EDGE OF SHADOWS: The Shadow Ops Finale (Shadow Ops, Book # 3) (21 page)

“But Teresa said she’d take me to get some breakfast. I have to tell her where I’m going. That’s just rude not to.”

“Teresa has her hands full right now. And she doesn’t need or want to know where you’re going.” How to explain that the more Teresa knew, the longer and harder she’d be questioned if watching over Jay delayed her own bug-out? Kid knew what he and KC did, should be smart enough to read between the lines.

“Sure, she does. She’s been asking me all about school—”

“Yes, I know. T’s a saint, a freakin’ Mother Teresa.” He hadn’t meant the pun, but it kinda worked. “Listen. In a few minutes there are going to be about a dozen men in black vans pulling up and taking over the building. Anyone still inside is going to be having a very, very bad day—maybe even a week or month, vacationing inside a government facility.”

“So I need to warn Teresa?”

“No. You need to haul ass out of there so Teresa isn’t stuck taking care of you. Let her do her job, hear me?”

“Uh, yeah, okay,” Jay said sullenly. Finally. “Where should I go? You have the car.”

“You’re just going to have to walk.” He gave Jay directions to a McDonald’s nearby.

“Fast food? At least Teresa was going to take me out to a real restaurant.” Jay gave out a nervous chuckle, and Chase realized he was trying to make a joke. Kid had fallen into the rabbit hole these past few days and wasn’t used to operating on the edge of adrenaline like Chase and Billy were.

“It’s better than prison food,” he told Jay, trying to make light of the situation. “Should take you less than ten minutes. Stay on the line with me. Are you out the door yet?”

A pause. “Yeah, just passed through the security check.”

“Anyone following you? Paying extra attention?”

Another pause. “No. I don’t think so. There’s no one on the street.”

Chase relaxed a little. “Okay, I’ve got to go. You keep talking to Eve.”

“Who’s Eve?”

“A friend. You’ll like her. She goes to Georgetown, too.” He passed the phone to Eve while he grabbed another burner phone from the stash they’d picked up at Rose’s place. “Billy? Jay’s on board. He’s clear of the building, heading over to the rendezvous now.”

“Good.”

“Any luck finding KC? She with the FBI or where?” Chase couldn’t explain it, probably all this bug-out shit, but he felt like he needed to see KC. Now. Needed his hand on hers, to hear her voice again, see her determined smile. Plus, they needed the extra pair of hands and eyes. Not to mention a complete set of legs. Boy, had he picked a lousy time to fall out of a crashing helicopter.

“Still working on it.” Billy’s tone was clipped. Right. He was juggling making calls, driving, and watching their backs.

A few minutes later, they reached the McDonald’s. Eve honked the horn, and Jay ran out, carrying a large bag of food.

“Hope you brought enough to share,” Chase said as he jumped into the backseat.

“Yep. Eve said you guys hadn’t eaten. It wiped me out, though.” Jay stuck his hand out between the front seats. “Got any cash?”

Least of their worries, thanks to Rose. “First, give me your cell phone.”

“Sure. Why?”

Chase took the cell, stripped the battery and SIM card then tossed the body out the window, followed by the battery. The SIM card he snapped in two.

“Hey!” Jay protested. “What the hell?”

“Basic operational security,” Eve answered. “They can track your phone, even if you turn it off.”

“They? Who the hell is they?” Jay said. “First, KC hijacks me—despite my having exams—but I go along to help take care of Chase. Then, we’re in the middle of a shootout last night, but I don’t say anything. I just do what I’m told. And now, you threaten me with prison. It’s about damn time that someone tells me who the hell is after us!”

Kid had a point. Chase just wished he had answers. “By now we’re probably on every law enforcement watch list.”

“Because of what happened in Georgia. They think Rose and all of us are involved, right?”

“Yeah. But they’re wrong. What happened in Georgia was a set-up.”

“But the good guys are still after us. And who are the bad guys? The ones who set us up?”

“That would be the traitor who’s been feeding info to the Preacher’s people and Grigor,” Eve replied. Chase was surprised to see a thin-lipped grimace twist her mouth. Realized that despite her being twenty-four hours late in getting in on the game, she was already way ahead of Jay. “But we’re going to find them. And find Rose.”

Chase wasn’t sure if he liked the determination and passion that cut through her voice. It reminded him of himself at nineteen—a grunt in the Marines, deployed and facing enemy fire for the first time. By nineteen, he’d already killed more than once, but wasn’t old enough to appreciate the wisdom that came with surviving. That came later, much later.

Eve and Jay were the same age, but Eve had definitely learned a lot from Rose during their year together. Maybe too much.

He glanced at Jay, now relaxed and chomping on a hamburger. Maybe there was something to be said about being young and naïve.

Then Jay frowned, staring at Eve. “You’re the girl Rose met yesterday at Georgetown.”

Chase startled, hand falling to his weapon. Eve merely nodded. “She came to say good-bye. Told me to get out of DC, go into hiding. Said she had a feeling something bad was coming. Even gave me a fake passport.”

“But you stayed,” Jay said. “You didn’t run.” He glared at Chase as if Chase was responsible for the mess they were all in. “You didn’t hide.”

“I figured no one knew where I was or who I was, so what was the point? And if something happened to Rose, I wanted Price to find me—she always said I could trust him if I needed help.” A tiny sigh escaped her lips. “Besides, I only found Rose less than a year ago, felt like we were just starting to get to know each other. I wasn’t giving that up. Not without a fight.”

<><><>

“
He broke you,
” the man with the knife said in satisfaction. He traced Rose’s scars with the point of his blade. “And then what did Grigor do?”

Rose looked away, both to gather strength and because he expected her to. “Are you taking me to Grigor now? Is that where we’re going?”

He laughed again, shaking his head. “No. Grigor is dead. We used part of the money he gave us to pay an assassin to slip him a dose of aconitum in his wine.”

Aconitum. Deadly poison, looked like a heart attack. Too easy of an end for a monster like Grigor. She blinked, her heart steadying, beating without pain or fear. Grigor dead.

Which left only these bozos and the rest of the Preacher’s people to deal with.

That she could handle.

“Grigor’s dead?” She allowed a trace of hope to enter her voice, knowing he would want to dash it immediately.

“That’s right, Rose. We killed Grigor.” He straddled her, his face inches away from hers, knife pressed against her cheek, the point just below her eye. “If we can do that to a powerful man like him, a man working with us, a man who shared many of our goals and beliefs, think what we’re going to do to the woman who destroyed our father and killed our brothers.”

In a flash, the memory of those final moments with Grigor passed through her mind. She’d chosen life. Grigor had responded by first kissing her tenderly, and then abandoning her to his men with instructions to flay and burn her alive alongside the boy. “Don’t kill either,” he’d told his men. “They’ll both live for a long time, helpless, examples to anyone who dares defy me.”

Then he’d left. She’d quivered in the corner, the boy had cursed her with all his remaining strength, while the guards laughed and kicked her like a cowering dog. They’d turned to gather the chains to hang her with, and she’d seen her chance. Grabbing the bottle of grain alcohol and the blowtorch, she’d lit them on fire then took their weapons and keys when they fell. She’d left them alive, barely, but did use a knife to end the boy’s suffering before racing down the cellblock, freeing the other prisoners.

Her Razgravian rebel friends, led by KC’s grandfather, had already stormed the prison’s outer walls. If she’d timed things a few minutes later, held out for just five more minutes, KC’s grandfather would have rescued her—and caught Grigor.

As it was, Grigor escaped and his men shot KC’s grandfather. He’d died in Rose’s arms.

This man beside her now, this man who aspired to become another Grigor, would not escape.

“Please, no,” she begged, distracting him and the driver with her sudden cry.

“Hey, remember our orders,” the driver snapped. “We're supposed to deliver her alive.”

The man on top of Rose turned to answer. She couldn’t have choreographed it better.

“Relax,” the man told the driver. “I’m only just getting started.”

Rose slipped the Paracord around his neck. She crossed her hands and pulled tight, jerking hard, pulling him down behind the seat, below the driver’s sightline. Bucking and twisting her body, she dropped her weight against his knife hand, pinning it uselessly against the floor, her entire body leveraging the garrote.

“Stop it. Please, don’t,” she yelled to cover the sounds of his choking, his guttural gasps as his face turned a nice shade of purple. She glanced at the driver and saw him looking forward out the windshield, chuckling to himself at the sounds of her screams.

“Save some fun for the rest of us,” the driver called.

“Absolutely,” she whispered under her breath and pulled the cord even tighter until, finally, a thin line of drool dropped from the man’s lips and he was breathing no more.

She pushed him aside and turned to crouch behind the driver. “Your turn.”

Chapter 22

Rose thought her problems were over once she dumped the bodies and reached a truck stop where she could call in to Billy—until she saw the news reports about a female terrorist bombing a warehouse in Savannah and presumably dying in the blast.

The news didn’t ID her by name, but they didn’t have to. Someone had given them a crazy-ass picture of her from a training op that made her look like a lunatic. Shit. They also didn’t mention KC. Had she gotten out okay? The feds probably had poor EZ in lockdown; questioning him about the intel he’d provided her. Maybe the rest of the team as well.

Worse, Eve would have heard. They’d known each other such a short time—would she believe the lies?

She had to get home. To Eve. To Billy. To her team.

After using change pillaged from the two dead men's wallets to grab whatever protein she could from the vending machines and stealing some clothing from the general store area, taking care to steer clear of any surveillance cameras like the ones near the cash register, she went for the fastest transportation available: a Yamaha motorcycle freshly filled with gas.

If she avoided any speed traps and cops, she’d be home in less than an hour. As she sped along the back roads, avoiding the interstate, her mind raced ahead. If Billy thought she was dead, he’d have gotten her letter to Eve. But if the feds suspected her team, then they might also learn about Eve…and if they knew, then there was a good chance the traitor could know as well.

Rose pulled over to the shoulder, gravel spitting as she braked. She barely made it to the guardrail before she puked her guts out. How could she possibly stay detached and professional when she had Eve to worry about?

Selfish, selfish, selfish. She’d tried to send Eve away, but the girl was so naïve, so excited to find her real mother, that she’d refused to go. Rose wiped her mouth clean on the back of her sleeve. Should have run away herself—almost had. She’d thought about quitting the Team, quitting everything, just vanishing in the night to parts unknown. Anywhere far enough away from Eve to keep her daughter safe.

Told herself she would if there was the slightest hint of danger. Told herself big, fat, selfish lies about how she could protect Eve.

She hadn’t counted on something like this. This went beyond anything the traitor had done before. Setting up fake intel, getting Grigor to cooperate, discrediting not only Rose but the entire team.

Someone who could pull the strings to make all that happen…they could find Eve.

Chills overtook her as she climbed back on to the bike. Best-case scenario, they’d take Eve in for questioning. Worst case…Rose broke every speed limit possible, reaching DC just before nine o’clock. She had stashes all over the area, people she’d helped over the years who returned the favor by letting her keep a footlocker in their storage unit or a vehicle in their garage or even giving her keys to their business so she could crash there if need be.

When she was with the CIA, they’d called it recruiting assets. Treated it like a necessary evil: trusting anyone outside of the agency.

“Prepare for the worst, hope for the best” was their motto. Rose had adopted it, not as a motto, but as a way of life.

But she didn’t recruit assets. She built relationships. Friendships. People she’d die to protect. People who risked their lives helping her. Like KC’s grandfather, who’d been killed while rescuing her from the Razgravian prison the CIA had left her to rot in.