Chapter 2
Rogue and Swede spent the day trying to track Onyx, or at least this one operative of Onyx. She must have lain low all day, refusing to have her face pass in front of any surveillance cameras or use her burner phone. She’d have been smart to turn it off or get rid of it altogether.
He and Swede had found her through facial recognition and by following her phone number whenever she’d used it. The other hunters had to have used the same technology.
Since they hadn’t found her all day, either she’d gotten smart about being seen, or the other group hunting her had found her.
Rogue hoped it was the former, not the latter.
He arrived at Letty’s Diner at the junction of Highway 71 and 620 at sixteen thirty—four-thirty for the non-military types. He scouted the entire location, checking nearby buildings, places one could hide, the number of exits associated with the diner and the distance to the highways nearby.
When he was satisfied he understood the exterior, he parked his rental SUV behind the diner and walked around to the front.
He entered the retro diner with its shiny aluminum exterior, 1950s-style tables and bright red vinyl booth seats.
He opted for a corner booth and ordered a coffee to last the first fifteen minutes.
The diner was almost empty, with one waitress, two truckers at the counter and a male cook Rogue could see through the window into the kitchen.
At fifteen minutes until the meeting time, he ordered a hamburger with fries and a chicken sandwich with fries, a strawberry milkshake and a chocolate one. “Could you have them delivered after five o’clock?” he asked the waitress.
“Not a problem. It’ll be at least twenty minutes anyway. Are you expecting a guest?”
“I hope,” he responded.
The waitress gave him a kind smile. “Blind date or someone you met on an online dating app?”
He nodded. “Something like that.”
“Well, I hope she’s everything she says she is.” With another smile, the waitress hurried off to take the order to the kitchen.
Rogue just hoped she showed up and didn’t have a full team of combat soldiers hot on her tail.
At exactly five o’clock, a slender woman in a black T-shirt, matching black yoga pants, tennis shoes and a lightweight jacket emerged from the hallway leading to the bathrooms and a back exit.
Not the blonde he was expecting, but a woman with a black ball cap, a jet-black ponytail hanging out the back of the cap and sunglasses hiding her eyes and much of her face.
She turned her head right and left as if taking in the room and then smiled at the waitress like any other suburban housewife after a trip to the gym.
She turned and walked past the men paying their bill at the counter and headed for Rogue in the far corner booth.
Still smiling, she slid into the seat across from him. “So glad we could meet like this. Did you have to wait long?” she asked loud enough for others to hear. She parted the edges of her jacket enough that he could see the handgun tucked into a shoulder holster.
“I haven’t been here long,” he responded. “And yes, I’m hungry.” He opened his jacket enough that she could see his Glock tucked neatly into its holster on his belt. “I hope you don’t mind, but I placed an order. It’ll be here soon.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful.” She closed her jacket and nodded. “It’s nice when a man thinks ahead. I’m starving.”
“As I said on my profile, I’m Rourke Logan. My team calls me Rogue. It’s nice to meet you in person. You look exactly like your online picture.”
The waitress appeared beside his “date”. “Oh, good. I was getting worried that his date wouldn’t show up. Nothing kills a guy’s ego more than getting stood up. What can I get you to drink, honey? Your man ordered milkshakes, but you might want something else.”
“A milkshake sounds great,” she smiled up at the waitress. “Could I get some water as well?”
“Sure. And I think your order is almost ready. I’ll be right back with both.” The waitress left them and ducked into the kitchen. The truckers exited the building, leaving Rogue and the Onyx operator alone.
“Show me your credentials,” the woman across from him demanded.
Rogue pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and fished out his real driver’s license and the SOS badge Royce had insisted on making for the team after they’d turned in the ones the government had issued.
He could have shown her one of his fake driver’s licenses, but the haunted circles beneath her eyes made him go with his gut and be completely truthful and transparent about who he was.
She studied both forms of identification. “Stealth Operations Specialists. They disbanded from the government and reformed as an independent agency fairly recently, didn’t they?” She handed him his IDs.
“You’ve done your homework,” he said as he tucked his driver’s license and badge into his wallet and placed it into his back pocket.
“Doing my homework keeps me alive,” she said. “Why would SOS send someone after me?”
Rogue’s lips pressed together. “They didn’t. The current administration did—through unofficial channels. My boss, Royce Fontaine, received a message to eliminate Onyx, the assassin responsible for Senator Morales’s murder.”
The woman’s face hardened. “I didn’t kill Senator Morales.” She glanced away. “I was sent there to do the job, but I couldn’t. That’s when they burned me.”
“I saw your evidence wall,” Rogue said softly. “I believe you. The outstanding question is who did kill the senator, and why did they leave a calling card—a piece of black onyx—that implicated you?”
“Why do you care?” she asked. “What do you want from me?”
“The truth.” Rogue reached out to touch her hand. “And evidence to show who’s running this operation.”
She tipped her head back, her chin at a stubborn angle. “And then what? You turn me in?”
He gripped her hands and held them steady, but loosely enough she could escape. “Then we expose this operation and the people behind it.”
‘Will it be enough?” she asked, her fingers curling into his.
“If not,” he said, his eyes narrowing, “then we burn the entire operation to the ground.”
She stared into his eyes. “Why should I trust you?”
“Because I sent you the message to avoid the motel. I could’ve let them take you.”
She nodded, her eyes still narrow. “But you didn’t.”
He squeezed her hands. “And you’re here now. I have to assume you’re desperate enough to take a chance.”
“You’re right.” She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment before opening them again. “It’s been a long time since I’ve trusted anyone.”
He still held her hands, his gaze meeting hers. “I don’t expect you to trust a stranger. But I do want to help.”
She nodded, drew in a breath and let it out slowly.
The door into the kitchen swung open. The waitress backed through, carrying a tray with their food and drinks.
“See?” she said as she sailed toward them.
“Five minutes after five, on the nose.” She winked at the woman in the booth whose name Rogue still didn’t know.
“He wanted to make sure you got here first. Such a considerate man.” She laid the tray on a stand and lifted one of the plates.
“Who wants the chicken sandwich and who wants the burger?”
Rogue nodded toward Keira. “Lady’s choice.”
“I’ll take the chicken,” she said.
The waitress set the chicken sandwich and fries in front of Rogue’s guest and the burger in front of him. “Chocolate or Strawberry?”
“Strawberry,” Onyx said.
“A woman who knows what she wants. Gotta love that.” She set the milkshakes, two glasses of water and a bottle of catsup on the table. “Do you need anything else?”
Rogue cocked an eyebrow. “It’s up to my date.”
His “date” shook her head and smiled at the waitress. “I have everything I need. Thank you.”
“I’ll be in the kitchen folding napkins,” the waitress said. “Yell if you need anything.”
After the waitress left, Rogue nodded toward the plate of food. “Eat first. We can talk after.” She was thin and had dark circles beneath her eyes. She probably hadn’t slept or eaten well in the three weeks she’d been on the run.
Onyx ate half of her sandwich and several fries before she sat back with the milkshake in one hand.
After she shot a glance toward the kitchen and then out the window, she leaned forward and spoke in a quiet tone.
“My name is Keira Davies. I was recruited out of a very bad situation when I was seventeen. The social worker said it was a special program that would teach me skills. If I didn’t choose it, I’d go back into the foster system.
” She snorted. “I’d escaped that disaster once and lost my baby sister to monsters.
I wasn’t going back there. I chose door number one, the special program. That’s how I became part of Onyx.”
“What exactly is Onyx?” Rogue asked.
“An organization that converts girls...” her eyes narrowed, and her jaw tightened, “...into weapons.”
“Girls?”
She nodded. “I saw some as young as eight, but none older than thirty. Those, like me, who were in their twenties have been in Onyx since they were minors.”
“Children.” Rogue shook his head, his lips pressing tightly together. “Where did they get them?”
“I was brought to the program by a social worker. Others were snatched from the streets outside their schools. Most were from lower-income neighborhoods throughout the country. Many came from abusive homes. Kids with traumatic pasts. Throwaway kids like me.”
Anger burned in Rogue’s chest. “No child is throwaway.”