Chapter Three
“H ow expensive am I ?” Colonel Maximillian asked, one corner of his mouth crooking upward.
His smile melted something cold and hard inside Ali. She couldn’t relax her guard around many people, but Max was different. It frustrated the hell out of her sometimes, but he was honest with her. He didn’t play games or tell her what he thought she wanted to hear. She’d had enough of that to last her a lifetime.
It didn’t hurt that he radiated confidence and intelligence. Unless he was in the shooting range or in combat training. There he looked like a duck out of water, ungainly and awkward.
The contrast was jarring. Max was an irresistible puzzle, one she was determined to solve.
“More than what I’d pay for you, that’s for sure.”
“Sometimes I’m not sure you like me at all,” he said with a glance her way.
She had to work to keep a smile off her face. “Of course I like you—you’re a US Army asset.”
He sighed, as if she was trying his patience. “Nothing is ever going to be simple with you, is it?”
The question seemed mostly rhetorical, but she answered anyway. “People appreciate the things they work for,” she told him, using the same tone her grandmother had used when she told Alicia the same thing during her first year in the army.
“Will our entire conversation be in fortune cookie–sized sound bites?” he complained.
Her facade cracked and she laughed. “God, I hope not.”
His sense of humor surprised her, always had. He looked so buttoned up and stuffy, but he wasn’t either. He was smart, funny, and wasn’t afraid of suggestions from lower ranks. She’d been impressed by his ability to focus on multiple goals and achieve them. He was relentless when hunting a disease or containing an outbreak, and frequently got his hands dirty with jobs other men in his position would have given to an underling.
Max didn’t assign tasks to anyone else that he wouldn’t do himself, and he didn’t waste his people or their time on meaningless work.
His inability to defend himself worried her. He was so competent at everything else, she suspected his personal life had something to do with it.
The shit his ex-wife put him through would have turned a saint into a serial killer. Ali had witnessed exactly one meeting between them. They were outside a restaurant where Max and Ali’s father were meeting for a meal and a chance to talk away from the base. It was the first time she’d met Max, and his ex was screaming at him about money and shoving him. He said something low and calm, and she punched him in the face.
Twice.
Ali had run toward the pair, intent on stopping the raging woman, but Max had waved her off, so she got her phone out and hit record.
He didn’t do a damn thing to defend himself, other than attempt to talk to his ex. The woman finally left when Ali had shouted at her to stop. The cops showed up ready to arrest him for assault an hour later, until she showed them her video recording. They urged him to see a lawyer, but she was pretty sure he hadn’t.
Now, he led her through a set of closed double doors. They walked about five feet down a hallway until they reached a row of internal windows. On the other side of the glass was a laboratory. She recognized microscopes, but not much else.
There were four people working inside the room, all of them in space suit–style outfits with hoses extending from the back of their helmets up to the ceiling.
“They have their own air supply?” she asked.
“Yes. The room’s air supply is also filtered—scrubbed, really—to ensure that no pathogens get out.”
What was in that room was as dangerous as any other weapon. “Do you work in there?”
“Sometimes. I have a fair amount of administrative work that cuts into my lab time.”
“How many different pathogens do you have in there?”
“It varies.” He was in his comfort zone here, relaxed and self-assured.
The best time to ask a tough question. With a bounty on his head, she needed all the intel she could get.
“Why don’t you like guns?”
“Because I...” His voice trailed off and he turned to look at her. “I became a doctor to save people, not put holes in them.” His voice sounded calm and controlled, yet she could see a hint of something that was not in his eyes.
He turned away to stare through the glass again. “I don’t like violence in any of its forms.”
“Why did you join the army, then?”
He grinned at her as if everything was normal. As if he hadn’t been in the grip of some negative emotion only moments ago. “It does seem counterintuitive, doesn’t it?” He extended his hand toward the lab. “This is where real work is being done. Not in the research labs at the Centers for Disease Control. We’re on the front line of any attack using biological weapons. We can respond faster, diagnose and begin treating in hours. Not days. Hours .”
She took a moment to process that. He saw identifying and treating disease as battle? Disease as the enemy? “Your weapons are antibiotics and antiviral drugs?”
His whole face lit up. “Yes.” He patted one of her shoulders and gave it an excited shake. “That’s it exactly.” He stared at her for a long moment, then seemed to remember he had his hand on her and abruptly let go.
For a long time she had thought Max wasn’t a warrior, that he didn’t have the skills or stomach for combat. She’d been wrong. His field of combat was simply different than hers.
Her mistake.
One she’d fix, starting now.
She glanced around and noted discreetly placed security cameras. “What security precautions are in place for the lab?”
“Good question. Eugene can give you the particulars and have an ID badge made for you so you can move throughout the lab.”
“Those doors we came through are locked?”
“At all times.”
She nodded. “Good. If you don’t mind, I’ll familiarize myself with lab security and provide anything else you or your assistant need from me to have me integrated with your group. I’d like to evaluate your hand-to-hand skills later today or tonight.”
“They’re no better than the last time you wiped the floor with me,” he said with a sigh.
“I wasn’t in charge of your training the last time. I need more information so I can create a program for you.”
“You mean, you’re not going to embarrass me in front of a couple dozen soldiers once, but daily?”
“Any soldier who laughs, comments, or smiles too wide will get his own chance for embarrassment. After the first week, no one will bother watching anymore.”
He winced. “I’m going to be all over the internet, and that crap never disappears.”
“No photos allowed. Anyone taking them will face severe penalties.” She stopped to frown at him. “You know that.”
He pursed his lips like he tasted something awful. “Doesn’t help. You know how clumsy I am.”
She’d thought his reluctance stemmed from a desire to maintain his dignity in public, but there was something else in his voice. Maybe this wasn’t all about his ego. “I’ve trained people who’ve never held a gun in their life to become expert snipers. You’re smart and you know how to use your hands. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be able to hit your target and defend yourself as well as any soldier.”
He stopped and turned to face her, his expression cold. “Have you ever considered the possibility that a man might not want to acquire some of those skills? Might find them at odds with his personal beliefs?” He strode off before she could respond.
When facing an enemy who wanted to destroy you or take what you have, personal beliefs were irrelevant. She followed and ended up at Eugene’s desk. Max had retreated into his own office with the door closed.
“Your boss is very good at shutting people down when he’s not happy,” she said, staring at that closed door.
“He can be intimidating,” Eugene agreed. “But he’s also the best man I’ve ever worked for, in or out of the military. He’s had my back in a couple of tricky situations.”
“Who has his back?”
“Your da...” He cleared his throat. “General Stone.”
“Has Max needed the general’s help often?” Most people who were good at their job pissed someone off somewhere along the way.
Eugene froze for a second before swallowing and saying, “A few times. Some regular army types. Not everyone agrees with how Colonel Maximillian runs the team. There’s been some grumbling since Akbar started his personal war on us. Somehow information has leaked out and we don’t know who’s doing it or how. But it keeps happening. Akbar is always one step ahead of us.”
Leaked out ? Information doesn’t leak, it’s transmitted. If someone with access to information in this lab was sharing that info, they had a big problem.
“Let’s work on that.” She liked this kid. He was a good bridge between the team and the rest of the army. “I need to see all the specs on the security for this building. I’d like to find out if you think there are any holes in it or if any of the staff who work here have mentioned any deficiencies.”
Eugene’s eyebrows rose. “Okay. Con...Sergeant Connor Button was going to look at everything and give us feedback, but he got called out to an outbreak and hasn’t had time since.” The kid’s voice trailed off. “I don’t think it’s a technical issue. I’ve checked the hardware.”
“You think it’s a person,” Ali said slowly.
“Yeah, but I literally have no idea who.” Eugene’s right hand closed into a fist.
“Start with a list of everyone who has access and permission to access information about the lab, the staff, and what the team is doing. It’s probably longer than you think.”
“Yeah?”
She smiled at him. “My job is to protect Colonel Maximillian. Not just the man, but everything he’s accomplished. This team is important. I want to be proactive rather than reactive. Make sense?”
The kid sat up a little straighter. “Yes, ma’am, I mean, Stone.”
“Good. So, tell me something about the team that I don’t know.”
* * *
C olonel Maximillian was clumsy, awkward, and ungainly.
They’d been sparring for about fifteen minutes and he seemed two seconds behind every move she made. No matter how hard she put him down, he didn’t get angry or the least bit frustrated. It was almost like he wanted to lose. Wanted to have bruises all over his body from getting thrown, tripped, and tossed to the mats. She’d never worked with anyone this hesitant, like he was doing it on purpose, and it was starting to piss her off.
She flipped him onto his back, then stepped back to give him room to regain his feet. “Attack me,” she ordered.
He froze and frowned. “I’ve been attacking you for over an hour now.”
Like hell. “No. Really attack me.”
He shrugged helplessly. “Do you want me to say it in another language?” Then he said it to her in French.
Her hold on her patience slipped and she stepped forward. He responded by moving a pace backward, but she changed her direction with her next move.
He hesitated, his body jerking one way then another as he tried to change direction also, but it was too late. She swept his feet out from under him, then grabbed one arm as she pounced, forcing him onto his back. A twist of his arm and he was under her control.
They stared at each other for a couple of seconds, then she got up. “Is it because I’m a woman?” If it was, she’d misjudged him.
“Pit me against anyone here, the result will be the same,” he told her in a low tone. “I can’t attack anyone.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
He ran both hands through his short hair in a jerky motion. “Both.”
Was he serious? She wanted to shake him, order him to pull his head out of his ass. She tripped him, trapping him on his belly with an arm twisted behind his back. She leaned down to ask in his ear, “Why the hell did you join the army?”
“I told you before, this is where the work I want to do is being done,” he said coldly.
She got off him and allowed him up. “You’re an adult and this isn’t the Boy Scouts. You knew you’d have to defend yourself, possibly even kill, yet you still chose the army. Why?” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. “And don’t give me a verbal runaround. I want to know the real reason.”
There was no hesitation as he snarled, “Defending other people, keeping them safe, stopping harm before it can happen is why I joined. I just happen to do all that without using my fists or a gun.”
He meant it. She could see it on his face, and that certainty of purpose cooled her anger into something close to respect. “Even knights in armor had to do more than just stand in the way of an adversary. They had to fight too. You have a price on your head and Akbar is gunning for you. You need to learn this.”
He closed his eyes and breathed deep for a moment. When he opened his eyes, his expression was composed. “I’m trying, I really am. Maybe I just need more time, more practice before this kind of fighting—” he gestured at the room at large “—feels more natural to me.”
“That might work,” she said slowly, reviewing their conversation in her head. Something he said niggled at her. “You said can’t and won’t attack anyone. I get won’t , the whole Hippocratic Oath thing, but why can’t you attack me?” she asked, tilting her head to one side.
He stood there, looking at her like she’d asked him an impossible question. “Have you completed your assessment?” he asked instead of answering. “Or would you like to beat me up some more.” He was breathing harder now than when she was pounding the crap out of him, and the way he said the words beat me up . Like they were razor blades slicing their way out of his mouth.
Holy shit . She should have asked him why a long time ago.
“I’m done,” she said, managing to maintain her even tone by the skin of her teeth. Then she watched him walk away.
Could it be that his problem lay in the words beat me ? At some point in his life, had someone hurt this man and he’d decided it was his fault?
If she was going to get anywhere with Max, she had to find out.
The first place she went was her father’s office. He was busy and she had exactly two minutes to talk to him. She didn’t waste any of it.
“Sir, I think I may know why Colonel Maximillian has such a problem performing his combat skills.”
“Already? That didn’t take long.”
Fixing the issue was going to take a lot longer. “Was he abused as a child?”
Her father stared at her, frozen for two seconds. “Fuck.”
“Is that a yes or no?”
“It’s an I don’t know .” He sat back in his chair. “But it would explain a lot. What leads you to think he was abused?”
“I just tossed the man around the mats for an hour. He can’t make himself attack me, or anyone else for that matter. It’s not just an abhorrence of violence. He can’t make himself do it. I think he’d be physically sick if he accidently did knock me down. I thought it was because I’m a woman, but now I don’t think that’s it.”
“Talk to him.”
“I plan to, but I thought I would start with you to see if you were aware of anything that might contribute to his behavior.”
Her father sat back, his expression contemplative. “His ex said he beat her. There wasn’t any evidence to support her claims, but even an accusation of that can damage a man’s reputation. I think he gave her everything she wanted just to shut her up.”
“I remember. I’ll dig a bit more into that.” Ali left her father’s office and after getting permission from base security, logged in to a computer and checked to see if Max or his ex-wife had any sort of criminal record. Both of them were clean. Except...Max had a sealed family court record with an odd flag on it. Something had happened when he was a kid.
Getting those opened was damned near impossible, but that didn’t stop her from being curious.
When she put in a call to a lawyer friend and asked about the flag, she was told they meant a major case crime, like kidnappings, armed robberies, or murders. The child was somehow involved, almost always as a victim. The files were sealed to protect the identity of the child.
Ali ended the call and headed to her quarters, picking through everything she knew about the colonel.
Protective almost to the point of paranoia.
Obsessive about safety.
A workaholic who leads his team from the front.
Unwilling and unable to hurt anyone else.
What the hell had happened to Max?
How was she going to get him to tell her?