Chapter 7
Mia was more shaken from her conversation with Sergei than she let on. In all her dealings with him, he’d never acted so . . . fatherly before.
What was it about the men who had Orrin that caused such a reaction? Sergei instilled terror in all who dealt with him. He gave no quarter, though he was known to be honest and fair.
Just never attempt to betray him.
Sergei had teased her, pushed her, aggravated her, and even angered her. But he’d never given her advice like that before. It gave her cause to worry. Especially when he wouldn’t even consider going up against The Saints.
As she drove from the docks, she looked in her rearview mirror at Sergei’s offices and wondered if she would ever return again.
There had been a finality to his words that made her sad. Which was ludicrous, since she hated dealing with him.
Didn’t she?
Her thoughts turned to the debacle in Florida with Camilo. She should’ve known it wouldn’t end with him. She should’ve known the moment more men came pouring out of the trees, firing guns, that they wouldn’t stop until they had her.
But to know that the Colombians were part of The Saints was like being doused with ice water.
The Russians frightened her because she knew it was only a matter of time before they came for her. Now, it was the Russians and the Colombians.
“How long has Sergei been in the States?” Cullen asked.
“He’s controlled the docks for nearly forty years.”
Cullen made a sound at the back of his throat. “That means he’s been away from Russia that long.”
“Meaning?” she prompted.
“The men who took my father and killed his team are from Russia. I knew the ones who were after Owen and Natalie arrived in Texas a few weeks ago, but I thought they were just muscle.”
“If it’s someone from Russia running things, that could explain Sergei’s reaction.”
“I believe it is Russia controlling The Saints.”
The way Cullen said it, with such certainty, had Mia shooting him a glare. “You know who’s in charge.”
“Just a gut feeling.”
“I wish we knew for sure. A name and a face would make things seem less scary.”
Cullen kept his gaze dead ahead, as if he were the one driving, not her. “Information gathering takes time, especially when we’re doing it ourselves.”
“Because we can’t trust anyone.” She made a right on the way to her apartment.
“It does make things difficult.”
She came to a stoplight. “It could be anyone running things.”
“I suspect it’s someone with power already.”
“That would make sense.”
“Any Russian in the States comes under suspicion, then.”
She pulled into the lot of her apartment and drove into a parking space. She turned off the ignition. “We could start looking into them, but without clearance, it’s going to be more than tricky.”
“You’re right.”
She climbed out of the Jeep and made her way to the building. Cullen was on her heels as she punched in the code that allowed her inside.
“How often is your cargo checked?” he asked as they bypassed the elevator and took the stairs to the third floor.
It was a curious question, and a change of subject, but she didn’t mention it. “I never know when it’s going to be checked. Sometimes it’s on every trip. Sometimes, it’s a long time before they stop me.”
“But the Air Force knows everywhere you go?”
She gave a nod, stopping at her apartment door and unlocking it. “Everywhere.”
“So the base knew you were headed to Russia.”
“General Davis did. He won’t give approval for me to fly out if I don’t let him know.”
She walked into her place and began pulling guns from her various—and many—hiding places throughout the two-bedroom apartment.
“You had to tell Davis despite it being a Black Ops mission?” Cullen asked in surprise.
She lay on her back on the floor and pulled out a rifle and two clips of ammunition that were taped beneath her sofa. “That’s an affirmative.”
“Does Davis have dealings with Sergei?”
She pulled another two clips and a knife that were taped beneath the coffee table free before she rolled to her knees and grabbed one of the pillows from the couch.
She unzipped it and took out a handgun. “Anything the military needs is brought directly to the base, not through the docks and Sergei. But yes, Davis knows Sergei. You can’t live in Dover and not know who Sergei is. ”
Mia went to her bedroom and gathered more weapons. Then she returned to the kitchen, laying everything on the table before turning to the cabinets.
She took out a gun from a pot, another from the oven, and one more from the pantry. She returned to the table and looked up at Cullen. “Will this do?”
“I think I’m in love,” he replied with a wink.
She shook her head and picked up a Glock, checking the clip even though she knew it was full. “Why do you think there’s a connection between General Davis and Sergei?”
“We know for a fact that someone betrayed Dad. Our first thought was that it was Hewett in DC. Once you told me Davis knows every flight you take, he became a suspect, as well. We’re not just looking for The Saints, Mia. We’ve got to stay ahead of them because they’ll be coming for both of us.”
“You because you’re Orrin’s son,” she said.
He gave a nod. “And you because you flew Dad and lost cargo for Camilo.”
“Well, shit.”
A grin lifted the corners of his lips. “Exactly.”
She let Cullen choose the weapons he wanted. “The General might have known where I was taking Orrin and the team, but he didn’t know what for.”
“It wouldn’t take a lot to put it together. Dad was Black Ops. I gather that wasn’t a secret to Davis?”
“Orrin is friends with him. Most people think Orrin retired. Only a few know that he put together his own team.”
Cullen’s lips twisted. “Another mark against Davis. He knew you were headed to Russia, and he was aware Dad was Black Ops. It would only take a few calls to find out what the mission was.”
“Orrin was careful about who he trusted.”
“In this business, betrayal eventually finds you—no matter how careful you are.”
That didn’t make her feel any better. She felt as if a timer had been put above her, counting down to when The Saints would find her. She’d lost considerable time after her run-in with Camilo.
How long did she have before someone betrayed her? It made her stomach pitch and roll.
“It could be anyone,” she said.
“Yes.”
She gathered the remaining weapons and put them on her person. “What now?”
“Food. I’m hungry. Since I saw your bare pantry, we’d better go out.”
She shot him a look. “So I don’t like to cook. It’s not a big deal.”
“Of course, it isn’t,” he said with a knowing smile.
“I suppose you can cook?”
“I’m damn good at it, if I do say so myself.”
Was there anything he wasn’t good at? She was beginning to think not.
Now fully armed, they left her apartment and returned to the Jeep. Since it was well after midnight, there were few places open.
She took him to one of her favorite spots. The diner had been around since the fifties but had some of the best food and coffee around.
They quickly settled in a booth, both on high alert.
She tried to take the bench where she could see the door, but Cullen beat her to it.
Instead, she slid into the opposite side of the booth and smiled as the waitress, a woman in her sixties with blonde hair turning gray and kind brown eyes, walked up.
“Hello, sugar,” she said to Mia. “You’re in late today. Or should I say early?”
Mia couldn’t help but smile. “Hey, Molly. I’ll have my usual.”
Molly’s eyes shifted to Cullen. “Well, hello, handsome. It’s about time Mia came in here with someone around her age.”
“Molly,” she warned.
The waitress’s eyes widened. “What? Can’t I look out for you, sugar?”
“I’ll have a three egg omelet with tomatoes, bell peppers, and ham. Add a side of hash browns, extra crispy. Oh, and your largest mug of coffee,” Cullen said.
“Got it,” Molly said and walked away with a smile.
Mia moved the sugar shaker to line up with the ketchup and salt and pepper. She could feel Cullen’s gaze on her. He stared as if he could see into her mind, and she was beginning to think that he just might be able to.
“What is it about you that makes people want to protect you?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. My charming personality, I guess.”
He raised a brow in question. “You do dangerous work. You willingly put your life on the line. Why?”
“Why do you do it?”
“I do it because it’s what men in my family do. It’s been that way since the American Revolution, and I suspect it’ll continue on long after I’ve turned to dust.”
“Because I’m female, I can’t have that same ambition?”
He gave a nod of thanks as Molly delivered two coffees before walking away again.
Cullen poured in sugar and stirred the liquid.
When he looked up at Mia, he said, “Your sex has nothing to do with it. You got out of the military. You still work for the Air Force as well as men like my father and Sergei. But why? Why do it without the protection of the government?”
“I like to do things my way. If I saw someone in trouble, I wasn’t going to have a commanding officer tell me I couldn’t save them simply because of some order.”
Cullen took a sip of coffee before he leaned back, putting his arm along the back of the booth. “You’re like most pilots, then. You live for danger.”
“You can’t climb into a plane or helicopter and not love danger.
Each time we go up in the air, we face a multitude of things that could go wrong and send us plummeting to the ground.
Does it feel amazing to have such a large machine to control?
To make it do things the creators said it couldn’t do?
Yes. There’s no greater joy than taking my plane up in the clouds and seeing how tiny the world really is. ”
His hazel gaze simply watched her.
She wasn’t finished, though. “Everyone makes comments about pilots and our cockiness. Yet everyone in the military—especially the Special Forces branches—is the same. You’re just as cocky when you pick up your gun and head out on a mission.
You appreciate and grasp the same danger when you engage the enemy. ”
“Yes, I do.”
“Then why question me?” she demanded.
“Because I want to know what makes you tick, Mia Carter. You fascinate me.”