Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Admiral Storm North sat back in his chair and stared at the doorway Jane Hamilton had just exited. He had no idea what it was about her that had caught his attention this morning. He’d talked to her frequently over the last year…but for some reason, he hadn’t truly seen her until just now.
And he liked what he saw.
Maybe it was all his SEALs finding women of their own lately and him becoming more and more aware of his age. Maybe it was everything that had happened with Phantom and Kalee, and how hard they’d fought for their happy ending.
He didn’t know. But when he’d looked up and seen Jane smiling shyly at him from his doorway, something clicked deep inside him.
Storm was happy being a workaholic. He’d enjoyed being a SEAL and doing what he could to keep his country safe. And he was thrilled to take his current position when he’d gotten too old to be an effective SEAL. Liked solving problems at work. But…
He was lonely.
Going home to his two-story townhouse, making his solitary dinner, watching TV, and going to bed by himself day in and day out was hard. He enjoyed being around people. Having no one to talk to, to share his day with, was wearing thin.
And for just a second when Jane walked in, he thought he’d recognized the same yearning for company in her eyes that he saw in his own mirror each morning.
But more than that, for the first time…he saw how Jane’s cheeks flushed slightly when she smiled at him.
How her breathing increased slightly as they talked, how she bit her lip as if she was nervous.
All signs pointing to the fact that Jane wasn’t unaffected by him.
His clumsy attempt to find out if she was married was embarrassing, but her answer was more than satisfying.
Storm liked that she had enough self-esteem to say her husband had been lucky when they were together.
He liked that she’d called him on his own lack of taking leave.
One, because she could obviously think fast on her feet, and two, because it meant she was paying attention to his comings and goings.
When he’d first been moved to the building, Storm had researched all of the contractors who worked there.
He liked to know who was around him and what their backgrounds were.
Pulling the details about Jane from the depths of his mind wasn’t hard.
She’d been working as a contractor in the mail room for decades, just like she’d said.
She’d worked her way up from an hourly clerk to manager.
She was fifty-one, with an impeccable work record.
But chatting with her that morning had told him so much more than a piece of paper ever could.
She’d been married and divorced, had a grown daughter who she obviously had a tumultuous relationship with, at least when she was a teenager.
And, if he wasn’t mistaken, she had more than a passing interest in him.
Though he couldn’t say why, for certain.
Storm knew he was good-looking. He wasn’t conceited, but when he’d been active on the teams, he’d had his share of women flirt with him because of what he did or how he looked. However, since he’d retired from active missions and transitioned into his current position, he hadn’t had time for women.
That didn’t mean they still didn’t try to reel him in. Storm couldn’t count the number of wives who’d hit on him, who’d made it clear they were okay with seeing him without letting their spouses know.
Storm didn’t want to sleep with a married woman. Didn’t want to sneak around. He wanted a woman he could be proud to be with, who would be equally thrilled to walk by his side. And for once, he wanted to do the pursuing.
For most of his life, he hadn’t had to work for a woman’s attention.
They came to him, and he could pick and choose which he wanted to be with.
And in all honesty, it had always made him feel somewhat sleazy.
The fact that Jane Hamilton had known him for quite some time and hadn’t said much more than “good morning” and “hello,” despite her obvious interest, intrigued him.
It had been a while since he’d had a challenge, and Storm had a feeling Jane would be more than worth the effort.
He wasn’t a fall-in-love-at-first-sight guy, though, no matter that he was feeling more energized and excited about pursuing a woman than he’d felt in his entire life.
So he’d take things slow. Get to know Jane over the next few weeks.
Flirt with her a little and feel her out.
See if he was reading things with her correctly.
Then, when the time was right and he wasn’t knee deep in any projects at work, he’d ask her out. See if they had chemistry outside of the naval base.
Happy with his plan to take things slow, Storm reached for his mail and got to work.
Jane wanted to hold on to the giddy feeling she’d gotten from talking to Storm that morning, but duty called. When she got back down to the mail room on the basement level of the building, she’d been pulled in one direction, then another. She’d been putting out fires ever since her delivery.
An admiral was upset that he hadn’t received a report from someone across the base he thought he should’ve received that morning.
Two of her employees had called in sick…
one of which Jane knew she’d have to deal with and probably fire for excessive absences.
And they’d received an inordinately large amount of mail that had to be sorted and delivered that afternoon.
They were slammed, and Jane had no time to dissect the conversation she’d had with Storm earlier. Duty called.
Jane was helping sort the mail after lunch when a package on the conveyer belt caught her attention.
At first glance, nothing about it seemed out of place.
It was about half the size of a shoebox with only a little bit of tape holding it together.
But when Jane looked at the way it was addressed, she realized the shipping label looked odd.
There was nothing indicating who it was from, an excessive amount of postage in the corner that had clearly been canceled by hand, the box was marked “confidential,” and it was addressed to Rear Admiral Creasy…
except his last name was misspelled as Creasey, with an extra e.
The closer she looked, the more everything about the package screamed suspicious, and Jane had been through way too many training sessions about bombs and anthrax being sent through the mail to dismiss the package as nothing serious.
If it was delivered to the rear admiral and something happened to him, Jane would never forgive herself.
Knowing she was supposed to clear the room, alert the authorities, turn off the air conditioning—just in case—and not touch or move the package until it could be examined, Jane began to set things in motion.
This would delay all mail delivery for hours, possibly for an entire day, but it couldn’t be helped.
If this was a bomb or a biochemical agent being sent through the mail, nothing else mattered, including her timetable.
But just as Jane turned to alert everyone they had to go into lockdown protocol, one of her employees pushed a large number of boxes and envelopes down the conveyor belt toward her.
The box she’d just been examining teetered on the edge of the sorting table and, acting instinctively, Jane reached out to catch it.
Everything after seemed to happen in slow motion.
The box began to fall.
Jane caught it in midair.
The jostling of the box obviously detonated something inside, because the top flew off, and an orange caustic agent sprayed into the air, covering Jane’s face and arms.
She immediately began to cough and gag, but did her best to stay calm—the hardest thing she’d ever done in her life.
“Holy shit, Jane, what the hell?” one of her employees exclaimed.
“Don’t touch me,” she managed, her eyes squeezed tightly closed. Between coughs, she got out, “Code black. Call the naval police and initiate a code black!”
Thankfully, her employees knew exactly what to do.
A code black was the highest level of emergency the mail room could declare.
It meant there was some sort of chemical leak and all personnel should remove themselves from the immediate vicinity.
Her office had trained for this exact scenario time and time again—but Jane had never thought she’d be contaminated.
Hearing everyone rushing out of the room, she pictured where she was in the sorting room and blindly made her way toward the wall behind her.
She didn’t want to touch anything, because that could spread the contaminate that was all over her hands, but with every second that passed, it got harder and harder to breathe.
She had to reach the decontamination station.
Her employees had all left, as they’d been trained, and she was on her own.
Feeling as if her lungs were going to explode, Jane coughed some more, then threw up on the floor where she stood. Everything hurt, and it felt as if her face was on fire.
Falling to her knees, she tried to get oxygen into her burning lungs. For all she knew, her skin was melting off. She couldn’t feel anything, couldn’t make it to decontamination. The only thing she could do was kneel on the floor and retch.
Storm was reading a report about an increase in hostilities in a small country in Africa when his admin assistant stuck his head inside his office.
“Sorry to bother you, Sir, but there’s a code black in the mail room.”
“Fuck. Code black? Are you sure?” he asked.
“Yes, Sir. The building’s being evacuated. We need to go.”
Storm surged up from his desk and headed for the door. All he could think about was the fact that Jane worked in the mail room.