on the way into work, I get two large coffees and a gluten-free crumb cake.
As I head to my office, I stop at Charlie’s desk. I saw her only ten hours ago when we parted ways at the airport. We didn’t say much on the flight home. There wasn’t much I could say.
The mission was a bust. There is no way round it.
No silver lining. Monique sold key evidence to an unknown entity.
We have no way to get the evidence to the authorities so they can seize Castillo’s yacht and search it for the weapons.
Which means we need to intercept somehow before they are used or resold.
I’m exhausted. I’m cranky. And the kiss with Charlie keeps replaying in my mind. Of all the ways I’ve pictured kissing her – I can admit that now – in a dark alley in Copenhagen just so I could shut her up was not one of them.
It doesn’t matter; there is no way she will let me kiss her again. I’m an executive here. She isn’t my assistant, but we were on a job together. I crossed a line. Another loss from this weekend.
“This is for you,” I say as I stand next to her desk, decorated with bright colorful tchotchkes and a floral-print calendar. Very Charlie, I think.
Her blue eyes shine behind her glasses as she peers up at me. I can see she’s also exhausted. And the awkward grin she gives me, polite and distant, is like a slap. Like she would rather forget the kiss too.
I put the coffee and the crumb cake on her desk. “Gotta beat the jet lag, Ross,” I offer as an explanation for my gift.
I’m not sure what made me think of her while I was in line.
To plead with her to not report me to HR.
To show her that the kiss did mean something, but I can’t explore those pesky emotions right now.
That I care for her, about her, but that, as I suspected, romantic entanglements would be a distraction.
She eyes the coffee cup and brown bag. “It’s half-caf,” I say, “and gluten-free,” I add. I know what you like.
Charlie nods. “Thank you,” she says as she reaches for the coffee. I’m not sure what response would have been enough to calm the storm inside me, but that wasn’t it.
But this is the response I needed. Professional. Removed. Detached. I cannot risk innocent lives because of a crush. I cannot risk her life, should someone within the Order find out.
I trust Charlie now. She is one of the few people in this world who have that.
But though I feel more than that for her, it’s too late to claim anything else.
This means I will hurt. If not today, then tomorrow.
Because I cannot pursue Charlie, and eventually she’ll find someone else and I’ll be unhappy and jealous.
Every rotten part of me will bubble up to the surface again. She deserves better than that.
I head to my office and wait for Oliver’s schedule to open up. Outside my door, I spot Charlie working. Ana stops by and they chat before heading out.
Pro: with Charlie not at her desk I can stop being distracted.
Con: now I have to worry what Charlie might be saying to Ana. Even if Charlie doesn’t disclose the mission, what if she and Ana discuss the kiss. Women do that, right?
Focus, Davidson.
I ping Ian and ask for access to our database of known associates for every member of the Order. I still can’t place the guy from the bar and I’m hoping he’ll turn up in the photo index.
I’m digging into my inbox when I hear my door open. I pop my head up and look out to the hall. Charlie’s desk is still empty as Oliver walks in. He closes the door and sits down immediately. He leans forwards, his hands steepled, waiting for me to talk.
I tell him about the lounge. Monique’s discreet drop. My movement to intercept and the appearance of an as yet unidentified male who beat me to it. I detail my logic in using the back exit, assuming they had pre-planned on it.
“And did you catch him as he left? Did you overhear anything?” Oliver asks, his gaze unflinching.
The touch of Charlie’s lips on mine, the brush of her cheek, her hair under my palms. The excitement and arousal flash before my mind in an instant.
“No,” I tell him. I offer no explanation as to why. Mercifully, he doesn’t press me.
“Well, on my end, I met with the head of the World Games Organizing Committee this weekend. Based on their security team, they think there is a potential attack lined up for the World Games in Rome,” Oliver discloses.
I nod as the pieces start to fit together in my mind. “Could fit, given Castillo’s planned route on the Italian coast.”
“But it could also be a distraction,” Oliver cautions. “The Order isn’t one for flash-and-bang attacks. There could be a separate group targeting the World Games and it just happens that key members of the Order would be there. Or maybe the Order is switching up their MO.”
“The World Games has excellent security. Chances are an attack could be stopped by local law enforcement or the added security for an event,” I remind Oliver.
“Exactly.” He nods his head. “We can’t dismiss the potential threat.
This was a huge arms sale. If you hear a thunder of hooves, you think horses, not zebras, right?
We have someone with a cache of arms and a credible threat at a marquee event.
Logic says they are somehow linked.” Oliver leans back in his chair.
He waves his hand as if swiping away at that theory.
“I think, if anything, Castillo is there to re-sell the arms to some mercenaries working in Lagos. He wants Vallus to be the only internet provider in sub-Saharan Africa. If those weapons are used to blow up any existing infrastructure, Vallus can come in and look like the good guy, even when they provide expensive internet.”
“Sounds very on-brand for him,” I agree. “We need to know for sure. Let’s monitor Castillo at the World Games to see who he’s re-selling to,” I say, listing the first item that comes to mind.
“You’ll be part of our team going to Rome later this summer.
Charlie will be there too,” Oliver tells me.
“Maybe Castillo will slip up and tell her something helpful,” he mutters.
I can tell he doesn’t like this idea. I hate it.
My fists clench beneath my desk. The idea of that man being near her again flash-boils my blood.
“Let’s hope we discover the real target before we get there.
” Anything to get this solved sooner and spare Charlie another minute with Castillo.
“I’ll see if there’s any chatter on another target in Rome. ”
Oliver nods but remains seated. His gaze is focused ahead of him, lost in thought. I wait for him to share whatever theory is forming in his mind. “You know, we’ve been focused on Frank Castillo. But he may just be joining the Order. The real kingpin is Holden Ambrose.”
I nod to show I’m following. Holden Ambrose is the man who invented social media. People either love him for his tech ingenuity or they hate him for the addictive all-consuming media he invented. “You think Ambrose could have something planned?”
“He’s always talked the talk of a pacifist, but his earnings have been in decline.
Social media lives and breathes advertising dollars.
But as people find ways to avoid ads, his bottom line is hurt.
The algorithms know so much about us. Where we go, who we like and don’t.
They start serving up baby-registry ads before people even realize they’re pregnant.
” Oliver pauses, his thoughts still forming.
“So what do the arms have to do with that?”
“I’m not sure.” Oliver shakes his head. “But Ambrose has been meeting in DC a lot. The potential for the data he owns to be used to apprehend enemies of the state, however that is defined, could be lucrative to Ambrose. A defense contract to mine data will always pay way more than banner ads.”
“Huh,” I say, catching on to his logic. “You think Ambrose could trigger an attack that would push through his pending contracts?”
Oliver equivocates. “It’s a lot of coulds and mights. It’s a weak theory.”
“Don’t discount your gut and I’ll keep an ear out for any chatter,” I assure my boss.
Oliver nods and stands up. “That’s good, but let’s cast a wider net just in case.”
A wider net. There is always more to do.
Another riddle to solve, some hidden game.
We make progress at making the world safer, and then someone else decides to mess it up.
I don’t feel expendable like I did in the navy, but the missions, once thrilling, are starting to feel a little like whack-a-mole.
I jot down my next steps from Oliver and there is a knock at my office door.
“Come in,” I say a little too forcefully, hoping it’s Charlie.
Ian pops in and closes the door behind him. “I printed out the images of those in the database that most closely matched your description. Even those without facial hair, in case the beard is new.”
I nod and take the stack from Ian. This will save me combing through the server myself.
Oliver catches Ian up on our new focus: Rome and the upcoming World Games. Oliver doesn’t mention his theory about the Rome threat being a decoy or about Ambrose and his contracts, but I’m sure Ian can riddle that out for himself.
“Alright, I’ll refocus my searches,” Ian says.
We have a plan.
Oliver opens the door to my office; the conversation is over. “Good work, team,” he says and heads back to his office.
I hazard a glance at Charlie’s desk; she still isn’t there. Damn. I have to admit that so much of my angst about Charlie is actually about my growing attraction. My defenses are buckling under what I’m trying to hold back.
I haven’t tried to romance anyone in a while. And it doesn’t even matter. If I decided I cared about Charlie and wanted something romantic, that’s reason enough to never try. She would be a liability, a weakness any enemy could use as leverage. And if they hurt her, I’d never forgive myself.
Best to focus on her faults, reasons to not want to be with her. I’m going to have to dig to find something, anything, to stop these longings from jeopardizing our mission, FIRE, or her safety.