Chapter Nineteen
Alanna’s mind was a mass of information flashing in rapid succession until her brain was tired and unfocused.
Mac dropped her at the QM side entrance and went to park the vehicle by the motor pool.
Alanna made her way inside, cleared the temporary security desk, and took the stairs to three.
Celissa had gone home early, but Bailey buzzed her in.
Electrical restored to all systems was the victory of the day.
“Quaid’s in Operations. Go on in. Did you get the trap set?” The woman’s keen gaze reminded her of early FBI days when everything was new.
“Yes, we’ll see if it works.” She peered through the window into Operations and found Quaid at his real desk – the working one – and he had a headset on, a flashing monitor in front of him, and a serious face.
Sometimes when all the money, the cars, the house, the security, and Niles were around him, it was easy to dismiss the hardworking, skilled man who kept QM growing and respected.
But not if one saw him like this. The man knew what he was doing.
Honestly, it was intimidating and thrilling in equal measures, and she wanted more.
“Bailey,” she called. “I’m going to check in with Whit. Can you tell Quaid I’m here?”
“Sure. Whit was at lunch today. Interesting guy.”
“He came to the dayroom for lunch? How was he?” Yesterday he could hardly stand.
“He looked okay. Better than the hospital for sure. Iron will if I had to guess.”
She didn’t know the half of it. This made it all the more imperative she talk to him and give him the parameters of what they expected. Everybody had to do their job.
She deposited her bag in Quaid’s office, claimed the knife from the desk drawer, and silently thanked Mackey for understanding the need to arm Whit.
She climbed the two flights of stairs, mumbling all the way.
She couldn’t control Whit. She never could.
Guilt. Begging. Logical arguments. Nothing worked on him.
Whit had a strict code and expected people to live by it.
Unfortunately, life rarely worked that way.
His desire for control came from years in combat and the loss of his mother to an abusive husband.
Whether he could have changed her death if he hadn’t joined the Army was beside the point.
His mother had pressured him to go, to start his life, and to move out of the cycle they were stuck in.
He’d promised to help her, then hadn’t been able to.
Alanna was convinced it was why he had stuck to her like sticker burrs while they were in the streets.
If he hadn’t, she wouldn’t be standing here.
After two training sessions and all the afternoon walking, her knees objected to the two flights of stairs. She knocked on 501 and waited.
Whit opened the door and huffed. “Wondered where you went to.” Dressed in new jeans and a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up, he made his way to the chair where he’d been watching television. He’d had a shower and a shave, dressed, then eaten.
She shut the door and went to sit on the bed. “You are obviously feeling better.”
“Not a complainer.”
“No, you’re not. But save your strength. Mackey has a plan, and he’ll tell you what they need you to do.”
“I thought we were both doing this thing.”
“I have a role and so do you.”
“I’ll back you.”
“I have backup, Whit.”
“Pretty boy won’t do it.”
“Pretty boy is more qualified than you. He’s done this for a living for a long time.”
“Pffft. Sure.”
Whit was falling for the same misperception she had at the beginning and it doubled her remorse for the way she’d misjudged Quaid. “He’s a top-notch warrior, Whit. Don’t make the mistake of underestimating him. And Mackey was Delta.”
“Damn door kickers. All brawn and no brains.”
Alanna rose, leaning in to smell his breath. Honestly, he acted like he’d been drinking. “What is wrong with you?”
“Nothing. Frustrated from sitting around. And you can quit sniffing. I never touch the stuff. That hasn’t changed.”
“Good to know, but you need more rest.”
“I’m fine. Tell me more about what we’re doing.”
Oh, that was a very bad idea. The man seriously could act like Rambo sometimes. Frankly, his skilled operator stage had passed for him about ten years ago. She had more active skills than he did.
“It’s the antibiotics and pain killers speaking, not a true healing.”
“Doesn’t matter. If it keeps me on my feet until we catch him, then my job here is done.”
If there was a way to renege on her agreement with him, she’d take it. She’d given her approval while lost in how grateful she was that he was alive and fresh in the memory of how he’d protected her all those years ago. She studied the lines in his face. “Who have you saved lately?”
“What do you mean?”
“Who on the streets have you saved lately? You never were without a kid or two tagging along.”
“Don’t really do that anymore. Everybody makes bad judgments on who you are if you have young’uns hanging on.”
“So you quit helping the kids.”
“Well, I went to work at the mission. I talk to a lot of them there, help with homework, give advice, and read to them. But it’s not like it used to be anymore.”
She understood, but it made her sad. Whit had been her lifeline in those days. When had she let that slip away? “I’m glad you’re alive. I was worried.”
“I admit I ran on the edge this time. Didn’t mean to. I didn’t want him to find me until I was ready for another round.”
He wasn’t ready still, but she’d never convince him.
“I wish you’d let me do this alone. You don’t need to put yourself at risk like this,” he mumbled. He rubbed his chest in an unconscious gesture.
“I could say the same thing to you.”
“Don’t. I want to do this. I wasn’t there before. I will be now come hell or high water.”
The advice from Mackey hit home. “This isn’t about before, Whit. It’s about now. He’s trying to kill me, to kill Quaid. We’re going to stop him.”
“He already tried for me. He missed again.”
“He missed in Iraq, too, didn’t he?”
Whit looked her over. The debate was obvious in his expression. “Yeah, a few times.”
Fury whipped through her. “And command didn’t do anything about it?”
“No. Didn’t believe me. My own fault. We had more than a few confrontations resulting in punishment.”
“You were lucky. He was actively killing people by then – I’m guessing since his youth.”
Whit frowned. “He didn’t have an off button that’s for sure.”
War zone equaled kill zone in Mercer’s mind. Not a hard connection to make.
“You should get some sleep. Someone will come for you when we’re ready.”
He grabbed her hand. “Don’t take any chances. Better he gets me again than you.”
“No. Stick to the plan. I trust Mackey. I trust Quaid. We’ll trap the man together. We’re giving him what he already wants and controlling ground zero when he comes for it.” That she repeated Mac’s exact phrasing told her the truth of what she was doing.
After several more minutes of back and forth, she wasn’t sure she convinced him, but she was hungry and needed Quaid. A man she hadn’t met a month ago was suddenly critical in her life. Was this how love worked?
She shied away from evaluating the idea and handed Whit the knife she’d promised.
“Thought you forgot.”
“No, I promised you. It’s out of QM’s armory. Mac said you could have it.” The woman inside would have hugged him, but the FBI agent opted for squeezing his arm and leaving. She had work to do on connecting with people. After, she promised herself. After.
&&&&&&&&&&
Instead of taking a room, Quaid and Alanna spent a couple hours in the armory deciding on weapons. They grabbed food in the day room, a catered meal of barbecued chicken and mac n’ cheese, then went to Quaid’s front office and the sofa there.
“You’re quiet.” Quaid shifted sideways on the soft surface and pulled her between his legs. She didn’t fight him. She leaned her head onto his shoulder and stared at the light patterns on the ceiling.
“Conversation with Whit.”
“About?”
“Iraq. Letting him be the only bait. He is focused on protecting me. He was too nonchalant about the new knife. I’m not sure including him was the right decision.”
Quaid squashed the criticism. It would play out as it did. “The objective of this is to be the point of the spear and take Mercer down. However that happens.”
“It’s what we will do. I think Whit’s forgotten all his military tactics. I even quoted Mackey.”
“With?”
“We’re giving Mercer what he already wants. Us. But were controlling ground zero when he comes.”
“That sums it up.” He rubbed his face in her hair before pulling back.
While it gave him comfort to have her close, it didn’t help his focus.
“There are cameras and team members monitoring every side of the building. We added a couple people to the rotation of the parking lot, but we have spotters in strategic spots and a sniper on the roof. Hunt’s in the building, too, with Cait so it wouldn’t trigger suspicion.
Manhunt has found three credible sightings.
Of course, he was gone when backup got there, but he may be letting himself be seen. ”
Her disgusted face said it all. “Does Mercer have enough surveillance information from watching us to note an increase?”
“Likely, but we can’t not take precautions. It wouldn’t make sense and would raise a red flag. I agree with Mac. Frank’s people will keep a low profile. Maybe Mercer won’t care. He might want you that bad.”
“Great.”
Quaid touched her face, rubbing at the worry lines under her eyes. “Sorry, didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
“I’m not fragile, but I am concerned this isn’t going to go the way we want it to.”
“Let me tell you a story.” He stretched and wrapped a leg around one of hers. As a distraction, it would have to do.
She poked him. “Talk. I need it.” She gave him a wane smile.
“I told you I met Hunt and Cait in Afghanistan.”
“Yes.”
“Want to hear about how I met Mac?”
Her eyes sparked. “Yes.”