Leah Braemel - Deliberate Deceptions

At the same time she was thinking of their flight into the terrorists’ camp in Colombia, the young agent to her left cursed under his breath about it being Afghanistan all over again. Guess it didn’t matter what country or what battle, bad weather and bad flights were universal.

She craned her neck to see out the windows and realized twilight had long since come and gone, and all she could see below them was inky blackness.

Scott peered down at the circle of lights that suddenly blazed beneath them and exhaled. “Thank God.”

“Please tell me this is our last stop.” She covered her mouth and yawned in an effort to pop the pressure building in her ears from the change in altitude.

“What? Are you bored with our company already?” Troy grabbed a strap over the door when a gust of wind caught the helicopter and it swung around. “You’re welcome to leave any time you want. No skin off my nose.”

Was Troy still pissed off they hadn’t tipped him off to their plans earlier? Or maybe he was offended on Chad’s behalf? If that was his reasoning, she had no argument. She stared out the window, watching the stars disappear behind the treetops that whipped around in the downdraft of the helicopter’s blades. At least Chad had friends who’d stayed with him this time.

As soon as they’d touched down, the lights shut off, leaving them in the dark. “What’s stopping anyone else” -an attacker- “from landing their own helicopter?”

“Oh, I think we’d find a way to discourage any unwanted visitors.”

“Let me guess, you’ve armed your guards with surface-to-air missiles.”

A dark smile quirked the ends of his lips but he didn’t say anything. Holy hell, how had Hauberk managed to acquire SAMs legally? Just who had Sam Watson fucked to get that type of power?

What was she thinking? He probably obtained them from the same place as the Brigade. Cooper Davis had drawn Sam into his circle without Sam even suspecting what was going on. Or did Sam know about Cooper’s real identity?

That single connection between Sam and the Brigade’s leader sent another frisson of worry through her. There were too many threads hanging on this case, too many possibilities for Harris to infiltrate Hauberk’s network.

A camouflaged guard, complete with infra-red goggles and an MP5 machine gun slung over his shoulder, slid open the helicopter door and glanced around the interior. As soon as he recognized Troy, he touched his hand to his forehead as if he were in the military. “Good evening, sir. Everything’s secure.”

Troy jumped out first then reached up to help her out, his expression grim. “I hope you bloody well know what you’re doing.”

So did she.

She ducked her head as she jumped to the ground beside him. Instead of the pavement she expected, soft grass cushioned her landing. Crickets chirped as she took a deep breath, hoping to get some sense of where they were. The scent of fresh mown grass and damp earth filled her lungs. No distant roar of a highway, no bright lights indicative of a nearby city bouncing off the few clouds. With only the stars sparkling above and no moon, she couldn’t see much beyond the field they were in. Rolling hills silhouetted the horizon, increasing her suspicion they’d gone in a circle and were now back east. Vermont’s Green Mountains? The Appalachians? But where? Tennessee? Pennsylvania? North Carolina? Did it matter? Not as long as Harris couldn’t find them.

Her confidence in their plan faltered when she saw Chad at the far edge of the meadow, four men armed with an assortment of MP5s and M4 carbines flanking him. Even with the distance between them, power emanated from him. His alert posture combined with a quiet confidence radiated his awareness of everything surrounding them. No doubt he’d already evaluated everything either as a threat or for use as a possible defense. Would he head straight for the front gate once he found out she was his principal?

His gaze skimmed over her as they approached, then flicked to assess the two agents at her side. Though his expression was bland, there was no mistaking the tension in his shoulders.

She arrived beside Troy just in time to hear him say, “This wasn’t my effin’ idea.”

Chad looked directly at Lauren but she couldn’t read his expression; he’d donned the damned implacable mask he’d learned to use thanks to the FBI and the media. “Noted.”

Troy glanced over his shoulder and shook his head. “I think I’ll hang around a couple days in case you want someone else to take over.”

The agents hung back as Chad stuck his hands in his pockets, something he only did if he was nervous. Which meant his pockets were rarely used. “Hello, Lauren.”

I’m sorry, please forgive me for leaving you. For not coming back. I despise your sister for what she did to us. I hate myself for trusting her. I’ve never stopped loving you. I’ve missed holding you and being held. I’ve even missed the way you hog the covers at night. “Hello, Chad.”

“Let’s go inside.” Not cold. Not warm either. Business-like. Detached. Like she was a stranger.

Maybe she was.

As they walked toward the waiting Humvee, his palm touched the small of her back, igniting a memory of the first time they’d met at the bar where she’d worked her last year of college. How he’d been so careful with her, so tender and gentle. Oh, he had strength. He’d proven that the way he’d handled the drunken patron who had accosted her. He’d waited around until the end of her shift, his friends having ditched him hours before. Once she was done, he’d escorted her to her car, placing the flat of his hand on her back just the way it was now. The same spark of electricity had zinged through her then too.

Lauren closed her eyes, fighting the guilt welling inside. When she told him what she’d done, when she finally confessed her secret, he’d leave. Worse, he might hate her.

Chad stared out the Humvee’s window in a futile effort to pretend Lauren wasn’t sitting mere feet away from him. Did Sam know it was Lauren he’d be protecting?

Damn it, was this all a setup? Some twisted scheme to get them back together? Was Thalia playing one of her manipulative games? Or Sam? No, neither of them liked Lauren. Oh, they’d both liked her well enough until she’d walked away from their marriage. Thalia had been livid on his behalf, while Sam…well, Sam had set him up with an endless number of women. All of whom he’d turned down. Almost all, he corrected himself. It had been almost ten years, and he doubted Lauren had been celibate either. The idea of her being with another man turned his stomach. His gaze slid sideways and he checked her left hand. After all these years why should he feel such satisfaction in not finding a ring? He should want her to be happy. Even if it wasn’t with him, damn it.

Something about the whole assignment, about the way Weir had come to them and then the way Sam had suggested he get out from behind the desk and take the assignment had the hairs on the back of his neck standing at a ninety-degree angle. Weir had to have known he worked for Hauberk, had to have known he’d once been married to Lauren. So why seek him out? He ran through the meeting and realized that he’d been manipulated-and from the looks of it, Sam had been part of the manipulation. Which made no sense if Sam knew Lauren would be their principal; there was no way in hell he would have put Chad in charge of her protection. Sam, more than anyone, would realize his objectivity would be skewed. It must be obvious from the way he couldn’t stop staring at her ankles, remembering them wrapping about him as he positioned himself at her entrance, that he was anything but objective. His cock stiffened at the memory of the heat of her pussy as he slid deep inside her. Shit yeah, his objectivity was completely shot to hell.