Special Ops Exclusive

chapter 15



Thursday didn’t come soon enough for Nick. He definitely wasn’t complaining about the explosive sex he and Rebecca were having at regular intervals, because that wasn’t the problem. At all.

No, the problem was that he was starting to enjoy her company way too much.

He liked lying in bed with her. He liked listening to her childhood stories and work anecdotes and passionate tirades. He even liked the way she teased him mercilessly whenever he did something “overly” chivalrous. Although in his defense, how on earth was leaving the toilet seat down considered overly chivalrous? He’d shared a bathroom with his sister growing up—he was perfectly aware of what happened if you left that seat up.

What he also knew was that no matter how much he liked Rebecca, she couldn’t be a part of his future. He didn’t want to be in a relationship where he’d be worrying about the woman he loved 90 percent of the time. Each time she went off to cover a dangerous assignment, he’d be freaking out and climbing the walls with panic.

And yeah, he saw the hypocrisy in that, considering his military career had placed him in many dangerous positions over the years, but that didn’t mean he wanted the woman in his life doing the same.

Besides, his career was over now. Once he put this mess behind him, he’d probably look for a civilian job. Maybe he could find a place at the DoD with his dad where he’d work his ass off to make sure nothing like this ever happened again.

If he got seriously involved with Rebecca, he’d go gray within the year. The woman was stubborn, reckless, bold. She gave no thought to her well-being, only the adventure, the next big scoop. When he’d yelled for her to get down outside the hospital in Mala, she’d done the opposite and gone for that mercenary’s gun instead. When he’d ordered her to stay put in Costa Rica, she’d showed up in the doorway of Waverly’s beach house.

How could he be with someone who would undoubtedly argue with him every step of the way? Challenge every decision or suggestion he made?

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Nick turned away from the window and found Rebecca smirking at him. She’d taken to mimicking his “good guy lingo” as she liked to call it, and he had to admit, hearing the outdated phrase leave her mouth made him realize how nerdy it was.

“I’m just watching the sunset—” he started.

“Aw, you big romantic, you.”

“—because I can’t wait for it to get dark so we can get out of here,” he finished.

“Oh, like you haven’t enjoyed every second we’ve spent in this room.”

Said the beautiful, naked woman stretched out on the bed. Despite himself, Nick’s body reacted to the tantalizing sight, and he couldn’t have mustered up a denial even if he’d tried.

“Of course I have,” he conceded, “but I’m also anxious to get this confrontation with McAvoy over with.”

“Did your father message you again?”

“Not since he let us know that McAvoy landed three hours ago.”

“He was supposed to meet McAvoy at the Pentagon, right?” Rebecca paused. “I hope he didn’t give anything away. We can’t tip McAvoy off yet.”

“Trust me, my dad knows how to play the game. He lives and breathes secrets and lies.”

“This is D.C. Who doesn’t?” Her tone was dry.

She stretched her arms over her head, drawing his gaze to her bare breasts. His mouth immediately watered, his tongue tingling with the urge to taste those rosy nipples.

As she noticed where his gaze had landed, Rebecca’s lips curved in a smile. “Hmm, I think I’d better get dressed before you ravish me again.”

“Good idea,” he agreed, because yep, he was in real danger of doing some ravishing.

After Rebecca disappeared into the bathroom, Nick donned a navy blue button-down over his black tee, then tucked his SIG into the waistband of his jeans. He didn’t like the fact that Rebecca was coming along, but sometime in between all the sex they’d been having, she’d actually come up with a plan that Nick had grudgingly seen the merit of.

Her approach was far more diplomatic than the course of action he’d planned on taking, but he still would’ve preferred to handle this alone.

Rebecca emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later wearing jeans, a blue T-shirt, an open plaid shirt and her brown hiking boots. Her red hair was loose and cascading down her shoulders, and she looked so damn pretty that his heart squeezed.

“What is it?” she said warily.

“Nothing.” His voice came out so hoarse he had to clear his throat before speaking again. “Ready to expose some corruption, Sherlock?”

Her features relaxed, a broad smile stretching across her sexy mouth. “Heck yeah. Let’s do this thing.”

* * *

It didn’t take long to reach Deputy Secretary Fred McAvoy’s house. A quick trip on the freeway, a drive across the bridge into Virginia, and then they were on a residential street in Fairfax County staring at the gated entrance of McAvoy’s Tudor-style home.

Rebecca eyed the wrought-iron barrier. “Should we buzz the intercom?”

“Nah,” was all Nick said.

As she battled her confusion, he stopped at the curb a few yards from the gate and parked on the street. Shutting off the engine, he unbuckled his seat belt and said, “Give me a minute.”

Now she was even more confused, especially when he twisted around and grabbed a small leather case from the duffel in the backseat.

Before she could ask what the little kit contained, Nick was out of the SUV and striding toward the house. Because the gate was set away from the street, she couldn’t see what Nick was doing once he disappeared behind one of the concrete posts on either side of the gate.

But he stayed true to his word, returning to the SUV a minute later and gesturing for her to get out.

Rebecca’s palms were unusually damp as she followed Nick. She couldn’t believe he’d agreed to her plan; she’d been expecting to fight him tooth and nail about coming along, and she wondered if his willingness to let her risk her life was a sign that he was warming up to the idea of having her in his life.

Being with Nick in the motel these past couple of days had provided her with some real insight into his head—and heart. She was pretty sure she knew what he was looking for in a partner, but she hoped he would be open-minded enough to accept that sometimes what you were looking for was not what you needed.

Take her, for example: She’d always figured she’d end up with a daredevil like herself, but now, she would give anything to have such a sweet, honorable man like Nick in her life.

Focus, Becks.

She shoved all those pesky relationship thoughts from her mind and discovered that McAvoy’s gate was now wide open. A glance at the electronic keypad affixed to the concrete wall showed that the cover had been removed to expose a tangle of wires.

“You hot-wired the gate?” she whispered in amusement.

“Yep.”

They walked right through it, heading up the long driveway leading to McAvoy’s two-story house. Flower beds lined the paved drive, and the late-night summer breeze rustled the stems of colorful flowers and the leaves of the lush green plants filling the beds. McAvoy had a good landscaper, that was for sure.

Rebecca inhaled the sweet scent in the air, taking a second to admire the array of red, yellow and white roses planted beneath the spacious porch. The second they approached the porch steps, a light flickered on.

“Motion sensor,” Nick said with a nod.

She noticed he had one hand positioned slightly behind his hip, ready to draw his weapon in a heartbeat.

Before they could knock or ring the doorbell, the heavy oak door flew open, which told her that their approach must have triggered an alarm inside the house.

An angry-looking man in gray wool trousers and a black V-neck sweater appeared in the doorway. “How the hell did you get past the gate—” His jaw fell open as he recognized Rebecca. “Parker? What the hell?”

“Good to see you again, Deputy McAvoy,” she said coolly. “It’s been, what, two years since we met at that fund-raiser?”

Fred McAvoy had a pair of blue eyes that were a tad too close together and a long, thin nose that lent him a perpetually birdlike air. He also wasn’t a very tall man, only four or five inches taller than Rebecca, who considered herself tiny.

“What the hell are you doing here at this hour?” McAvoy demanded. His suspicious gaze shifted to Nick, who hadn’t uttered a word. “Who’s this? And why are the two of you—” The man halted, eyes narrowed, and then his face lost all its color. “Barrett.”

Nick’s voice was deceptively cordial. “Yes, we’ve met, too, Fred. On at least a couple of occasions. Should I be insulted that you didn’t recognize your own boss’s son?”

“My boss is the president of the United States,” McAvoy answered curtly. “And I don’t give a damn whose son you are. It’s ten o’clock at night—you don’t show up unannounced at this hour.”

“Yeah, we’re sorry to barge in on you like this,” Rebecca said, her tone conveying just how not sorry she was, “but we really wanted to give you a chance to respond before I took this story to the network.”

McAvoy faltered. “What are you talking about? What story?”

“Well, the copy hasn’t been written yet, but...” She shrugged. “I suppose I could give you a rough idea of what I plan on saying. It’ll go something like this—Some breaking news this morning, folks. Deputy Secretary Fred McAvoy has been implicated in the manufacturing, testing and release of the Meridian virus, which, as you all know, claimed more than a thousand lives in the small town of Dixie only a short time ago.”

The remaining color drained from McAvoy’s face, leaving him paler than snow.

“It has been confirmed,” Rebecca went on cheerfully, “that McAvoy was the mastermind behind the—”

“I’m not the mastermind behind anything!” McAvoy burst out.

He was practically shouting, and he quickly lowered his voice and glanced in the direction of the gate just in case an evening jogger happened to be passing by.

“You have no proof of anything, Parker. The department will sue you for libel if you air any of your preposterous allegations.”

“These aren’t allegations. They’re facts.”

Nick spoke up. “Paul Waverly is in federal custody, Fred, and he’s more than willing to testify against you. He’s stated on the record that you gave him a sample of the virus to eliminate Sergeant Sebastian Stone.”

McAvoy’s outraged mask slipped, revealing a flash of uncertainty. “Paul Waverly left town.”

That earned him a little smirk from Nick. “Yeah, and I found him. So now why don’t you invite us inside, Fred, so we can have some privacy.”

The other man’s lips tightened with indignation. “Privacy for what?”

“For you to tell your side of the story to Ms. Parker.” Nick shrugged. “No matter what she says on the air tomorrow, you’re still going to jail, Fred. My father knows what you’ve done—”

The deputy’s breath hitched in evident fear.

“—and he’s not going to cover it up to save your ass. So if you want to explain why you did what you did, this may be your only chance before you’re thrown into federal lockdown.”

It was obvious McAvoy didn’t want to let them in.

It was also obvious he knew he was beaten.

With a ragged breath, he opened the door wider and allowed them to step into the spacious front foyer.

“I need a drink,” he mumbled.

McAvoy took off walking without checking to see if they were following. Rebecca exchanged a look with Nick, and then the two of them trailed after the deputy secretary, whose shoulders had sagged in defeat.

They entered a cozy den with wood-paneled walls, leather couches and a wet bar, which McAvoy made a beeline for. He didn’t offer them a drink. Just poured himself a big glass of whiskey and sank onto the sofa as if his legs could no longer support him.

Rebecca sat down on the couch across from him while Nick stood behind her, watching the other man’s every move.

“I’m not going to make a run for it,” McAvoy said in a bitter voice. “You think I want to get shot down by the SWAT team that’s probably out on the street, waiting for your word to storm the house?”

Neither of them corrected him. Might as well let him think there was a team of government agents waiting to arrest him, Rebecca thought.

“I’m surprised Kirk allowed you to talk to me first,” the deputy said gloomily before raising his glass to his lips and taking a swig. “He’s usually more by the book.”

Rebecca answered for Nick. “I can be very persuasive, and Secretary Barrett owed me one for helping him track down his son.” She leaned forward and rested her hands on her knees. “Let’s not waste any time, Fred. Tell me what compelled you to believe that testing that virus on innocent people was a good idea.”

He blanched. “That wasn’t my call. I didn’t make any decisions regarding the testing of the biological agent. I only followed the orders given to me, made a few arrangements and pulled the right strings.”

She raised a brow. “Orders, huh? And who gave you these orders?”

McAvoy just shrugged and took another sip.

“Come on, Fred,” she cajoled, “don’t get all tight-lipped now. You know you have a better chance of saving your own butt if you give up the person responsible for Project Aries. Who gave the order to engineer the virus?”

Slowly, McAvoy set his glass down on the handsome pine coffee table. “Who the hell do you think? It was Ferguson.”

Rebecca tried to mask her shock. “You mean...the vice president?”

“Who the hell else would I mean?” he said irritably.

“Was he acting on President Howard’s behalf?” She held her breath, slightly afraid of the answer to that.

“No. Howard has no idea what the veep has been up to.” A fresh dose of bitterness splashed on the deputy’s face.

Nick finally joined the discussion, his voice laced with incredulity. “You’re saying that Vice President Troy Ferguson went behind the president’s back and sanctioned the development of a biological weapon?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Rebecca was still having a tough time controlling her shock, which was now joined by a pang of doubt. “Ferguson was all about social reform during both campaigns. He and Howard were in agreement that we needed to cut back on defense spending.”

“That’s what he wanted Howard to think,” McAvoy said darkly. “Ferguson wanted his name on that ticket, and he lied through his teeth to get it there. His father was a navy admiral, for Chrissake. Of course he’s pro-defense.”

She had to admit McAvoy raised a good point. She remembered thinking the same thing during that first election—why would the son of a decorated admiral be so gung ho about cutting military spending?

“The veep loathes our commander in chief,” McAvoy said with a sigh. “He thinks Howard’s attitude is too tolerant, that he should be making decisions with a more high-handed approach. After the terrorist attack on that hospital in California a couple of years ago, Ferguson had enough. He’s a big believer that ten years from now, wars will be fought solely with biological weapons, so he decided to create the deadliest one of all.”

“And he cut a deal with the San Marquez government to test it in their country,” Rebecca said in disgust.

“Sometimes extreme measures are necessary.” McAvoy sounded defensive. “Those villagers died so millions of future Americans could live.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Nick muttered.

“I don’t sleep at night,” McAvoy shot back. “Why? Because any second, a plane could crash into my house, or a nuke could be dropped on my city—the war on terrorism continues to rage, and nobody’s doing a damn thing to stop it. Innocent people are dying for whatever crazy cause these fanatics subscribe to, and nobody is doing—”

Rebecca cut him off in disbelief. “You’re doing the same thing yourself, Deputy! Killing innocent people for your cause—in this case, the cause is national defense. Those villagers in San Marquez did nothing to harm us. You and Ferguson murdered them, just like you murdered the men in Nick’s unit. And those men, by the way? They were Americans, the very people you’re claiming to protect.”

“Sometimes sacrifices have to be made,” McAvoy said feebly.

The disgust rose in her throat once more, and she resisted the urge to clock him right in the face. Taking a breath, she glanced over at Nick, who seemed equally annoyed with McAvoy’s reasoning.

“So now what?” McAvoy demanded, his wary gaze moving from her to Nick. “Can I at least phone my lawyer before I’m arrested?”

“Sorry, Fred, but we can’t let you anywhere near a phone,” Nick said.

He rounded the couch and approached the other man, whose blue eyes filled with panic. “What the hell are you talking about? What are you doing?”

“You must be jet-lagged,” Nick interrupted pleasantly. “It’s time to take a little nap.”

Rebecca’s eyes widened as Nick executed a lightning-fast karate chop to the back of McAvoy’s head. A moment later, the deputy sagged backward. Unconscious.

“What the heck did you do that for?” she exclaimed.

Nick shrugged. “We can’t leave him here and risk him calling Ferguson. And we can’t have him arrested yet or Ferguson might be tipped off.”

“So what do we do with him, then?”

Nick bent down and heaved the other man over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “We take him with us.”