Chapter 33
DECLAN
Boring-ass budget meetings are not my idea of a fun Friday evening. But this is exactly the dull distraction I need.
Since Wednesday I’ve been ignoring Charlie.
Only interacting for necessary business.
I shouldn’t have gone to check on her. The sooner I sever all friendly attachments, the sooner my heart and my head will accept that she is a distraction.
She should be with someone who can date her, give her the relationship she deserves, and not put her in danger.
The word “danger” hangs in my mind. Because I still haven’t been able to place the man I saw at the bar in Copenhagen. Something about him irks me. He didn’t match any of the images Ian handed me.
Danger because if we don’t find those black-market weapons, they will find someone: innocent victims.
My phone pings.
I look down and the word that has been on my mind flashes on my screen.
Charlie Ross
Danger.
I unlock it, not caring if Oliver and Finn think it’s rude.
I read Charlie’s text messages. Then I read them again.
Without preamble, I stand.
“Is everything OK?” Oliver asks.
Finn is aware of our secret operations, but he’s on a need-to-know basis. And he doesn’t need to know this until I figure out what is going on. I hand my unlocked phone to Oliver, then head to my office to put my laptop in my messenger bag and leave.
Oliver is moving quickly as well. He walks me out of the office and hands me back my phone. “Bring her back here and we’ll sort out her security,” he says. I give him a firm nod and do my best to stay calm. Charlie is in control of the situation if she can still message me.
Dammit. I should have pressed her on wearing a tracking dot. Or at least granting location access to me or Ian. I should have taken the time to show her some defensive maneuvers.
I get in my SUV and speed out of the parking lot. My bike is strapped onto the back because I was supposed to go for a training ride after work. A few weeks ago, I would have been annoyed to miss training to help Charlie. Now all I can think of is getting to her.
The GPS on my phone directs me to her quickly. Thankfully, traffic is light and the beach bar it leads me to isn’t overfull yet.
I scan the outdoor seating area and don’t spot Charlie.
No sign of her brown hair and blue-black glasses.
What was she wearing earlier? My mind provides an answer.
Dark green blouse and white jeans that hugged her ample curves.
Even when trying to avoid her, my mind was still cataloging all it could.
I enter the bar discreetly. It’s open-air so there isn’t a door to walk through, but I want to be cautious. I’m not sure what kind of danger Charlie thinks she is in. My instinct is to find her and throw her over my shoulder to bring her to safety, but I have to think strategically.
I stand near the entrance and do a quick survey of the people around me. The bar is filling, people are talking, the noise level so high I won’t be able to hear Charlie.
My eyes find her at the bar; she is sitting there next to . . .
Blaed Johannson.
My mind catches on several things at once.
Blaed used to be in my unit. I haven’t seen him since I separated from the navy. There is no way this is a coincidence.
With this assumption, my mind finally places the man we saw in Copenhagen.
Without his beard, I might have recognized him sooner.
Someone X.C. introduced me to once in passing.
An old friend of his from basic training who had been stationed across the world.
The man, Shane Ramedia, must have been recruited by the Order as well.
Two guys I used to serve with both now working against FIRE?
Was this connection somehow exploited for the trap that was laid in Osaka?
How could Blaed betray me and X.C. like that?
I watch Charlie and Blaed. She’s smiling as he talks animatedly, then she laughs at whatever joke he just finished. They look like a happy couple on a date. Blaed is flirting with her. It’s obvious. My fists clench. Some caveman coding in my DNA wants to get them as far apart as possible.
Charlie is generally a trusting person. I might have trust issues, but I can easily surmise Blaed is working for the Order and therefore a threat.
I hate that my mistrust is accurate this one time.
I wish this was a case of jealousy or unrequited feelings.
But it is more. If Blaed is on a mission, he could be trying to get information from Charlie, or, worse, apprehend her.
The crowd swells and grows louder around me, bringing me out of my inner thoughts. I remind myself that Charlie sent a help signal. She must sense he is dangerous. She must be playing along for the sake of keeping herself safe in this crowded place.
I move toward the side exit and pull out my phone. I send off a text to Charlie.
Declan Davidson
You need to freshen up in the bathroom.
That’s all I send. There’ll be time for us to go over the details. Right now, my focus is on extraction. I wait for Charlie to approach.
After a minute, Charlie makes her way over to me. We lock eyes and her shoulders relax. A small smile, a genuine one, forms on her lips. She lets out a deep breath.
Charlie opens her mouth to speak and all I want to do is scoop her into my arms and silence her with a kiss once more. It’s not the worst way to keep Ms. A Million Questions quiet. Instead, I indicate she should remain silent with a sharp gesture across my throat.
I point to the exit and she follows. I stay behind her, my hand on her shoulder, leading her out of the bar and to my vehicle.
Charlie stays silent, having learned from the incident in Copenhagen. I want to ask her so many questions. What she was thinking talking to Blaed? Is this the first time she saw him? Have they met before? How did she suspect she was in danger?
But I save all of it. Because there is no way Blaed Johannson just stumbled on Charlie Ross at a random tiki bar. That I can conclude on my own.
I drive down the road, the Gulf of Mexico to our right. The sun is setting and the water, while beautiful, is blinding. About a mile later, I pull over into a public lot.
I get out of the car and Charlie follows me. I grab a spare towel from the back, one I usually use after a training ride, and march over to the beach. My shoes will be full of sand. I’m not dressed for this location, but it’s our best bet right now.
The sound of the waves and the gulls is loud enough to distract me from all I want to say to Charlie. First things first, I need to check for any planted devices.
The thought of Blaed touching her and planting a tracker on her body makes my own skin crawl. I decide to check her bag first.
I lay out the towel and gesture for her purse. Charlie gives me a confused look. I’m too angry to do anything but scowl at her until she hands it to me.
I turn the enormous bag over and the contents spill out. Her wallet. Cell phone. A pack of gum. Receipts. Loose change. A tampon. And then, unmissable: a tracking dot. Small but powerful.
I hold it up to show Charlie. She takes a half-step back. I’m not sure if she is scared of me and the ire I know I must be showing or the device itself.
I turn sharply and fling the device as hard as I can, throwing it into the Gulf of Mexico. Where I wish I could throw Blaed, the still unknown mole, and whoever else is involved in their schemes.
I need to calm down. The anger coursing through me is akin to what I contended with before I completed basic training. It’s what I felt immediately after I was burned on that botched mission in Osaka. It’s a dangerous feeling and I need to keep my wits about me right now.
I turn back and Charlie is kneeling over the towel and putting everything back into her purse. I should help her. But I still need a moment.
How can she not understand why I am so mad?
Blaed is as well trained as I am but has no moral qualms whatsoever about kidnapping, murder, or anything else.
How can she not understand that I care about her and seeing her next to such a dangerous person scares me?
I want to scream at her and hold her in equal measure.
I stride over to her and she looks up. “Do we still have to be quiet now?” Her voice is low, soft.
“No, but I’d appreciate it.”
“Declan,” Charlie stands, leaving her purse on the towel, “I reached out to you because I was terrified. He knew things about me that I had never told him. I went through my mind for everything I’d said to him over the past month, but I never told him.”
Charlie’s words hit me like a lead pipe. All the trust I’d invested in her threatens to crumble. They’ve interacted before, which means he could have planted that device at their first encounter. “When did you two meet?”
“Ana and I met him after my first week and then I ran into him again a week ago.” It’s a punch to the gut. All this time I’d been falling for Charlie and Blaed was already moving in on her. “Are you mad at me about this? That someone planted a device on me?”
“You should have been smarter about this!” I yell at her.
Charlie takes a step back. I immediately regret my tone, but I am so angry. That Blaed was so close to her. That she looked happy with him. No, that was a ruse, I remind myself.
“This guy used to be in the same unit as me, and he was not one of the honorable ones.”
Charlie doesn’t respond. I can see the implications settling in.
She didn’t know. How could she have suspected that first week when she was in the dark about our clandestine operations?
Still, I look away from her, down at the sand.
I put my hands on my hips and shake my head.
Because I don’t want to know the answer to this next question, but I have to ask it.
My stomach turns at the thought of what a “yes” might mean.
“Has he been to your apartment?” I try not to yell at her again, but I know my tone is harsh.