Chapter 3 #2
Brick’s question broke through my thoughts.
Now that Youssef Hamza was dead and his organization was in tatters, I was anxious to reintegrate into society.
But getting back to Izabel wouldn’t be as easy as I first thought.
Though she may come to understand why I faked my death, she wouldn’t have agreed to that plan if she’d had a say in it.
She would have gone on the run with me. Even if I were crippled and with Hamza breathing down our necks, she would have stood by my side.
No, she’d be furious if she found out the truth.
I’d broken her trust. Gaining it back would be the toughest fight of my life.
“Go home. Get back to my wife.” I wanted to snort because I had no fucking clue how to approach her.
“Are you joining the SEALs again?”
“No. I had planned on quitting. The day everything went to hell…that was supposed to be my last mission.” Pain stabbed my chest as I remembered the baby we lost.
“Does that mean I don’t get to call you Dave anymore?”
Dave Morgan had been my identity. I made myself respond to both names because I’d always intended to return as Drake Maddox.
“You can call me whatever, Brick.”
“I’ll miss your ugly mug,” the ginger-haired operator said.
The door opened and the rest of the crew filed in. Viktor brought up the rear with his data analyst, Tim. The man was a whiz with computers, just like Hank.
“Tim analyzed some of the information collected from Hamza’s compound and we believe we’ll be able to identify who leaked the plans of the JSOC operation to the various terror networks.”
“Weren’t you certain it was someone from the administration?” Brick asked.
“We need hard evidence before accusing a high-ranking official of treason.”
I smiled grimly. “Didn’t think that ever stopped you before.”
Viktor smirked. “I’ve turned over a new leaf.”
Snorts and varying degrees of laughter made the rounds in the room.
Everyone knew Viktor didn’t stick to protocol and didn’t give a damn who he’d crossed.
I had a suspicion he had dirt on everyone, including the President.
This was what made the man and his company—Artemis Guardians Services (AGS)—lethal.
They had special ops skills, brains, and international connections that made them virtually unstoppable.
Despite my initial resistance to working for the man, much of what I’d learned under Viktor opened my eyes to a world where politics had no control over what was needed to get things done.
“The Director is very pleased with the information we’ve recovered,” Viktor said. “He’s thinking of expanding the task force objectives to go after other terrorists organizations.”
I froze. “I’m out.”
“We haven’t finished the mission, Morgan .”
“It’s Maddox .”
Viktor snorted. “Until we find out who leaked intel of classified military ops to Hamza, our mission is not over.”
“Understood. But that sounds like the work of an analyst and a spook, not people with my skill set.” I nodded to Brick and the other men on the team.
Viktor smiled faintly. “Haven’t you learned what it means to be a spy after three years?”
I emitted a disgruntled sound. There were times when I’d donned a tuxedo for some function to gain information. Part of the training that was hammered into me while I recovered from my injuries was learning the craft of espionage.
“Your documents.” Viktor tipped his chin at Tim, who proceeded to hand out Manila envelopes to a couple of us.
A flash drive, a passport, and a birth certificate fell out.
A weight pressed down on my chest as I ran my thumb over my name and the picture on the passport.
I couldn’t wait to shed the Dave Morgan skin and return to who I once was, but Viktor was right.
The job wasn’t done. Whether I had more to offer remained to be seen.
“If the traitor is within the administration, this might be a job for the DoJ and FBI,” I pointed out. “We’re pushing our jurisdiction too far.”
I winced when the words fell out of my mouth.
It sounded hypocritical and judging from the glimmer in Viktor’s eyes and the suppressed cough from Brick, they thought the same.
Our team had broken so many laws in other countries, I had lost count.
In the beginning, I had problems adjusting to that mindset after being restricted by the rules of engagement the JSOC had instilled into their operators.
But with Task Force Deadly Spear, the rules had not only been broken, they’d been obliterated.
There was only one rule: Don’t get caught.
“Fuck,” I muttered.
“Exactly,” Viktor murmured. “We’re ghosts, remember?” A cautionary tone in the man’s voice made me look up.
“Use your alias when you enter U.S. soil.” He turned to me. “I can’t stop you from seeing Izabel?—”
“Damn right,” I growled.
Viktor chuckled. “Can’t say I envy your situation. Have you figured out how to approach her yet?”
“Not really.” Somehow, driving up to the front of the house, hoping she’d fly down the steps and jump into my arms was wishful thinking.
“If she refuses to speak to you, we can always kidnap her and keep her in the AGS bunker until she talks to you.”
My eyes narrowed. “There will be no kidnapping.”
“You sure about that, Maddox?”
Everyone busted out laughing, and I couldn’t stop from grinning.
“I’ll let you know.”