Chapter 9
The longer Cullen was with Mia, the more certain he was of two things.
He’d never been in such a situation before, and it left him more than a little off-kilter. To want someone as desperately as he wanted Mia but to wonder if she was somehow embroiled in his father’s kidnapping . . .
Yet, he couldn’t believe she was involved in the deaths of the team. Her reaction was too visceral to be anything but the truth.
“So, I fascinate you?” she asked.
Cullen smiled and took a drink of coffee, both his forearms resting on the booth table. He wasn’t sure why he’d told her that, but he didn’t want to take it back. “Is that so shocking?”
“I’m like anyone else, so, yes.”
“You’re far from being like anyone else.” Was it his imagination, or had that been a pleased look that flashed in her black eyes?
She took a drink of coffee. “You say you joined the military because it’s what your family does, but you’re good at it.”
“Good” didn’t mean he liked it. In fact, he hated being in the military. It was a secret he’d kept to himself all these years, and one he would continue to keep.
“Nothing to say?” she asked. “I read about some of your missions. You always get the job done.”
“I’m good at killing,” he said with a shrug. “Not exactly something I’m proud of.”
Her grin vanished then. She took a bite, chewed, and swallowed before she said, “You have a gift. One that you don’t want.”
“I didn’t say that.” He’d already said too much. There was something about her that made it easy for him to talk—not something he did a lot with women. Not meaningful conversations anyway.
She set down her fork. “You did. Not in words, but in the way you stiffened and your eyes grew distant and hard.”
“You kill enough, whether for pleasure or because of an order, and it eventually empties your soul.” And he was running low on the soul part.
He’d endured these past years, but it was coming to an end. As soon as he found Orrin, he was leaving the military. All he wanted to do was return to the ranch and raise cattle and ride horses all day.
It’s all he’d ever wanted.
Her hand rested atop his. That same shock went through him, and he moved his thumb so that he was holding her hand as much as she was his.
Big, black eyes watched him. “You’re a good man, who has saved countless people. Yes, it involved killing, but that doesn’t diminish who you are. Be proud of what you’ve accomplished.”
He’d never thought of it that way. As he looked into her eyes, he saw himself as she did. And somehow, it absolved him of some of his sins.
She pushed aside her half-drunk cup of coffee. “You’ve finished your meal, so what now?”
“I’d like to talk to General Davis.”
She glanced at her watch. It’s after two in the morning.”
“We can head back to the base so I can look around more before I see Davis.”
Without question, she scooted out of the booth and looked around for Molly. He missed having her touch—and touching her. He tossed money for the bill on the table, along with a large tip, and put his hand on Mia’s back as they walked from the diner.
They got back in the Jeep and pulled out onto the road toward the base.
Ever since he’d asked about a connection between General Davis and Sergei, he’d wanted to talk to the general.
There was a piece missing. He was sure of it.
All he had to do was look under a few more rocks and talk to some more people, and he might figure it out.
Mia said there was no reason for Davis to have dealings with Sergei, but Cullen wasn’t so sure. The fact that Davis knew of Orrin’s assignment was something else that bothered him.
Mainly because it was another person who could’ve betrayed his father. There were too many variables, too many things up in the air, too many people who could’ve turned on his dad. It all left him with a bad taste in his mouth.
Then there were The Saints. How long did he and Mia have at the base before the group showed up? The sooner they uncovered all they could and moved on, the better.
He glanced over at Mia, who seemed as lost in her thoughts as he was. Who was she really? Callie couldn’t say enough good things about her.
His firsts instinct was to have Callie dig into Mia’s background. Callie might get defensive and argue against it, mainly because all he had was his gut instinct and no hard facts.
Since Callie and Mia had worked together several times, Callie wouldn’t understand. Then again, the love she held for Orrin might change that.
He wasn’t sure who wanted to find Orrin more, him or Callie. Looking back, Cullen should’ve seen how important Callie had become to his father.
He and his brothers had left the ranch and Texas as soon as they could. All Orrin had was Callie. It was no wonder he doted on her and loved her like a daughter.
Mia drove them through the security checkpoint into the base without a problem. It wasn’t until she’d parked outside the hangar and turned off the ignition that she turned to him.
He raised a brow. “What is it?”
“What’s your plan? So far, you’ve just told me where you wanted to go. I’m part of finding Orrin, so I’d like you to clue me in on your thinking.”
“I don’t have a plan.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. What little part of a plan he had was to track down any lead that might take him to those responsible for Orrin’s betrayal and kidnapping.
She rolled her eyes. “That’s a load of shit. No way would Orrin raise any of his sons to go into a situation and not have a strategy in place.”
“I want to talk to General Davis first.”
She roughly opened the Jeep door and got out, slamming it behind her. He grinned at her show of outrage before he followed her inside the hangar.
He watched as she walked inside the office to her desk and began looking through papers. He used that time to move through the hangar alone. Skirting the bloodstains, he walked the circumference of the building.
Nothing was out of place. She kept the hangar neat and orderly. The tools were clean and each had a specific spot. Even the concrete floor was clean—aside from where the murders happened.
He turned to the plane. The Valkyrie. His gaze took in the red lettering. A man might’ve added an image of a scantily clad woman with a sword and a Viking helmet. But Mia had no such adornment.
She’d named the plane, but he thought the name was more about Mia. She didn’t seem to realize that a strong female putting her life on the line was rare and amazing.
He walked around the aircraft once more, though this time, his thoughts were on the flight to Russia and back. She’d mentioned that Orrin and his team had seemed on edge after the heist.
Did his father know they’d been betrayed? That was highly likely. Why then, had Orrin gone through with the mission? Unless his father hadn’t discovered the treachery until the bioweapon was stolen. Or possibly during the job.
That was going to make things even more difficult for Cullen. If only he could talk to his father. Then again, if Orrin were there, the government never would have called him and his brothers in.
He turned to the bloodstains. They were nearly black in color now, though there was no denying what it was. He knelt in front of the six spots. Not a single drag mark. No one had tried to crawl away, or even turn over.
They had been executed, just as Mia said.
He stood and moved behind the stains with his back to the large hangar door. It would’ve been open that day since Mia was supposed to pull the plane in.
Cullen looked over his shoulder. The doors were massive. Open, anyone could’ve seen in. The Russians hadn’t cared. It was as if they had known they could get away without being seen.
Or that it wouldn’t matter since someone on the base knew they were there.
He raised his arm, using his fingers as a gun, he pointed it at where Orrin’s team would have knelt with their hands behind their backs. One by one, he pretended to shoot all of them before dropping his arm to his side.
In that situation, no man as highly skilled as those on Orrin’s team would’ve waited around to be shot. After the first shot, they would’ve jumped up and tried to attack or run.
They would never have remained kneeling, waiting to die.
“There was a shooter for each of the six team members,” he surmised aloud.
He’d thought there was a small team of Russians who had somehow gotten the drop on Orrin and his men. Now, he was beginning to think that there had been eight to ten men.
That would be quite a feat to get that many men past the gate and into the base. There was no denying the men hadn’t just slipped in. They’d had help.
Someone let them in.
Someone who knew what they were after.
Someone who had the kind of power and pull where no questions would be asked.
More than ever, he wanted to speak with General Davis. Old friend of his father’s or not, he now suspected that Davis was helping The Saints.
It wouldn’t be the first time a general had been part of a murder or kidnapping. And Cullen doubted it would be the last.
That kind of power went to people’s heads. It was worse sometimes in the military because of the weighty decisions such men had to make. It was life or death.
And so easy for those men to get a God complex.
He sighed, not liking the feeling his findings caused him. The further he dug into everything, the more he realized he was neck deep in shit.
Cullen looked at Mia. She had her chin resting in her hand and was blinking her eyes rapidly. Her exhaustion was evident, but he couldn’t stop. Not yet. This time alone to look over everything was crucial to his investigation and might help save his father’s life.
But more importantly, it would keep Mia safe.
Walking back outside the hangar, he closed his eyes and listened. Even at night, the base buzzed with activity—the fighter jets landing from their night flights, the hum of vehicles driving around, the laughter of men as they worked.
His eyes opened. Everywhere he looked, he saw personnel. Mia’s hangar was one of the farthest away, but there was no hiding. Too many people either patrolled the area or had the hangar in their line of sight as they went about their business.
During the day, the number would more than double. All of this confirmed what he’d discovered earlier. The Saints had help.
He didn’t believe it was Sergei. The old Russian couldn’t hide his affection for Mia. Or the thread of concern when he’d learned that the Saints might be coming for her.
Cullen wouldn’t remove him from the list entirely. Sergei was just moved farther down. Though the Russian’s warning of what might come helped to clear him somewhat.
It was General Davis who interested Cullen the most right now. He would have to be careful with the general. Even if Davis wasn’t the one pulling the strings, his outrage at being called a conspirator could have him talking to his staff—one of which might very well be the culprit.
This wasn’t Cullen’s first encounter with such a muddle. There had been another mission in Iraq several years ago. The mistakes he’d made then wouldn’t be repeated now.
He turned on his heel and walked to Mia’s office. For long minutes after he entered, he stared at Mia, who had her head down on the desk, asleep.
Unable to help himself, he moved a lock of her long, black hair away from her cheek. She tempted him beyond reason. Maybe it was because he knew he couldn’t have her that made him ache for her so, but the longer he was with her, the more it grew.
At least, now he was sure she wasn’t part of the group responsible for kidnapping his father and murdering his aunt and uncle.
To learn that a member of your team, someone you trusted with your life, had betrayed you in such a way changed something vital within you. It altered you, shaped you into something hard and angry.
Cullen should know.
He dropped his arm and moved to the couch. Lowering himself, he rubbed his scratchy eyes with his thumb and forefinger.
Tomorrow was going to be another long day. He should rest while he could, because, at any moment, all of this could blow up in his face.
He dropped his head back and closed his eyes.
Before sleep claimed him, he pulled up a mental image of the map of Dover in his mind, remembering what he’d seen when he’d looked it over on the flight from Texas.
There were several ways he could get out of the city.
It wouldn’t take him long to get to New Jersey, Maryland, or Pennsylvania.
There was a cabin in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Maryland where he could lay low if needed. If it came to that . . . things weren’t looking good for the Loughmans.