Authors: Cindy Dees
Emily’s soft voice flowed over him.
Of course it’s the people, silly. Family and friends love you no matter what. They stick with you through thick and thin. Jobs come and go but people stay in your heart forever
.
Oh, how he knew that to be true. Even when they’d been dead and gone for years. He could feel his children’s wriggly bodies in his arms, smell their sticky sweetness, hear their squeals of laughter as he tickled their ribs. He gasped in agony. Slammed the phone down.
He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t pretend his family wasn’t always with him. Couldn’t deny the love they’d all shared. Once he’d opened the floodgate just a crack, other memories, long denied, came rushing back to him. The way Jeff Winston had been at his side in a matter of hours and not left him for weeks. The guy had walked away from a billion-dollar company at the drop of a hat to be there for his old friend.
And his mother. She’d stayed with him for
months
. An entire string of family and friends had mounted a round-the-clock suicide watch on him, in fact.
For the first time in years, he allowed himself to remember their compassion. Their pain. Their shared suffering. How could he have forgotten all of that for so long?
The answer was simple and obvious. He couldn’t allow himself to remember it until now. He hadn’t been ready to deal with their pain before now. Hell, he wasn’t sure he was ready to deal with his own pain yet.
The shrinks had told him he would come to terms with things in his own time and to be patient. Right. Because he just loved feeling like an ungrateful bastard. He hadn’t been kind to the people around him when they’d prevented him from joining Emily and the kids in death. Even now, he wasn’t sure they’d done him a service or not. But at the end of the day he was still here. And he still had a decision to make.
Although truth be told, he’d already made it.
He picked up the phone and dialed Jeff Winston.
“Hey buddy,” Jeff’s voice boomed. “How’s tricks?”
“Complicated.”
“How so? Sam’s not wigging out on you, is she?”
Gray frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Let’s just say her life hasn’t always been a bed of roses. The word
complicated
definitely applies to her.”
“I’d gathered that,” Gray replied dryly. “Actually, she’s been rock-solid.”
“Really?” Jeff sounded surprised. “Well, good for her. I figured after that psycho she just broke up with she’d be a bit of a mess.”
Was that why Jeff had sent her to West Virginia? As therapy? Gray snorted. Some pair the two of them made.
“Look, Jeff. I’ve got a confession to make. And first, I need to apologize to you.”
“For what?”
“I was an asshole to you after...” he took a deep breath and forged ahead “...after Emily and the kids died. And you were a better friend than I deserved.”
Jeff was silent like he didn’t quite know what to say. Then he burst out, “You don’t owe me any apology! I just hope I was some help. I didn’t feel like I did a damned thing for you.”
“No one could’ve helped me. I had to make the journey to hell and back on my own.”
“Does this mean you think you’ve made it back?” Jeff asked cautiously.
He sighed. “I don’t know if I’ll ever make it all the way back. But I’m finally figuring out a few things.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I think I owe you my life.” Jeff made a sound of denial, but Gray pressed on. “About that confession I need to make to you. The National Security Agency wants me to spy on you for them. In fact, they think I’m doing that very thing right now.”
Jeff was silent at that.
“But I can’t do it, man. You’ve been a true friend and stood by me through everything. I owe you better than that.”
“Thanks.” A long silence. “So where do we go from here?”
Gray took a deep breath. “Have you ever heard of Echelon?”
“Whoa. Yes. But I didn’t expect you to talk to me about it!”
For good reason. The Echelon Program was about as classified as anything could get in the United States government. It was the name of the operation to collect every bit of electronic communication that happened in this hemisphere. All of it. Every phone call, every wireless signal, every email, every internet transmission.
All
of it.
“So it really exists, then?” Jeff asked.
“Oh, yeah. And Wendall Proctor knows about it.”
“I
knew
it.”
Gray was shocked. That was the real reason he and Sam had been sent here? To protect Echelon from Wendall Proctor? Holy crap. He asked Jeff tersely, “So here’s the big question. What does he plan to do with the information?”
“No idea. That’s what I was hoping Luke Zimmer could find out for me.”
Gray said grimly, “Give me a day or two. I’ll either be dead or get the information for you myself.”
“What have you done, Gray?”
“I told one of Proctor’s guys I’m a government agent and I want to talk to Wendall. Either the guy will shoot me, or he’s going to talk to me.”
“And
then
shoot you!” Jeff exclaimed.
“Probably. Unless I can convince him I’m of more use alive than dead.”
“How do you plan to do that?” The worry in Jeff’s voice warmed Gray’s gut.
“I’m going to have to act like I know more about Echelon than Proctor does or than I’m telling Proctor.”
“It’s too dangerous. You and Sam should get out of there. We’ll find some other way to peel this onion.”
“How, Jeff? It’s not like you can point a satellite at the guy and watch him from space. The NRQZ makes that impossible. Only way to use a satellite is to shut down the telescopes, and that takes permission from the observatory. It’s going to take feet-on-the-ground, eyes-on-the-guy surveillance to figure out what Proctor’s up to. With my training and her eyesight, Sam and I are the best team for the job.”
“I don’t like it.”
“Hell, I don’t like it, either. But we’ve got no choice. This is the sort of stuff Sam and I might have to sacrifice our lives to protect, if it comes to that. What more can you tell me about Echelon that’ll help me string Proctor along?”
Jeff answered in a hush that he probably didn’t realize he was using. “There are at least a half dozen antenna arrays around the world that collect signals data for the program. It’s a known thing that they collect radio and wireless transmissions. These are no doubt fed into supercomputers and analyzed. But what’s not widely known is that the Echelon Project has tapped the internet.”
“How?” Gray asked.
“There are only thirteen nodes around the world that absolutely every internet transmission has to pass through. I have received information that they’ve been tapped and that their data is also being fed into government supercomputers for analysis. My source says
all
the nodes are being harvested, even the Chinese one, and I have no reason to doubt my source.”
Gray shuddered to even think about how highly placed a source Jeff had to have to know this information. “Okay, so Echelon is watching pretty much everyone everywhere. What else?”
“Like that’s not enough?” Jeff blurted.
“We’re talking my life, here. The more information I have, the more chance I stand of staying alive.”
“Or of having it tortured out of you,” Jeff grumbled.
There was that.
Jeff continued reluctantly, “I have reason to believe the computer array that takes in and sorts Shady Grove’s data is in Maryland, sixty miles or so east of the antenna array. I’m told it’s comprised of acres of supercomputers housed in an underground facility.”
“How does the data get from the antennas to the computers?” Gray asked.
“Buried fiber-optic cables.”
“Anything else?” he asked.
“Interference automatically knocks the radio telescopes offline. It’s a safety feature to keep the sensors from being overloaded and blown out. There’ve been rumors of unexplained interruptions in the collection of radio data at the Byrd Observatory. And if their antennas are getting knocked offline by something or someone, I’m betting the NSA’s antennas are getting messed up, too.”
Damn, Jeff’s sources were good. Someday, they’d have to have a talk about where the guy got his information.
Jeff was speaking. “—dig up anything else, I’ll give you a call.”
“Let me call you,” Gray replied quickly. “Our house is under surveillance, and I wouldn’t be surprised if our phone lines get tapped pretty soon.”
“Be careful, eh?” Jeff didn’t say the words, but Gray heard them in his friend’s voice.
And don’t let anything bad happen to Sam
. Right. Like he was the guy to look out for yet another woman’s safety since he’d done such a great job with Em and the kids.
He closed his eyes and gave his heart over to the knives imbedding themselves in it.
“Don’t die, Gray. It’s not worth it. If this approach doesn’t work, we’ll find another way.”
“I hear you.” He didn’t make any promises to Jeff. He
couldn’t
make any promises. Life had taught him that much. One thing he did know—he’d die before he let Sam get hurt. That much he could promise. And he did, silently, to himself.
Chapter 9
S
am made up some silly argument between her and Gray that launched Miss Maddie into an hour’s worth of advice on marriage. Which was ironic given that the woman had never been married herself. After a little while, Sam concluded that the woman had learned everything she knew about relationships from soap operas. She tuned out her neighbor entirely after that.
She’d positioned herself in a chair beside Miss Maddie’s large living room window so she could see outside. The woman had a surprisingly good view of a hefty chunk of Spruce Hollow from here. The man in the white Cadillac had followed Gray out of town, but had been replaced in about a half hour with a dusty pickup truck. She didn’t recognize the man inside, but he looked impatient at having been stuck on surveillance duty.
How long was Gray going to be gone, anyway? She didn’t know how much more of Miss Maddie’s prattling she could take.
Finally, in desperation, she asked the older woman, “By the way, would it be possible for you to tell me how you make that amazing macaroni and cheese of yours? I swear, Gray still hasn’t stopped talking about it.”
Miss Maddie simpered. If she weren’t pushing eighty years old, Sam might be jealous of the woman’s obvious crush on him. “Honey, I’d be glad to give you the recipe.”
Sam did her best to blush. “Actually, I’m a terrible cook. A recipe won’t be much help to me. I was wondering if you could show me how to make it.”
“Why, I think I have all the ingredients. How about we whip up a batch of it right now? A peace offering for your handsome young man,” she added slyly.
“You’re amazing.” She gave the woman a genuine hug of gratitude. For all her gossiping, Miss Maddie had a good heart.
Thankfully, the conversation turned to cooking, and Sam actually did her best to pay attention. No one had ever bothered to teach her anything about functioning in a kitchen. Her own mother had been too drunk or too stoned to bother, and none of her mom’s long string of boyfriends had cared much for cooking.
Sam had been too busy running around being an idiot, and then trying to get an education and right the listing ship of her life to slow down before now and learn for herself. But Gray appreciated good food, and a desire to be able to provide it for him coursed through her.
Good grief, he’d brought out a domestic streak in her. Horrors! Except actually, it felt kind of nice. Normal, even.
Miss Maddie made them cups of tea while the macaroni and cheese baked, and Sam limited herself to looking at her watch every three minutes or so. But as time ticked by, she grew more and more concerned about Gray.
“Don’t worry, sweetie,” Miss Maddie patted her hand. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”
That captured Sam’s attention. “How’s that?”
“Like he’s adrift at sea and you’re his anchor.”
The insight of that remark staggered Sam. “His anchor?” she echoed in a small voice.
“Just so, child. That man loves you. It’s all over his face when he looks at you.”
Gray? Her? Love?
Nah. He was just a great actor. But a tiny part of her—okay, not so tiny a part of her—wished it was true. To have a decent, kind, intelligent man like Gray love her...that would be beyond her wildest fantasy come true. And it didn’t hurt that he was smoking hot. She’d never dared even imagine a relationship with a man like him. But then, she’d never really imagined a stable, long-term relationship for herself, either.
The oven timer dinged and Miss Maddie got up to take the golden-brown, cheesy masterpiece out of the oven.
Just then, the front doorbell rang. Sam leaped to her feet. “I’ll get it.” Please, God, let it be Gray. She grabbed her purse as she approached the door and slung the strap over her shoulder. Plunging her hand inside, she gripped the cold, heavy pistol as she opened the door.
It was Gray. She sagged in relief as he stepped inside quickly and swept her up in his arms. Who kissed who first, she didn’t know and didn’t care. All that mattered was he was holding her and kissing her back nearly as desperately as she was kissing him.
“I hate being away from you,” he whispered against her lips.
“I hate it, too,” she whispered back.
“Ahh, the lovebirds have made up,” Miss Maddie crowed from behind them. “Guess you won’t be needing that macaroni and cheese after all, Samantha.”
Gray looked up, laughing. “Oh, yes, she does.”
Miss Maddie wrapped the steaming dish in a towel and handed it to Sam, who cradled it carefully as Gray hustled her across the front lawn to their own house.
“So. What did you—” she started. Gray cut her off with a sharp wave of his hand.
She headed for the kitchen to dish up bowls of the macaroni and cheese while he headed for his bedroom. He emerged carrying a small handheld device about the size of a cell phone. She recognized a scanner for picking up electronic surveillance.
“Won’t that trigger some sort of alarm?” she asked under her breath.
“It’s a passive scanner. It’ll merely register if there’s output,” he breathed back.
She waited impatiently while he scanned the house for bugs. He partially took apart the telephone and even disappeared outside briefly to check the phone box on the pole behind their house.
“Clean,” he announced.
“I bet it won’t be that way much longer. White Cadillac guy was replaced with a truck about a half hour after you left. He’s still there.”
“We’ve definitely got Proctor’s interest,” Gray agreed.
“So. What did you find out? I assume you talked to somebody about Echelon?”
“Yeah. Your boss.”
“Really? Did Jeff know anything?”
Gray filled her in briefly, and her jaw was hanging open by the time he finished. “You’re telling me that every phone call I make, every email I send, every internet site I visit is recorded by the government and scanned by them?”
“That’s most likely correct.”
“Man, the conspiracy theorists would have a field day with this information. At a minimum, though, it seems like invasion of privacy on an epic scale.”
“Hence the intense secrecy surrounding the Echelon Program.”
“Isn’t it blatantly against the law?”
He shrugged. “Well, if we spy on the Brits and they spy on our people and we happen to exchange anything interesting that we happen to hear—as a favor between friendly governments, of course—”
“Of course,” she interjected sarcastically.
“—then nothing illegal has technically taken place.”
“I highly doubt it would hold up in court.”
“It doesn’t have to. The National Security Agency has permission to spy on Americans in the name of homeland security. And besides, such a case would never make it to court. The plaintiffs would disappear long before they managed to actually press charges.”
She shuddered at how casually he said that. He, of all people, knew the price of murder, government sanctioned or otherwise. There were human faces behind state-sponsored assassination. Families. Loved ones.
But then she took a good look at him. He looked...ravaged. “Rough morning?” she asked.
“You have no idea.”
“I don’t like fighting with you.”
“Me, neither,” he said quietly. He reached across the table and squeezed her hand.
“Whatever happens, we’ll face it together,” she announced. “And speaking of which, is the plan for both of us to visit Proctor, or do you want me to stand off and watch you from afar?”
“I’d prefer to have you stand off. But we may not have any choice in the matter. If they make you come along, your job is to convince Proctor and his people that you know absolutely nothing about my work. You don’t even know exactly who I work for.”
Which was mostly true, anyway. She nodded.
“And for God’s sake, don’t let them know how intelligent you are.”
“Or that I see like an eagle?” she added wryly.
“That goes without saying. How will you hide your eyes?”
“I have the brown contacts I used before. Don’t worry about me. I’ll survive.”
“You always do, don’t you?” he asked reflectively.
She blurted, “What did Jeff tell you about my past?”
“Nothing you haven’t already told me. He did mention that the most recent boyfriend was a psycho.”
“That’s no lie. At least I got wise before I got too deeply involved with him.” Although that series of voice mails he’d left for her flashed through her mind and called her statement into doubt.
She leaned forward. “Okay, so I’m the sex-kitten girlfriend without two brain cells to rub together. Anything else?”
“If this goes bad, you’re to get yourself out. Don’t worry about me. Just save yourself.”
She leaned back hard in her chair. “Not happening, big guy.”
“Sam. I mean it.”
“So do I.”
“I’m trained to deal with situations like this.”
“And if it goes bad, you’ll be a hell of a lot better off if I have your back,” she retorted.
“I’m not arguing about this—”
“Good,” she stated forcefully. “Because I’m not discussing it. I have your back and that’s that.”
He opened his mouth to make a fight of it and she cut him off with an intensity that matched his. “I’m an adult. I know how to defend myself. I’ve been in some bad situations before and I’ll fight like a maniac if it comes to it. No one’s going to sneak up on me and do something horrible to me.”
He went pale.
She continued, “You are not responsible for my safety or my decisions. I choose to be there for you, and I can tell you right now I will never abandon you or leave you. Got it?”
He looked ready to throw up.
“I care about you, Gray. Deal with it.”
* * *
The summons came in the form of a phone call. Gray, still shaken by his earlier argument with Sam, answered it and was not surprised to hear an anonymous male voice say merely, “Come now. And bring the woman.”
Apparently, Proctor was into power plays and intimidation. Good to know. Not that such amateur tactics would work on a trained operative like him. Still, he was worried sick about Sam. Stubborn, brave, foolish Sam.
Gray glanced at her as she waited anxiously in the doorway of the kitchen for a report from him. She knew him too well and had recognized this was the call they’d been waiting for. He hung up the receiver without bothering to answer the man on the other end. Let Proctor stew a little.
“Looks like you’re coming along,” Gray told her grimly. Truth be told, he was relieved not to be going in alone. Sam’s eyesight was an invaluable asset to have on his side, as long as he managed to keep her with him and safe. Knowing Proctor, though, that would be a bit of a trick. But Proctor would inevitably underestimate Sam, and that was what made her such a valuable weapon.
“Wear something outrageous,” he instructed her quietly.
A grin broke across her face. “Roger that.” She disappeared into her bedroom, still grinning. Part of him cringed to see what she came up with, but a secret part of him was wildly eager to ogle her in something sexy.
She didn’t disappoint. She came out wearing a sheer, black lace bodysuit with random geometric leather shapes sewn onto it at strategic points. On top of that she wore leather chaps that barely qualified as decent. A loose tank top that hung off one shoulder suggestively and a skimpy little black tulle skirt completed the ensemble.
The outfit made it clear that her figure was as perfect as he’d suspected it would be. The post-apocalyptic triangular sunglasses were back, along with the high-heeled stiletto boots. She looked like a goth roller-derby queen. “This work for you?” she asked cheerfully, spinning around for him. He nearly choked on his coffee at how those chaps cupped her lace-clad derriere through the semitransparent skirt.
“Uhh, sure,” he managed to croak.
“Spectac-ulous!”
Apparently, she was in full-blown, bouncy-beach-girl mode, as well. In fact, if anything, she was trying too hard.
She was scared
. “You don’t have to go.”
She planted her hands on her hips and her hair swirled around her in a glorious display of crimson. “We’ve already had this fight, and I won. I’m going with you.”
He took a different tack. “Tell me this, then. Why are you afraid? What worries you about this outing?”
“I’ve been in a cult compound before. It’s the place I ran away from and left my mom.”
Her voice didn’t give away a thing. Immensely frustrated at his inability to read her, he reached out and gently removed her sunglasses. Her golden gaze met his in anguish. As he’d thought. She did hide behind her shades.
“Tell me about it, Sam.”
She shrugged, but the casual gesture obviously wasn’t casual at all. “They were an ‘end of the world is nigh’ bunch. My mom was a true believer and I wasn’t. I didn’t want to stick around and drink the cyanide fruit punch.”
He sensed her holding back. “What else happened there?”
She huffed. “Well, there was the cult leader who decided to make me his thirtieth or so wife, and at fifteen years old, I didn’t feel like having sex with a fat, bald guy in his fifties. So sue me.”
A fragile, hurt quality clung to her as he glimpsed the girl she must have been. “And your mother did nothing to protect you?”
Sam shook her head, and he stepped forward to wrap her in his arms. “I’m sorry, baby.”
He froze.
Baby
. That’s what he used to call Emily. It had just slipped out. But shockingly, the world didn’t end. Sam snuggled closer against his chest. He drew his next breath. The pain didn’t shred him. One second ticked into the next. Was it just a word after all? He hadn’t uttered it in five years. Had thought he’d never say it again. But lo and behold, the impossible had happened.
“Your mom failed you, Sam. You know that, right?”
“Yes.” She sighed against his chest. “I know it in my head. But it feels an awful lot like I did something wrong and she abandoned me.”
“You took action to defend yourself from rape. Action your mom should have taken for you. You were brave and strong.”
She laughed without even a hint of humor. “I’m not strong. I’ve just been faking it long enough to get good at it.”
He knew the feeling. “Had me fooled. And you really don’t have to go to Proctor’s place with me. You can stand off at a distance and keep an eye on me perfectly well.”