Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
“I didn’t find anything. Sorry.” Jess removed her glasses and pushed away from the desk. “Probably a burner phone, and he’s since tossed it in the Potomac for all we know.”
“You think that picture is somehow connected to the op from ten years ago?” Owen pointed to the photo the deliveryman had given Sam, which he’d turned over to Jess last night after he’d escorted Sam to his hotel room.
“Considering Canton is in the image with your brother and Brad, it sure as hell looks that way, but the location doesn’t jive with the story we were given about how your brother died.”
Yeah, that part was a bit of a mind fuck. “Whoever’s threatening her must have our people, right?”
“We’ll do our best to find out.”
Owen checked the time. “When are we going to call in a manhunt for Handlin? It’s not like him not to answer your calls, right?”
“He’ll get back to me. He always does.”
“Did it ever take him this long?” They needed to confirm the photo was connected to the missing SEALs and the CIA officer. The wait was making his skin itch.
“No, but I’ll try and get ahold of POTUS again if I don’t hear from him by the afternoon. They must be held up in meetings about this.”
He hoped that was all.
“Not sure how someone got that photo, but I’m having a hard time believing it was doctored. Well, unless they altered the background location.”
“And that’s fairly easy, right?”
“It’d take me all of two seconds.” She was a cyber genius, though. “But the quality is damn good if it’s a fake.” She stood and turned on the single-server brewer. “One thing is for certain: Samantha is connected to this now. I’m not sure how we’ll explain this to her.”
“She knows what we do.”
Jess glared at him. “What?”
He almost smiled. “Sorry, I mean she knows about our alias and wants our help.”
“Well, whatever the hell went down on that op ten years ago, it must be pretty bad if POTUS can’t share the operational details with anyone.”
That was his line of thought, too, which made him wonder if the image of his brother in Kiev was real; damned if it didn’t make sense.
Jess added a packet of sugar to her black coffee and turned to face him.
“How are you holding up?” he asked.
She waved a dismissive hand. Typical Jess. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”
“Canton was your mentor at the Farm, and he’s missing.” He sent an exaggerated gaze drifting to the left and then slowly drifted his eyes to the right. “It’s just me in here. You don’t have to wear your brave-girl panties, you know.”
She rolled her eyes. “My panties are perfectly fine. Let’s just focus on your girl.”
“She’s not my anything.” And she never could be, even if his body didn’t seem to get the message. Even if his body was betraying him every time she was within arm’s reach. And hell, how could he even have a reaction to her, or to any woman, at a time like this?
“I’m sorry she lied to you, but maybe she was just scared or intimidated.” Her focus switched back to her screen, and she sat at her desk.
His gaze followed the swirl of steam rising from the coffee. “Anyway.”
At the sound of the door opening, he straightened and almost sighed with relief at the reprieve. Then he stiffened at the sight of Luke entering with Liam and Knox.
“Anything from Handlin?” Jess asked once the door was closed.
“No. You?” Luke sat on the edge of the bed, and a band of tension filled the room.
Owen hadn’t talked one-on-one to Luke since the meeting with Handlin yesterday.
He didn’t want to be pissed at his best friend, but the fact remained that Luke had known all along that Jason had been DEVGRU, and he’d never said a word.
It’d take Owen a little time to shrug off the burn of that truth.
“Any hits on the image of Samantha’s deliveryman?” Luke asked Jessica.
“I’m good, but I’m not a magician. The partial picture of that guy pulled up about five thousand hits at a twenty-five percent match each.
” She turned in her chair and looked to Liam and Knox, who now occupied the couch by the window.
“Tell me you guys got something helpful from the cameras at her office this morning.”
Liam shook his head. “He couldn’t just waltz into a federal building without ID. He had to have already devised a plan to infiltrate the building and bypass security.”
“That’s not something you come up with overnight,” Jess noted.
“The blackmail photos and threat Samantha got this morning make sense, though,” Knox said.
“Hell, even the photo delivered to her office.” His gaze shifted to Owen.
“This shit happens all the time. Behind-the-scenes ways to make political change in D.C. But kidnapping two Navy SEALs and a CIA officer to force that change . . . not so much.”
“You ever cross paths with the McCarthys?” Owen couldn’t help but ask, especially since Knox had grown up in the same political spotlight as Sam.
Knox stood, the sudden political talk seeming to make him uneasy; he tucked his hands in his cargo pants pockets. “Nah. I’ve always done my best to avoid D.C. insiders—well, unless they’re the ones writing us the checks.”
Jess was on her feet again. “Even if whoever’s threatening Samantha does have our guys, one question remains: how the hell did they know about Shaw, Robins, and Canton?”
“And what do they want with them? Torture for intel?” Liam’s lips flattened as he laid out his question, allowing the others to gather ideas.
“If Jason and Brad really died in Ukraine instead of Iraq, that means the government lied about everything,” Luke said. “And that’d be one colossal cover-up.”
“It was a Russian nuclear scientist whom Jason and Brad were trying to save in Ramadi,” Jess said.
Owen had memorized every detail about his brother’s op. Well, the details which hadn’t been redacted. Had everything been a lie?
“The scientist died in the explosion, right?” Liam asked.
Owen nodded.
“I’m thinking whatever happened was big enough to push Shaw into retirement, too. According to my research, he filed the paperwork within a few days of the end of that op ten years ago,” Jess said.
“SEALs don’t up and quit at that age unless severely injured,” Knox added.
“Are we all thinking the same thing?” Jess folded her arms.
“Someone other than al-Qaeda killed that scientist, and the U.S. decided to cover it up.” Owen hung his head. “That has to be the connection, right?” He thought about what Sam had told him. “She’s trying to help broker a deal to end border conflict between Ukraine and Russia.”
“What if whoever killed the scientist was from Ukraine?” Knox proposed.
“It’d blow whatever chances Ukraine has at entering NATO.” Owen’s mind raced as he considered what might have gone down ten years ago.
“Christ.” Luke retrieved his phone from his pocket. “We’ve got to get ahold of Handlin and the president.”
“We’ll split up. This guy,” Jess pointed to the partial image of the deliveryman on her screen, “is our best lead right now.”
Owen’s chest tightened. “I’ll go get the original image from Sam’s FBI pal. It looks like this situation needs containment more than we realized.”
“Take Asher with you,” Luke ordered. “Knox and I will hunt down Handlin, and in the meantime, Liam and Jess can head to Samantha’s and sweep her place for bugs.”
“We should have you and Sam take a look at the security CCTV footage around her home and office, too. Maybe we can get a better shot of this deliveryman on camera,” Jess suggested to Owen.
“Should we have eyes on her father?” Knox asked. “I mean, my pops never travels without a shit-ton of security, but what about her old man?”
“He’s in Russia right now, and Sam said her dad is already heavily guarded,” Owen answered.
“Good, because I don’t want to raise any red flags about this, especially without knowing for sure everything is connected.” Luke eyed Owen. “We’re going to keep Samantha safe, though. I promise.”
Owen gave him a quick nod. “Call me as soon as you hear from Handlin.”
He left the room to grab Sam and Asher so they could head to Javier’s place. He froze outside Asher’s door when he heard Sam laugh, and the sound cut under his skin and created a warmth in his chest that didn’t belong there. At least, not because of her.
Get your shit together. He blinked a couple of times and then knocked.
Asher opened the door with a shit-eating grin on his face.
Great. “Nothing from Handlin yet,” he said in a low voice before entering the room and striding past Asher’s large frame.
He tried to fight the jolt of his pulse at the mere sight of Sam sitting by the window. She caught her thumbnail between her teeth as her eyes found his.
How could he have slept in a bed with her? Kissed her?
She’d been Brad’s fiancée. Brad had been Jason’s best friend.
And now, Owen was the guy who’d seen her naked and shoved his tongue into her mouth on multiple occasions within the span of twenty-four hours.
He knew every little detail of her body; it’d been burned and stored in his memory bank. He wasn’t sure how the hell he’d delete the damn thoughts.
And yet, why the hell was he even thinking about any of that now with everything he’d learned in the last day?
He was in the middle of an op. Well, not technically yet, since POTUS hadn’t cleared them, but still, he shouldn’t have been thinking about Sam. Period.
“Hey.” Sam rose to her feet in her Chucks, which he found irritatingly hot paired with her khaki shorts.
She crossed the room to stand before him. She had on her jasmine perfume today, the one she’d worn on the boat when she couldn’t blame alcohol for letting him kiss her.
He wanted to suck in a deep breath and pretend for a moment that all the bad shit of the world could get sucked into a black hole of oblivion.
She tucked her short hair behind her ears. “Javier texted me; he’s at home.” She grabbed her purse off the dresser and slung the strap over her shoulder, then maneuvered between Owen and Asher toward the door as if anxious to leave.