Prologue #2
Only, for Elizabeth, that good place was back home. The bottom line was that she wasn’t getting laid. In fact, one of the cold-hard truths was that she was doing very little of that, and as time went on with this nut on the loose, they suspected that would be the norm.
She wasn’t home with the men, and her mind was on staying one step ahead of the killer—not getting naked under a man.
Priorities.
Truthfully, Elizabeth was under an exorbitant amount of stress over this. The media was up her ass over The Grave Robber, and it was only a matter of time before the asshole started slipping them information.
That would suck.
Oh, but they all knew it was on the horizon. When that finally happened, the cat would be out of the bag.
She’d warned the family, and once Elizabeth called it, it was just a matter of time.
Hopefully, they’d have some common sense and leave her the hell alone.
She was a woman on the edge as it was, and the media only added to that mayhem.
No one in their right mind wanted to tangle with her.
When the pilot came over the intercom, she focused on what he was telling them.
Well, it looked like she’d avoided talking about Gene once again. Her private relationship with the man was none of their business.
For the record though, they were all climbing Mt. Saint Bear.
“Director, we’re touching down in one minute,” Jim warned. “We will roll down the private tarmac, and your car is waiting for you.”
Good.
It was best to get this done and get it out of the way. The bottom line was that Elizabeth just wanted this nightmare of a chase to be over.
Honestly, she wanted to get her kids back.
Everyone had to be sent away, and even the people who worked for her had to put their kids in protective custody for the time being.
It was a risk the Blackhawks were NOT willing to take with their lives.
Seeing one of them get hurt…
It was something that Elizabeth carried deep in her chest. Devon Slater was a piece of shit for separating families and deserved to rot in Hell.
If she had her way, he’d go there ASAP.
At the pilot’s announcement, she buckled her seatbelt, as the Archangels did the same.
In those moments of descending to land, they gave her the luxury of silence, knowing that she was worried about the people she’d left behind.
Never let it be said that the Marines couldn’t read a room. Joke time was over.
From here on out.
Ethan, Gene, Callen, and Chris were back at the gold-baron’s mansion, under guard, and she was stressed that something might happen to them. Being apart from them meant three more sets of eyes not on them.
Mainly hers.
Only, they’d be on lockdown until it was safe, and when they had to help her do research, then they’d be camping out inside the FBI office with their employees.
Where.
It.
Was.
Safe.
Yeah, they may have had to alter how they worked, but they were, indeed, still doing their jobs.
Truthfully, work was also on her shoulders.
While she was playing chase, she couldn’t empty out her whole team and lock them away for their own safety.
It wasn’t feasible.
She had a division to handle, and she wasn’t sure how long she was going to be chasing this nut.
It could be days.
It could be weeks.
It could be months.
Either way, she was off the radar—for now and had to get this mess taken care of sooner rather than later. The citizenry of the United States needed to be protected.
In the back of her mind, though, the question remained.
How long until he focused on them to draw her out?
There was no doubt he would start taking prisoners to torture and use as bait to get to her. That was the big issue with working with family and friends.
ANY of them could be a target.
With her circle growing, that made it more difficult to protect them all.
Unfortunately.
As the wheels touched down and the sleek black jet rolled to a stop, she grabbed her messenger bag, clipped her gun back onto her belt, and got ready to deal with the crazy.
It was time to put the worry and fear behind her, so she could focus on the problem at hand.
A LUNATIC.
This should be fun.
NOT.
What wouldn’t she give to be back home with the ones she loved instead of out here playing stupid games?
They only led to stupid prizes.
“How long to get to the scene in Corpus Christi?” she asked, knowing her team would have already mapped out the safest route for her to travel undetected.
From beside her, Raphael had all of the details and clued her into the information.
“It’s going to take us about ten minutes to get there. Thankfully, we’re moving from a private landing strip, so that clears most of the traffic. As for the vehicle, you have lights and sirens onboard. We can make it to the scene in six minutes if you let me drive.”
She didn’t say a word to that, so it was anyone’s guess who was going to be behind the wheel.
Normally, it was Ivan, but he was recouping—against his best wishes.
And non-stop bitching about it too.
You’d think that Elizabeth had told him she didn’t like him, his kids were gross, and he deserved to die with the way he was holding a grudge.
The man was up in his feels over the fact he’d been left behind.
Seriously.
What did a girl have to do to protect a guy who always had to protect her?
Talk about being bitchy about it.
Ivan.
Was.
Pissy.
As they reached the stairs of the jet, she focused on the team of pilots and staff.
They were HERS.
As in no one had access to them.
They would fly her out on their jets, and the FBI ones too. No one was more trusted with all of their lives than the man handling their flights.
Unfortunately for Elizabeth, that also meant that they also could be in danger from this dude.
So, they were taking lockdown precautions for them too.
“I want this door locked, and I want everyone to stay on the jet,” she stated. “MATE is onboard, so she will alert you to anyone approaching the jet. Call the cops if anyone is detected.”
Immediately, Jim nodded.
“Yes, Director. Doctor Blackhawk has already given us the directive. He’s given MATE directive too. We won’t be getting off the jet.”
As soon as he said it, she lifted a brow.
What was this?
Why the hell was her husband up in her business and giving everyone instructions when she was perfectly capable of doing just that?
Oh, yeah.
Because she was married to control freaking yentas too.
CLEARLY.
“Pardon?” she asked.
Jim, her pilot, explained.
“He called us before you took off, and he’s told us we’re to stay on board so that you’re not distracted. He also had MATE protocols put into place to make sure we’re all safe. We greatly appreciate you being worried about us. Thank you, Elizabeth.”
Uh-huh.
Good thing she was a grown-ass woman who could take care of herself…
Right?
For someone who didn’t want to be boss, or Director, he was absolutely trying to be one.
HERS.
Was Ethan out of his goddamn, bossy mind? She didn’t need him calling her pilots to give them the orders. She was perfectly fine to manage it herself.
“You’re welcome, Jim,” she said. “You guys matter to us too, and we want everyone safe.”
He simply nodded.
As they stood there, Elizabeth couldn’t help but mutter under her breath.
“Well, thank God I have a husband to babysit me states away from here. Like I’m not perfectly aware of what needs to be done.”
Immediately, Raphael put his hand on her back, and she got it.
Her husband was just trying to help.
Don’t get her wrong.
She was well aware that the men were worried, and Ethan was carrying the burden too. He’d not seen this coming, where Devon nearly blew them up, and now, he was twitchy.
He took that personally.
Join.
The.
Club.
“Thank you, Jim. I appreciate it. Food is in the kitchen, fuel up, and take a nap. We’ll be back as soon as we can,” she offered. “Lay low until I can get back here so we can disembark to the next stop.”
He nodded.
“Yes, Ma’am.”
As soon as she knew her flight crew was safe, it was time to get to the scene.
Elizabeth jogged down the steps, Uriel behind her, and Raphael behind him. At the tarmac, there was a blacked-out ride, like promised, and it was being babysat by Secret Service agents.
Well, someone was definitely on her nice list for Christmas this year. Gabe had come through, and that was greatly appreciated.
“Director, the President wants you to call when you are back in the air. He needs you to make some time for him.”
No shock there.
When didn’t she need to give him her attention? The world was on fire, and she was on his list of ‘fixers’. All she could hope was it could hold off for a while.
Elizabeth was kind of busy.
Taking the keys from the agent, she tossed them to Raphael.
Tag.
He was it.
“Can do,” she said. “Is it case-related, or something else?” she asked, hoping the agent could, or would, give her a heads-up so she’d know if she needed to dodge that call.
The woman shrugged.
“No idea, Ma’am, but he was cranky. So…” she offered, clueing her in.
Well, shit.
What else was new?
Gabe was three days past bitchy since Axelle gave him her notice the day The Grave Robber craziness blew up. He’d begged her to give them a month to buy Elizabeth time, but Axelle had an exit strategy.
As in getting the fuck out of their family.
When the Duke shit went down, she felt it was best to tuck tail and leave, exiting not only their lives, but her children’s.
It was shitty on so many levels.
This whole thing put Elizabeth in a really bad situation. Duke was her brother, and the girls were her nieces. As a mother, she couldn’t imagine leaving her kids, ever, but she also knew that Axelle had never wanted to be a parent. She’d made that crystal clear, but Duke had rolled over her.
So, she was trying not to take sides.
It was…difficult at best.
Already, that paperwork had been signed, faxed, and approved by a judge. In the very short time, less than a week, Axelle Maverick had become Axelle George once more.
And she’d lost a sister-in-law.
Gabe had lost the head of the FBI at a time when he really couldn’t have anyone abandoning ship.
Hopefully, Kate Natalia was ready to go.