Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Jesse eyed the ring boxes on his dresser and struggled to breathe as thoughts of what might go wrong in Paris began to suffocate him. That feeling of uncertainty and helplessness was too similar to how he’d felt every day in Iraq. Even now, long after he’d witnessed brothers-in-arms lose limbs, die in battle, and even take their own lives, the ghosts of that damn war still haunted him. The country’s involvement may have ended, but the battles at home were still raging.
How many times had he been on the verge of losing himself, giving in to the darkness, giving up the fight to keep his head above the pit of quicksand that threatened to pull him under?
How many times did I think about . . .? But whenever he felt that pull, an image of Ella materialized as a lifeline and dragged him out. Hell, she’d been his saving grace before, during, and after his time in the Army.
His heart climbed into his throat at the idea of her becoming collateral damage because of his life choices. Because of his mistake that day in Bulgaria with Zoran.
Jesse let his dark thoughts go when the image of Ella standing next to that wedding dress in her studio planted roots in his head, saving him yet again.
The wedding.
Three more hours until the party, until their marriage.
He hadn’t talked to Ella since she left his room after their kiss fifteen hours ago. She and Savanna, under Griffin’s watchful eye, had gone back to Ella’s house so she could pack for Paris, and then there were the wedding preparations to see to. Every time she’d crossed paths with Jesse, she’d either cut her attention to the floor or the sky, anything to avoid eye contact.
It was probably best if they stayed away from each other until the “wedding” anyway. He wasn’t sure what to say to her after he’d nearly ravaged her like a wild animal following that kiss.
That kiss.
A kiss that he didn’t know how to describe. How does one put into words the way a kiss like that felt other than it was the closest to Heaven he’d probably ever get.
Because he was trouble, wasn’t he? At least, that was his dad’s opinion of him growing up.
Screwup. A fuckup. That’s all he is. All he’ll ever be. Memories of his dad’s scathing words latched hold of his thoughts. Those roots had been allowed to grow for too fucking long.
Jesse had struggled to see himself differently, even with all the praise he’d received from his commanders in the Army as a Ranger. The chest candy and the accolades. None of it had erased the feeling he’d kept locked inside that there was something wrong with him. But he was trying to shake the thoughts now.
And apparently, Rory was only now . . . remembering.
She’s seeing a therapist? He was all for people getting help, but he really did wish his sister hadn’t opened Pandora’s box, revealing the parts of their childhood she’d previously blocked. Not that their father had treated her as anything other than the apple of his eye.
“Not sure if I’ll ever deserve you,” Jesse whispered as he focused back on the open ring box that held Ella’s engagement ring and wedding band. But God, do I want you. “Need you,” he added under his breath, shocked to find tears in his eyes when he looked up at himself in the mirror.
When he’d gone into Birmingham a few hours ago for the rings and a haircut, Jack had insisted on having his six. Not that Jesse felt he needed protection, but Jack had hopped into his truck like a stubborn dog that refused to leave his side. Then Jack asked the million-dollar question on their drive back home. Why aren’t you and Ella together for real?
Jesse had peddled some bullshit response, worried if he told Jack the truth, he might hot-foot it straight to Carter and Gray and demand Jesse be booted from the team. But being an operator was the only thing he seemed to be good at. That was why Thatcher wanted him back, wasn’t it?
And how fucked up is it that I’m not a screwup when it comes to killing? Well, aside from Zoran. I didn’t handle business then, and now Ella might be in danger.
“Jesse? We have news.”
Carter’s voice outside his door had him shutting the ring boxes and shaking his head, trying to pull himself together. “Coming.”
Once in the kitchen, he was surprised to see Rory talking to Sydney, some kind of electronic device he didn’t recognize in Rory’s palm.
The rest of his team were absent aside from Carter and Sydney, most likely preparing security measures at the Hawkins Ranch for the party.
“What’s going on?” Jesse circled the kitchen island to move closer to his sister, and she pivoted his way.
“We managed to locate Zoran’s right-hand man, Aleksa Stankovi?, who’s been running the criminal enterprise in Zoran’s absence,” Carter explained.
Jesse gritted his teeth for a minute. Cut the head off a snake only to have another one pop up. Sounds about right, damn it. “Where is he? Do you think he may know Zoran’s whereabouts? In communication with him?” he rattled off his thoughts.
Rory handed whatever she was holding to Sydney and faced him. He still didn’t know why his sister was part of this conversation, and he was getting the feeling he didn’t want to know.
He’d only recently learned Rory and Carter had sort of worked together during her adventurous days. It was still mind-blowing to think his sister had been single-handedly taking down wildlife traffickers when he, as well as everyone else, thought that she was merely chasing treasure in the deep blue sea.
“No answers to any of those questions yet aside from the location,” Carter responded. “Aleksa’s at a compound in Tirana, Albania.”
“I’m assuming Aleksa left Bulgaria as soon as Zoran was shot. Protect himself and keep the illegal operations going.” Sydney tucked her blonde hair behind her ears.
“Aleksa didn’t have a post at the embassy like Zoran, right?” Jesse asked her.
Sydney quickly checked something on her laptop. “No, Aleksa has no known connections to the embassy.” She focused back on Jesse. “And as far as we can tell, he was an associate of Zoran’s in Serbia before Zoran took the post of minister counselor for the Serbian Embassy in Bulgaria. They used the cover of their legitimate business holdings to conceal their illegal activities for decades.”
“Things started to get more intense in the last few years. Bodies started piling up. The Bulgarians could no longer ignore what was going on,” Carter explained.
From what little Jesse had been told by Thatcher, Zoran’s temper when dealing with his enemies often resulted in their remains being hard to identify. He couldn’t begin to imagine . . .
Ella. Fuck. No, he wouldn’t let that prick near her. No matter what.
Jesse did his best to pull his thoughts from that dangerously dark place in his mind to focus on how to get to Zoran before he got to them. “Why wouldn’t the Bulgarians just revoke Zoran’s diplomatic immunity?” he asked a few heartbeats later, his head back in the game. “Kick him out of the country?”
Carter folded his arms and gave him a contemplative look. He’d been an officer with the CIA, so he knew more about the nitty-gritty inner workings of the Agency than Jesse. Jesse’s job description was basically: point and shoot. Don’t miss.
“Truth?” Carter began. “They either tried to flip Zoran to spy on Serbia in exchange for continued immunity, and he rejected them. Or the Serbians didn’t want Zoran back once he lost his status, and they agreed to look the other way if Zoran were to go missing or die.”
“So, the Bulgarians cut a deal with the CIA instead and kept their hands clean,” Sydney commented, her gaze flicking to Carter briefly.
“Except the Bulgarians did get blood on their hands. Killed the wife.” An image of Zoran’s wife taking a shot to the head that day flashed to mind and had Jesse setting a hand to his stomach. “We, um, still don’t know why they wanted her dead.”
Carter’s dark eyes thinned, his thoughts most likely spinning fast. He’d been a Delta operator like Griffin prior to the CIA, so he had a lot of skills to help out, for which Jesse was grateful. “We’ll figure it out. And we’ll hopefully learn more after we infil Aleksa’s compound.”
Jesse looked at his sister, nearly forgetting Rory was still in the room since she’d been strangely quiet during the back-and-forth discussion. “This plan of yours to go after Aleksa doesn’t include my sister, does it?” He was worried Rory might have volunteered herself, and like hell would he allow that. Rory’s history of infiltrating properties and compounds belonging to the likes of wildlife traffickers, among other unsavory criminals, without being detected was impressive. “Yes, Rory was apparently the best at getting in and out of criminals’ homes undetected in the past to track their smuggling operations, but she’s?—”
“I’m not doing it,” Rory said, shutting down his fears, thank God. “I’m teaching Sydney what I did and how to get inside undetected and plant a few devices.”
Jesse held his chest at the news. He couldn’t handle anyone else being in the line of fire. Especially not his sister literally walking into the home of a bad guy. Hell no.
“Your sister is rather remarkable, I will say,” Sydney commented, nodding at Rory with a smile. “Too bad she’s training canines and not on our team.”
“Don’t give her any ideas.” Jesse was happy his sister was training canines not only for the military but to help veterans with post-traumatic stress. She was needed in that line of work. Too many veterans were struggling, and they needed people out there like Rory who could help, who cared.
“Chris is on your side on this, don’t worry,” Rory said as if maybe she’d already pitched the idea to assist Falcon on the operation.
“Good,” Jesse bit out, moving his gaze back to his team leader. “What do we do?”
“You’re going to have to skip the first night of your honeymoon. I’d like to take my jet and leave as soon as the party ends. We’ll stop by Tirana on our way to Paris. It’d be safer to keep Ella and Savanna on the jet at a secure terminal while we’re there though.”
“I doubt we have time to arrange help getting us in and out of the Albanian airport armed,” Jesse said.
“No, I don’t think I can swing that. We’re solid for our arrival in Paris though,” Carter confirmed. “But yeah, it’d take me too long to set up a contact at the Albanian terminal.” He paused. “I’ll have to pull some guys from my place in Macedonia.”
Since when do we have guys in Macedonia? Carter had more boots on the ground throughout the world at his beck and call than Jesse had realized.
“I’ll split the guys into a few teams. Sending some to Austria to keep an eye on Zoran’s brother. And a few of the guys can check out the property in Tirana ahead of time and then bring us weapons in case we need to go in and help Sydney.” Carter checked his watch. “Six-hour time difference. Direct flight since we’re taking my jet. We should arrive at about twenty-two or twenty-three hundred hours, Albanian time.”
“Infil the property around zero one or two hundred hours?” Sydney suggested, and Carter nodded. “And still be in Paris in time to catch the sunrise.”
“And you’re certain this plan to get Sydney in and out will work?” Jesse didn’t want to insult his sister, but had she really been that good at infils? Alive to tell the tales , he supposed.
“My plan will work,” Rory answered confidently. “The number of times I’ve done this is?—”
“One too many,” Jesse interrupted, his stomach turning. “But if you trust the plan and feel comfortable going in,” he said to Sydney this time, “then okay.”
“Griffin will stay at the airport with Ella and Savanna. Or it can be you. Flip a coin,” Carter told him, and the idea of leaving Ella alone already made him nuts. But they’d be in a secure airport and on a jet. About as safe as can be, he hoped.
“We’re not just planting listening devices. We’re setting up security cameras around his property as well,” Sydney said. “We’ll have eyes and ears if Zoran shows up.”
“And I’m leaving two of my guys there as well in case Aleksa goes on the move,” Carter added.
Ella and Savanna taking a pit stop with them for an op in Tirana, and his sister was helping to prep for that mission . . . What in the hell is going on?
“We’ve got it covered. Don’t worry. At least we have a lead,” Sydney said with a small smile, sensing Jesse’s obvious hesitation. “But you have a wedding to prepare for, so I assume you should head to the ranch soon.”
Rory’s eyes connected with Jesse’s a moment later, and he tipped his head to the side, requesting a quick word.
“Give me a second.” Rory followed him from the kitchen and into the living room.
He set a hand on the mantel above the fireplace and bowed his head. “About last night.”
“You don’t need to say anything. I shouldn’t have pressed. And God knows the number of secrets I stacked up over the years, so I’m not one to talk.” Rory’s tone was a bit higher-pitched, like she was working hard to cover her real emotions. “And I know you’ve done your best to keep your interactions with Dad to a minimum since you joined the Army, and that doesn’t change the past, but Mom says he’s redeemed himself, so maybe you can . . .” She was struggling to get through this as much as he was to hear it.
“Then I can be redeemed too?” He slowly faced her, his body locked tight. “You do realize that if Dad had ever hit you or laid a hand on Mom like he did to me, I would have killed him. You know that, right? The first life I would have taken would have been his.” He set a hand to his chest when his heart squeezed. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you from their arguing, but?—”
“Jesse,” she whispered, tears springing in her eyes as she closed in on him and set both hands over his shoulders. “He owes you a lot more than an apology. Mom, too, I suppose, for not leaving him. But you don’t owe him your forgiveness even if Mom says he’s changed.” She released a shaky exhale. “I pressed Mom about the past after I recently remembered, and yes, she said Dad redeemed himself through therapy and work at the church, and she admitted he’s tried to talk to you over the years, but that doesn’t mean?—”
“If you and Mom are okay, then I’m okay. It’s forgotten,” he said with a tense voice, doing his best not to have a fucking breakdown in front of his sister on his wedding day, no less.
Rory may have remembered her past, but there were parts of his past neither she nor their mom had ever witnessed. And like hell would Jesse tell them. He was also damn sure his old man hadn’t fessed up during his penance or whatever his dad wanted to call it.
“All I want to do is forget. Him. You crying. Their fighting. The people I watched die and couldn’t save in Iraq. The people who’ve died at home because of the war.” He tensed. “The men I’ve killed. The man I’ve become and quite possibly will always be.” He removed her hands from his shoulders and sidestepped her, needing air. “I just want to forget. Absolutely everything.”
Just not Ella. Not the woman who’d kept him from being swallowed whole in that godforsaken quicksand.