Falcon: The Quiet Professionals Book 3 (25 page)

This didn’t make sense. Not one iota. Candyman working against them? That made him an enemy. That made Eamon’s next move necessary.

“Don’t.” Candyman growled, pushing up into his face. “I see it in your eyes, Aussie. I see your readiness to cut me down.”

Eamon tapped his arm, indicating his willingness to talk.

Candyman eased off.

“Burnett sent me here.”

“Burnett’s
dead
,” Candyman hissed and let his arm fall away.

“Just because a senior officer dies or leaves doesn’t mean the mission is abandoned. Or maybe you forgot something about loyalty once you got out.” When the pressure lessened, Eamon shoved his arm away and took a step back. “Meng-Li Jin is the primary suspect in the attacks against your brothers-in-arms. Or do you already know that—?”

“No!” Candyman’s shoulders rose, the threat screaming through his posture. “You don’t get to put this off on me. You’re here, on private property that belongs to Sajjan.”

Eamon rubbed his neck and stretched it, making sure to emphasize how Candyman had gone against someone who had once been on the same side with him. “Sajjan. First-name basis.”

“He’s my wife’s stepfather. I think that gives me the right to use his name. Now—”

“Does it also give you the right to change loyalty? Why aren’t you with Raptor?”

Candyman looked ready to eat him alive. “I’m walking out of here. But if I find you snooping around here again”—he shook his head and shrugged—“no promises on how it ends next time.” He started toward the doors. “Clear out, Titanis. Game’s over.”

“It’s not over till someone wins. Are you helping Meng-Li win? I thought you were a Green Beret. An American patriot.”

Candyman pivoted. Fists balled. “There are things you don’t know about. Things that make what you’re doing here deadly for everyone involved.”

CHAPTER 20

Kandahar Airfield, Afghanistan
2 April—1340 Hours

I
gotta say—it’s buggin’ me that she didn’t defend herself or argue,” Hawk said.

Sal slid a mean look in his direction.

“What?” Hawk lifted his arms in surrender—and cringed, his face twisting in a knot of pain. “I’m just sayin’—if you’re innocent, you scream it all the way to holding.”

“Unless you can’t,” Sal heard himself say.

“What do you mean?” Titanis settled cozy-close to Brie Hastings, his big Oz shoulders pressed to hers, as the two leaned in to the camera of the live feed from Takkar Towers.

“I mean,” Sal said, wondering why he was defending her, “when we’re taken captive, we’re trained to say only certain things. To not give information or defend ourselves.”

“So, you’re saying she’s one of us?” Hawk snorted.

With a quick shake of his head, Sal grunted. “I’m saying, whoever she is working for trained her well—trained her not to give away intel when she’s scared or questioned.” He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. And he certainly didn’t like it.

“Brie—get ahold of Phelps.” Dean waited as Hastings left the room then went to the table. “You want to tell us what you two were talking about out there?”

Sal could more than relate to Cassie’s silence right now. “Not particularly.” But that wouldn’t do, and he knew it. “Suffice it to say, she and I have a past. It wasn’t pretty. Still isn’t.”

“You still soft on her?”

Sal met his friend’s gaze and held it. Dean’s question wasn’t about Sal’s love interest with Cassie. He was testing the waters of brotherhood. “My loyalty is to the team.”

Dean nodded. “Good to know.”

But Sal had recognized the name Cassie flung out there. “Who’s Phelps?”

“That’s the bugger of it all,” Dean said. “He’s the Associate Director for Military Affairs.”

“Is that supposed to mean something?” Hawk asked.

“It means were in a crapload of trouble,” Harrier finally spoke from the corner. “He’s working in conjunction with the CIA.”

“More spooks!”

“Hold up,” Sal said. “CIA? But you just accused Andra of working with a foreign intelligence service.”

“I named the man she met with,” Dean corrected. “I wanted her to explain it.”

“But if you knew she was working with spies, you also knew she couldn’t talk openly, yet you called her onto the carpet in front of us and outsiders.” Sal met Riordan’s gaze. “No offense.”

“I called her onto the carpet because she’s putting us at risk. If she’s doing it now, did she do it earlier—is she the reason the base was attacked? The reason Burnett was killed?”

“Burnett put her on the team!” Sal shouted.

“That’s a lot of anger for a guy whose history with her is ugly,” Titanis said.

Ignoring the statement would only add fuel to it, but Sal had no idea how to respond because he didn’t know why he was so angry. Something in him didn’t want Cassie to be this person. But after all her lies, why should he even care? “I knew her, yes. And that’s why I’m saying something isn’t right. Andra—”

“I thought her name was Cassandra.” Hawk shrugged.

Biting down on his aggravation, Sal huffed. “Lieutenant Walker and I might have our
differences
”—a nice way of putting it—“but she’s not the type of person to—”

“Get someone killed?” Dean’s words held challenge and understanding. A knowledge of things past. “I need to hear you say this woman is 100 percent trustworthy. That we can put our lives in her hands and you’d be comfortable with that.”

The next breath burned Sal’s lungs. His defense of her fell away with the potent reminder of Vida’s death. She had admitted she wanted Vida out of the way. He’d called her a killer. All these years of blaming Cassie and holding her responsible… He couldn’t respond. What he’d felt, the names he’d called her, had been colored out of anger—at her, but also at himself.

Dean lifted his head as Sal stood there, considering the demand. Fighting himself. Fighting to understand what he felt and why he felt it.

He’d loved her. Slept with her. Apparently, even fathered a child with her. Yet he couldn’t stand before his band of brothers and defend her? At her core, she was a decent person. He knew that. Believed it, once he dug past the crap and heartache piled between them.

Grumblings sifted through the room as his silence lingered, objections growing louder on a tidal wave of hesitation.

“What if she has intelligence we need to bring down Jin?”
Is that the best you can do?

“So what?” Hawk held up his hands. “We’re supposed to sleep with the enemy because she might have intel that helps us? What if our assistance helps her?”

Sal balled his fists.

“Hawk.” Dean locked eyes with Sal. “Easy.”

“Naw, man. She’s been lying, so how do we know where that stops? How do I know the bullet I ate wasn’t her fault, that she isn’t working with the enemy?”

“Define enemy,” Sal said. “Even if she’s working for the South Koreans… she’d still have intel we can use.”

“
If
you can get it out of her.” Hawk had a pinecone up his craw.

“I
can
get it out of her,” Sal snapped.

The door flung open and Hastings rushed in, her freckled cheeks flushed. “Phelps is here.”

Dean turned to Sal. “With me.”

“What happened?”

Cassie came to her feet as the stoic voice rang through the cement cell. “General Phelps.”

“What happened, Walker?” He motioned to her cut-up face. “And that?”

“Sir, they saw my visit to Takkar Towers as an attempt to sway Kiew Tang from Meng-Li Jin. I think they tried to have me killed.”

“Say what?” He scowled at her then at his aide. “What is she talking about?”

The lanky uniformed major shrugged. “No clue, sir.”

Phelps rubbed his jaw as his gaze scraped over her. “Walker, you went MIA six weeks ago.”

“What?” Cassie frowned. “No, sir. I’ve been right here, working my assignment.”

“What assignment?” Phelps growled. “We’ve been trying to track you down and reestablish contact for the last six weeks.”

“Sir. You sent me here, had me work with Burnett.”

“Yes, then you were ordered to return to D.C.”

She drew back. “I received no such order. After we determined Meng-Li was involved, I was assigned to Raptor team. It took me longer than it should have, but I finally figured out I was put in place because of my longstanding friendship with Kiew Tang. Gearney has had me working on that since.”

“Gearney?” Phelps’s eyes had a laser-like effect to them, narrowing in on her, slicing her words apart like a heat-seeking missile. “Walker, maybe you should start from the beginning.”

Cassie gripped the bar, Hastings’s words ringing through her brain like a brass gong. “Sir, I confess I’m pretty unsettled right now. Gearney—does he work for us?”

“Depends on who your ‘us’ is, Walker.” The major, a handsome man with salt-and-pepper trimming his dark hair, smirked. He had a thick chest and his name patch read P
ENNER.
“When did you get first contact from Gearney?”

Her stomach threatened to hurl its contents on the lieutenant general. She took a step back, reaching for the small cot. “Back when Raptor was hunting down the source of the cyber attacks. As my new handler, he told me the network had been compromised and not to trust anything that came through normal channels.”

“And you believed him?”

“Watching elite special operators getting blown up by supposed communications from their own people—yes, sir. I believed that completely.” Cassie warned herself to calm down, slow her breathing. She’d done nothing wrong here. “He gave me a new phone, told me to report in weekly.”

Phelps sighed heavily then pointed to the cot. “Why don’t you tell us what you know?”

“So, he
doesn’t
work for us?”

With a shake of his head, Phelps again pointed to the steel-frame bed. “I’m afraid not.”

Cassie dropped onto the mattress, springs digging into her thighs. She wrapped her arms around herself. “I can’t believe it. First time in the field and…”

“I’m pretty sure Gearney saw you as a soft target for just that reason—your first time out.” Major Penner didn’t sound condescending, but somehow it still came across that way. “You were gung ho on proving you could handle the mission, as any fresh blood would be.”

Phelps cleared his throat. “Just tell us what’s happened since Gearney inserted himself.”

The entire last month? “I… I made contact with my friend, Kiew Tang. Gearney seemed really interested in my reestablishing contact with her.”

“Of course he did.” Phelps lowered himself to the cot beside her. “If he could get you to draw her out, then they’d have a hefty anchor over Meng-Li’s head.”

“She’s a friend, so once I realized what he wanted me to do, I tried to get her to come out without compromising our friendship.”

“So, you were willing to compromise your commitment to your job, even though it wasn’t a real situation?” Major Penner’s green eyes held fast.

“Leave her alone,” Phelps said, waving him off. “Walker, you work for the CIA. There are going to be times—like this one—that you have to do something you normally wouldn’t do. What you have to believe is that we’d only ask if it was absolutely necessary.”

“Wait.” Cassie looked between the two of them. “You still want me to get her?”

“Of course!” Phelps laughed. “Walker, Kiew Tang isn’t your friend—not in this scenario. I need you to see past that.”

See past that
. Like it was something nebulous or nonexistent.

The
scritch-squeak
of approaching boots on the vinyl floor made them all turn toward the door. Captain Watters and Sal came into view around the corner.

“Captain,” Phelps said. “Nice of you to join us.”

The four men exchanged handshakes and greetings, which were kept short. Captain Watters skidded a look in her direction. “I have questions, sir.” He turned back to the general.

“Of course you do.” He clapped him on the back. “First of which is to absolve Lance of any deception. He didn’t know why Walker was sent here. And as it turns out, she was the unwitting pawn of a South Korean spy.”

“Gearney.”

“Seems he managed to convince her he was her new handler.”

“Handler.” Sal bit the word out. His jaw muscle popped with tension. “So she’s a
spook
. She lied to us.”