Until Death Do Us Part

Until Death Do Us Part [Incognito Series Book 2] by Karen Wiesner Whiskey Creek Press www.whiskeycreekpress.com Copyr...

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Until Death Do Us Part [Incognito Series Book 2] by Karen Wiesner

Whiskey Creek Press www.whiskeycreekpress.com

Copyright ©2006 by WHISKEY CREEK PRESS

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Until Death Do Us Part [Incognito Series Book 2] by Karen Wiesner

UNTIL DEATH US DO PART: Book 2 of the Incognito Series by Karen Wiesner WHISKEY CREEK PRESS www.whiskeycreekpress.com

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Until Death Do Us Part [Incognito Series Book 2] by Karen Wiesner

Published by WHISKEY CREEK PRESS Whiskey Creek Press PO Box 51052 Casper, WY 82605-1052 www.whiskeycreekpress.com Copyright © 2006 by Karen Wiesner Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. ISBN 1-59374-697-0 4

Until Death Do Us Part [Incognito Series Book 2] by Karen Wiesner

Credits Cover Artist: Karen Wiesner Editor: Dave Field Printed in the United States of America

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Until Death Do Us Part [Incognito Series Book 2] by Karen Wiesner

Other Books by Author Available at Whiskey Creek Press: www.whiskeycreekpress.com Tales from the Treasure Trove, Volume I (An Anthology with Karen's traditional romance, "The Amethyst Angel") Small Gifts (An Anthology with Karen's inspirational romance, "A Home for Christmas") Treasures of the Heart (An Anthology with Karen's contemporary romance, "A Rose for Romeo") No Ordinary Love: Book 1 of the Incognito Series Tales From the Treasure Trove, Volume II (An Anthology with Karen's futuristic romance, "The Amethyst Star")

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Until Death Do Us Part [Incognito Series Book 2] by Karen Wiesner

The Network The Network is the world's most covert organization with underground headquarters in Chicago beneath a front technology company called ETI. Having unchallenged authority and skill to disable and destroy criminals, the Network takes over where regular law enforcement leaves off in the mission for absolute justice. The price for that justice is high, requiring the life of every man and woman who serves. For them, there is no life and no love, only duty. Organizational Hierarchy Oversight Committee: #1 (1st in Command): Captain Shannon McKee, Head in Washington, D.C. Level 1 Operatives: #2 (2nd in Command) Giles Jameson, Liaison between Oversight and the Network #3 (3rd in Command): Angelo Pluzetti, Head of Operations #4 (4th in Command): Captain Ron Blair, Master Strategist #5 (5th in Command): Hunter Savage, Head Team Leader/Mission Coordinator Level 2 Lead Operatives: Jocelyn Dominica, Psychiatrist Rockwell 'Vlad' Vlademar, Weapons Master Cara 'Inspector Gadget' Ross, Technology Justine Fielding, Comm & Systems Analyst Dr. Celine Savage, Medical Level 3 Field Operatives: Alpha Team: 7

Until Death Do Us Part [Incognito Series Book 2] by Karen Wiesner

Kirsten Ulrick, Leader Ashton Barnett, 1st Position Beta Team: Noah Harlow, Leader Rhiannon Murray, 1st Position Fiona Verbena, 2nd Position Level 4 Field Operatives: Kyle Vincent, Red Team Leader (MIA)* Dez Luttino, 2nd Position, Green Team Level 5 Field Operatives: Natalie Francis, 5th Position, Green Team *No Ordinary Love, Book 1 of the Incognito Series

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Until Death Do Us Part [Incognito Series Book 2] by Karen Wiesner

Prologue "Is my jet ready?" The distant sound of Network Oversight Head Shannon McKee's voice—flinty, uncompromising, yet feminine—was followed by an impatient growl for the person she spoke to on the other end of the phone line. While eavesdropping from her hiding place in McKee's house, Kirsten Ulrick found herself even more confused about the mission she'd been called into literally at the eleventh hour. She knew only that Captain Shannon McKee, 1st in Command in the covert organization they both served, was in danger. "How much longer?" McKee demanded after a short pause in the phone conversation. "Belay that. As soon as I've packed, I'll head to the hangar myself." Kirsten's commanding superior, Angelo Pluzetti, wasn't far from her in the darkness of McKee's kitchen, and she would follow his lead, even if it was blindly this time. As one of the highest ranking operatives in the Network, Kirsten knew this mission could lead to greater things for her. But she wasn't thinking about any of that now. Her mind was fully on the task at hand. From the living room, McKee's voice softened slightly. "I'll take all necessary precautions. Expedite preparations on your end." A soft beep was followed by more dialing, then another growl of frustration. Then McKee's footsteps came suddenly closer, and Kirsten tensed in her position near the broom 9

Until Death Do Us Part [Incognito Series Book 2] by Karen Wiesner

cabinet until she realized the rapid click of heels crossed over her head. McKee was going upstairs, probably to pack. Seconds later, the anticipated burst of static from Kirsten's earpiece told her it was time to move in. Instantly she rose. She strode swiftly through the room, knowing where she was going even in the darkness with the aid of her night vision goggles, and she worked even quicker to disable the house security system. Angelo had to know as well as she did that Shannon McKee had had a lifetime of special operations training before she took over the organization—it wouldn't take her long to realize she wasn't alone. Almost imperceptibly came the swish of movement nearby. The lights in the living room and hall went out abruptly. Shannon had detected them. Task completed, Kirsten flew soundlessly into her final position, holding her gun out in front of her. McKee fired, but it was clear she knew their position just as well as they knew hers because she missed intentionally. Kirsten had no doubt she'd aimed—to miss—at Angelo, who came out of hiding, his sheer size and muscular build silhouetted in Kirsten's goggles. "You could have knocked on the front door, Angelo," Shannon muttered dryly. As Kirsten waited for Angelo's command, she conceded what she'd suspected all day. The Network had been breached at some point after she heeded Angelo's call to come to him without question and without telling anyone, and that meant no one was safe. As Head of the Oversight Committee governing the organization, Shannon would be the first one targeted. The Network was a covert organization 10

Until Death Do Us Part [Incognito Series Book 2] by Karen Wiesner

playing a vital role in the survival of the human race in a time when terrorist groups and criminals were running rampant. If the Network was disabled ... The nation's security hung in the balance. Like any organization, the Network was funded by and answered to the government. The only difference between the Network and the FBI or CIA was that the Network was completely anonymous in the world. Very few knew of its existence. Because it didn't answer to the public, it took over effectively where regular law enforcement left off. Justice could be served without interference. But keeping the organization anonymous was an everyday battle that they upheld at any cost. Angelo, Master Strategist and Network Recruiter, lowered his gun at the same moment McKee did. "It's been ten hours since I've been in communication with the Network. The signal's been blocked. What the hell's going on?" McKee demanded. Kirsten was surprised. She'd received a terse phone call from Angelo when she was at home, just hours before she was scheduled to report for a mission briefing. He'd told her to leave Chicago immediately and follow his orders to the letter along the way, no questions asked. As he'd specified, she'd told no one—not even her superiors who were expecting her for the upcoming mission that evening—and she'd made sure she wasn't followed to Washington D.C. She met Angelo, and they came straight to Shannon's luxurious home. He'd again given her explicit directions, but he explained nothing. 11

Until Death Do Us Part [Incognito Series Book 2] by Karen Wiesner

What could have compromised the security of the Network in the hours since she left Chicago? While it frustrated Kirsten not to have all the answers, she couldn't allow her emotions to take precedence. As soon as McKee was safe and they were on their way to the Network compound, hidden from the world in an underground bunker beneath a legitimate business, Angelo would explain. She'd be patient until then. When McKee reached for the lights, Angelo shook his head, putting a finger to his lips. "We don't have time to talk," he said softly. "We have to get out of here now." Angelo signaled across the room. Crouched low, a young girl who'd been with Angelo since Kirsten met up with him moved to his side. He hadn't explained who the girl was, but Kirsten's instincts told her she had very little formal training. The girl wore a black handkerchief over long, reddish-brown hair. Her narrow eyes were shining with the glow of breathless excitement. Though all was quiet, Kirsten realized it'd become far too quiet. She sensed they were being surrounded at this very moment. Shannon quickly pointed toward the bookcase on the far end of the room, near the fireplace. Angelo nodded, removing several circular, black objects from his pocket. Kirsten recognized the gas smoke screens as Angelo skimmed them across the floor toward the kitchen, the dining room and the foyer. In seconds, the rooms were plunged into a billowing cloud of white. They had only minutes. Kirsten pulled out a handkerchief and covered her mouth. 12

Until Death Do Us Part [Incognito Series Book 2] by Karen Wiesner

Behind the wet bar, the windows exploded with gunfire. The three of them hit the floor defensively, stifling the need to cough, as windows all over the house shattered and bullets whizzed over them. The girl drew her gun, but Kirsten stopped her. Any gunfire, and their enemy would pinpoint their location in a heartbeat. Kirsten didn't have time to be annoyed about the presence of someone she now assessed was a civilian in this. Angelo shoved the girl toward the bookcase, jerked his head at Shannon, then Kirsten, to follow while he laid down another smoke screen in the living room. The bullets flooded the room like relentless raindrops as Kirsten crawled beside McKee across the room on the heels of the girl. The girl choked and gagged against the smoke and dust filling the room. Impatiently, Kirsten dove forward and yanked the handkerchief off her head, shoving it in front her face. Keeping her head as low as possible, McKee raised her hand and fumbled for the button that opened the bookcase panel. Kirsten pushed the girl inside, waiting until Angelo reached them, then backed in after McKee. The panel closed behind them, and McKee bent low to find the indentation to raise the passage door through the floor. Hearing the girl retching in the darkness of the small space they occupied, McKee muttered what Kirsten wanted to know herself: "Who the hell is this, Angelo? Your girlfriend?" Why would Angelo drag a civilian into this? Kirsten knew for damn sure that this green kid hadn't been in The Shop. She didn't have the most basic training when it came to 13

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tactics under assault conditions. She wasn't one of theirs, so who was she? Angelo didn't answer as he helped the girl find the ladder and her footing. "Come on," McKee hissed. They followed her, moving even faster when the gunfire outside ceased abruptly. Whoever had been shooting at them was coming inside. As soon as Angelo had cleared the top of the ladder, Kirsten climbed on. She held the passage door as she slid down, closing it behind her. Angelo had already found the light bulb in the tiny room, and he unlocked the cabinets. He handed the girl an automatic rifle and ammunition, and she had the sense to look chagrined about her performance thus far when she reluctantly took them. Kirsten was at least glad to see that the excitement had left her eyes. "Do you have a transport?" McKee asked quietly, filling her pockets with grenades and extra ammunition for the M-16. "Van. Plumbing logo on the side. A couple blocks from here, to the west." Angelo handed her a set of keys, along with microdisks in a clear, protective jacket. McKee glanced up, an eyebrow raised, and Angelo shook his head, saying only, "Later. Everything you need to know is there." Two small disks account for the attempted execution of the Head of the Network? Kirsten marveled. Shannon McKee put them in the inner pocket of her jacket. "We need a distraction. I'll lay down grenades to cover your retreat." 14

Until Death Do Us Part [Incognito Series Book 2] by Karen Wiesner

Angelo shook his head. "Negative. You're essential. The Network's finished if you don't get to the compound tonight. I'll lay down the retreat. Ulrick will take care of you and the girl." "I can take care of myself," the girl claimed. Everyone ignored the kid's unwarranted confidence. Much as McKee might have wanted to argue about the situation, they didn't have the time, and Angelo was right. Shannon was the one who had the power to salvage the Network, if it was even possible. She nodded. Above them, they could hear the sound of coughing and many feet crunching on the broken glass covering the floor. Shannon switched off the light and led the way to the door leading up to an alcove built on the side of the house, without possibility of entry from the outside. After she released the locks, Angelo slid in front of her, carefully opening the door a crack. When he'd confirmed there was no movement or presence in the general area, he slipped out. A heartbeat later, he signaled to them and they emerged. After scanning the area, Kirsten put her mouth to the girl's ear. "Follow me. Don't do anything stupid." She nodded, a heated look coming into her eyes. Kirsten glanced at McKee, who also nodded. Angelo signaled her to head out, and then Kirsten darted out across the lawn to the hedge surrounding the property. The girl and Shannon were right behind her, crouching on the ground with her when they reached the edge of the sidewalk. The way was clear. Everyone was probably inside the house or on the other side. Kirsten made another dart further 15

Until Death Do Us Part [Incognito Series Book 2] by Karen Wiesner

out, into the next property, #1 and the girl right behind her, while Angelo stayed back to cover their retreat. Kirsten screwed the silencer she'd taken from the underground passage on her handgun. She aimed it at the bulbs of the two nearest street lamps on the side of the street they were on, and then the two across the street, taking them out. Blackness shrouded over them, and she didn't wait for anyone back at the house to notice it. They were halfway across the street when Kirsten realized the girl wasn't on their heels this time. Someone shouted from the front of the house, Angelo threw the grenades, but even in the resulting explosion, men poured out of the house, firing wildly. When Kirsten saw the girl go down, she swore. "Take cover," she advised McKee before doubling back. She didn't wait to check if the girl was alive or dead. She picked her up, swung her over her shoulder and ran while firing at those advancing toward them. Everything inside her rebelled at the idea of leaving not only her supervisor but her mentor behind to cover them, but Kirsten knew her duty was to keep Shannon McKee alive at all costs. Without Shannon, the Network would fall into the hands of a mad genius who'd kept their success rate up but who only performed his duty honorably when flanked by those who kept him in line. Shannon was the forerunner in keeping Giles Jameson, current Head of Operations, under strict moral control. Kirsten saw Angelo, firing controlled bursts that hit their mark every time, step out into the middle of the street, 16

Until Death Do Us Part [Incognito Series Book 2] by Karen Wiesner

blocking the path between Shannon and the assassins who'd come here tonight to kill her. Lowering her own weapon, Kirsten concentrated on getting McKee and the girl to the safety of the van. She heard the girl groan behind her back, but kept going until they reached their transport. Yanking open the sliding door and tossing the girl on the floor, she didn't stop to ask her how she was. Shannon got in the passenger's seat. The girl groaned again. Kirsten turned to look down at her. "Where are you hit?" "Thigh," the girl told her through gritted teeth. Kirsten eased back and saw blood oozing steadily out of her right leg. The bone was intact. She'd taken the bullet in the meaty part. "You'll live." She shoved the door closed and maneuvered into the driver's seat. After starting the van, she slammed it into gear. Shannon had slipped to the back of the van. She took off the handkerchief the girl had put on her head again in the passage and tied it tightly around her leg over the wound, ignoring her gasp of pain. Kirsten had only gone a block when she saw Angelo racing along the sidewalk. The fact that he wasn't being pursued told her their enemies were vehicling up as well. They didn't have much time. Kirsten urged Shannon to get down. After screeching to a halt, she leaned over to push open the passenger door. Angelo scolded her as soon as he was in, about coming back instead of going in the opposite direction. Kirsten ignored 17

Until Death Do Us Part [Incognito Series Book 2] by Karen Wiesner

him, wheeling the van around back up the street the way she'd come. "How many?" she demanded. "A handful. Less than six." Angelo glanced back at the girl, murmuring something to her that told Kirsten he had feelings for her, certainly enough to care if she lived or died. Surprisingly, the wounded female told him haughtily that she was fine. "Where did you pick her up?" Shannon asked. "New York." Kirsten frowned. New York? Why would Angelo be in New York when the Network was on the verge of a crisis? "What the hell's going on, Angelo?" McKee demanded. His gaze glued to the side mirror, the Network's third-incommand didn't look back at his superior. "Later," he said simply. Kirsten glanced in the rearview mirror to see they were being pursued. Two cars, three men each, so far as she could tell. One of the vehicles pulled closer to them, the men who weren't driving firing from open windows. Angelo shot back for a few seconds, then stood and dove into the back with Shannon. Behind her, Kirsten saw the girl drag herself up and along to the front, where she apparently was able to ignore her pain enough to begin shooting back. Despite her initial reservations, Kirsten couldn't help being impressed by her tenacity. The kid was a good enough shot that she hit one of the shooters in the car coming up alongside the passenger door, 18

Until Death Do Us Part [Incognito Series Book 2] by Karen Wiesner

and he dropped his rifle on the road. With barely a pause, he came up with another. Kirsten saw the other car coming up on the driver's side on the well-lit street. Instinctively, she ducked to the right just in time, and a bullet whizzed past her to puncture the dashboard. As her gaze fluctuated between the road in front of her and the cars on either side, she pushed the van into a higher gear. The girl made a noise of triumph, and Kirsten turned to see the car on the right spinning out of control. The girl had hit the driver, and he sagged back in his seat. The car slammed their backend as it fell behind, but Kirsten was able to hold the van steady. In back, Angelo and Shannon had taken out two of the men in the other car, but the driver was still shooting. Ducking low, Angelo came forward and disappeared from view behind Kirsten's seat. "Let him catch up," she heard him say. When she heard the sliding door ease open, she knew what Angelo was thinking. The girl apparently did, too. She crawled to the back, saying, "Give me one." Distantly in the rearview, Kirsten saw the other car, one of the two shooters out and trying to yank the dead driver from the front seat. She couldn't worry about them now—she kept her gaze darting between the closer car and the road ahead of him, waiting for the right moment to fly ahead. Angelo called out and, she saw two grenades soar through the open window of the chasing vehicle. She slammed her foot down on the gas. 19

Until Death Do Us Part [Incognito Series Book 2] by Karen Wiesner

Angelo had lurched half-out the open door at her acceleration, but she couldn't slow down. She heard the girl scream wildly, "Hold on, dammit!" The girl was panting in exertion, crying in pain as, Kirsten assumed, both her weight and Angelo's went onto her right thigh. She struggled to yank Angelo back inside the van with Shannon's help. Then everything became blocked out as the grenades exploded. The force of pressure slamming them forward must have helped because a few seconds later, Angelo was inside, ramming the door closed behind him. Because they had the advantage for the moment, Kirsten concentrated on losing the second car, which emerged three blocks behind her through the flames. As soon as she turned off a side-street, she killed the van lights and kept going. Behind her she heard Angelo scold, "I told you to curb those hotshot instincts, didn't I? You're not playing a game here, wildcat. You were supposed to follow Kirsten." "I thought you might need help," the girl muttered, obviously embarrassed by her multiple screw-ups back at the house. "I didn't. And you just landed yourself at least three months in Medical instead of The Shop. Believe me, for someone like you, Medical's gonna be a hell of lot harder to take. Celine won't allow you any action at all in there." Her tone was disgruntled as she said, "Personal experience, Pluzetti?", but a second later she was yelping in pain as Angelo tightened a new, make-shift dressing.

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Until Death Do Us Part [Incognito Series Book 2] by Karen Wiesner

So she was a new recruit, one who had very little field experience, Kirsten understood. Her earlier annoyance subsided as she made her way toward the freeway. Angelo moved into the front seat once more, asking, "We lose 'em?" Kirsten nodded, flipping on her lights as she came to the ramp leading to the freeway. A moment later, they headed for the hidden hangar where #1's personal jet would, no doubt, be ready for take-off. Behind them, Shannon said, "Good. Now, tell me what the hell's going on here, Angelo." He ignored the question, gave an almost imperceptible swerve of his glance toward the back of the van. "How much further is the hangar?" The girl, Kirsten remembered. Whatever information was on the micro-disks had to be sensitive enough for Angelo not to want to talk about it in front of a potential recruit. Kirsten grimaced in frustration. They'd have to wait, and her patience ran thin after the endless hours she'd been involved in this without a single explanation. "Not long," Shannon offered. "Who's the girl?" Kirsten glanced back in the rearview mirror. The girl's skin appeared unnaturally pale from the blood loss she'd sustained, yet, instead of resting the way she should have been, she sat there watching and listening to them like a hawk. Kirsten was beginning to understand why Angelo had chosen to recruit her. Green as she was, she had all the right instincts for life in the Network. "Kyle Vincent started her training." 21

Until Death Do Us Part [Incognito Series Book 2] by Karen Wiesner

Kyle ... ? Kirsten's gaze left the road and locked onto Angelo's haggard face. Kyle Vincent had been MIA for the past fifteen years, after disappearing, quite literally, with a subject—a kid who'd posed a potential breach in Network security. As a Level 3 operative, Kirsten was well-versed in MIA operatives— simply because they were so rare. Kyle Vincent was the only operative who'd ever escaped the Network. To this day, he and the subject remained missing. Kirsten knew Vincent had been a Level 4 operative, one of their best, and she sensed he'd been like a son to Angelo. "He's surfaced then?" Shannon asked. Angelo shook his head. "There's too much to get into right now. Let's leave it at the fact that Kyle started Piper's training, in order to protect Elizabeth Sheppard." There'd never been any confirmation that Kyle took tenyear-old Elizabeth Sheppard into the night and convincingly disappeared with her, but it was the logical conclusion. Considering the fifteen years he'd eluded them, the Network had trained him well. Kirsten was fairly certain Kyle had had help from the inside. Angelo must have gotten that elusive confirmation that Kyle had taken Elizabeth. "Piper?" Angelo jerked his thumb back toward the girl. "Piper Laslow." "How old is she?" "I'm sixteen," Piper said brashly, as though that made her a sage. "I'm old enough." 22

Until Death Do Us Part [Incognito Series Book 2] by Karen Wiesner

Shannon's icy gaze met hers in what would have effectively put any other recruit firmly in their inferior place. "Too old. If you know Kyle, you probably know he started his training when he was twelve." "Vincent ... Kyle started training me before I hit my double digits," she announced triumphantly. Angelo said softly, "She's seen too much. I had to bring her in." "She'll need a lot of work." "I know it." Kirsten didn't need to look back to see the girl's glare. Piper needed all the spit and fire she could get to survive training. When Kirsten turned down another unpaved road, the silhouette of the hangar rose into the night. Shannon moved to the front of the van, switching places with Angelo, and told Kirsten to flash the headlights in a signal to let the guards know who approached. As they neared the electric fence, one of the guards emerged from the clearance booth, his rifle lowered. The soldier did everything short of grin in giddy relief as he saluted Shannon. "Sir, you had us worried," the man said. "You didn't answer the summons, and we did a drive-by. Your home's a wreck. We assumed the worst." Kirsten could imagine the destruction they'd left behind them. Shannon patted herself down. "I must have dropped my phone while we escaped," she muttered, then looked at the guard. "My phone is MIA. Have it decommissioned immediately." "Understood." 23

Until Death Do Us Part [Incognito Series Book 2] by Karen Wiesner

"Is the jet prepped?" "Ready for take-off, sir. Have a safe flight." Shannon nodded, and the soldier released the gate lock. Angelo sighed as they were swallowed up into the hangar. Kirsten glanced back at him, noting the overgrowth of hair on his usually clean-shaven face. He looked leaner, more exhausted and infinitely more care-worn than the last time she'd seen him. She wondered how long it'd been since he'd had a meal or decent sleep. Hell, since he'd had a shower. He'd been through something recently, along with the girl and the rogue operative, Kyle Vincent. The fact that Angelo wasn't at the Network at their hour of crisis told her things were more out of control than they'd ever been before. The Network was funded by a major technology corporation designing innovative equipment both for public use—computers, cell and satellite phones, software and the like—and devices only the Network had access to. The corporation, Expanding Technology Industries—ETI— functioned exactly as a real business did, and was the perfect cover for the Network. Below the ETI skyscraper in Chicago, in an amazingly deep underground bunker, was the Network headquarters, inaccessible to anyone without clearance. The organization was sanctioned by the American government, but only the highest officials knew about it, including the President and a select committee in the White House, called Oversight. In the half-century the Network had been in existence, formed by the then-President of the United States along with Captain Tom McKee—a career officer and a decorated war hero—it had experienced surprisingly few 24

Until Death Do Us Part [Incognito Series Book 2] by Karen Wiesner

bumps. And, supervised in headquarters by McKee, Giles Jameson had almost unlimited power as #1 (1st in Command): Giles Jameson, Liaison between Oversight and the Network Tom McKee had been the first head of the Network. When he'd had been killed unexpectedly, his daughter—who'd also had a lifetime of military training—stepped in. Shannon McKee now filled her father's role of liaison between the government and the Network. For many years, as #1, Jameson made all decisions on running the day-to-day operations with very little interference from either of the McKees and the governments around the world. And for fifty years, they'd run at ninety-eight percent efficiency. In every single case, all previous situations had been contained before they reached melt-down. Shannon had often said she'd be damned if their efficiency rate went down a single point. When they got out of the van, Kirsten yanked back the side door. For the first time, the girl looked completely unsure of herself. The events of the evening seemed to have caught up, leave her apparently defenseless. Only when Angelo appeared did she relax slightly. Kirsten and Shannon glanced away when tears glistened in her cat-like eyes, neither accustomed to soft emotions. McKee's men approached, and Kirsten heard the girl complaining first that she could walk, didn't need to be carried, then about Angelo's immense height when he put an arm around her back to help her out of the van. They'll have their hands full training this one. 25

Until Death Do Us Part [Incognito Series Book 2] by Karen Wiesner

Saluting McKee, Shannon's pilot said in a too-polite way, "Glad to see you alive, sir." "At ease, Captain." "Plane ready for take-off on your command, sir." "Let's get in the air then." As soon as they were on board and altitude had been achieved, Kirsten unbuckled her seatbelt, saying, "I'll take care of the girl." Shannon nodded, her gaze on Angelo. "You take care of yourself in the meantime, Angelo. You can use my quarters." Predictably, Angelo insisted, "A shower can wait until I've debriefed you." Shannon shook her head, her military-short hair not moving an iota. "Do it. I need you in shape and thinking clearly for the debriefing. Food will be prepared by the time you're cleaned up." Angelo nodded wearily before striding toward the back of the jet. Kirsten was relieved. She wanted to be at that debriefing. Kirsten turned to Piper, who again looked on the edge of panic. "C'mon, let's get cleaned up. I'll check your dressing, have food brought to you, and then you can rest." As Kirsten helped the girl out of her seat, she saw Shannon go to her briefing table, pick up the satellite phone, and make to dial. Then the boss's grimace told her the signal was still blocked. They'd be at the compound within the next two hours though. By then, Angelo would have debriefed them fully and they could begin making plans. **** 26

Until Death Do Us Part [Incognito Series Book 2] by Karen Wiesner

Her long hair wet and uncombed, the girl was all but asleep when Kirsten brought a first aid kid into the guest cabin. She looked at the wound without fully removing the make-shift bandage. The last thing they needed was to have her bleeding again. She already looked deathly pale. Turning away from her, Kirsten loaded a syringe. "It's not bleeding. Dr. Savage's team will be able to remove the bullet when we arrive at the compound. Eat something and then sleep." "What's that?" "Something to help with the pain. And it'll help you sleep." The girl didn't try to hide her horrified reaction when Kirsten plunged the needle into her arm and pumped the morphine in. "Where's Angelo?" Food was delivered on a tray. Without answering Piper, Kirsten stood to leave her to it. Angelo was in the aircraft's briefing room, showered and shaved, wearing a robe. His clothes were no doubt being cleaned as best as they could be on the jet. Though he certainly smelled better, his eyes looked even more hollow from lack of sleep because his face wasn't hiding under a thick growth of beard. He devoured a sandwich quickly. "When's the last time you had any rest?" Shannon asked Angelo as Kirsten took a seat at the table and helped herself to the food. She would have liked a shower herself, but she wouldn't miss the debrief for anything. "There's no time—" 27

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"How long?" Shannon persisted. Angelo scrubbed at his heavily-browed eyes. "A week. More or less." "Is that how long you've been out of the Network?" Shannon picked up a sandwich from the platter. Nodding, Angelo exhaled. "What the hell is going on there?" Angelo tossed down a half-eaten sandwich. "What you probably already suspect. We've been compromised." Shannon barely inclined her head in acknowledgment while Kirsten's bite went unchewed for a long minute as she listened in dread. A pause hung in the air. "Jameson?" It was more of a statement than a question from McKee. "We've suspected his instability for a long time, but there was no proof." According to rumors among top level operatives, Giles Jameson's psych profiles were the same each month. Jocelyn Dominica, head of psychiatry within the Network, had been warning them for years that Giles—who had been #1 (1st in Command) and Liaison between Oversight and the Network— had learned how to beat their evaluations, despite the fact that they were altered each month to throw him off. The proof he'd betrayed the Network, Kirsten knew, was on the microdisks Angelo had given Shannon back at the house. "As soon as the Network's back to full power, I want you taking Jameson's place," Shannon said quietly to Angelo.

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Angelo didn't seem surprised by the commendation, merely murmured, "That could take years, depending on how bad he's crippled us." Kirsten kept her elation at the prospect tamped. "So be it," Shannon said briskly. Kirsten forced herself to tame her curiosity. Angelo was one of the greatest enigmas in the Network. She'd wondered often how he'd been recruited, outside of the basic story that'd floated around the recruits, but she'd never heard anything this personal before. Nodding as she inhaled deeply, Shannon said, "Let's deal with the here and now then. Take me through the evidence and your plan."

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Chapter 1 "Any hot locations?" Kirsten looked away from the halovideo console, over her shoulder at Hunter, with a frustrated sigh. "Nothing. Even thermals are cold. I've been all over the damn globe, and he's not coming up anywhere." When Hunter Savage, Team Leader/Mission Coordinator, had taken temporary command of the Network sixteen hours ago in their hour of crisis, he'd done what he had to do to keep the lower level recruits from declaring mutiny. He'd told them that Giles Jameson had been kidnapped by an enemy. Only Level 3 and higher operatives, like Kirsten and Hunter, knew the truth—Jameson had defected. He'd also planted a virus in their mainframe to slow their ability to locate him. With communications jammed for the past sixteen hours, Hunter had sent out a small contingency of operatives to bring everyone in, and then he'd directed the containment of what could have been a permanently destructive situation. Kirsten had returned ahead of Angelo and McKee. Though she hadn't had sleep in more hours than she could remember, she'd gone straight to this very console to search, fruitlessly, for their rogue leader. "He's underground. His transponders have to have been damaged or removed," Hunter spoke grimly, working through what Kirsten had known for hours. Angelo's voice broke in over the intercom. "Savage. Report to the perch." Both Kirsten and Hunter looked up to see Angelo in the upper level of the compound, behind a wall of 30

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glass, in Operations' office, commonly called 'the perch'. Angelo had arrived with Shannon McKee and the girl just twenty minutes after Kirsten. Celine's team had been waiting to get Piper to Medical upon their appearance. Kirsten was certain those around her were frustrated by the lack of answers—one she couldn't give them. After getting a brief from Hunter on the status of the Network and telling him they'd call him when they were ready for him, Angelo and Shannon had gone to the perch. "Stay on it," Hunter muttered to her, and she saw his look—it clearly said 'About damn time', before he strode away, and she was forced to go back to her fruitless search. Her eyes burned with fatigue and dryness. As one of the top operatives, her impatience was long gone, replaced by dogged determination. Jameson had gone rogue, crippling the Network and compromising security when he went. For her part, she was glad to see him gone, but not at the price they'd paid. It could lead to a domino effect around the world in terms of sprees of crimes and terror. Taking a deep breath, Kirsten closed her eyes for a second, wishing for a shower almost as much as she wished for answers. She speared her fingers into her short hair, glancing behind her at Comm Central, still abuzz with employees repairing the damage the virus had caused. All their channels had been corrupted, they'd had a system-wide failure, and the virus had eaten through countless databases before they were able to contain it. Hours had passed before they'd been able to fully destroy it. Only by borrowing bandwidth from the NSA had they been able to get back to 31

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half their operational power. It would take weeks to get back up to full power and to recover their data. The virus, not Jameson's prolonged absence, had been their tip-off that he'd defected. The Network system was impenetrable. The best computer enthusiasts and criminals in the world had tried to breach their system for years, and the task had proved impossible. The only way for a virus to get in was for it to be planted from within. At the time, two operatives had been dark—Angelo and Jameson. Angelo's loyalty was without question. That left Jameson, and, truthfully, none of them had been too surprised about it. Though he led Network operation within an exceptionally high rate of success, no one was foolish enough to trust him. Jameson was both ruthless and driven, a law unto himself. Not even Angelo trusted him. Justine Fielding, their communications and systems analyst, had been called up to the perch forty-five minutes before, and Ash Barnett was directing the repair team in Comm. When Kirsten's gaze met Ash's, she looked away instinctively, punching in new coordinates on the halovideo. She knew the precise moment of Ash's approach. She felt it like a missile locked on to her, and she barely had time to pull herself together before he was there, leaning next to her onto the console with both arms, just as Hunter had moments before. Ash had been one of the last operatives to come in today. Since he wasn't scheduled for a mission until late this night, he'd had no reason to suspect anything was happening, but then he'd always been a master of operating on instinct. All 32

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missions had been canceled because of the breach, and all operatives were on closed quarters until further notice. He's had a shower recently. She smelled soap and sandalwood and ... Ash, as he looked at the halovideo. He didn't face her when he asked, "Find anything?" "No." He glanced toward Operation's office, the glass now dark. "You know what's going on?" Kirsten sighed, murmuring vaguely, "I can't say." Angelo had instructed her not to reveal she'd been involved in Shannon's rescue, which was why he'd sent her on ahead of them to the compound. Ash grimaced with his own frustration at not being privy to what was happening, and his long blond hair shifted over his shoulder. He'd had a haircut recently, she acknowledged, remembering how long it'd been over his eyes during the tactical brief yesterday morning. She'd lost track of time since Angelo had called her into the covert mission of rescuing #1. "How long have you been sitting here?" he murmured. Coolly, she replied, "Four hours, more or less." When Ash looked at her, his chin resting on his arm leaning on the console, his blue eyes held more intensity than she could handle at the moment. Yet he said just as coldly as she had an instant ago, "The situation is basically contained in Comm. Why don't you let me take over here?" As usual, his attempt at compassion made no sense. Why should he care that she'd lost feeling in her lower extremities hours ago, that her back felt like someone had beat her with a steel rod, and that she'd go crazy if she had to look at the 33

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fluorescent lines on the vid screen for another second? His tone told her he didn't give a damn, but his eyes nevertheless urged her to take his offer instead of refusing out of pure pride. She hated that he knew she wanted to refuse because she didn't want to admit a weakness, however justified. The intercom came on before she could say a word, and Kirsten looked anxiously toward the perch. Instead of Angelo's, Dr. Celine Savage's voice came through. "Kirsten Ulrich and Ash Barnett, report to Medical immediately." Kirsten's mitigation at being relieved of her useless task and not having to give Ash the satisfaction of either giving up or insisting she could handle it herself was balanced with another level of annoyance. What's going on? Why are we being called to Medical? When she tried to stand, her legs were weak, and she felt Ash's hand on her forearm, gentle, his fingertips just slightly rough, but warm. It required all of her control not to pull away from him, simply to mutter, "Thanks. I guess I've been sitting here longer than I thought." She forced herself to get moving, and before long Ash was beside her, his hand at the small of her back this time. "I'm all right," she insisted. "You're exhausted," he corrected softly, but he didn't look at her when she turned to him. He removed his supportive hand, and she almost wished she'd kept her mouth shut. She was too damn tired to care about her reckless thought: I miss being touched. By him. But she tried to shake it off. Something was happening now. While she'd expected to be included on a tactical 34

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briefing, not some jaunt off to Medical, something was finally happening. Together, they skirted around Comm Central, past Weapons, where Vlad watched them curiously. The only sound, when they moved out of the main corridor, was the sound of their rhythmic footsteps on the cement floor. Kirsten couldn't dismiss the feeling of dread in the pit of her empty stomach. The organization had been compromised, Jameson was rogue—in hiding, Shannon McKee was here, and she and Ash had been called together to the hospital wing. While Kirsten had been privy to Angelo's preliminary plans, they'd been too vague for her to know what her role might be in them. As the Alpha Team leader, she'd fully expected to be going up to the perch with Hunter. Against her will, Kirsten glanced at Ash again as they neared Medical, and she could see the same questions and concerns she was facing were going around in his head, too. His large, strong hand again went to the small of her back—a gesture that could have been pure gentleman courtesy as they entered the hospital, but the deep caress he gave her had nothing to do with politeness and everything to do with reassurance. Tears stung her eyes, and her anger rose at her own ridiculous response to him. She was a Level 3 operative. She could handle anything they threw at her just as well as Ash could. She didn't need to be coddled by him or anyone else. Dangerous times aside, she had a job to do, and she didn't need any help dealing with it. 35

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"What's going on?" she demanded when Dr. Savage and another member of her team approached. "Ash, you'll be with Pierce. Kirsten, come with me," Celine said without preface. Kirsten didn't allow herself to look at Ash, but immediately fell in step behind a woman almost as tall as herself, at nearly six feet, with blond hair halfway down her back. She saw the girl Angelo had brought in earlier in one of the beds and asked Celine how she was. "She'll live. With that kind of tenacity, she'll definitely live." The doctor confirmed Kirsten's own assessment of the spirited wildcat. In a small room surrounded by large glass windows, Celine turned to her. "I'm sorry I don't have time to explain, Kirsten. Please undress. You'll be prepped for surgery, and as soon as I give the okay that you're stable enough to leave Medical, you'll go to Tactical Briefing." Kirsten obeyed, shedding her uniform without question. The lump in her throat would go away, she assured herself. And the sooner she left Medical, the sooner she'd know what the hell was going on. "Then let's get this over with," she said roughly.

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Chapter 2 The itching was enough to drive him crazy, but Ash refrained from scratching as he headed toward Tactical. His modifications had been annoying, but not painful, so he'd refused pain medication. He couldn't help but wonder what Kirsten might have gone through. She wasn't at the long, semi-circle briefing table. Justine Fielding, communications supervisor, was there with the Weapons Master and Cara Ross from Tech Division. Ash was acutely aware of his informal clothing. Though other operatives came to Tactical right from the street, he always changed into a uniform before he came to a briefing. As usual, Cara's teasing made him feel more uncomfortable. She wolf-whistled through her teeth as he approached. "You were due for a haircut," she said as he sat beside her. "Color change ... hmm." He glanced at her scoldingly, but it did nothing to stop her. She ran her hand through his now extremely short, jet black hair—it had made him do a double-take when Pierce had handed him a mirror. That, combined with the black eye color, dyed-black, thin brows—which were the source of his itching; and the lightening of his skin tone had rendered him all but unrecognizable to himself. Their medical makeover department was second to none. "I don't know, Barnett," Cara said in her smoker-for-life rasp. "It all seems to suit you somehow, even these sophisticated-casual snob duds. Maybe you should keep this GQ look after the op is over." 37

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Rockwell 'Vlad' Vlademar shook his head. "Man doesn't need to be any better looking than he is. He's already a problem around here with the female ops. 'Specially the recruits." Ash glanced at Justine, expecting to share a these-twoare-incorrigible look but surprised instead to see her blushing, turning away quickly. Then her gaze widened with shock, and Ash followed it. Coming down the hall were—fully identifiable—Dr. Celine Savage and a gorgeous woman he didn't recognize in the least, yet he knew instinctively. The woman was as tall and leggy as Kirsten, but she had nearly waist-length, sexy as hell, blondish red hair. And she wore make-up. Those were the least of the changes. Under a black turtleneck sweater similar to the one he wore, her breasts were larger, much larger, and loose beneath the thin cable knit. From his angle at the end of the table facing the direction of Medical, Ash had a perfect view of her profile from front and back. Her breasts were balanced by a rear-end that was more curvaceous yet no less sleek than her former self. The jeans she wore were loose, yet followed her shape almost as accurately as the sweater. Feeling the blood in his body course lower and hotter, Ash swore under his breath, almost wishing he could look away, knowing she was uncomfortable with everyone's stares. He couldn't. He couldn't pull himself together even when Angelo, Shannon McKee and Hunter Savage appeared, and Kirsten and Celine reached the table. Celine placed an inflatable donut on the chair next to Justine's and, no surprise, Kirsten 38

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bristled when the doctor helped her to sit on it. Her face shape was Kirsten's, yet the face was different. The blue eyes, so completely different from the jade that had haunted him for far too long, were now tilted slightly up at the corners, the brows more arched, even the cheekbones seemed more pronounced. Her lips were fuller, almost too full. She wasn't smiling when Vlad, who flirted with anything with a modicum of breast, said gutturally, "Ah, sweetness, put me out of my misery now." The soft femininity of this woman was at complete odds with the tough one underneath the surface. Ash was reminded of his annoyance with her earlier. On one hand, her constant switch between moderate vulnerability and militant machine was intriguing, understandable in a place like this, and even necessary. On the other ... Damnation, to make her soften the way she had during her early years of training, he wanted to shake her, shatter her ... kiss her again. Kiss her until she moaned his name the way she had during the Vegas op, long enough ago now that he should have forgotten it. Clearly against her will but unable to stifle her curiosity, Kirsten glanced at him, and her initially narrowed eyes became wide. She actually ran her gaze around the table as though wondering if she'd been mistaken—he wasn't who she thought he was. Then she looked back at him, accepting that he was the same Ashton Barnett who'd entered Medical with her three hours ago. She hadn't gotten a few minor modifications, the way he had, he realized when she shifted and pain crossed her face 39

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for only an instant. She'd had some more intrusive surgery to alter her appearance this radically. Ash found himself angry they'd put her through this instead of him, but he understood why. Whatever was happening, they had to act quickly. The nature of a flash mission was a lack of time and the utilization of any option available to them. The Network had the resources to change Kirsten's appearance radically with minor surgery that would make her uncomfortable for a few days but wouldn't slow her down or cause any noticeable wounds and pain that couldn't be explained away easily. In order to alter him significantly, they needed much more time. Therefore it made more sense to put Kirsten through minor surgery and alter his appearance through chemicals, waxing and contact lenses. Ash grimaced. Kirsten wouldn't give herself an inch if she did feel pain. She wouldn't accept him doing her job either. "How is she?" Angelo asked Dr. Savage, and Ash realized that Angelo and Shannon McKee had been staring at the two of them, accessing the changes. "She's going to be sore for awhile, especially the rest of today, but as long as nothing happens, she'll be back up to par in less than forty-eight hours." "I'm fine," Kirsten muttered. "Nothing that the ibuprofen I've had won't cure." Ash could see Angelo didn't buy it any more than he did, but he nodded instead of acknowledging her bravado, dismissing Celine with a nod. The group listened intently as Angelo moved on. 40

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"I wish there was more time for your recovery, but we don't have that option, unfortunately. This briefing will be short, and the two of you will review the parameters of the mission en route. Transport 3 is waiting to take you to a warehouse, where you'll make the final transition into your undercover identities." It came as no surprise to Ash, nor did he have time to consider the ramifications of the fact that he and Kirsten were being put into another deep cover operation together. "We have a situation that's jeopardized the integrity of the Network," Angelo continued. "Jameson has defected, and our Alpha Mission is to contain him, regardless of the outcome. A little over nineteen hours ago, Giles Jameson compromised our security by planting a virus that activated when Shannon McKee at Oversight attempted to contact him for routine briefing. The virus disabled our mainframe and all communications. This was done to cover up his true intention. Jameson attempted to assassinate Shannon." Ash glanced at Shannon McKee. Hell, Jameson would have to be out of his mind to go gunning for McKee. That, or the never-ending talk around the compound that their 2nd in Command was corrupt wasn't just a rumor. Only total corruption would make Jameson conclude he had absolutely nothing to lose by attempting to terminate McKee. Ash couldn't help wondering how Angelo had known what Jameson was up to—because he knew Angelo and the girl who'd been with them when they arrived had been there when the assassination attempt went down. But he knew that 41

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right now the 'how and why' of it weren't important. The rippling consequences to Jameson's attempt were all that mattered. Angelo inserted a disk into the briefing table console, typed a command, and an audio recording started. "It's me," came the unmistakable voice of Giles Jameson. "You're on an unsecured channel. What the hell are you doing?" a second voice, slightly panicked, growled. "There isn't time to worry about that now. The window is only open for a fraction of time. Kyle Vincent has surfaced. He's here. He's tunneled into the Network's mainframe and extracted the kid's file. I'm sending his coordinates now. Follow him. He'll lead you right to Elizabeth Sheppard. Kill them both. Do it cleanly and leave the scene immediately." Ash could feel his skin crawling. This conversation was obviously taking place while Jameson was still ostensibly #2— 2nd in Command, Liaison between Oversight and the Network. The man at the head of the Level 1 Operatives. The panicky voice spoke again, "What about Network interference?" Jameson sighed. "Pluzetti will be there. Count on it. We can't afford any mistakes with him watching us. I'll sew up the situation with Harris and Porter as soon as you eliminate the rogue op and the kid. Once these situations are contained, we can bring this house of cards down for good. Stay in touch." "Understood." The connection was broken. 42

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Kyle Vincent had been MIA from the Network for the past fifteen years, after disappearing, quite literally, with a subject—a kid who'd posed a potential breach in Network security. As a Level 3 operative, Ash was well-versed in MIA operatives—simply because they were so rare. Kyle Vincent was the only operative who'd ever escaped the Network. There had never been any confirmation that Kyle took tenyear-old Elizabeth Sheppard into the night and disappeared with her, but it was the logical conclusion. Considering the fifteen years he'd eluded them, the Network had trained him well. Ash was fairly certain Kyle had had help from the inside. Angelo must have gotten that elusive confirmation that Kyle had taken Elizabeth. Wordlessly, Angelo inserted a second disk into the table console, saying, "Voice print analysis confirmed the identities of both speakers. Jameson and Michael Terranzo." Terranzo led a large organized crime ring headquartered, but not fully contained, in Chicago. Both local and federal law enforcement had been unable to take them out—in part, Ash now suspected, because Jameson was exploiting his 'diplomatic immunity' position within the Network and giving Terranzo special favors keeping his crime ring out of the hands of law enforcement officials. "Terranzo and Jameson have been working together, but their contact has been untraceable," Angelo said. Until Jameson's unsecured call from within the compound, telling Terranzo to take out Kyle Vincent, Ash realized. Jameson must have been desperate to do that, too. While Kyle Vincent had been on the defect list for years, and getting 43

Until Death Do Us Part [Incognito Series Book 2] by Karen Wiesner

him and the kid back had been a high priority within the Network for a long time, Angelo had convinced Oversight the pair were no direct threat to the security of the Network. Presumably, Kyle had taken Elizabeth, not to expose the Network, but to save her personally. Fifteen years of silence from them proved that. Nevertheless, Jameson had never agreed with the two of them. Fortunately he'd been unable to do anything about it once the Oversight Committee took finding Kyle and Elizabeth off the alpha priority list. "Why did Vincent surface now?" Kirsten asked. "Elizabeth is twenty-five years old," Angelo said simply. "Her memory never returned. She wanted to know where she'd come from." Ash frowned. "He could have made up a plausible scenario to placate her curiosity." "He wanted to know himself," Angelo said. "As far as he was concerned, I'd betrayed the Network." Ash understood what Angelo didn't say. Kyle Vincent had been recruited young, voluntarily, and his attachment to Angelo had surely been the driving factor in his loyalty to the Network, just as with most all of the recruits who were brought into the organization for various reasons. Kyle had only been sixteen when he took Elizabeth. Believing Angelo had turned had to have eaten Kyle up inside all those years, but his main priority had been to keep Elizabeth safe. "Where are they?" Kirsten asked. In a clipped tone, Angelo said, "Dead." Ash wasn't sure he quite believed him. Angelo served the Network with the utmost loyalty, but it was well known to 44

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most operatives that he'd strayed in the past, allowing himself to think with his heart instead of his head. His sister had been Elizabeth Sheppard's mother. The father was another Level 3 Network operative. Rosalia Clark and Andy Sheppard had done the unthinkable, the forbidden, by not only becoming romantically involved, but then secretly marrying and having a child. Without Angelo's direct intervention, it would have been impossible for the attempt at a traditional relationship to succeed. "Rosie and Andy found evidence of Jameson's corruption and his association with Terranzo. He made Shannon McKee's father believe Terranzo had targeted them because of their involvement in Terranzo's arrest sixteen years ago," Angelo told them. According the reports Ash had read, that was how Jameson had explained away the violent deaths of two of the best operatives in the history of the Network. Angelo had admitted his part in covering up Rosalia and Andy's relationship and the child that had come from it only then, and they'd made the decision to wipe Elizabeth Sheppard's memory before dropping her into an orphanage. As Head of Oversight, Ash understood that Shannon McKee didn't have the luxury of feeling pity or remorse for the decisions made to seal the fissure Angelo had helped create. Kyle had changed everything when he'd disappeared with the girl. Though there'd been no proof, rumor was that Angelo may have deactivated Kyle's transponders. Finding them would have been easy otherwise. Angelo's explanation was that they'd become damaged 'somehow' by Kyle himself. 45

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Short of having someone operate on him and remove them from the back of his rib cage, self-inflicted damage would have been unlikely. "The rogue operative situation has been resolved and Terranzo's part in it proved," Angelo confirmed before opening another audio file on the disk. After a few minutes of letting it play, Angelo pushed a button on the remote control he held, and the halovideo popped up in the center of the briefing table. A gorgeous redheaded woman and a long-haired guy posed in what was clearly a celebrity advertising poster. The two looked vaguely familiar to Ash. "This is a Chicago radio program, called 'Straight Up!' that was on the air about six years ago. It was controversial in its day, popular with the government conspiracy radicals. Did exposés on political figures around Chicago. It had a huge following, but most civilians believed it was all paranoid hype. The two hosts, Reb Porter and Raven Harris, both had investigative journalism backgrounds. Reb Porter saw his father, a senator, murdered when he was just a kid. He caught a glimpse of his father's killer and dedicated his life to finding out who he was. Raven Harris joined him on his quest years later." Tightly, Kirsten guessed, "Jameson killed the senator?" Angelo nodded. "But there's no proof of that, outside of the fact that Reb and Raven spent most of their careers investigating Jameson. Somehow they found out about the Network. This recording of their last program refers to a 'secret organization sanctioned by the American government, 46

Until Death Do Us Part [Incognito Series Book 2] by Karen Wiesner

headed by a man who works with criminals. A man who's blackmailed and killed politicians who threaten to expose him and the organization.'" Listening to the program again, Ash's alarm rose. No names were mentioned, but that didn't seal the breach. Jameson had compromised their security. Six years had gone by, and in that time he'd managed to jeopardize the very existence of the Network by allowing it to be exposed with his 'extracurricular activities'. Ash had no doubt at all about why Jameson had done it either. As a young child, Giles had been brought into the organization out of necessity. He'd seen too much to allow him to remain a civilian. Oh, he'd been given a choice about whether or not he wanted to join. His choice had been join or die. Giles had joined ... and advanced quickly. Ron McKee's distrust of the quick-witted recruit was legendary. Now it seemed clear that Jameson had made it his life's ambition to scale the ranks of the Network until he was at the top. And once there he would 'fell the house of cards' for good. "Shortly after this program ran, Raven Harris' nine-yearold son was killed in a hit-and-run right outside her home. Reb Porter's wife was killed in a car accident not long afterward." Ash didn't need to be told that both had been dubbed accidents without suspicion of foul play. Jameson would have made sure of that. What he couldn't understand was why Jameson hadn't let the Network handle it. Or was Jameson already in danger of being exposed to the Oversight Committee for his association with Terranzo? 47

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"I believe Jameson realized how close he was to being caught in the act, which is why he silenced Raven and Reb but didn't deal directly with them," Angelo said. "A connection would have been made between the topic of their last program and their deaths if he'd taken both of them out in response. His gamble worked—Harris and Porter quit their jobs immediately after these incidents, though I doubt either of them realize the accidents were intended to silence them." "Jameson is going after two reporters who tried to expose his corruption," Angelo told them. "Your infiltration is our main priority. All other assignments have been diverted to other branches." He cleared the holographic image. "We believe that Raven and Reb may have hard-copy evidence on the Network and Jameson. All of Jameson's resources will go into retrieving and destroying that evidence. Though we've got a perimeter team watching Raven Harris, she's right out in the open. Ash and Kirsten, you'll be planted next door to them, posing as a married couple. Worm your way into their lives in order to set up surveillance. Your task is to protect them without making them suspicious, and to retrieve any evidence Harris might have about the Network and Jameson. Your cover roles and mission parameters have been uploaded to your panels, along with all the intel we have on the situation. Retrieve your PDAs from Tech, then standard issue firearms from Weapons before you proceed to Transport 3 directly after this briefing. Review as much of it as you can en route. You have very little time." "What about Reb Porter?" Ash asked. 48

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When Angelo glanced at Hunter, Ash understood why Savage hadn't been the one chosen to go undercover with Kirsten. He'd been assigned to locate Porter. "Intel we've received at this point is soft. We're sending out more nets, but we believe he's alive. We haven't been able to locate him. Operatives are standing by to be put into play as soon as a location is secured." "We don't know how desperate Jameson is," Angelo said. "But we know he has Terranzo's organization behind him. "This may be incidental, but one of our dogs is missing. We believe Jameson took it when he left the compound, and if he has he'll train it to kill a specific target with little more than a trigger word or scent. "You're cleared for extreme force in bringing Jameson down. We want him dead or alive. Standard Brief & Assessment check-ins every two hours from the two of you on the secure channel opened for this purpose until he's taken out." Shannon McKee spoke from behind Angelo in a quiet but solemn tone. "Do this quickly, quietly and without mistakes. What happens in the next few weeks will decide the fate of the Network and our role in upholding justice for all. This is Alpha Mission until it's over, one way or another. Dismissed." Ash watched Angelo, McKee and Savage leave Tactical, then stood up. He and Kirsten were going undercover as a married couple, the Harris' new neighbors. When her gaze met his across the table, he knew she understood the parameters of that as well. 49

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Pain filled her eyes as she forced herself to her feet. She'd clearly been working for almost twenty-four hours without sleep, food or a break. Yet he knew she wouldn't slow her pace, wouldn't let any of them down. Like it or not, he couldn't quash his own need to protect her along with the Harris', even if she didn't want or need his protection.

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Chapter 3 The Network was in jeopardy, and there was nothing Kirsten wouldn't do to prevent the ultimate disaster from happening. She'd lived on the outside for the first twenty-two years of her life. Angelo had come to her when she'd been at the end of her rope, struggling to find some meaning, some justice, in a world that seemed to favor the cruel, the criminal, the selfish. The weak were trodden on out there. The weak had no choices except bad choices. Inside the Network, she'd found both meaning and justice. More importantly, she'd found control and a home. Once, only once, had the Network let her down. All of Kirsten's attention went into reading her panel as she walked beside Ash through the compound, toward Transport 3. She ignored the chafing pain her shoulder holster caused her, and the weight of her handgun—something she'd always found comforting before. Now it was uncomfortable beside her larger breasts. She didn't look up until she heard her name, and then saw her trainee Natalie Francis. "Not now, Nat. We're en route." "I know." The young woman smiled slightly, but it was obvious she was trying to contain more excitement. "I'm on stand-by." Tired as she was, Kirsten mind was still functioning as usual. She understood exactly what Natalie was telling her. "They put you on Reb Porter?" she asked in surprised. "Yeah, but that's all I know." 51

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Kirsten's disbelief made her stop moving. New recruits went through two full years of academic and physical training, four a.m. until midnight each day, depending on the amount of book homework they were given at any time. Upon graduation, they were given Level 7 status and had a one year probationary period that didn't include field missions any higher or harder than Class D. Kirsten had become Natalie's permanent mentor less than a year and a half before, when Natalie made Level 6. Infiltration to get to Reb Porter would require a Level 3 operative—as Kirsten and Ash were—or higher. Natalie's many flaws and weaknesses came to Kirsten's mind first. Natalie spent too much time on details instead of the big picture. Her sympathy extended to everyone, regardless of their crimes or sins. She became emotionally involved far too easily. No, Natalie wasn't anywhere near ready for a Class B mission like this. Kirsten wondered why she hadn't been consulted before Angelo assigned the girl. But the answer to that came easily. Time. They didn't have time in this case. They were doing whatever they had to do to contain a breach that could destroy the Network from the inside out. If they planned to put Natalie in the field, they had a good reason. While Reb was being located, Natalie would be put under the toughest training of her life to prepare her for the mission. Kirsten wasn't entirely sure it would be enough, but at the moment it wasn't her problem. "Did they put Dez on the perimeter team with you?" Ash asked, beside her, and Natalie nodded. Ash was Dez Luttino's 52

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permanent mentor. Since he'd been in the field for three years, Level 5, he'd provide good back-up for her. Kirsten and Ash continued toward the airlock and out to the van. Never before had she been wary about entering it and getting underway. Now she saw a challenge merely getting inside the van because, dammit, she was in pain and her body felt stiff. She didn't think she could even handle a few steps up inside. She also realized that she'd forgotten the inflatable donut Celine had given her. The seats in the van were nothing more than hard plastic. She swallowed when she felt Ash's arm against her back at the entrance of the van. She kept her gaze straight ahead. "Lean against me," he said without a trace of emotion in his voice. Until she was back to full capacity, she'd have to accept his help. She didn't have to like it, but at the very least she could be gracious about it. She leaned back against him, and he lifted her so she could bypass the steps. When he knew she was solid on her feet, he let her go slowly. Kirsten moved into the interior of the van, around the center console holding the mobile transport computer, to the seats on each side. Before she could sit down, Ash slipped the donut that must have been in his bag on her seat. Kirsten felt strangely touched that he'd remembered it, and when she looked at him, she forced herself to smile slightly. "Too many things going on. I forgot about this. Thanks for grabbing it ... and helping me in." He didn't look at her as he helped her ease down onto the cushion. Kneeling before her, he put the seatbelt around her. 53

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"I need you functioning at full physical capacity, Ulrick. We need to take care of you until your body is as sharp as that mind of yours always is." Swallowing, she wanted more than anything to look away from him. He was too close, and the feel of his fingers sliding beneath the belt, against her abdomen to make sure it wasn't too tight, was far too intimate ... and not intimate enough. Even knowing the answer, she asked herself why they had to choose Ash for this mission. The two of them had gone out on deep cover ops together in the past six years since the Vegas mission, but never as lovers again. True, the Network could be testing her, but she believed they were too desperate and focused on getting Jameson to go about business as usual. She and Ash were both too professional to do anything to jeopardize their mission again, and that meant acting like a married couple. Touching again. Kissing. Kirsten swallowed once more, and Ash looked up at her, his black eyes unfamiliar and yet she knew them. He brushed the long, silken bangs from her forehead in a tender gesture disputing the easy tone of his voice when he asked, "You itch as much as I do?" Laughing softly, she said, "My eyebrows." Ash had been a man like no other before his modification. His roguish good looks had always been appealing to just about everyone—young or old, male or female. Somehow this sophisticated yet casual look suited him almost as much as his previous appearance. He fit into this role just as hand-inglove. She didn't feel her cover fit her at all, but no one would be able to tell her look wasn't genuine. 54

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"All ready back there?" came the call from the driver's seat. Kirsten's fingers clenched into a fist when she realized she'd just been about to run her fingers through Ash's new, short, spiky hair. He nodded, moving over to the other side of the van. Why did it have to be Ash? Why not Hunter or Noah or any of the other male operatives? The commendation—level status, pay and freedom increase—they'd been given after the success of the Vegas mission had to be a big part of why she and Ash had been paired again as lovers. They had a natural chemistry that worked well with their own acting skills. Why does it have to be Ash? The question pushed into her mind again as she considered the superficial mission requirements, and she had no doubt he was thinking 'Why does it have to be her?' when he glanced up at her from his panel. She'd never dreaded an assignment the way she did this one. She'd never doubted her own abilities before. Angelo's answer to every single situation she faced came to her now, when she most needed it: Focus on the mission. Nothing else matters. The Network needed her. They needed her to perform twice as well as she ever had. Ash was her partner. In order to do her job, she had to put aside everything except her strengths. She'd never failed since she'd been recruited. She wouldn't fail now. 55

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Chapter 4 The ibuprofen, along with her logistic approach to every assignment, had kicked in by the time they reached the warehouse. They were each given a vehicle for their roles. Kirsten partially deflated the donut, then put it on the driver's seat of the silver sports car. She turned back to glance at Ash, smiling slightly because she'd been given the cooler car. His was a sedate Buick. He raised an eyebrow as she started her car and put the top down, then pulled up alongside her. "Meet you in Downers Grove," he said, and she nodded, slipping into sunglasses. The thirty-five minute drive out of the heart of Chicago gave her plenty of time to mentally prepare for her role. She found herself excited, the way she usually was on a long-term mission. Lately, it'd all been recon, surveillance and in-andout grabs. While each of those weren't without adrenaline rushes, she knew she'd been designed for deep cover ops. She knew Ash was the same way, and she knew that was why they'd been teamed up once more. She and Ash were two of the prime deep-cover operatives the Network had. They did their best work in those situations. Their best together, as well. His loyalty to the Network was without question—she knew without specifics that he owed his life to them, just as she did. Together, they would do everything within their power to keep the organization intact.

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Kirsten's jaw clenched on the gut-thought, And I'll do anything in my power to bring down Giles Jameson. What I wouldn't give to be the one to take him out personally. Swallowing her hate, she glanced into her rearview mirror and saw Ash's vehicle behind her. Though he'd left first, she'd passed him when they got on the freeway. She was eager to get in position, to check current security and plan the initial meet with the Harris pair. Before she glanced back at the road, she caught another glimpse of herself and instinctively doubled back to look again. God! I don't look at all like me! Getting used to her new ultra-feminine appearance would be the hardest part of this mission. The suburb the Harris' lived in was fairly quiet, well-to-do, and her gaze took in every danger zone as she neared the house next to Raven and Casey Harris. The neighboring house, her and Ash's headquarters for the duration of the mission, was a huge, gorgeous English-style fortress. The only weakness from the front was a large bay window, but they could secure it easily. The Harris' house was just the opposite. They might as well have put up a sign, inviting attack. There were three oversized, cathedral windows at the front the house alone. The grounds surrounding the house were lushly landscaped— providing generous cover for prowlers on all the sides Kirsten could see. She shook her head disapprovingly. Civilians have no idea how vulnerable they are. As Kirsten parked beside the large moving van on the three-car-garage approach of the house she'd be sharing with 57

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Ash, her discouragement with the Harris place deepened. She paused with her hands on the wheel of the car, taking in the situation. Windows. Huge ones, upstairs, downstairs. Ones that would provide few places to hide if someone shot and shattered the glass. And doors. Patio doors, French glass doors, regular doors. Even the upstairs bedrooms had balconies that could be entered with little more than a flick of the wrist. She saw that there was a security system in place, but Giles Jameson could circumvent or disable it in seconds. Kirsten walked into the place. Network employees, dressed as movers, were prepping the house with all the equipment needed for the mission. They'd seal off the second floor and most of the downstairs, making it impenetrable to intruders. Kirsten walked by the curtainless windows, looking out at the Harris house as she went. We have to get in there tonight. There's no choice about that. They're about as secure as bovine in a meat plant right now. Stepping out onto the large cedar deck at the back, Kirsten found a barbecue pit, wet bar, wicker patio table and chairs, and the pool, not yet prepared for the summer. The Griepentrog family—long-time friends and neighbors of Raven Harris and her husband Casey—had left in a hurry, due to the scenario the Network had created to get them out of the house ASAP. Elliot Griepentrog had been Casey Harris' partner at one of the largest advertising firms in Chicago. He'd left his house and his job ... and a lot of his personal 58

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belongings, Kirsten noted, the seed of an idea germinating in the back of her mind. Feigning contented curiosity, Kirsten moved up to the deck railing and surreptitiously surveyed the back of the Harris home. More landscaping, more cover. The covered pool had clearly not been used for some time. Two sets of patio doors leading out to the deck were another weak area in their defense. The sunroom, cropping out from the rest of the house to give it a T-shape, had another oversized cathedral window facing the backyard. The only thing in their favor, Kirsten saw, was the sevenfoot wood fence separating their house from their neighbors' on the left. Securing it so no one could come over the fence without triggering an alarm would be easy. Securing the rest of the house would take time and stealth, as they didn't want Raven and Casey to be suspicious. Kirsten turned when the patio door leading out to the deck hissed open again, and Ash emerged. Anticipating his moves, she was fully prepared when he came up in back of her and his arms slid around her waist. She eased against him naturally, smiling contently. His chin touched her shoulder, and then he turned his mouth toward her ear. "We need to get security equipment around that house without delay." "I know. As soon as it gets dark. I'll work the perimeter, you penetrate and engage the alarms." Ash's specialty was electronics, in addition to many other areas. She'd watch his back while he positioned them. He nodded, breathing deeply. Kirsten reached up and stroked his face, looking up and back at him with a loving 59

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smile. "No movement around here today, according to the surveillance team on the perimeter. The husband went to work this morning, as usual. She hasn't left the house even once." Ash brushed the line of her jaw, then tenderly touched her lips with the tip of his thumb. "How do you feel?" A genuine chuckle rose in her, and she told him, "My lips don't hurt. They just feel weird. Puffy." Cradling her face, he kissed her mouth, a mouth that had looked strangely like Julia Roberts' to Kirsten, and she realized her lips weren't as numb as they had been an hour ago. She still remembered the shape, texture and firmness of his lips, the taste of him, but it was different now with her bee-stung, swollen mouth against them. The sensation was more intense than ever. Kirsten drifted around to face him, and his arms pulled her back in to him instantly as he lifted her face, deepening the kiss. He was the first to pull away. She sensed his reluctance to do so, even as he rested his forehead against hers and played with the strands of hair that fell over her forehead into her eyes. "We have to get in," he said a little breathlessly. "Soon." "I doubt we'll have time to put micro cameras in tonight, unless the two of them go somewhere when he gets home from work, but we can't wait around for that. We can get the audio tags in. I've a plan." Ash eased away from her, his strange black eyes that matched his hair so perfectly widening slightly. "What do we need?" 60

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"A box. A head-off when the husband is close to home. And barbecue fixings." "The kitchen's well-stocked. I'll contact the perimeter team about the husband." Kirsten smiled. "I'll find a box. Shouldn't be too hard, considering we just moved in." Ash grinned, and then kissed her again. Laughing, she glided away to the patio door, sinuously playing the part of a woman planning to make her man wait for her until he was good and crazy. Ash called her attention back with a soft, "Hey." "Hmm?" "We have a new house to christen tonight, baby. It's bad luck not to make love the first night in a new house." Kirsten leaned on the open door, raising an eyebrow. "Did you just make that up?" "Hey, indisputable law of nature." "Well, who am I to defy nature?" His chuckle followed her as she entered the house, and Kirsten found herself shaking. Gasping for breath, she desperately chanted to herself, Focus on the mission.

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Chapter 5 Ash found himself still chuckling as he went into the kitchen and opened the freezer. It had been loaded to avoid them having to leave the mission house. He pulled out a large package of ribs, set it on the counter, then pulled out his satellite phone and dialed. "Noah," came the answer from the leader of the perimeter team. "We need a heads' up when the husband leaves work, then again about five minutes before he arrives here." "Understood." As Ash prepared a feast—cooking, yet another talent he'd picked up in The Shop—he wondered what Kirsten had in mind to get into the Harris' home. When it came to quick thinking, she had no peer. 'A box. A head-off when the husband is close to home. And barbecue fixings,' she'd said. Ash smiled again. One of the 'movers' looked up from the listening post site smack dab in the middle of the open concept kitchen/living room. "This is ready, Ash. All you need to do is get your surveillance equipment in next door." Wiping his hands on a towel, Ash moved from behind the counter toward the oversized roll top desk that would hide the audio and video monitors. He checked it himself, then nodded. "The rest of this place is locked down, leaving you a bathroom, bedroom and this living room/kitchen area to work." 62

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"Thanks." Ash heard the shower go on just as the moving van pulled out. As he walked through the house, double-checking the security measures, he found a box outside the bathroom in the hall. Bending slightly, he went through it. Books. Knickknacks, clothes, a lamp, some dishes. The Network movers had brought everything they'd need, really the bare necessities when it came to household items. They'd unpacked everything and put it in place, but the main portion of the house, the place a visitor would most likely be, was messy. Unpacked boxes, scattered furniture and exercise equipment gave the genuine sense of a couple who'd just moved in. This box was part of Kirsten's plan. Ash knew that much. He'd have to be ready to play whatever part she required of him. His phone buzzed, and he eased it off his belt. The bathroom door opened, and Kirsten stood with a steam background in a loosely cinched robe, rubbing her long hair with a towel. Her skin was still moist from her shower. Ash turned his entire body away as he said more roughly than he intended to into the phone, "Ash." "Harris just left the agency. He's on this way. We'll be tracking him, and I'll check in again five minutes prior to his arrival," Noah told him. "On his way?" Kirsten guessed as Ash closed up his phone and forced himself to face her again. He nodded. When she stopped rubbing her hair, asking "Any activity," he couldn't help staring at the lure of her open 63

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robe, showing more cleavage than she'd ever had. In the Network, there were no female or male locker rooms. There were low-level and high-level operative locker rooms. A sensitivity to one's own body was lost early in recruit school. Kirsten didn't expect him to be affected by her nudity. If she'd been any other operative, he wouldn't have been, either. His jaw clenched as he refused to heed the insistence of the memory that wanted to steal back into the forefront of his mind. "No activity," he muttered. "Wife is still in the house." Kirsten frowned, leaning against the doorframe. "Her profile said she's been all but a recluse since she quit her job six years ago. She rarely leaves the house." Ash nodded. The profile had been committed to his memory as he'd read it, just as he knew it'd been to Kirsten's. When she shifted again and her robe slipped open a little more, Ash saw the angry red wound of her surgery under one full breast. Just once. Get her out of my system for good. Just once. But, even as he'd thought it, committed to his course, he'd realized what 'just once' meant. He couldn't touch her the way he'd wanted to since that first time on the Vegas mission. He couldn't explore her body from head to toe, couldn't know it like he knew his own. He couldn't put his mouth on her small, ultra-sensitive breasts. He couldn't taste her essence, couldn't bring her to fulfillment that intimate way he'd craved, instead performing only what the mission parameters specified. Simulation. Hell, just simulated movements ... and he'd lost his mind every time, yet knowing he could bring her 64

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to the pinnacle with only that sweet, dirty rocking motion had satisfied a part of him he'd forgotten existed. Just once, and he'd be haunted for the rest of his life by what he couldn't have. But he'd known then that he'd take the little he could get or die a slow, painful death without. He'd choose a small part of heaven in a choice between that or nothing.... "...she does all day?" Kirsten was saying, and Ash realized he felt flushed and angry. With himself. He couldn't go there. Even the memory had been banished from his conscious mind. So what if he slept and it was there almost every time? He could live with that. He couldn't live with wanting Kirsten again, so damn bad he couldn't focus on his job. "She receives weekly mailings of books from Amazon.com," Ash murmured, his gaze helplessly drawn downward once more when her nipple peeked out of the robe. The way she'd gasped in his hands, bleeding moans, came back to him, and he cut off the force of it ruthlessly with a sharp demand of: "What's the barbecue for?" For some reason, Kirsten didn't notice or deliberately ignored his harshness. "An offer they won't be able to refuse." "The box?" "Our ticket in. You need to be ready with as many paper ants as you can when the husband arrives. We'll be playing it by ear. I don't expect either of them to be friendly, even to over-friendly new neighbors. We'll go over just before he arrives." "Then I suggest you avail yourself of that ultra-feminine wardrobe Jocelyn filled your closet with immediately." 65

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She noticed the sharp edge in his tone this time and frowned slightly in confusion. He couldn't explain it to her either. He walked away instead. The Network was the last place on earth for emotional relationships. Even sexual ones were forbidden if they weren't sanctioned by a mission. The Network was everywhere. They heard all, saw all, sensed all. Strong emotions bred a lack of focus, a disloyalty to the organization they'd given their life to without hope of reprieve. Falling in love.... Ash had concluded more times than he could count that it made sense for love to be disavowed. If his thoughts were on another operative, his thoughts weren't on the mission. If he was worried about protecting her during a mission, his thoughts weren't on the primary target; or if it came down to a choice between performing the mission objective or letting her be captured or killed, he would have divided loyalties. That created weak links, breaches in security. An opportunity for something to slip past him unnoticed. If it came down to a choice between the mission or the woman he loved, the Network was right to take away the variable of love. The only way the organization survived was through concentrated focus on the job. Nothing else outside of that could matter. He owed his life to the Network. He'd already given his life to them. There was no room for any other commitments, even self-limited ones, at this critical time. His mind focused as he went outside and checked the perimeter, going over what he knew of the Harris pair. The husband, Casey, worked long hours at Bethany Design as a graphic artist, in one of the top teams at the full-service 66

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agency. Little was known about Raven's activities since she'd quit her job six years ago, but they knew her parents and older brother called or visited her on a daily or semi-daily basis. She never left the house, not even for groceries. Her family took care of that. The parents owned a posh restaurant in Central Chicago. The brother was something of a drifter, never married. Raven had had no contact with her partner, Reb Porter, as far as intel could reach, in the years since the accidents that had taken Raven's son and Reb's wife. The only friendships the Harris' had were with their previous neighbors, Elliot and Mya Griepentrog, who had two teenaged children. Mya had worked from the house as a reviewer for a major literary magazine. The lack of intel on the personalities of Casey and Raven would work against them, but Ash and Kirsten were skilled in penetrating defenses. Ash had no doubt whatsoever that Kirsten's plan, whatever it was, would work like a charm.

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Chapter 6 Ash had looked through the clothes that Jocelyn Dominica—Etiquette, Manners and Costumes Department head, as well as Network psychologist—had picked out for her. Kirsten couldn't say why it bothered her to know he'd looked, especially knowing the man never missed anything. Then she remembered the way he'd studied her fresh from the shower, the way his chemically-lightened skin had flushed, as his gaze had slid downward, into the gaps of the robe she wore. He'd noticed her enhanced figure, all right. As for his reaction.... Kirsten exhaled in frustration. He'd done his usual hit and run. One minute friendly, the next cold and abrupt, the way he'd treated her for the past six years. Since that damned Vegas mission. Kirsten yanked out an outfit, then shoved the robe off completely. Her sensually curvaceous body seemed like it belonged to a complete stranger. She recognized her hard, flat abdomen and long, slender legs, but everything else was not her. Swallowing at her own curiosity, she turned toward the three full-length mirrors on the closet doors. The Network had the advancement to perform the operations she'd undergone without requiring the recovery time the procedures would normally demand. Having practically nonexistent breasts all her life had been a practical blessing. She led an active life and large breasts would just get in the way. Yet she found herself fascinated by this new shape, punctuated by red welts on the undercurve. She'd never considered herself sexy 68

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before, and the rush of blood coursing through her was a little scary. What did Ash think? Was that flush he'd shown been ... well, about these? The rush became molten as she considered his reaction a few moments ago. Turning the two side mirrors inward, she looked at her surgically enhanced buttocks. How could a little fullness make such a visible difference in someone's appearance? Kirsten saw her reflection smiling in disbelief at the ... well, beautiful, sexy woman standing before her. God, I barely recognize myself, especially with all this hair hanging in my face. No way would Jameson recognize me. Not easily anyway. That thought was too quickly followed by another. She knew firsthand how insidious Jameson could be. He's been watching me. I knew he was watching me all this time, but I thought it was part of the evaluation of recruits and 7th Level operatives. Never mind that he never came down to watch anyone else. Her body had gone through every physical regime imaginable to make her a fighting machine. But he'd been stronger. She'd clawed him tooth and nail, and, just like when she was a sixteen year old girl on her first date, she'd lost. Once her legs and arms were secured in the steel manacles, spread wide—'You won't need them, I promise you'—she'd been as helpless as a captive animal. Her continuous screams in those endless hours had left her hoarse in the sound-proof room, but it'd been the only defense she'd had, until... Kirsten whirled away from the mirror and painful memories, thrusting her limbs into the jeans and top she'd 69

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picked out. Getting shoes on was a little trickier with her still sore backend. Her disciplined mind filled with mission parameters and profiles to keep her dark shadows at bay. Without looking at herself in the mirror again before she went out, she grabbed a comb from the dresser and eased it through the long strands as she walked toward the bathroom and the make-up she'd used only on undercover ops. With a skilled but mildly trembling hand, she applied it. Aches and exhaustion drained her as she worked steadily. She heard and felt Ash's approach fifteen minutes later. He leaned against the bathroom door frame, and his gaze flickered over her with the same reluctance that had been in his eyes before. "He stopped at the store. We have some time if you want to brief me on your plan." His tone was softer, and Kirsten nodded as she screwed the cap back on the mascara. Running both hands through her nearly dry hair, she followed him out to the living room, then to the kitchen counter. He pushed a few ibuprofen tablets toward her with a small bottle of orange juice. Kirsten tempered her annoyance as she looked up from the offerings. How the hell did he always seem to know what she was feeling? She didn't have the energy to mad at him for it at the moment. She said "Thanks" under her breath and swallowed the pills. Ash leaned toward her across the outcrop of kitchen counter. "Now, what's the plan?"

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Chapter 7 When Kirsten said "Let's go", Ash retrieved the box of things left by the Griepentrogs' from the hall and followed her out the front door, to the sidewalk, toward the Harris' house. Halfway there, she fell into step beside him, and he missed the view. She was wearing another pair of loose but damn sexy jeans showing her rounded bottom to perfection. The form-fitting sweater she wore had a triangle of material cut out just below the turtleneck, and the V of it dipped into her cleavage. The same triangle was cut out of the back of the shirt, only this one was nearly to the small of her smooth back. On anyone else, the shirt wouldn't have worked—even on the old Kirsten it wouldn't have looked right. But on this woman, it was both sophisticated and sexy. At the Harris' front door, Kirsten leaned in front of him and pushed the doorbell, then strung her hands through his arm casually to wait. And wait they did. After a full minute, no response had come, though Ash had seen the curtain in the room to the right of the front door pull back slightly. Kirsten glanced up at him; he gave a slight movement of his head toward that window, and she reached forward and pushed the doorbell again. This time the door opened, but barely a crack, and a pale, drawn face looked out. While Ash recognized her as the woman who'd been on the halovideo back in Tactical, she was a shadow of her former self. This woman was white and thin. She hadn't been outside in a long time. 71

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"I'm not interested," she murmured, closing the door again before either of them could utter a word. Solicitors had come to this woman's door before. Kirsten jabbed the doorbell again, and the door opened once more. The expression was hostile now. "I said—" "We're your new neighbors! I'm so sorry for butting in like this," Kirsten rushed to say, in a friendly, apologetic tone. Anger dissolved in the face that had all the marks of hidden beauty, with its oval shape, large, deep brown eyes flecked with gold, and a full, sweetly curved mouth almost without color. Raven Harris' discomfort was tangible. She moved her hands in a strange gesture of helplessness before crossing her arms protectively over her chest. "New ... new neighbors? You moved into the Griepentrogs' house? When...? They just moved out this morning. How could you..." Kirsten smiled, laughing in a carefree way that Ash knew wasn't natural for her, yet it sounded irresistible to his ears. "It's quite a story, but we only know part of why your neighbors moved so quickly." Raven's gaze skittered off of Kirsten to Ash, and then the box he held. Seeing it and most likely recognizing some of the items in it, she opened the door a little wider. "Those are..." "The Griepentrogs' things, we assumed," Ash finished. "Yeah, they must have been in quite a hurry. They left a lot of things behind. These are just what we found on our first pass." Eyes narrowed in suspicion, Raven said, "You brought them here. How did you know we were friends with them?" 72

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Right on time, Ash and Kirsten heard an automatic garage door opening, and Casey Harris pulled onto his driveway approach. Seemingly ignoring the open garage, he instead parked on the approach crookedly and was out of his car in seconds. Ash glanced at Raven surreptitiously and saw her go utterly rigid at the sight of her own husband. Why doesn't his presence relieve her, make her feel like she has an ally to stand with her against us strangers? Casey Harris was an immaculately dressed, trim man in an expensive suit with not a single blond hair out of place. But every line in his body, his very expression, was that of a man defending his family from an intruder as he charged toward them. His voice was tense as he asked his wife if everything was all right. Raven's wariness as her husband, towering over her by several inches, stood beside her only increased. Wordlessly, she nodded, and it was Kirsten who stepped in again to smooth things over. "Sorry for causing distress. We're incredibly rude, dropping in like this, but we're your new neighbors. We found all of these things the Griepentrogs left behind, and we thought you might like to return them." The man's hooded eyes were no friendlier, even as he glanced at Kirsten and said evenly, "You're Kris Weston." Casey turned to his wife. "Darling, this is the graphic designer who'll be taking over Elliot's job." "Your new partner?" Raven's question was really more like a statement, and her coolness was even more visible when 73

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she looked at Kirsten, who was smiling as she gestured at Ash. "This is my husband Nathan. I know this happened so suddenly for all of us. Having us move in and shake things up must be a little strange. From what Elliot said, all of you were close." Casey inclined his head slightly, murmuring, "Elliot left some things for the house with us that they didn't have time to take care of. I'd planned to drop them off with the realtor. We didn't expect anyone to move in so quickly." "When Elliot mentioned he was putting his house up for sale, we took the offer immediately. Since I start work Monday at Bethany Design, it seemed like the thing to do, since we wouldn't have a lot of time to look for a place to live. And Nate hates living out of hotels." Kirsten threaded her arms through his again, smiling up at him before looking back at Raven and Casey. In a reluctant gesture, Casey took the box from Ash, and their gazes clashed for a moment of utter wariness on the part of Raven's husband. Kirsten started talking the second the transfer was complete and Casey and Raven had turned toward the open doorway into their house, saying she'd heard a lot about Bethany Design as she followed them inside before the two of them could be shut out. In the rear, Ash was prepared as he closed the door behind them and stuck one of the transparent microphone transmitters—paper ants—to the wall near the light switch. He also noted that dealing with the security system would be like manipulating a child's toy. By the time 74

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they'd reached the rustic kitchen, which smelled of roasted chicken, Ash had several ants planted. Kirsten's carefree conversation about the job offer that had come from the agency director last night had no relaxing affect on their hosts. The both of them looked utterly ill at ease having the two newcomers in their home, but neither of them were rude enough to admit it out loud. "We're originally from California," Ash said. "Kris worked at an ad agency there. Her agent was the one who talked to Elliot, and the deal on the house was struck and carried out in a couple of hours." Ash put his arm around Kirsten. "Your agent works miracles, doesn't he, baby?" "Definitely." Casey withdrew a large plastic envelope from a drawer, and he handed it over before putting his hands in his pants pockets. "Nate is always telling me I'm friendly enough to choke a horse..." Ash squeezed her shoulders affectionately. "...but we were just going to throw some ribs on the grill tonight. We'd love to have the two of you join us for dinner. After all, we're going to be neighbors and partners at Bethany. We might as well get to know each other." She was irresistible. Ash could see her offer was something the other two didn't want to accept, but she'd left them absolutely no gracious way to refuse. "You must be curious about everything that happened so quickly," Kirsten added as a further inducement, with a crooked grin. "And I have to admit I'm dying to know why 75

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Elliot up and left his job, his house, his life in less than twenty-four hours!" Casey conceded to his own curiosity before glancing at his wife. Kirsten reached out and gave Raven's arm a quick, encouraging clasp. "Promise we won't keep you out too late. And don't worry about bringing anything. We went shopping earlier today, and we're well-stocked. Just come over when you're ready." Both of them gave smiles before they departed, doubtlessly leaving the Harris' in a state of shock at how masterfully they'd been swindled into the dinner get-together without having uttered a single word one way or the other. Hand-in-hand, he and Kirsten walked not slowly, not quickly back to their house. Until Ash had plugged the storage pallets for each ant into the surveillance system and tested all six, they didn't look at each other, and when they did they nodded at each other in satisfaction. Raven's voice came through clearly. "I'm not sure if I want to do this." "Are you too tired?" Casey asked with soft uncertainty. "I could make excuses...." "No. I know we've both been wondering at the coincidence that Elliot up and decided he was quitting last night, and you got a new partner right around the same time. And now they're living in Elliot and Mya's house. We might as well get it over with." "Barb says she's a real hotshot creative. She used to be a commercial artist, and her agent stuck with her when she 76

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went into advertising. She's won awards ... yet I've never heard of her. I'd love to get a look at her portfolio. See if I recognize anything she's done." Barb Bethany, Ash recognized, the founder and director of Bethany Designer. "She said she was from California. You know it's a whole different world out there." Casey made a conceding noise to the fact, then his tone turned strangely uncomfortable and polite. "I hope you didn't go to the trouble of preparing dinner." "It'll keep." After a silence that felt awkward even where Ash and Kirsten stood without seeing them, Casey murmured, "I stopped to pick up the groceries you asked me to. I'll bring them in and get changed. Then we can go over." They heard footsteps, followed by the soft closing of a door. "They're more like acquaintances than husband and wife," Ash said, glancing back. Kirsten stood close enough to him that he could smell the clean scent of the soap she'd used in the shower. "I've never heard two people who've slept together speak so politely and warily to each other," she agreed, and then her cheeks flushed a delicate pink. She turned away from him, saying as much to herself as a reminder to him, "There's not much on them in their profiles, just that they married only three weeks after they met in Hawaii, where she was doing an internship with her uncle, who owned the local newspaper, and he was on a job interview. She got pregnant 77

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soon after they returned to her hometown in Chicago and he got a job as a production artist at Bethany Design. Background intel verifies that she and Reb Porter were lovers for many years before she married Casey, and that Casey had never had a lover or even a girlfriend before her. It must have been a whirlwind courtship, love at first sight, but what happened since then?" "Their only child was killed," Ash reminded. "And that changed their relationship into this polite one? God. But it's been over six years since he died. They're still living together ... like strangers. Why stay? What's the incentive?" "Maybe they still love each other." Kirsten laughed derisively. "They sure had a funny way of showing it. She turned into a block of ice at his approach, and he didn't so much as touch her the entire time we were there." They weren't here to help the Harris' reconcile their marriage, and Ash gently reminded Kirsten of that fact. "Keep the two of them occupied after dinner," he added. "I'll make the excuse of cleaning up the kitchen and getting dessert and coffee, then duck into their house and get what I can installed." She seemed to mentally shake herself out of the off-target questions she had about the nature of the Harris' relationship before she nodded briskly. "I'll be ready."

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Chapter 8 Kirsten peeled the two-way radio earpiece—small as the head of a tack—off the card and stuck it behind her ear, then fluffed her hair around her face. "Can you hear me?" she heard Ash's voice ask from the other end of the house. "Perfectly," she said in her normal tone. "How do I sound?" "Like a melody for my ears only." Kirsten smiled, then pushed the patio door open to the back deck. "Give me some static after dinner if I need to hurry and you can't talk out loud," Ash said through the earpiece. Kirsten reached up and passed the pad of her index finger lightly over the small button, and Ash murmured, "Good." Only moments before, the Harris' had talked about bringing a bottle of wine before coming over. They were just stepping out the door facing Kirsten, and she waved invitingly. Their discomfort was tangible long before they crossed the lawn and climbed the steps of the Griepentrogs' deck. She was there to greet them with a grin, an unwelcomed squeeze of Raven's hand, and the exuberant words, "We're so glad you could come." Casey had changed into slacks and a button-down shirt that didn't look much more comfortable than the suit he'd worn to work. Raven had changed into a pair of sleek trousers and a tunic-length sweater that proved she hadn't lost her willowy figure—she just tended to hide it. She'd also applied a touch of make-up that brought the potential for great beauty 79

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back to her face. Though Kirsten couldn't come to a definitive conclusion because Casey was a firmly closed book, she had the feeling that he'd noticed the change in his wife's appearance. The way he looked at her, as though afraid she'd notice his awareness, told Kirsten that he couldn't keep his eyes off her. Ash came out carrying a small throw pillow for Kirsten, which he set down as soon as he saw that their guests had arrived, the perfect blend of surprise and pleasure in his face. He stepped forward and shook Casey's hand with welcome. Casey thrust the bottle of wine at Ash in a less than subtle effort to get out of the physical contact. "You weren't supposed to bring anything," Kirsten teased, "but I love wine. It'll go perfectly with the ribs. Thank you. Honey, do we have anything for pre-dinner drinks?" Ash laughed, gesturing toward the wet bar on the other side of the deck. "Your friend Elliot left us well-stocked. We won't be thirsty tonight. What'll you have, Casey?" Over the next ten minutes, Kirsten was very certain that befriending the Harris' was going to be a feat all on its own. The both of them sat, not far, not near to each other, and replied briefly to questions without offering their own to keep the conversation flowing. Ash brought her a club soda, then drew her down with him when he sat on a padded lounge chair. "I like to keep my eyes on ad agencies around the country," Kirsten said, trying not to wince at her first contact with Ash's hard lap. "I'd heard of you and Elliot, and I've been watching Bethany Design for years, waiting for an opening. As 80

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soon as I heard Elliot had put in a resignation, effective immediately, I contacted the agency director, faxed her my resume, which I can only guess she found impressive enough to forego the normal hiring procedures." "Listen to her, Miss Modest. Who could resist you?" Kirsten turned her head to look at Ash, and his arms surrounded her. He nuzzled her cheek affectionately. "Why would you come here? My experience with creatives from California is that that's the place to be. It's rare to find someone looking for a way out instead of a way in." "I love traveling, and you know as well as I do that working at an ad agency affords you very little free time to do that. I figure if I can't travel, I'll change my scenery altogether. Five years was long enough in California. I can spend the next five years finding out how much damage I can do in Chicago." She smiled, but Casey frowned as though it made no sense to him. Kirsten added quickly, "I was surprised when Elliot called me just after Barb hired me." "He called you?" "Through my agent, yes. I think he felt guilty, dropping everything the way he did. He's loyal to you and Bethany Design. He wanted to make sure you got a good partner." The way Casey nodded told Kirsten she'd said exactly the right thing. Elliot's phone call—which Angelo had fielded on a specific line within the compound, fit the personality of the man Casey knew in Elliot Griepentrog. Ash's hands went to her shoulders, and he began massaging her as she asked, "I'm beyond curious about what made Elliot drop everything the way he did. I don't know him 81

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or his family, but I can't help wondering. He said something about an unexpected windfall from an obscure relative who died recently?" Though he was clearly reluctant to do so, Casey nodded at her probing. "He'd apparently never met the deceased relative, let alone knew who he was, but the man's lawyer called him yesterday morning. The law firm researched it carefully, and Elliott was the man's long lost great-great nephew. He left Elliot everything—a considerable fortune that Elliot wouldn't have made in ten years of working. Elliot is like you—he and Mya have always wanted to travel the world. Bethany Design pays large salaries for creatives, but, as you said, they work you ten plus hours a day Monday through Sunday. With his job and two teenagers, travel wasn't something they could consider until retirement. Because of this inheritance, Elliot was able to quit his job and they'll be able to afford tutors for the kids when they travel." "Why did he have to drop everything immediately? I mean, that's a life decision in less than twenty-four hours," Kirsten said in surprise that sounded genuine. "There was a codicil in the will that required him and his family to move into the house the uncle left in Phoenix permanently within 24 hours of the will-reading in order to claim the whole of the inheritance. I told Elliot he was crazy for even considering it, but I guess there was little time to think about everything outside of losing an inheritance that would set his family up for the rest of their lives." Kirsten tried not to think about what the Network had done in order to get the Griepentrogs' out of their house and out of 82

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his job. The money would run out much sooner than Elliot expected, but his job would surely be given back to him when Kirsten vacated the position. Shaking her head, she just said, "Wow. I can't imagine having to make a decision like that, but I suppose I would have done the same thing." Ash laughed slightly. "And dragged me along before I had a chance to utter any protest." Raven, who hadn't spoken once since arriving, preferring to listen with a kind of uncertainty about her place in all of it, asked softly if Ash minded that. He shook his head, hugging Kirsten a little tighter as he said, "As long as I'm with this woman, I don't care where I am." The tension increased, not so much because of the lull in the conversation, Kirsten realized, but because of the affection between her and Ash. The soft jazz music Ash had turned on earlier did nothing to dispel the romantic unease either. "Elliot's like that," Casey muttered, looking away from the two of them. "Running off on a whim. Usually Mya grounded him, but this time, the whole family ran with him without a squeak of protest." "All that money can do strange things to people. Can't really blame them," Ash said easily. Kirsten's mind recalled the background profiles on Raven and Casey. She'd come from an upper-class family that owned the five-star restaurant called Pujotes in Central Chicago. After only two years of college, Raven had quit to 83

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work with her ex-boyfriend Reb Porter, who'd been her older brother's best friend throughout school. On the other side of extremes, Casey's family had been dirt poor. He'd been the child of drug and alcohol-addicted parents, and he'd been in his single digits when he'd gotten his first job. He'd left home at an early age, putting himself through college by working two and sometimes three jobs. He'd earned success by the sweat of his own brow. Kirsten had intuited from reading his dossier that he hadn't worked so hard simply to earn the six-figure salary he now enjoyed, but he'd worked to redeem himself, to prove he was nothing like his parents. "How long have you two been married?" Raven asked, surprising Kirsten with her boldness. Nevertheless, her withdrawn manner of speaking and her discomfort hadn't changed one iota. Kirsten glanced back at Ash, smiling when he smiled. "I'd just gotten out of the military. Discharged on an injury that effectively ended my career," he told Raven. "We had a mutual friend who set us up against our wills, but the minute I saw Kris, I knew I had to make her mine. It wasn't so easy to convince her that I was the man for her." Laughing, Kirsten denied the assessment. "I may not have known it in the first minute, but it didn't take long. I was lulled by the sound of his voice. I knew I could listen to him forever." The truth of her words crammed into her throat, try as she might to prevent it. The intensity in Ash's eyes didn't help her 84

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feel any more light-hearted. But then Raven spoke again. "It was the same way. With us." Kirsten forced herself to look away from Ash, tried to ignore his sigh against her ear and the tightening of his hands on her waist, as she smiled at Raven and asked how the two of them had met. "I was in Hawaii for the summer. He was there for a job interview." Casey was gazing at his wife, but even as he did so it was obvious he couldn't face her fully. "I refused him when he asked me on a date. But somehow we ended up at the same restaurant that night. I was working on an article, looked up, and there he was at a table nearby. He'd ordered a steak, and when the waitress asked him how it was, he said..." Raven pursed her lips, shocking Kirsten when she realized the woman was holding back laughter. Even Casey was trying to push down a smile with his fingers near his mouth. "...he told the waitress ... that the steak tasted like..." Raven pressed her hand over her mouth to hold down the laughter begging for release. There were tears in her eyes as she remembered. "He said the steak tasted like it'd been boiled in piss. Just matter-of-factly. "How is everything, sir? Are you enjoying your meal?" "Oh, no problem. Everything's fine. Steak tastes like it was boiled in piss. Thanks for asking."" Kirsten's jaw dropped, and then she burst out laughing. Raven was giggling uncontrollably now, crying at the same time, as she tried to tell the rest of the story, "So the waitress 85

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was ... she was freaking out, insisting that Casey let her take it back, and he wouldn't let her. He just kept saying, "No. It's fine. I'll eat it." Eat this steak that tasted like it'd been boiled in.... And I just started laughing as this woman went back to the kitchen, imagining her telling the chef, 'Maybe you should just go home, Anton. A customer says the steak you made him tastes like boiled piss, but he's going to eat it. Doubt he's going to go for the dessert as an encore. Who knows what you cooked that in? There goes my tip!'" Raven, Kirsten and Ash were all laughing hard enough to cause sideaches, and Casey was grinning both helplessly and sheepishly. "I knew..." Raven gasped, looking completely different within the grip of the hilarious memory. "...I knew at that moment I couldn't let a man who would eat a steak that tasted like it'd been boiled in piss get away." "Have you written this down?" Kirsten demanded when she could stop laughing enough to talk. "You have to write that down!" She turned back to Ash, to see what she knew was genuine joy in his face. A lump formed in her throat, even as she carried out their roles. "You're the writer, honey. You write it down and immortalize it." Ash shook his head, standing as he laughed again. "I don't think anyone could write something that priceless down and do it justice. I am pleased to announce that the ribs will not be boiled, marinated or grilled in piss tonight." "I, for one, am thrilled to hear that." She watched him move down to the barbecue pit just off the deck, then glanced at Raven and Casey. The laughter in her throat halted dead at 86

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the look in Casey's eyes, and his wife's tears were no longer from laughter. Raven stood quickly, making an excuse about cleaning up her face. Casey's gaze followed her as she rushed across the lawn with her head down, his fingers against his mouth like he wanted to call out to her, say something—anything—that would change the course of a raging river that had gone astray six years ago. Ash was watching as the Harris' patio door open and Raven disappeared into it, and then his eyes met Kirsten's, questioning. She offered Casey a refill on his drink to give him time to pull himself together, and he accepted gratefully. When she returned with the drink, she asked Casey what had made him eat something so unpalatable, and he said softly and simply, "I didn't like to complain." That answer fit the personality of the man Kirsten had read about in the mission files. She and Ash worked on getting the meal prepared, and, when quite awhile had passed without the re-appearance of Raven, Kirsten started to wondered if she would come back out. She knew Casey was wondering the same thing as they prepared the table. Although she'd made an attempt to cover it up, it was obvious Raven had been crying when she finally emerged a moment later. Her eyes and the skin around them looked scoured and red. But she was the one who initiated the conversation, no doubt to get the focus off of herself, after they sat down to eat. She asked Ash if he was a writer. 87

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"Haven't finished a novel yet, but I'm working on a political thriller. If I could stop researching and writing and re-writing the first three chapters, I might actually make some progress. But I'm a perfectionist." Kirsten reminded herself, at Raven's quiet interest in this, that she needed to read the three chapters the Network had provided. She knew Vlad had written the highly technical and gory start of the book. Since he taught some English courses in The Shop and had written several of their training manuals, he'd been able to zip off some chapters of a book he'd written in his younger days on the chance that Ash would be requested to produce the work to solidify their cover story for the Harris'. "The three of you stay put," Ash said, standing after the meal and gathering dishes. "I'll clean this up and bring dessert and coffee." Kirsten met his eyes, saw the signal for her to keep the Harris' here, and she smiled. "Thanks, honey. You're the best." He dropped a kiss on the top of her head, then went inside the house before anyone could protest. They'd drawn the vertical blinds on the patio doors purposely earlier, so the Harris' wouldn't be able to see that he wasn't in the kitchen doing exactly what he said he'd be doing. The coffee and dessert were already waiting on the counter, so he could grab that and come out when he returned. As soon as Kirsten turned to the two of them, she knew they were preparing to make their excuses. "Casey, I was 88

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able to find my portfolio in all those boxes that still need to be unpacked. Would you like to see it?" The plans for escape were halted at the only thing Kirsten knew could keep them here at the moment. Casey glanced at his wife. "Would you mind, darling? It won't take long." "No. Of course not." She quite obviously said the exact opposite of what she was feeling. "Great. I'll go get it. Be back in a sec. Help yourself to another drink." Kirsten gathered dishes before slipping inside. She saw that Ash had already gone next door, an invisible exit from here to there. They were on the clock, and she had to do everything in her power to keep Casey and Raven here as long as she possibly could.

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Chapter 9 "I think I can keep them here at least fifteen more minutes, showing them the portfolio," Kirsten's silky voice said in his ear. "Work fast." "I'll do what I can." Ash found the security system panel on the side of the house farthest from the Harris' deck. Cloaked between two thick tall shrubs, he removed the panel screws, then inserted the micro-chip that would alert them at the listening post if anyone circumvented or breached the security system from the outside. As he worked, he noted that the system hadn't been engaged before Clay and Raven visited next door. They probably figured they were close by and would see anyone who might try to enter. Grimacing, Ash replaced the panel before running the wand bug scanner over the area to make sure someone hadn't already placed surveillance on the house. The flashing green lights remained green. Then he inserted a U-key into the French door nearby, unlocked it, and slipped inside. Working quickly, he peeled and placed paper ants in every room, hall and even the walk-in closets throughout the house. The last room he came to was the master bedroom upstairs. Once audio tags were in place, he glanced at an angle out a window to see Kirsten down on the deck next door, showing off the portfolio the Network had prepared and back-filled cover histories on. They were about a quarter of the way through with the book. 90

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He had time to get a few of the wireless video cameras in. As he worked efficiently through the upstairs, his memory recorded the dimensions of the rooms he was in. Each room got a bug sweep before he began work. When he glanced out another window, he saw the three of them were nearing the end of the portfolio. He didn't have much time, but he knew Kirsten would hold them there for awhile after they completed the book. Few operatives had the acting skills Kirsten did. She could play seemingly any part as though it was as natural to her as breathing. Yet in real life she put everyone off. Outside of loyal respect for her mentor Angelo, encouraging but strict requirements for her students, and the lover she'd had for six years before he was captured and killed, she showed no real attachment for anyone or anything except her job. She was known around the compound as 'the terminator'. He'd heard rumors that she could kill as easily as she could kiss. They'd all been bred that way in the Shop. Kirsten was logical to a fault. She did what she had to do. But Ash didn't believe she was a machine. He'd seen chinks in her armor, ones she was good at sealing up when they leaked vulnerability, but she couldn't prevent the fissures from erupting occasionally, no matter how much she wanted to. She was human, as human as they came. Ash was reaching for the only closed door on the second floor when static filled his ear. Time was up. Swearing under his breath, he didn't hesitate. He slid down the baluster to the main floor, flew to the French door he'd come in, locking it behind him, and moved around the front of the house. Kirsten 91

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was blocking their view of the street, but Ash crossed the street instead of going directly in front of the houses into the open. Kirsten had bought him thirteen minutes, he noted on his watch once inside the Griepentrogs' house. He dumped his equipment bag into a drawer and grabbed the dessert tray. The three of them turned toward the patio door when he came out, smiling and feigning disappointment when they insisted they'd have to skip dessert and coffee. "Maybe you could show me your portfolio tomorrow," Kirsten suggested to Casey, giving them a way back into the Harris' home the next day. Casey shoved both hands into the pockets of his slacks, nodding. "I'll be going in to work tomorrow. Elliot and I were given one of the largest accounts the firm has ever gotten just last week. We were still coming up with initial concepts when he quit." "Well then, I'll go in tomorrow, too. No reason to wait until Monday. What time will you be leaving?" "Eight, nine a.m." Ash wrapped his arms around her from the back. "Oh, the things I put up with," he complained good-naturedly, and she laughed. While she was at work with Casey, he'd have to find a way into the Harris' house. Since Raven most likely wouldn't leave, he'd have to engineer another way to get all the surveillance equipment in place. He had a good idea how to do it, too. The Harris' offered their uncomfortable goodbyes, and he and Kirsten waved, watching them leave their deck. Ash 92

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eased his hand under Kirsten's top, splaying his fingers against her flat abdomen. He heard her soft gasp, but she didn't stop him when he went the other way and slipped his hand below the waistband of her jeans. She just stayed in character by murmuring, "What am I going to do with you?" "I can think of a few things. Do you want to read my mind or should I just save time and show you?" Laughing deep in her throat, she said, "I don't think I need to read your mind to know what you're thinking about." Raven glanced back toward them surreptitiously when they reached their own deck, and Ash drew Kirsten around, into his arms and into his kiss. It was Kirsten's mouth, one he knew as well as his own, and he recognized the clean taste of her, but the fullness of her warm lips were different only until her lips fell open and she sighed. Hell, he wouldn't easily forget how swollen her lips became when he'd kissed them for a long time. The Harris' were back in their house, but he didn't want to let Kirsten go just yet. Knowing he couldn't touch her where it might cause her pain, and not willing to push the boundaries of what was permissible for the mission, he cradled her face in his hands, tipped her head to the side and kissed her as deeply as she'd let him. His emotions clenched when he looked at her and found her eyes closed. Most of the female operatives wouldn't close their eyes during a kiss, even on a mission. Kirsten hadn't the first couple of times they'd gone out together and kissing was warranted. On the Vegas mission... 93

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I can't need her again. Once was enough to scorch, twice ... Ah hell, twice implies I never stopped wanting her. Ash forced himself to draw back, and she opened her eyes with effort. That look on her face, that soft look ... Ash took a deep breath when he recalled where he'd seen it before. She'd had the look about her each time on the Vegas mission after she'd been satisfied in his arms during 'simulated' lovemaking, and she'd snuggled into his arms like she never wanted to leave them. She was coming back to herself now, back to the current mission. He could see it and, irrationally, he didn't want it. He leaned down again, kissed her, sweet, soft, so her eyes opened wide in surprise. There was no reason to continue keeping up the front—they were no longer being observed. No reason except that he wanted to hear her moan his name again in a drugged way that told him she got stoned just like he did when they kissed. Ash took her mouth again, harder, deeper, past the current mission and past her defenses. Her eyes slid closed once more, and she gave what could have been a soft sound of protest or crumbling willpower. She'd known he was there. As soon as his arms surrounded her from the back beneath the hot shower, he knew she'd been aware of him the whole time. The mission was over, but this wasn't over. It couldn't be, or he wouldn't keep his sanity. His mouth on her neck, his hands snaked flat down her stomach to the juncture between her thighs. Her moan as he penetrated her the way he hadn't been allowed to before just about drove him straight out of his senses, but 94

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then she was turning to him. "Finish it," she whispered just before their mouths came together, he lifted her back against the tile, and lowered her onto his hardness... "Ash," Kirsten whispered, bringing him back to the present. Her hands were clenched in his shirt fiercely and she laid her face against his chest. His breathing was harsh and fast, his manhood throbbing at a memory that felt painful enough to make his heart bleed again. He was shaking as he held her captive, the way he'd told himself he couldn't after the Vegas mission, after he finally took what they both wanted, while he'd emptied himself without satisfaction inside her sweet body. He'd walked away then, even as the contractions inside her body tried to keep him where he was. He'd gotten himself a deep cover mission so he wouldn't have to face her for months. Even then, he'd known he couldn't escape his need for her. When she looked up at him now, his breath held in his throat like an elevator trapped in the shaft. "Let's go in the house," she said softly, gliding away from him, out of his arms, and picking up the tray. "How much did you get done?" her tone was cool once inside. She set the tray down on the kitchen counter, turning to face him. Her all-business expression irritated him the way he shouldn't let it. "Security system alert, temp audio surveillance throughout the house. Video capabilities in most of the upstairs rooms, but I didn't get a chance to program a control panel in an inconspicuous area, so the screen'll be fuzzy until I can get that operational." 95

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"Those paper ants will dissolve in thirty-six hours," Kirsten said what he knew. Since the microphone transmitters were biologically manufactured, they'd begun to break down as soon as he'd separated them from their storage pallets. They had less than forty-eight hours to get permanent surveillance in place before they completely dissolved. "You'll have to find a way in tomorrow while I'm at Bethany Design. I'll install the equipment in his office and car then." The wireless video cameras were equipped with permanent audio capabilities, so as soon as he could get the video components throughout the house and program the control panel inside, the internal security would be secure. "Casey was impressed with the portfolio," Kirsten said as he plugged the pallets in, then tested them at the listening post. Everything was working. "But they both wanted to leave. It was an effort to keep them here as long as I did." "They have a large house," Ash said, shrugging. "It'll take me at least fifteen, twenty more minutes to finish the job inside." "How are you going to get in?" "I've got a good idea how to do it." Kirsten nodded, trusting him without asking for specifics. "We have to search the house, too." "I'll do what I can tomorrow, but right now let's get the surveillance done. It'll be dark in about a half hour. We can get started on the perimeter installations then." "I'll send Angelo a B&A on our progress while we wait. Do you want to gather your equipment?" 96

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Their eyes met for an instant, and she turned away too quickly to refute the knowledge that she was still affected by him. "Do you want me to take the first shift tonight?" she asked, her tone nowhere near as confident as she'd tried to make it when they'd first come in the house. "Not logical, Ulrick. You've been working for more than twenty-four hours without rest, and your surgery was more invasive than mine. You need rest. I'll take the first shift." He expected her to argue, but she glanced at him quickly, nodding. "Thanks. Even four hours sounds like heaven right now." She turned to the computer and started typing. Ash eyed her, taking in the sweet curve of her new blond hair over her shoulders. Just once I'd like to predict you, lady. Maybe I could stop thinking about you if you were predictable.

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Chapter 10 Ash's hand on her abdomen woke Kirsten from a sound sleep. He sat at the edge of the bed, and her first thought was to wonder how long he'd been there. The look on this face was quietly intense. Rubbing her eyes, Kirsten sat up and looked at the clock. It was about five a.m. Just as she'd suspected he would, Ash had let her sleep over an hour later than he should have. "Do you want to take a quick shower?" he asked, and she nodded. When he stood, she saw he wore the mobile earpiece that allowed them to leave the listening post yet still hear everything going on. "Yeah. Do you mind?" He shook his head as she eased out of the bed, where he'd been sitting. "How do you feel?" he asked neutrally, his gaze at odds with his tone as it took a sinuous journey up her bare legs, to the pair of cotton bikini panties and white tank she'd slept in. I dreamed about him, Kirsten realized as heat coursed through her and made her nipples and her uncomfortably full breasts tighten and swell even more. Like I haven't allowed myself to in years, even if it meant going without sleep. His face looked like granite as he stared at her puckered nipples like he wanted to devour them with hands and mouth. "I'm fine," she told him softly, afraid to stand up because she'd be so close to him. He didn't look at all like he was willing to step back to give her breathing room. At the 98

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moment, she didn't have the oxygen to spare. "Anything happening?" They'd managed to get the surveillance equipment around the Harris' house in under an hour. She'd kept watch, and everything had been quiet. The only moment of panic had come when she saw a figure watching from a dark window in the house behind the Harris'. She'd brought up her thermal binoculars, and then almost choked on a laugh when she saw a nosy cat sitting in the windowsill, staring at them with extreme curiosity. "No. Everything's been quiet. No visitors." As if by sheer force of will, he forced himself to the door, saying, "Go ahead and shower" without looking back at her. Knowing that because he'd allowed her extra time to sleep he'd have less, Kirsten showered in less than three minutes, dressed, and went out to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. "Did they talk about anything last night?" she asked as she pulled her hair into a band to keep it off her face. Ash poured her a cup of coffee. "Not really. She asked him how he thought he'd like working with you, sounded tense about the fact, probably jealous of you, but he must have shrugged or something. I assume he was working downstairs most of the night. She was reading downstairs. Separate rooms. He went to bed around eleven. Alone." Frowning, Kirsten sipped from her mug. "When did she join him?" "She didn't. I don't think she slept. They're strangers. They live together, they're joined in legal matrimony, but they're strangers." 99

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Though he'd reminded her earlier that Casey and Raven's physical lives, not their personal lives, were all that mattered, Kirsten could hear the curiosity in his tone—one that matched her own. "They didn't touch each other once when they were here. When they look at each other, they both seem uncomfortable and they look away quickly. They don't talk, they avoid each other—they go out of their way to avoid each other, it seems. None of our business." Yet they'd lost a child to what they both believed was an accident. Maybe they'd never recovered from their son's death, individually or as a couple. "Originally, their personal lives didn't seem to be a part of our mission, but if one or both of them have lost the will to live because of the loss of their son, that becomes a problem for us," Ash said, surprising her. "If I had to guess, I'd say she's almost there. She's not gonna be careful. She won't be paying attention to anything but her own grief, one she's lived with for six years. It's a hell of a lot harder to protect someone who doesn't care if they live or die." "What are you suggesting?" Ash shook his head tiredly. "Nothing. We proceed as planned, but we find out everything we can about them. Anything that might help us protect them. The way it's set up with our covers, you work on the husband. I'll work on Raven." Instinctively, Kirsten didn't like the idea of getting involved with the lives of her 'mission material'. For her own personal reasons, and because Raven and Casey Harris had already been through an emotional wringer. 100

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"Did you report to headquarters?" Ash nodded. "Then get some sleep. If I'm going to go to the office with Casey this morning, you'll need to be ready by about nine." He handed her the mobile surveillance earpiece, and Kirsten refilled her cup to avoid watching him leave the room. As soon as she heard the creak of the bed, she walked around the house, looking out each side before stepping out to check the perimeter. There was no activity at this time of the morning. She dialed the outside team, and Noah Harlow answered crisply, telling her everything was clear. Kirsten took her coffee to the listening post, sitting down and seeing the blueprint Ash had drawn up of the Harris' house. Each room was labeled. In those that he'd spent enough time in, he'd listed exact dimensions of the room and closet. Glancing up, she scanned each video camera. Raven Harris wasn't in any of them, which mean she was either in the last bedroom upstairs that Ash hadn't gotten to, or she was downstairs. The camera in the master bedroom was fuzzy, but she saw Casey asleep on the bed. Adjusting some of the audio controls, Kirsten heard a sound she recognized after a moment as the pages of a book turning. Later, she got up and went to the living room window, which now had curtains, and she looked across the way to the Harris' home. A small light was on in the room that Kirsten had seen for only an instant when she and Ash had followed the Harris' into their home. Raven was in the living room. Moments later, the light went off and, hearing 101

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movement in the house in her mobile earpiece, Kirsten drew back to the listening post. Someone was walking barefoot, toes whispering over the floor surfaces. Raven. Frowning in concentration, Kirsten listened for twenty long minutes as Raven roamed the house like a ghost. For part of that time, she'd been upstairs before she disappeared from the fuzzy video screens. She looked completely lost, silent tears falling as though she didn't notice them, especially when she opened the door to the room in which Ash hadn't been able to complete surveillance. The door closed behind her as she was swallowed up into the darkness. Movement in another camera made Kirsten's gaze skitter back to the master bedroom. Casey was sitting up in the bed, the shine of his eyes visible. She realized he was as aware of his wife's movements as she was herself. He'd heard her roaming and he'd heard her disappear into the room at the end of the hall. What sounded like all the air he'd been holding trapped in his lungs expelled, and he moaned. The early morning light had begun to penetrate the darkness, and she clearly saw tears tracking down his drawn face. Kirsten pursed her lips, her chest tight with emotion and shame for intruding on the privacy of two people so saturated with grief. A strange stinging came to the back of her eyes when, a half hour later, Casey left his room and went down to what sounded like the kitchen, judging from the sounds of utensils striking pans and plates. 102

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Raven emerged from the dark room not long later. Her face as taut as a skull, and she soon disappeared from the cameras as she went down the staircase. The conversation that came from the couple in the same room was both excruciatingly tender and equally awkward, as Casey tried to take care of a woman who didn't seem capable of taking care of herself. Kirsten pondered their relationship. Does he feel he has nothing else to give her? Why does he avoid her, hide from her, yet he treats her like a fragile doll he has to shelter and care for? "Did you sleep?" Casey asked Raven what he already knew. "No." "Did you want something else? I can make—" Raven sighed. "I'm not hungry." "You need to eat, Raven. You're too thin." In the silence that followed, Kirsten heard forks against the plates. Raven was making an effort to eat something at his desperate urging. "What will you do today?" he asked, and she made a noncommittal sound in reply. "Didn't your mother invite you to go shopping with her?" "I can't. I'll clean up the dishes. You get ready for work." Even during the half hour when Casey showered and dressed for work, the strangling grip holding Kirsten's throat didn't lessen. She jumped when Ash came into the kitchen, and she realized she'd been listening so intensely, she hadn't 103

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heard him get up, let alone heard the shower he'd clearly just taken. Ash was right. This woman was on the edge. Raven didn't care if she lived or died, and she didn't believe she had anything to live for. And her own husband was too afraid or grieved to help her. It would make her much harder to protect. "Anything happening?" Ash asked as he started a fresh pot of coffee she knew she should have made. The final decay of a relationship that'd started so memorably, Kirsten thought. "No. He's going to be leaving for work soon." "Go ahead and get ready. I'll make breakfast." After listening to Casey prepare a meal that had no doubt gone largely uneaten, Kirsten found tears springing into her eyes at Ash's words. He saw them, and asked if she was all right. Swallowing, she nodded and rubbed her eyes. God, I'm tired. I'm getting too involved in this couple's problems. She couldn't allow it to affect her work. "You okay?" "Fine. Just tired. I'll report in, and then get ready." She knew Ash was watching her as she sat at the computer. His concern did nothing to make her feel stable, not when he was the only man who'd ever really known her inside, and he had no reason to believe she'd done anything outside of played a part. 104

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Chapter 11 Ash had been waiting the better part of the morning to make his move next door. The neighborhood had been quiet, but by lunchtime movement could be seen as people got up late on the weekend and began to enjoy the warm weather. Little movement could be sensed next door with Raven Harris. The bugs he'd installed were beginning to break down, and the sounds he heard were accompanied by static. His signal that it was time came in her groan of frustration, and he verified on the video monitor that she was in the shower. Ash made a phone call, saying only, "Now." Everything was in place for him to get in a second time. An official-looking postal car pulled up in front of the house and proceeded to drop off mail in the Griepentrogs' box. Ash went out casually, pulled out a stack of mail, saw they were all addressed to the former occupants, as expected, and then he started down the sidewalk to the Harris' home. He anticipated having to ring the doorbell more than once, like yesterday, but Raven opened it quickly. She was dressed in a kneelength satin robe. Her wariness was still in place, yet she showed no surprise at seeing him. Ash grinned irresistibly. "I don't know if Elliot had time to stop his mail, but I thought you might have an easier time getting this to him than I would." He handed her a stack of envelopes rolled in a newspaper. "Thank you," she murmured, and her lips pursed. She didn't close the door immediately, as he expected her to try. She looked exhausted. Ash knew she'd slept for about an 105

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hour that morning, in the bed her husband had vacated. But her hesitation was more than tiredness. "Is everything all right?" he asked, friendly, undemanding in the face of her lack of courage to say what she wanted to say. "Is your ... is your water working next door?" "Huh?" "Your water. I was about to take a shower, and I turned on the taps but nothing happened. I hate to call Casey about this because it's probably something that can be fixed in five minutes and I just don't know how...." "I haven't noticed whether the water is out in our house for the last hour or so, but I can take a look for you." She swept her thick, mussed hair back from her forehead. "I'm sorry. You're probably writing." Ash laughed as she opened the door wider to him. "Trying to avoid it, actually. Suffering writers' block at the moment, which, in my case, is mostly laziness. I'd welcome any distraction. The longer the better." The uncertainty in her face matched the way she clutched her already tightly closed robe at the collar. He decided he better get moving before she changed her mind. "How do I get down the basement?" he asked, though he well knew. "This way." From the foyer, she walked to the right where the living room was. At the base of the staircase, she unlocked and opened a door, standing back to let him go first. Ash heard her behind him, but she stopped at the bottom of the stairs. 106

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"Do you know where the water shut-off valves are?" he asked, and she shook her head, offering an apology for her ignorance. "Don't worry, I'll find them." As he walked past a storage room and laundry facilities, to a corner near the fuse box, she asked, "Did ... did your wife go to work this morning?" Ash chuckled. "Are you kidding? Kris is a workaholic. She would have gone even if your husband didn't. She was champing at the bit to get the lay of the land." Raven's soft "I understand that" came, barely audible, while Ash quickly and quietly installed the control panel for the audio and video systems next to the fuse box. "Does it bother you that your husband works so many hours a week?" Ash asked to cover the lull. "Doesn't it bother you?" "Used to it, I guess. Kris has worked tirelessly from the time we met. Her career is important to her. She's good at it. We make the most of our time together when she's home." Ash closed the small, innocuous box he doubted Raven and Casey would even notice, then walked back to Raven. He had only time to see her strange, lonely expression before she turned and started back up the steps. "I need to look at all your faucets." "Do you know what's wrong?" Ash smiled and it seemed to put her off until he said, "I should ... as soon as I've looked at your faucets." She waved toward the kitchen. Ash went in, checked and found the water was off, according to plan. For appearance sake, he checked the other ones downstairs, confirming for 107

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her that the water was off. As they went upstairs, he asked, "Do you work?" The noticeable stiffening in her body and face was proceeded by an exhale, then the words, "I was an investigative journalist, but not anymore." "Hmm, so we're both writers." "Not anymore," she repeated, but fainter that time. "Well, let me check outside. See if this is something with each faucet or what." She nodded, following him downstairs once more but not out the nearest patio door and off the deck. At the water meter, Ash removed the flow stemmer he'd put on it that morning. Then he turned on the outside faucet, got a gush of water, and turned it off again. "Outside works," he told her when he came back in. "Let's check the others again." He deliberately went back upstairs to the master bathroom she'd been about to shower in earlier. Water poured out. She frowned in confusion. "Well, what in the world happened?" Ash shrugged. "City must have had a water main break somewhere around the area, and they turned the water off until it was fixed. Works now." She seemed embarrassed by her ignorance. "I'm sorry I troubled you." "No trouble at all. I'll check all the faucets again, just to make sure, wash up, and get out of here. Go ahead and shower. I'll let myself out." "Thank you." 108

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"Didn't do anything." Looking uncomfortable, she nodded. "If you're not doing anything later, why not come over for a glass of iced tea? I plan to spend the rest of the day enjoying the nice weather out on the deck and avoiding my book. We can wait for our spouses together in pleasant company." Her mouth opened, but no words came out. He said, "See you later," before leaving the bathroom, and closing the door of the master bedroom behind him. Turning on the tap in the regular bathroom upstairs, he kept it on for thirty seconds, then went back out and down the stairs to the kitchen. After turning on the water there for thirty seconds, he went to the downstairs bathroom, ran the water for a little longer than the last times before going to the front door. Upstairs, he heard a bedroom door open softly as Raven listened for his departure. He opened the front door, waited a second and closed it. Soundlessly, he ducked back into the kitchen and turned off his satellite phone. Seconds later, he heard the bedroom door upstairs close. Instead of waiting, he got to work installing the cameras in the kitchen. The shower upstairs went on, and he worked faster. In less than five minutes, he'd installed the surveillance cameras throughout the downstairs and the garage, checking each room for prior bugs before he started work. Then he went back upstairs and went to the room he hadn't gotten to yesterday. It was a child's bedroom. A child who'd liked superheroes, Star Wars and Indian in the Cupboard books, astronomy. The 109

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room looked as though nothing had been moved in it for years, but it'd been dusted. It was neat. There was a fish in a bowl on the dresser. Someone had been in here often enough to keep this fish alive. The shower went off. Ash shoved aside his personal interest and went to work on the cameras. In a minute, he was back downstairs. Slipping down the basement again, he began to program the control panel. The lights in the basement went off suddenly. Immediately after, the door closed and he heard it lock from above. Ash hadn't expected her to come to the basement at all. They'd turned the lights out when they left the first time. Accepting it for the moment, he stuck a penlight between his teeth and completed the programming, replaced the box, and this time put the screws in to secure it. At the foot of the stairs, he listened for movement behind the door, but heard none. He inserted a U-key into the lock, carefully turned it to release the lock, then he opened the door a crack. Across from the door was the kitchen, and Raven was in it. There'd be no time to search for the evidence. Ash pulled the door closed again. He'd have to wait until she was in another part of the house to make his escape. The basement had no direct exit to the outdoors and the windows weren't intended to be opened. They were mere panels that allowed in light. The sensors he and Kirsten had installed last night would alert them to anyone getting close enough to break one of them, intending to gain entry. A few minutes later, Ash opened the door a crack again, ducked back out when Raven appeared with a steaming mug 110

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and started out of the kitchen. He gave it another minute before he eased the door open again, saw it was clear and slid out, putting his back to the door. When he glanced around the staircase, he heard the click of a cup meeting the glass coffee table from the living room. His path was clearest through the same French door he'd come in through last night. In only a few moments, he was back inside the Griepentrogs' house. After he punched in the codes to connect to the control panel he'd installed in the basement, he turned his sat phone on again. It beeped an incoming call as he viewed each camera and found Raven in the living, sipping broth while she glanced through the mail he'd given her for the Griepentrogs'. "Everything's set up on this end," Kirsten told him when he put his phone to his ear. "Got it. Same here." "Good work. Evidence?" "Negative. Another time. How's it going there?" he asked. "No problem." "Good." She severed the connection. Ash leaned forward and programmed the system to receive signals from Bethany Design, Casey's car and his briefcase. Knowing Kirsten, she'd had no trouble at all getting the surveillance in place. She'd enjoy knowing he'd been locked in the basement when he submitted his B&A. He drew the blueprint he'd started of the Harris' house toward him and began filling in the dimensions he'd kept track of today as he'd worked. 111

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That nine-year-old boy's room ... taken care of as well, or better, than it probably had been when he was alive, Ash thought, disturbed about the fact even when he didn't want to be. Six years after his death, his mother still kept his room pristine, as though she was waiting for him to come home to it.

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Chapter 12 Perimeter was clear, Kirsten noted as she drove onto the Griepentrogs' driveway approach. Casey, right behind her, drove straight into his garage and the door closed automatically after. She got out of her car, took a walk around the house to find everything undisturbed, then she went inside. Ash was at the listening post. "So how did it go?" Kirsten asked as she put down the laptop she'd gotten from Bethany Design, loaded with all the software the company preferred employees to use. She set it on a table behind the listening post and started to take it out of the case. "An in and out job, but there was no way to stick around for the search." "Did you talk about anything?" she asked as she made the laptop connections, then started the boot. "Not much. She told me she used to be an investigative journalist, didn't want to talk about it more than that, and it was clear she's bothered by Casey's long hours. I invited her to come out and have iced tea with me while we waited for the two of you, but she didn't take me up on it." Kirsten heard something in Ash's voice and turned to him. She saw the blueprint of the Harris' home, saw an area upstairs that had written on it 'Ripley's room'. Sitting down, she said, "The room upstairs you didn't bug yesterday—that's the boy's, huh?" 113

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Ash nodded. "It was ... just like it probably was before he was killed. All his things, still in their places. Like a shrine. Clean and..." He shook his head, and Kirsten could see how tired he was. Not just tired. Bothered, against his will. "What?" she asked softly. "There's a goldfish in a bowl in the room. The fish is still alive and well cared for. I think it was the kid's fish. She keeps it alive. She keeps his room clean like she's just waiting for him—" To come back. God. "Why don't you go get some sleep?" she suggested carefully. "You've been on quite a few hours with little rest. Did you give Angelo a B&A?" "A few minutes ago. How are you?" "I'm fine." She turned her chair toward the laptop and clicked on the design program she'd been using earlier. Ash stood behind her, setting the mobile earpiece beside her in case she needed it. He watched her for several minutes before asking, "What are you doing?" "I'm rusty. I haven't done any art, especially on computer, for years." "Did Casey say something?" Ash asked, his gaze narrow at the thought her cover might be blown if she wasn't as good as her resumé promised. Kirsten shook her head. "I just acted like I was nervous about jumping into the partnership of an award-winning team. But I want to come up with something for the ad campaign tonight." 114

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He nodded. "I'll take six then." Kirsten watched him leave the room, then turned her chair to look back at the monitors. In the living room, Casey was going through the mail while Raven surreptitiously watched him from behind a book. For the next several hours, Kirsten alternated between working up campaign designs, checking the videos, and taking strolls around the house. In that time, Casey and Raven went to separate rooms without speaking. Raven didn't tell her husband that Ash had been there earlier that day. When Kirsten heard the shower much later, she sat back as the printer whirred with the task she'd given it. Her back was stiff and she was starving. Ash no doubt would be hungry when he got out of the shower, too. Standing, she turned to the video cameras, saw Raven in the kitchen, Casey in his home office, and then she slid the mobile earpiece around the shell of her ear before going to look into dinner possibilities for her and Ash. She glanced up from putting together huge roast beef and swiss sandwiches when Ash entered the room, freshly showered and smelling good enough to make her intensely aware of him. She was rapidly getting used to his new appearance. Somehow the shorter hair and dark coloring made him more approachable. In the past, she'd always been intimidated by him, not simply because he was so damn good looking. She'd often thought he'd used his long hair like a shroud, like something to keep people out. "These are really good," Ash said, holding up the printouts of the work she'd done for the ad campaign. "Clever." 115

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Kirsten smiled, bringing the tray of sandwiches over. She was pleased with herself, especially when she saw the hard copies. "Thanks. I don't think he'll be suspicious of my cover anyway." "No, I don't think he will be at all. Thanks for making dinner. Did you want to eat on the deck?" "Let me grab the iced tea, and I'll be right out." Ash waited just long enough for her to sit down and pour them each tea before he dug in hungrily, murmuring gratefully that the sandwiches were good. She picked up a sandwich and joined him ravenously. "I've been thinking," she said as she polished off a second. He looked up from his third. "Why hasn't Jameson moved in on the scene yet? I mean, if it was me, with the kind of odds he has in this situation since he failed to take out McKee, I'd strike quickly. Why didn't he off the Harris' before we ever got here? The perimeter team couldn't have moved in fast enough if Jameson and Terranzo came gunning for all they were worth. They could have done some serious damage. It doesn't make sense." "Angelo moved too quickly," Ash said. "He's been onto Jameson for a while. He's predicted his movements accurately. Jameson probably knew it, too. The only card Jameson has now—now that he failed to get rid of McKee—is surprise." Kirsten shook her head, sipping her tea. That didn't add up any more than any of the other scenarios she'd come up with. "Why do you think he hasn't moved in, then?" Kirsten put down her sandwich to expound her theory. 116

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"Well, we know from the debriefing files that Angelo went to New York, followed Kyle Vincent there when he went to protect Elizabeth. Jameson sent Terranzo's goons in to take them out. Even if Kyle and Elizabeth are dead, I bet with Angelo there the three of them took out most, if not all, of Terranzo's men. Then they attacked Shannon McKee, and he lost even more men. What if Terranzo decided he lost way too much? Jameson's an over-confident son-of-a-bitch. He would have assumed the two jobs would be simple. Instead, they were both bloodbaths. If Terranzo doesn't have enough men for his own dealings, he's looking at a salvage operation, and he'll cut his ties so he doesn't lose more." Ash's eyes were intense as he considered it. "So Jameson is alone, or mostly alone. He hasn't moved in because he doesn't have enough men to do the job without laying himself open for capture." Kirsten nodded, waiting for his assessment of her logic. "So the element of surprise really is his own advantage at this point. We should mention this to Angelo right away. He can throw out some nets, find out what Terranzo's doing." Ash came to his feet, and Kirsten put her arm out to keep him from going. "Already done that, just in case. Angelo should have something for us later tonight or tomorrow." Sitting again, this time closer to her, his grin emerged. "What?" Ash shook his head. "Nothing. Just ... no one could ever fault your logic, Ulrick. That's for damn sure." A memory stole immediately into Kirsten's mind and whispered out of her subconscious. "No one could fault your 117

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logic under the circumstances. You did what you had to do to complete the mission and save the team." Kirsten felt the color drain from her face, as if someone had sucker-punched her—just like she had when an unbelievably sympathetic Giles Jameson had spoken that sentence, acquitting her conduct on the mission during which Roan Emory had lost his life. He'd never before had the guts to claim he cared about the fact that lives had been spared. Kirsten had had to assume he'd been grieving for the loss of his pet operative, just as she did. "I didn't mean that. That was a long time, and you have nothing to feel guilty about," Ash said softly. She stood, saying in a trembling, unnatural voice, "Do you want more iced tea?" She saw he wanted to say something, but after a moment he shook his head and didn't prevent her from fleeing.

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Chapter 13 It was supposed to have been just another mission—a dangerous one, but nothing special—but there was something about it... "We'll be going in layers, two teams," Angelo spoke coldly. "Emory will be on point, Ulrick in second position. Any intel is to be extracted intact. Bring back the R.C.C. heads. Barnett, you'll plant the charges. Tyler will be on Tactical from the van, Pluzetti here in the compound." Kirsten hadn't been able to stop herself from asking what she knew most of the team would be wondering: "How solid is this intel?" Finding a remote command center of R.E.D., a seemingly invisible, highly-militant terrorist group out of Mexico, was, of itself, suspicious. R.E.D. rarely made mistakes, not when they were led by a man called 'the Black Pope', a ruthless killer who seemed to have God—or the devil—on his side, he so rarely lost. "Ninety-eight percent certainty," Justine Fielding confirmed. "How can we be sure this isn't an ambush?" Ash asked exactly what Kirsten was thinking. The R.C.C. location had fallen into their laps like a gift from heaven. She didn't trust gifts, especially those that seemed far too good to be true. "Our sources confirm that this is the real thing," Angelo said, and Kirsten heard the edge in his tone that told her he had qualms, too. "We'll be going out in two hours. Study your 119

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panels until then. Pick up your equipment and assemble at Transport 4 at 0900 hours." "Doesn't feel right," Kirsten said, when they were in Level 3 and higher standby quarters. Usually her instincts matched Roan's. This night, he shrugged without looking up from the PDA. "What's the problem? We can get him." His long, thick hair framed his face like a warrior, giving him an aura of intense concentration that sometimes frightened her. "The Black Pope won't be there." "No, but the chance that we can get a location on him is there." He set down his panel, moving over to the bed. His sultry gaze slid down her body in appreciation, and she couldn't deny the corresponding pulse that went through her. "We've got two hours, sugar." And he never liked to waste a minute. Kirsten swallowed at the tone in his voice, one she well knew. For six years she'd gone through this with him. Though personal relationships were forbidden in the Network, they'd carried on without punishment in all that time. But then she knew Jameson didn't dare try to stop them. Roan would take it to #1 in Washington, and Jameson would never risk his position as #2 over something he probably didn't consider worth remembering. "We need to study the mission parameters." Especially considering her qualms. Roan stood long enough to undress, then his long, hard body was covering hers and he was kissing her beyond hope of convincing him otherwise. Even if she'd wanted to refuse 120

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him, her position in their relationship was black and white. The only thing standing between her and Jameson was Roan Emory. Whatever he wanted of her, she would do. Anything was better than.... Kirsten closed her eyes, trying to block out the picture of Jameson's cruel smile as she screamed, bled, as he emptied himself into her helpless body. Anything was better. Roan knew exactly how to pleasure her. He never failed to give her twice what he took from her. Yet she always felt cold when he left the bed with his machine-heart fully charged. Roan wasn't Jameson. No, he wasn't. But he was close. Hours later, all of her instincts were needle-sharp from within the R.C.C. as she'd whispered, "Something isn't right here" through the micro radio earpiece. "She's right," Ash said from the back, where he'd been planting charges all around the facility as they'd gathered intel just laying around as though someone had wanted them to find it. The infrared goggles she wore suddenly filled with light as soldiers came out of hiding. Only moments ago, Hunter had told them from the van that the place was frosty; no one else was inside. R.E.D. had somehow blocked their thermal heat scans. "Alpha team engaging hostiles," Roan reported. "Beta team, advance and engage." Kirsten dove behind a line of steel barrels, and Ash followed her a second later. Bullets whizzed by as the two of 121

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them ducked in and out, firing and re-loading. They were seriously outnumbered. She heard Roan command, as calm as ever, through the earpiece: "We've been ambushed. All teams, fall back to your egresses." Kirsten fired again, taking out several soldiers, and Ash muttered, "Go. I'll cover you." "Beta Team's primary egress is blocked," Noah Harlow's voice reported. "Repeat, primary egress is blocked." "All teams, proceed to secondary egress," Angelo commanded from Comm Central. "Roan, do you have line of sight to secondary egress?" Kirsten asked. "Everyone, out. I'll cover your retreat," came his reply, just as she'd expected. She would lead the others to the secondary egress. Peeking around the barrels with her goggles in place over her eyes, Kirsten saw three solders, all at different vectors blocking the path. Before any of them could react, she fired three short bursts, changing her angle each time. As soon as they were down, she ran toward the tunnel, picking off the soldiers emerging to challenge her. She was the first to reach the overhead vent, far enough from the assault that she thought she could get most of the teams out. Using the butt of her rifle, she raise the hatch and pushed it aside. The other team members joined her moments later, and she sent them up, including Ash.

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"Roan, where are you?" she asked when she didn't see him. When no answer came, she called mobile tactical. "Hunter, can you get a lock on Roan?" "Negative. His transponders aren't functioning." "How can that be?" she demanded in confusion. "Ulrick, get the teams out," Angelo commanded. "Forget Roan. He'll make it." Their transponders always functioned. It was practically impossible to damage them. How could his have just cut out? An edge of panic slipped under her usually calm demeanor. Suddenly she heard a gunshot, followed by a groan, Roan's voice, in her earpiece. He was alive. He'd been shot, but he was alive. Kirsten looked up to see Ash staring down at her from the outside. "Barnett, get the teams out. I'm going back for him." She didn't wait to see if he'd obey. She darted back the way they'd come. A moment later, someone grabbed her from behind. She struggled, but when he turned her, she saw it was Ash. "You're not going back, Ulrick. He can take care of himself," Ash said harshly. He had to have heard the gunshot and Roan's groan. "His transponders aren't functioning. He's been shot. He must have been captured." "There's nothing we can do. He can take care of himself." But without him ... can I take care of myself? "There's still time. Let me go. I can get him." Ash's eyes were intense, only a few inches from hers. "I'm not gonna let you go, Ulrick. You'll be captured, too. Either 123

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you come with me willingly or I'll carry you, kicking and screaming. Let's go." Without a trace of gentleness, he shoved her forward, back toward the vent. Even in the van, with the R.C.C. explosions behind them, her mind couldn't function. Roan, Team Leader/Mission Coordinator, Level 2 status, shot, captured. It was unthinkable. Roan was invincible. He always succeeded. He was a machine, the machine she'd tried to become for the past six years. Without him ... God, she'd been so trapped in her own fears, she hadn't been able to consider that, if he was captured, he'd be tortured beyond the limits of human endurance. Roan wouldn't break, though they'd try everything. And then they'd have to kill him if the Network didn't send in a rescue team to extract him or he didn't escape on his own. And that was what she'd kept expecting. To see Roan walk back into the compound as though nothing had happened. The Network had made every effort to save him—Kirsten had seen to that personally after she'd been cleared of wrongdoing, but they'd been unable to locate him. None of it had mattered. The other operatives had treated her differently, as though she hadn't done enough to help Roan. They'd talked about how she'd left a man she'd been sexually involved with for six years to his death. Jameson had always watched her. Any weakness would make her a target for him. Her ruthlessness had known no bounds from that point on. Behind her back, she'd heard them call her the terminator. They couldn't have known the truth, and she'd 124

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made no effort to explain it to them. Being a terminator was better than being a victim. She'd vowed eighteen years ago never to be a victim again. No, on the surface, no one could have faulted her logic, and even when Ash had debriefed and told everyone he hadn't allowed her to go back for Roan and they saw the grief she'd tried to hide, the accusations had stuck. "Can't fault her logic, but she's as cold as ice. Look out. Here comes the terminator." Kirsten swallowed as she set her glass on the kitchen counter. Ash was the only one who hadn't looked at her like she was a monster. Whether she wanted to or not, she'd responded to that bit of kindness. Keeping herself in check, her spine filled with steel, was never easy around him. Especially when he touched her, when he spoke to her in that tender tone, not the cold one he sometimes adopted. She shivered. Back to reality. Any sign of weakness brings out the vultures. Stay strong, she told herself. They had a job to do. If their neighbors had seen her stalk from the deck, inside, they could have seen that she was upset. She had to rectify the situation. Make it part of her cover. Before she went out, she checked the images from the video cameras. The perimeter was clean. Casey was cleaning up the dishes from the meal Raven had made. Raven was in a back room near their deck. She held a book, but it was clear she wasn't reading it. Her gaze kept going to the window. Has she been watching us? 125

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So Kris and Nathan Weston had had a small argument. Kris and Nathan were in love. They'd make up quickly. Kirsten let herself out through the patio door, closed it and went to the railing without looking at Ash. It wasn't hard to play the part of a woman who wasn't happy—both about the fight and the distance between her and her husband. Finding the steel center of herself was beyond her though. She couldn't breathe when she felt Ash slide up behind her, put his hand on the curve of her neck where her shoulder met it. "I'm sorry," he said softly, and Kirsten bit her lip to hold back a sob that surprised her. His tone was too much like the one he'd used when he'd whispered, "Give yourself to me. You're my love. My reason for breathing every minute." It was a mission, for crying out loud. A mission. He was only playing a role, putting on a performance, for Raven. It wasn't reality. God, I want to forget. Why can't I forget? Because I never wanted it to end. His hands tightened on her shoulders, and she heard him inhale sharply. Was this another role-playing between them? It had to be. She knew that, but she closed her eyes against the sting of moisture behind them when he gathered her hair, lifted it so he could put his mouth against the tiny hairs on the back of her neck—an exotic down that rose wildly at his nearness. Uncontrollably, Kirsten tipped her head forward to give him access, yet leaned her body back against his. No beginning, no ending. We're one. "No pain?" he whispered against her ear. 126

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She swallowed, shaking her head as his teeth captured her earlobe and his fingers snaked to the buttons of her blouse. Her nipples were hard, her breasts felt heavy, so unlike what she was used to, as his hands drew open the shirt and brushed against her skin. She found herself reaching for him, drawing his fingertips to the bare upper curves of her breasts. Even that wasn't enough. It was the same as before, when her only thoughts had been 'All I want is you to touch me, complete me, let me complete you'. She whirled into his arms, and his mouth devoured hers in a heartbeat. Her hands went to him of their own accord, stroking the steel behind his zipper, making him groan the way she'd longed for him to. His fingers eagerly drew out her nipples beneath the satin bra. She was ready when he lifted her, and her legs wrapped around his waist. Her head fell back as his tongue dipped into her cleavage, both gentle and arousing, as he explored her new curves. Touch me, Ash, the way only you can. The way no one else ever could. Her eyes burned when she looked at him, she cradled his head in her hands, and his eyes locked with hers. Without looking away, he shifted, wrapped his lips around her nipple thrusting shamelessly out of the mold of her bra. He tugged at her, tongued her, sucked and nibbled at her until she was so crazy she couldn't control the frantic movement of her hips against him. The last thing Kirsten wanted was to identify what was real and what was for an audience, not when his mouth touched 127

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hers again, and he whispered, "I want you, baby. Give yourself to me." "Take me in the house." His gaze was stolen from her for an instant before he complied. With the patio door closed behind them, Kirsten forced herself to bring both sides of her blouse back together. "What did you see?" she asked, her voice hoarse. "She was watching." Raven. Kirsten hadn't been imagining it when she'd thought Raven was more interested in what was outside the window than in her book. "Did she see you? Did she realize you saw her?" "I don't know. She pulled back too quickly to know." For a long moment, as Ash watched her button her blouse, he looked uncharacteristically uncomfortable. "Did you I hurt you?" "There's no pain," she said as coolly as she could. That was a lie, but the pain she felt had nothing to do with her recent surgery. He nodded, accepting her words. Kirsten spoke again, quiet, distant. "I'd ... I'd really like to get a workout in. Can you stand watch for about an hour?" The cold look she was beginning to hate came into his face. "No problem."

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Chapter 14 Raven Harris and her nine-year-old son Ripley had been on their deck the Saturday after the radio program aired and thus breached Network security, exposing Jameson's corruption. The husband had been at work, as usual. According to Raven's police report later, she hadn't slept at all the night before. She and her partner, Reb Porter, had been working most of the night. Her fatigue had gotten the best of her that morning. She'd fallen asleep while her son played in the backyard. She'd woken from the sound of 'metal hitting metal'. Ripley had been nowhere in sight. Her neighbor's son had been screaming from the front of the house. Later, ten-year-old Phillip Griepentrog had testified that the driver of the car 'had to be drunk'—he'd been going at least sixty miles per hour in a residential area, he'd stopped momentarily on impact, and when he'd realized what had happened, he'd taken off and didn't look back. Though Phillip couldn't say for certain that the driver was a man, it was clear his instincts led him to believe that was the case. He couldn't remember anything about the driver, outside of the fact that "he was a dark shadow". The car had been white. That was all. There'd been no other witnesses. Raven had come out the front of her house to find the broken body of her son melding with his twisted bicycle. He'd died on impact. The driver and the car were never identified. From that day, Raven had quit her job at the radio station, given up investigative journalism, given up her life. Ash was going over the file on the incident. 129

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Yet she seems to have no idea that her job had anything to do with the accident He glanced up from the PDA to the video monitors. Raven was in the living room, not moving, not sleeping, just sitting in the darkness. Casey had been working most of the evening, coming out to look in on his wife as though he wanted to say something but didn't have the courage or the right words. More than once, Ash had found himself thinking harshly of the man: She needs you, you stupid bastard. You know she needs you and you know you need her. Why are you such a coward? Why do you treat her like a frail stranger? She's your wife, for crying out loud. Ash grimaced. He'd warned Kirsten not to get involved, but here he was doing the same thing himself. A beep sounded from a secure terminal, and Ash glanced at Kirsten working out in the living room. Beyond her, through the patio doors, darkness had fallen. "Communiqué from Angelo," he called softly, and she got up and came into the room, dressed in Lycra soaked with sweat. Ash ran a decryption program on the few sentences. They confirmed Kirsten's earlier speculations. Terranzo had pulled out of his association with Jameson—his organization was in a shambles and Giles was on his own, but they were at no time to assume Jameson wasn't dangerous. He would have other sources to help him.

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"Good call," Ash said softly. He was annoyed when her chilly voice murmured, "It was the only logical reason he was waiting." She moved away to the living room window facing the Harris' house. Hell, maybe she really was the terminator she'd been dubbed as by the other operatives. Even knowing better, he'd found himself responding to Kirsten tonight, not to the role of a husband and wife making up after a small tiff. Yet she'd been emotionless when they came in the house. She'd been able to do something he couldn't have managed, damn her. After the Vegas mission six years ago, she'd been the same way. Her icy attitude had been the only thing to save him, too. Kirsten suddenly drew back from the window, turned the key on the ordnance cabinet, drew out a tranq gun and loaded it with a dart. She took another one, and a second later the perimeter alarm went off. What the hell... Ash stood, starting to speak, but she was out the front door too fast. He didn't have time to do anything but go out the back and work his way around. He saw Kirsten disappear stealthily around the front of the Harris' house. Keeping low despite the pitch black of the backyard, Ash reached the back corner and peered around. He was greeted by a low growl that lifted the hairs on the back of his neck. The dog they figured Jameson had taken from the compound—he knew before he saw it. The dog growled again, this time its intention to attack Kirsten clear. 131

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"I've got him, Ash," Kirsten said softly. "Don't shoot him. Step out all the way and whistle to it." Ash put his gun out in front of him as he came around the corner to see the massive German Shepherd, what looked like rags tied around its neck, baring his teeth as it prepared to lunge at her. Ash whistled to it, and it turned toward him. It began to run at him. A tiny 'pop' noise. Just before springing on him, it uttered a deflated whine and fell to the ground with a thud. A small yellow dart stuck in the back of its neck. "We've got to get it out of here before the Harris' look out. Grab an end," Kirsten ordered under her breath. Moving swiftly, they got the dog to the garage next door, and Kirsten went for a rope. Ash bent down and loosened the strips of ragged cloth from around the dog's neck. He untied them and spread them out. Both were ripped vertically from the shoulder to the hem. Network recruit tanktops. One read 'Ulrick', the other 'Barnett'. When Ash swore, Kirsten turned from tying the dog up in case it woke before someone from the organization could retrieve it. "Jameson knows we're in play," Ash said. "And he just wanted to let us know he knows." She grimaced. It didn't matter now. One way or another, they would have to protect the Harris'. That was what mattered. "I'll call it in."

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Chapter 15 Kirsten followed Casey into the Bethany Design underground parking lot at a discreet distance. She'd been here only once before, yet she felt oddly as though she'd been coming all her life. She'd passed the building more times than she could count. The Network compound wasn't far from the advertising offices. Grabbing her design case, she got out of the car, looking around the garage carefully. She sensed no danger as she followed Casey to the elevators that took them to the fourteenth floor. Putting on one of Kris Weston's friendly-ascould-be smiles required effort from her this morning. Casey's gaze was wary, his greeting polite but withdrawn. Giles Jameson's cockiness—in full display with the dog last night—was something all of the Network operatives expected. The man believed he was invincible, that he ruled the world and could command its rise or downfall with a snap of his fingers. But he never did anything in a conventional way. He always had to have his little twist, the last laugh, as he was no doubt enjoying his bit of humor of last night. Kirsten's jaw clenched when she remembered the soundproof room in the tower, the way he'd surveyed her helplessness with a satisfied grin on his face. God, how she'd wanted to throw her fist at his mouth and break every one of his gleaming white teeth. He can't possibly win this time, Kirsten reminded herself forcefully. She and Ash had downloaded and studied every file they could get their hands on last night, after Network people 133

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came to get the dog. They'd searched for anything that could connect all the variables in this scenario. Giles had been justified in going after Kyle Vincent and Elizabeth Sheppard. Even if he'd killed them instead of bringing them in, outside of reprimanding him for using extreme force when it wasn't needed, he would have faced very few repercussions for it. He might have even been justified in going after Raven Harris and Reb Porter in an attempt to get any damaging information they might have on the Network. However, when he'd gone after Shannon McKee, he'd thrown in his last card. He'd become a fugitive. The Network wouldn't stop until he was brought in or taken out. There was nowhere in the world he was safe. Raven and Reb could ID him, could have solid evidence on his corruption, and regular law enforcement had been alerted to provide another net aiding in his capture. Wherever he turned up, Network operatives would be on him. Sooner or later, they would find his safe house. But, Jameson being Jameson, he'd play out all the games he was permitted to before he met his end. Kirsten's thoughts churned as she thought about the man. What I wouldn't give to be the one to wipe that conceited smirk off his face for good. Slit his throat and watch him bleed to death. Poetic justice. The hunter becomes the hunted. The victim becomes the victor. The fourteenth floor was quiet as she and Casey stepped off the elevator. Very few other employees had come in today. Casey and Elliot had shared a large office designed 134

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specifically for them as top creative team in-house. They even had a key to the executive restrooms. As Casey went to his desk, Kirsten forced herself to put aside the anger she felt. She had a job to do. A role to play. She'd realized yesterday that drawing Casey out of his protective shell wasn't going to be easy. He had no desire to discuss anything with her outside of the job and the current ad campaign on their desks. She knew he was a man who hid everything inside. He hid from everyone, including the woman he'd promised to love, honor and cherish 'until death do us part'. It was Kirsten's job to make sure that death didn't come much sooner than it should. After opening her design case, she pulled out the posters she'd worked on the previous night, then took them to his desk. She set them down in front of him, saying, "I think these options might be worth considering." For a moment, he just stared at the top one as though in shock, then he reached down and pushed it aside to look at the second and third one. He didn't need to say a word. She could tell he was impressed. "You did all these last night?" She nodded. "The wording needs refining—" "Copywriting can worry about that. We can work with these." He looked at them again, murmuring almost as though he didn't realize he was speaking out loud, "I understand why Barb hired you." Kirsten's personal satisfaction rose at the compliment, but she swallowed at the memory of a young girl, an artist, who had won an ad campaign against smoking pot while in middle school. That young girl had died, become the person she was 135

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meant to be in the Network. She was no longer the girl who'd been handed a death sentence by her own parents. She and Casey got to work on the ad campaign, and several hours passed before Kirsten realized she needed both coffee and food. Casey went to get them sandwiches from the machine in the break room, and she made a pot of coffee in their office. They ate, both silent as they evaluated the work they'd done. "Is your husband really a writer? Though Raven and I have met our share of journalists, we've never known a novelist," Casey said, surprising her because she wouldn't have expected him to ask her anything personal about her life. He'd surprised her enough when he'd actually taken off his suit jacket and loosened his tie slightly. While Kirsten had never been attracted to uptight men, she'd noticed the first time they met that he was extremely attractive. Even sexy. He'd looked at her more than once, too, in pure male approval, and had looked away each time as though he was damning himself for looking at a beautiful woman who wasn't his wife. Being a beautiful women was a role Kirsten could play, but in her real life she knew she wasn't the type of woman most men found attractive. She hoped Casey didn't cheat on his wife, but she couldn't deny that some of the couples' behavior fit that scenario. In her line of work, she's seen some of the worst in people. Didn't matter if they were normally withdrawn or kind to children' or spouse. When it came to sex, few people matched their basic personalities. She didn't 136

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want Casey to look at her in any ways other than business and friendship. "I guess that would depend on your definition of what makes for success or satisfaction in the art. And then—what defines a writer? Some people only consider writers people who've finished a full manuscript, or maybe had one published. Others consider anyone who can put words on paper a writer." Casey's strange, crystal-gray eyes lifted to her, but still seemed to keep her outside his internal guards. "Is he getting somewhere as a writer by your own definitions?" "Yes." "Any good?" "Wonderful ... but he's such a perfectionist, and subject to his own moods far too much that I wonder if he'll ever finish a single book." Kirsten got up to pour them both a cup of the fresh coffee. "Was your wife a good journalist?" she asked, carefully casual. She heard the wariness enter his tone instantly when he demanded, "How did you know my wife was a journalist?" "Nathan said she mentioned it to him yesterday. He fixed the water or something." She set one of the mugs on his desk. "Yesterday?" he asked, his eyes narrowed in a clearly volatile emotion. Kirsten was well aware that Raven and Casey hadn't spoken more than a dozen too-damn-polite words to each 137

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other last night and this morning. Raven hadn't said a word about Ash's visit. "Didn't she tell you Nate came over yesterday afternoon because the mailman delivered some of Elliot's mail to our house? Apparently the city was working and had shut off the water for awhile, just when Raven was going to shower. They didn't realize that until later, of course, but Nate went in and checked to see if he could find anything wrong with your water." For the first time, Casey's defenses were completely down. Before her very eyes, he was being eaten alive by his own jealousy. "No. No, she didn't mention it," he muttered through clenched teeth. Kirsten's mind whirled at the possibilities he'd presented. Was he jealous that another man could be interested in his wife? Or did he believe his wife was interested in another man? Did this bode well of his feelings for his wife, or did it create more problems for the couple? Should she add more fuel to the fire, just to see what happened? Kirsten laughed as though it was no big deal at all. "Well, my husband is the friendliest person in the world. And he'll look for any excuse to get out of writing sometimes. If that means smoozing with the new neighbor, he'll do it." Casey dragged his gaze up off the floor, where he was apparently trying to burn a hole in the carpet, to her face. "And that doesn't bother you?" "Why would it?" Kirsten swallowed when he swiveled his chair toward his desk, made some succinct comment about getting back to 138

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work. But it was obvious his overactive mind wouldn't allow it. Not fifteen minutes later, he stood, shoved some of what they'd done today into his artwork case with a lot less carefulness than he'd displayed the day before, and muttered something about doing more work at home. She could keep working or not work. Whatever. As Kirsten shoved work into her own case, turned off the coffeepot and flew after him, she knew exactly why Casey had decided to go home. He was afraid Ash was with his wife again. The man made no sense at all. Casey had barely said two words to his wife that morning before leaving for work. They'd mumbled a few sentences of conversation at each other the night before. While Casey had shown great concern for his wife, even distress over her grief, why would it bother him so terribly to have another man—a married man—talk to his wife? Could he not bear the thought of losing her? Had she given him a reason to be jealous? Kirsten stayed on Casey all the way home, and he didn't seem to even notice her behind him. Just as she was getting onto Kingery Highway, she realized she should warn Ash. She dialed his cell phone. "Casey's on his way home," she told him when he answered. "Where are you?" "Where do you think?" he asked vaguely, friendly. He'd had every intention of getting into Raven's house again today to search for evidence. He was with Raven right then.

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Kirsten's mind worked quickly. Maybe she'd been wrong to pour fuel on an already flammable situation. Damn. How could she rectify this? "Maybe you could draw me a bath. I could use one." If Casey started to be jealous of Ash, then that would prevent her and Ash from infiltrating their lives. It would be harder to protect them if Casey forced an un-neighborly separation. "Anything wrong?" Ash asked in a neutral tone. "Just that Casey seems insanely jealous of the thought of you with his wife." "That's a little unwarranted, isn't it?" "Maybe so, but I think seeing you with her is not going to be good for us. Draw me a bath. Quickly. We'll be there soon."

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Chapter 16 For the first time in the years he'd been working for the Network, Ash disagreed with Kirsten's assessment of a situation. He had little time to make a decision, but he went with his gut instincts. She believed introducing a threat into Raven and Casey Harris' relationship would be the needle that broke the camel's back. Ash believed the couple needed a little dynamite, in a controlled setting, to shake them up. He closed his satellite phone and returned it to his belt. "Was that your wife?" Raven asked him, on the other side of the patio table on her deck. "No. Just something about the house. Nothing serious. Where was I?" "You were saying that after you were injured in combat..." Ash nodded. "Yeah, well, I went back home and they told me that, for all intents and purposes, my military career was over. My pop didn't care about anything except that I followed in his footsteps in the military. My honorable discharge was his greatest shame." "You don't look like you've been injured." "It's taken a lot of years to get to this point. My old man didn't want anything to do with me. I didn't want anything to do with myself. My wife ... my first wife ... had never liked my career because I was never home. I was never there for her ... or our daughter. Amanda filed for divorce even though I'd been discharged from the military. Apparently she'd had enough and she didn't want to put up with a cripple." 141

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"What about your daughter?" Raven asked, her voice gentle with sympathy. "She was still young. I'd never been much of a father to her, but she was my only child. Leaving her ... that was the hardest part for me." A car door slammed from on the street in front of them. Raven frowned when she heard it, her head turning immediately at the sound. "That sounded like Casey's car." Ash went to the railing and looked out to see Kirsten getting out of her car. "Both of our spouses, actually," Ash said as Raven joined him. A moment later, Kirsten strode toward them, saying in a friendly yet sharp tone, "I thought I'd find you out here." No, Kirsten wasn't someone who liked to be thwarted. Raven's wariness came back and she withdrew as abruptly as she'd come out of her shell. He'd only gotten her to join him outside because he'd started talking about his book, saying it was based on true events in his military career. For some reason, his writing interested her, quite possibly because she unconsciously missed her own writing. The strangest part of the whole thing, though, was that Raven had put on make-up and dressed as though she was expecting company that day. Since she'd refused invitations from both her mother and brother today, Ash had to assume she'd done it for him. He couldn't imagine for what reason. And he didn't really want to go there if Raven was attracted to him. She'd watched him and Kristen making out on the deck yesterday, pulling back only when she'd almost been caught. 142

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"Casey with you?" Ash asked Kirsten casually. "Too nice of a day to work, I guess." Casey all but burst out the patio door. From the look on his face, Ash was certain he'd just torn through the interior of the house, going from room to room, to find his wife, all the while not expecting her to be alone. Good God, Kirsten wasn't kidding about the man's jealousy. He was flying apart like a claymore mine. His gaze pinned Ash to the floor until Ash moved down to Kirsten, wrapped her in his arms, and kissed her hello. "Glad you came home early, baby." Kirsten smiled tightly, glancing toward Raven and Casey. Raven was flushed and flustered, no longer looking at any of them. Casey did everything short of deflating. His embarrassment at having come racing home like a bat out of hell, intent on catching his wife with Ash, crept into his expression like an accusation between all of them. Ash—Nathan—gave Kirsten a little shake. "Let me run you a bubble bath, Kris." "Mhm, sounds like heaven right now. See you two later." They walked to their deck, glancing back at Raven and Casey. Raven was already fleeing into the house. "What the hell are you doing?" Kirsten demanded the second he closed the patio door behind them. "Didn't I tell you it wasn't a good idea to be out there with her when Casey got home? Why did you stay?" "Gut instinct," Ash said calmly. "They needed this." 143

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"Yeah, I guess we're gonna find out whether or not they did." "She opened up to me a little. The closer we are to them, the easier it'll be to keep them safe." Kirsten ran frustrated fingers through her hair as she stood before the monitors. For a few minutes, she just watched. "It doesn't make sense. How jealous he was. Unless she's had an affair, or he's possessive of a woman he doesn't even sleep with anymore," she said in a troubled voice. When Ash came up in back of her, close but not too close, he saw both Raven and Casey inside the house. They'd retreated to separate rooms, but both of them looked upset. Kirsten wrapped her arms around her breasts, her breathing harsh with her own upset. Gently, Ash put his hands on her shoulders, kneading them slightly. It took all his effort not to draw her back against him, to hold her. She swallowed with difficulty, her face carefully masked when she looked up at him. "So what did you two talk about?" "I told her I was injured in the military, discharged, to the disgrace of my father, and, though getting me home all the time was what my first wife wanted, she filed for divorce anyway. I lost my daughter." Kirsten turned toward him. His lowered his hands. He knew she was frowning slightly because he'd gone slightly offprofile. His cover accounted for a previous divorce, a military career, and marriage to Kris for the past five years. The story he'd told Raven was impressive. It fleshed out the scenario 144

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with legitimacy. As an operative, adopting part of the truth was the best way to keep a cover solid. "That's why she was opening up," she said softly. "You lost a daughter. She lost a son." Ash nodded, avoiding her eyes. "Anything else?" she asked, as though she sensed it. His jaw tightened. "Did you notice anything about her today?" Kirsten shook her head. "When ... Just now?" "Anything about her appearance?" A second later, Kirsten said in amazement, "She was wearing make-up. Dressed like she might go out." Ash nodded. "She had two calls today. One from her mother, inviting her to go shopping, and the other from her brother, who was planning to visit her at home before she refused him." Kirsten's blue eyes narrowed. "She fixed herself up for you. God, Ash, you didn't do anything yesterday to make her..." "Outside of neighborly friendliness ... and all but making love to my wife on the deck last night, no. I didn't do a damn thing to encourage it. I'd venture a guess that she's a woman who's been lacking male compassion and attention for six years." "And you're too damn attractive and charming for your own good," Kirsten muttered like a curse, turning away from him. Ash slid his tongue in his cheek. "That mean you're getting used to the new me?" 145

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She didn't even bother to look at him. "I don't think it's possible for a woman to 'get used' to you." "What does that mean?" Her gaze rose, flickering over him almost as if he annoyed her, then she looked away again. "Getting used to you implies a level of comfort you definitely don't inspire." "You don't exactly inspire me to comfort either, Ulrick." Though he turned away, he knew she'd looked at him in surprise. Instead of talking about it, she demanded, "Did Angelo get in touch?" "Yeah. They found something." "What?" "Jameson's transponders. Apparently he'd given them to the dog a few hours before. Made the dog swallow them with his kibble. They found them when he excreted them." Two transponder chips were implanted inside each new recruit and activated as soon as they awoke from the surgery. One of the transponders was a local clearance chip that allowed an operative to come and go from the compound without setting off internal alarms. It couldn't be faked. Without the local implant, security alarms would go off for an unauthorized entrance. The second chip was a global tracking device. It could track an operative to within three feet anywhere in the world. No wonder she hadn't been able to get a lock on Jameson's location days ago. He'd been off the board. Jameson had somehow removed his transponders, shielded them until the moment he needed them, and, always needing to have the 146

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last laugh, had given them to the dog to eat and shit them out. And now he was conveniently isolated from their sensors.

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Chapter 17 "You didn't tell me he was here yesterday." Kirsten heard Casey's words, and her gaze shifted from monitor to monitor until she found the couple in the kitchen together. "Who?" Raven asked, without looking at him as she poured herself a cup of coffee. "Our new neighbor." Casey's voice was bitter around the name "Nate Weston." Raven sighed, effectively betraying the reason she hadn't told him about Nate's visit earlier. She hadn't wanted to face her husband's insane jealousy. "I was going to take a shower, but when I turned on the taps, nothing happened. He showed up with Elliot's mail. I didn't want to bother you at work, so I asked him if he could look at it." "He was here again today." Raven stood with her back against the counter, her face straight ahead, her gaze as far from him as she could get it. "We were just talking," she murmured evenly. Casey snorted in disbelief. "You don't 'just talk' to anybody, Raven. You don't even talk to your family, other than to tell them you're fine and you don't want to leave the house. Why him?" Raven looked down into her coffee mug. Her tone was so soft, Kirsten reached to modulate the volume. "You're making something out of nothing, as usual. I don't want to talk about this." 148

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"Do you ... Are you..." Casey started in fury and ended in uncertainty, enough to make Raven face him for the first time the entire conversation. Wearily, she demanded, "Am I what?" Though he continued to scrutinize her as if she'd surrender what he wanted that way, he seemed unable to speak now. Finally, allowing her to win, he pivoted away and went to the fridge. "I'm going to take a shower." "I was going to make dinner." Raven's voice quavered uncontrollably when she whispered, "I'm not hungry," and fled the room. She didn't give him the satisfaction of seeing the tears she couldn't stop, but Kirsten saw them as she rushed up the staircase. In the kitchen, Casey slammed the fridge door, swearing violently as he did so. A vase on the top of the appliance trembled and then fell the floor. Casey flinched at the crash, but he made no move to clean the glass up. He leaned over the counter with his head in his hands, growling his frustration like an animal thwarted in a chase. Upstairs, Raven blasted the master bedroom door closed behind her, putting her back to it with her arms around herself. She asked the room, "You don't want me, so why do you care, damn you?" She slid down the wall and put her face in her hands. Kirsten became acutely aware of the lump the size of a baseball in her throat. She heard Ash behind her, working out in the living room. Glancing at him, she saw his efforts had his full concentration as usual. He wasn't paying attention to 149

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surveillance at the moment, trusting her to handle it on her own. Taking a deep breath, Kirsten forced herself to move away from the monitors. She slipped the mobile earpiece securely around the shell of her ear, then went to the kitchen to get a bottle of water. She got one for Ash as well. God, she wanted a break. A mental break from the pain of looking into the lives of two people hurting so much, and so unwilling to drag themselves out of that place of torture. Ash was saturated in sweat when she entered the living room and set down a bottle next to him. He thanked her, still breathing heavily. Kirsten sat on the floor with her back against the sofa. Why did she want to be near him now? Why did she want him to say something ... ah hell, to make her feel like love wasn't an illusion, an impossibility, temporary? Sitting up, he grabbed the water, and she watched him gulp it, his breath coming more rapidly when he lowered it. He grabbed a towel and swiped it across his forehead. Kirsten put her arms straight over her knees, leaning her head over her open thighs. Losing a child could not only change a person's life, it could destroy it. It could kill your soul so you didn't care about living. Move you into a dark existence all about dying, a place where there was no logic. Life came down to basic survival— anger—when you saw the injustice of the world in black and white. Righting wrongs ... Then you saw color. Blood red. Blackness rushed in as total as a rip in the universe. But every time, in the aftermath of what you'd done to even the score, there was realization over and over that you fought 150

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with a demon who couldn't lose. And you couldn't win. You were soulless and absolutely nothing mattered. Ash's hand lifted her chin. His eyebrows were drawn together in worry and confusion. "What is it, Kirsten?" She shook her head. If she spoke now, she'd let out the scream that'd been trapped inside her since they'd taken that tiny, lifeless body out of her sight. It's not the same. God, it's not the same ... but I know what it's like to lose a child and feel so damn much guilt it swallows you whole. Lose a child and know, purposely or inadvertently, you caused your own child's death. Ash moved closer to her, drew her willingly forward into the vee of his legs, then his hands cradled her face to get her to look at him. Kirsten swallowed the terror she felt at the gentleness of his eyes. Not the same. Not the same at all. "Did you ... did you really lose a daughter, Ash?" Asking him was unfair. Forbidden. When a person joined the Network, they made the decision to have any trace of their old life wiped out. They were required to become emotionally dead to that life. To those who'd known them before, they'd become physically dead. Ash nodded, his intense eyes showing a pain she wasn't sure she wanted to see, but right now it soothed the raging inside herself. "In the divorce. I didn't know her. I was always gone. I wasn't even there when she was born." Kirsten leaned forward until her forehead touched his, and he held her against him tightly. "Did ... Do you..." No, she couldn't ask him that. She couldn't ask him if he was 151

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devastated by that loss, if he regretted the things he'd done. Things he hadn't done. Whether he missed his little girl. What she assumed was his only child. "I don't let myself think about that anymore, Kirsten. Just like you probably don't let yourself think about your other life. I'm not the same person." No, she wasn't the person she'd been then. She wasn't the stupid daughter who'd been devastated at the fear of disappointing her parents, and so had gone along with something that had stolen her very soul. "I've always been a warrior. I was never a father to her. She has a father now. One who's good to her." Kirsten raised her head to look at Ash in surprise, but he turned away from her and picked up his water bottle. Ash ... dear God! Ash had used Network resources to check up on his little girl. It was beyond dangerous. An operative who didn't have clearance could be terminated for even being in the vicinity of the Black File consoles. She'd had it drilled into her over and over in the past thirteen years. You never re-visited your past. Never. Doing so was grounds for cancellation. Ash glanced back at her, stroking her cheek with his large hand, and she knew he was asking her if she was all right. She nodded, and he pushed himself up and away, saying he was going to shower. It'd been wrong for him to re-visit his past. But Kirsten couldn't help feeling bittersweet gratitude and relief that he'd loved his daughter enough to make sure she was well taken care of. Even if she'd wanted it more than she'd ever wanted 152

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anything, it was an option she'd never had.

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Chapter 18 In Ash's absence, Kirsten reluctantly moved back to the listening post. She didn't want to see any more, but she had no choice. This was her job. Raven was still in the bedroom, undressing normally as though there weren't tears washing down her cheeks in a flood. Kirsten's gaze went in search of Casey again, going first to the kitchen. The broken vase was still on the Mexican tile, but he wasn't there. She checked each room downstairs. He was nowhere to be found. His car was still in the garage. Finally, she found him in the last place she expected to find him. He was standing right outside the master bedroom, leaning against the door frame as though trying to talk himself out of going in. Kirsten's gut instincts warned her there was danger in his stance. She knew that look and that position. Casey Harris was the picture of a hunter, poised for the kill. All too well, she knew about men losing control of a situation, even when they willed themselves to stay away. Her mind reeled through all she'd read about this couple. No, there'd been absolutely no indication of Casey being an abusive husband, nor that Raven was an abused wife. But there was evidence of that in their emotional withdrawal from each other. Abuse could be why their marriage was in ruins. Raven could avoid life, too afraid to leave her husband, because he'd threatened to find her and kill her wherever she went. 154

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Would she have stood up to him the way she had in the kitchen if she knew from bitter experience he'd make her pay for her sudden courage? If she thought he might come after her, why hadn't she locked the bedroom door to protect herself? Most battered women hated their lives, but they had a basic instinct toward survival at any cost. It was the only thing that kept them going despite their pain. Something was going to happen. Kirsten knew it with every fiber of her being. And what the hell could she do to prevent it that wouldn't break their cover? Her hand went subconsciously to her shoulder holster. Before she withdrew her gun, her mind warned her she couldn't do what she'd done in the past to men who treated their wives like punching bags. She couldn't give Casey a fatal dose of his own medicine. For an instant, Kirsten thought he might re-think his decision. He might go back downstairs and forget revenge. He'd reached the top step before he changed his mind and charged into the bedroom. Kirsten stopped breathing as she frantically located Raven, in the locker-room style shower, her tears concealed under the hot spray. Casey stood in the doorway, looking at his wife's bare back. The shower was unusually large, taking up half the room in red tile and floor drains. There was no door or curtain to block his view. Kirsten's jaw clenched and she gulped air when her body's own fighting instincts kicked in. Casey continued to watch Raven for long moments, his gaze one of utter fury. She 155

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either didn't feel his presence or was too overwhelmed with her own grief to notice she was no longer alone. Kirsten wanted to scream a warning but could do nothing but watch. Her throat felt strangled when Casey reached for his belt. "If you hurt her..." Kirsten whispered under her breath. She was sweating, trembling, coiled to leave this chair, this house, to protect Raven Harris at all cost—even against her husband, if she had to. Instead of moving forward with the belt, Casey threw it behind him. Kirsten's mind had trouble registering what was happening as he undressed, but when his intentions became clear she wondered if Casey would rape his wife. Was that what this was about? The look on his face wasn't fury now, if it ever was. It was intense, violent, but Kirsten recognized it for what it was now: Lust. Insane, uncontrollable, vehement lust. His erection was just as fierce as his expression. Kirsten pressed her fist against her mouth hard enough to draw blood as Casey walked toward his wife. Raven's face was toward the wall, closed in emotional agony. He stopped just before reaching her, but he'd gone too far to turn back now. Kirsten saw his decision as he stepped forward and touched Raven's back gently. His wife's shock was as visceral as the gasp she let out, sending chills down Kirsten's back. For a heartbeat, Raven's surprise was almost comical. She hadn't expected Casey to come to her, not at all. But then her husband's hands slid around her, snaked up to cradle her surprisingly full breasts, and then Raven's eyes 156

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closed again as her face lifted and she gave herself to him with a low, trembling sob. A whimper of need. Casey rubbed her nipples, and Raven wept in immediate, overwhelming ecstasy. Her hips began to move in a slow, grinding circle against his arousal. His groan was so agonized, both of them were panting in seconds. Kirsten's terror switched gears just as abruptly as the Harris' emotions had, and she was thrust into a memory she'd buried as far as a person could bury something that had shattered their lives. Just like then, she couldn't deal with the broken pieces.

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Chapter 19 "Full commendations, time off, and pay increase beginning immediately," Angelo said, and Jameson regarded them both with coldness as he dismissed them. Kirsten left the debriefing, her face a mask as she and Ash separated as soon as they stepped out of the perch elevator. The emotions inside her were at a boil when she slammed open the door of the locker room. The room was deserted, but at the moment that was little comfort. She almost wished she could have gone out on the op that had left ten minutes ago. Anything to avoid ... Anything to forget the feel of Ash's arms around her in the darkness, his chest against her back, his breathing soft and sweet in her ear before he'd whispered, "Are you asleep?" "No." She was aware they were being watched both by Halstead and the Network in the Vegas hotel room. Everything they said and did here would be under scrutiny later. Their roles as a couple that sold arms to terrorist groups had been carefully constructed for the owner, Robbie Halstead, of several large casinos in Las Vegas. All were fronts to launder money he'd gained from some of the dirtiest international crimes imaginable. The man had one weakness, however. He read romance novels. He was rumored to be a gentleman of epic proportions, one actively looking for his Miss Right, and settling for nothing less. Halstead was the most unimaginable character Kirsten could fathom—in theory. Once she'd met him, suddenly his 158

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contradictory personality seemed to make perfect sense. So it had been even more important that she and Ash play the role of monogamous lovers hopelessly in love. If he didn't believe them, he would do everything in his power to destroy them, and they would lose their window to bring him down. This first night would be pivotal in convincing him they were legitimate. "Talk to me," Ash whispered. Kirsten laughed slightly. "What do you mean?" "I mean, talk to me. I love listening to your voice, all hushed and husky and sexy in the darkness and silence." "You do?" "I fell in love with your voice the day we met at the firing range." Kirsten was surprised because he'd used a truth. It was important that they mirrored reality as much as possible, yet she couldn't help wondering if he had heard her voice the day they met at the firing range in the Network. She'd been a fairly new recruit. "How could you hear my voice over all that noise?" Ash laughed softly, his mouth against her ear. "How could I not? You were screaming because I had the nerve to tell you your aim was off by a fraction." She had screamed about that—screamed it at Angelo. Had Ash been listening to them? "I knew." He drew her back until she turned her to face him. "Knew from that moment..."

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"Knew what?" Kirsten asked, her throat clenched in fear of his reply. It was difficult for her to remind herself this was part of the mission. "That I'd never forget you. That I'd never get you out of my system." Angelo had told her that day at the range, when she'd first noticed Ash, that Ash wasn't a new recruit. He'd been in the Network for two years, recovering from a military accident that had robbed him of the ability to walk. Yet he'd been standing there at the firing range, looking like he'd been walking from the cradle. She never forget how cocky and selfconfident he'd looked. She hadn't met a man before or since who was more justified to feel that way. Not even Roan. In the bed, Ash's eyes has been vulnerable and loving, sparkling in the darkness. She reminded herself again that this was just a role. Just acting. Yet she'd never wanted a man to kiss her more in her entire life. Mission parameters had specified they were to simulate realistic lovemaking. Only if it was required of them to secure their cover could they actually make love. Before the mission had begun, she'd considered that a good safety structure. Now... She'd worn a thin, silky nightgown. He'd come to bed completely nude. With her body pressed to his, she could feel every hard line of him. She was in a situation she'd never been in before. Getting involved with a man was beyond her. She hadn't been involved with her husband emotionally at any point, nor with Roan Emory. And she'd promised herself after Roan's death that she'd never get involved with another man, inside or 160

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outside the Network. She would take care of herself. Getting involved meant getting vulnerable, as Angelo had told her so many times. She couldn't allow herself to be vulnerable, especially when it came to her private emotions. Yet the instant Ash's full, firm lips—lips she'd thought harsh, unyielding, anything but soft—touched hers, she was lost. She was involved. And, for the next two weeks, as they worked the op and went to bed together every night, simulating lovemaking that she knew even from her own standards had crossed the line, she looked forward to the nights hopelessly. She'd known the skill of a lover with Roan. Roan had coaxed her body to responses she couldn't have imagined she could feel from previous, horrific experiences, and he'd done it easily. But he'd also done it with a consummation that made her afraid whenever he left her. Ash made her feel loved, cherished, even worshipped, and her responses weren't simulated in the least. From the moment they entered their hotel suite, her arousal built each night. Even simulated, his hot, deep, wet kisses combined with his hands on her breasts, making them burn for his mouth, and his body rocking against her in the classic rocking movements of lovemaking, had brought her to fulfillment upon fulfillment. The look of supreme male satisfaction as he watched her passion was either flawless acting or real. Perhaps both. He had to know what they did was real for her, and she couldn't logic away the fact that he took his pleasure outside her body each time as well. She couldn't convince herself he didn't want to take her all the way, instead of simply in appearance. 161

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They'd done their jobs, not going outside mission parameters, but it wasn't only the simulated lovemaking that left her vulnerable. He didn't leave bed the second the act was completed, the way Roan always had in search of something to put his renewed energies to work. Ash held her like he didn't want to let her go, like she wasn't just a convenience for him he'd finished with for the time being. He spoke to her in the darkness, he made her love him in his sweet words of commitment. All the while, she'd had to stay in her role. She couldn't ask him if the things he said were true. By the time the mission was over, she half-believed they were. It wasn't until the debriefing, seeing the calm, collected, cold expression on his face as he summed up so unemotionally what they'd done to capture Halstead, that she knew the mission had been just another op for Ash. None of it meant anything personal to him. He'd been on countless other undercover missions, with countless other female operatives. Why should she be special to him? No reason. Instead of being angry at him for hurting her, she was angry for letting herself feel something. He was doing his job, the way he was supposed to do it. Better than anyone could anticipate. What the hell was wrong with her, she thought as she ripped her clothes off in the deserted locker room, then stalked into the showers. Once there, she'd been flooded with the scent of Ash all around her. She could almost feel him again when she closed her eyes, and she was helpless again to the sound of his voice in the darkness beside her. The pressure of his sensual 162

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mouth, devouring hers. The way he'd whispered, "Ah, baby, that's right. That's good. Give yourself to me. You're my life. My reason for breathing every minute." Tears battered against her eyelids as she fought them with the same intensity she fought on each mission. There was no comparison between Roan and Ash, even if Ash had just been doing his job. She'd given Roan sex. He'd given her protection. She'd given Ash her heart, the heart she'd thought she'd buried when she entered the Network. It wasn't his fault she'd become involved and vulnerable. Not his fault at all. "Give yourself to me. You're my love. My reason for breathing every minute." God, I don't want to feel. I want to be a machine. Anything else but this weakness. It's over. It's all over. Oh God, what am I going to do? Her instincts rose, and she stood up straight under the shower. She wasn't alone. Ash was behind her. Just standing there. She could feel him like a missile ripping through her. Shocked, she refused to let herself turn around. She couldn't face him right now. He'd know it hadn't just been an op to her. She'd stopped breathing, but her choppy exhale when he closed in made her feel dizzy. Ash was here. He was coming closer... His arms slid around her, easing her back to him. He didn't speak as his mouth went to her ear, and she heard his ragged, agonizing breathing. At this moment, her fear centered completely upon hearing a word from him. She 163

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couldn't take this. Hearing him say anything right now would be worse than hearing him say, "It wasn't just simulated. You're my reason for breathing every minute." Her gasp was swallowed when he turned her to him, and she saw his intense eyes. Then his mouth was taking her the way she'd believed would never happen again. The desire was immediate, overwhelming, life or death... Kirsten's memories dissolved as Raven and Casey groaned and wept in unison. Raven held herself with her arms against the tile wall, arching toward Casey each time he drove into her. The co-mingled cries were so intense, Kirsten realized tears were falling down from her eyes, just the way they had when Ash walked away from her. Her memories had come over her and blocked all else. Ash was behind her again, he was watching this, making the same connection she had with what she was seeing and what had happened between her and Ash six years ago. Her body was alive with angry arousal, and her heart shattered at the sobs of fulfillment coming from next door, so like those they'd uttered in that shower stall. Facing each other, yes, but Ash had only opened his eyes the moment he finally took release inside her body. The look in those eyes was voracious, devastated. Something had made her believe he was thinking, 'I knew. I knew it wouldn't save me'. And then he'd disappeared. He'd walked away while her body had still been throbbing with the most intense reaction she'd ever experienced in her life. He was gone. Shortly afterward, she'd heard from Angelo that Ash had requested another deep cover op instead of taking his time off. She 164

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hadn't had to face him for months. It should have been a relief, but somehow that had been even more of a betrayal. He'd made her face her own weaknesses. By the time he'd returned, her heart had been encased in ice. His gaze when it'd met hers for the first time after so long had been confused for only a second, then defiantly cold in response, as though she meant no more to him than any other operative ... or an enemy. She'd wanted to hate him, but hate implied an emotion, and she couldn't admit to any more emotions, especially for him. She'd told herself she'd felt nothing for him one way or another, but sitting here watching Casey draw back from his wife, his body limp and spent, watching him turn away as if he was ashamed of the need that had driven him to his wife this night—a wife he ignored and withdrew even his emotions from ... watching him flee like a criminal just like Ash had, Kirsten was angry. She felt as used as she knew Raven had to feel as she collapsed to the floor and huddled under the shower spray with her head in her arms. When Kirsten turned, not caring about her tell-tale tears, she was surprised to see Ash wasn't looking at the monitors. He was looking at her, and he was remembering. She knew without a doubt he was remembering their over-the-top deep cover op, the shameful coupling that had come afterward, and the way he'd walked out before it'd been completely finished. Suddenly she couldn't speak to save her life, not even to scream at him the way she'd wanted to for six long years. 165

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Scream at him and demand answers that she already knew he couldn't give and she couldn't ask for without losing her own mind. Focus on the mission. Nothing else mattered. Not even love.

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Chapter 20 Ash swore when he shifted, bumped the full cup, and hot coffee splashed on him. He had an urge to sweep the whole mess onto the floor and give into his frustration. Hell, he was as out-of-sorts today as Kirsten had been before she left for work. She'd refused to look at him, and, when she'd spoken, she'd used that ... Ash growled ... that terminator tone of hers. The clipped one that could freeze ice on the sun. The last thing he wanted to think about was his one failure as a Network operative—a failure involving Kirsten, one of the few operatives who'd fully become the machine she'd been trained to be ... or so most people believed. Before he'd left on the Las Vegas deep mission, some of the other male operatives had been teasing him about whether or not he could 'fell the terminator'. He'd never expected to do it. All truth told, he'd never wanted to, either. And he'd damned well never thought she could do the same to him. She'd snared him just as firmly as if she'd put a collar around his neck. But his aversion to captivity had never stopped him from responding to every look and movement she made. Regardless of what everyone else believed, he knew best that Kirsten had feelings. She had vulnerabilities and weaknesses just like everyone else. And he knew she'd experienced the kind of pain most people folded under. People had hurt her, before she joined the Network and after. He wasn't foolish enough to believe the organization was perfect. Despite the high ideas it claimed, there was 167

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corruption in the ranks. There were monsters who enjoyed giving other people misery. It hadn't been Kirsten's choice to be Roan Emory's lover. Ash sensed that all along, but he had no specifics to back up his gut feeling. The worst of it was that he'd hurt her by letting himself become involved in what was supposed to be a simple mission six years ago. From her point of view, it had to look like he'd strung her along until they were both caught in a web of lies and thwarted desire. His condemning thoughts were interrupted by a warning beep from the listening post. Ash ran around and saw that the perimeter alarm was going off. He raced out the patio door. The first thing he saw was Raven, outside on the deck, leaning against the railing facing the Griepentrogs' house. It was obvious she'd come out hoping he'd be there or would join her. Confused, Ash looked around. Someone had set off the alarm, but it wasn't Raven. That was when he saw the city worker walking along the side of the house to check the water meter. "Mornin'," the man said to them. Raven responded to the greeting. Ash didn't. He watched as the city worker held a reader up to the sensor on the side of the house. When he put his hand in his overalls, Ash reached for his gun under his sweater. Taking out a pen, the man jotted something down on his clipboard. Before he walked away, he wished them a good day. Ash watched the man until he disappeared around the opposite of the Griepentrogs' house to read their meter. 168

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All of Ash's instincts told him that the city worker was legitimate. There was no danger here, but Raven had to be wondering what had sent him bursting out the patio doors, looking around wildly before he'd seen the water meter guy. Damn good thing he hadn't pulled his gun, or she'd really be wondering what was going on. Ash calmed the adrenaline coursing through him. When he offered Raven a casual wave, she asked him without further ado if he'd like to come over and have iced tea with her. She'd put on make-up and dressed for him again. The image of Raven and her husband in the master bathroom of their house last night came to Ash unwillingly. While he'd seen a lot worse, a lot dirtier, he couldn't stop the memory of how her husband had taken her from replaying itself in his mind as he walked across the lawn to her. His intense discomfort was all about another memory, a memory just like the situation Casey and Raven Harris had been in last night. He'd done the same thing to Kirsten once. He'd used her because he couldn't control himself. And he'd carried around sick shame about it ever since. What must it have been like to be the used instead of the user? No wonder Kirsten was still pissed off at him for it. Ash followed Raven into her house. He couldn't help noticing she was still a beautiful woman in the form-fitting, flowered dress. Had Casey's jealousy allowed him to see that last night, too? Though she was pale and thinner than was healthy, she still had a willowy shape, full, firm breasts, and a face that could stop a man breathing, with all that thick red hair flowing around it. This morning, she looked more fragile 169

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than usual and white as a ghost under the make-up she'd applied. In the kitchen, she went to the refrigerator and took out a pitcher of iced tea. "Everything all right?" Ash asked gently. She glanced at him skittishly, but shook her head in surprising honesty. "No. No, nothing's been all right since..." She stood before the fridge, her head lowered when she whispered painfully, "Ripley." The heavy glass pitcher tipped, then slipped from her hand, and Ash didn't move fast enough to catch it. It shattered on the Mexican tile, sending shards of glass into her bare calves. Oblivious to the shattered remains of the pitcher, she lost the strength in her legs and sank toward the floor, sobbing in great, gulping cries that sounded as painful as they looked. Ash grabbed for her. He'd seen she was close to collapse as soon as she'd opened the fridge door. Catching her, he held her, led her to the table. When she was sitting, he kneeled before her, taking her hands in his. She was cold, either from the pitcher or from lack of life. He grabbed some paper towels and staunched the bleeding. After a moment, she pushed his hand away and held the make-shift bandages herself. "I can't forget. I can't stop feeling ... I was the woman who thought she could have it all—full-time job, full-time mother, full-time wife. A home. Who needed sleep? But I didn't save him. He was vulnerable. He was alone, and I fell asleep. I wasn't there for him when that car came ... crushed his body. 170

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Took him from me, and left me with this hollow shell of a life. Marriage, if it can even be called that anymore." She shook her head, gasping for air again. "And I know Casey blames me the way I blame myself. He'll make any excuse to get away from me. He can't bear to be with me for more than a few minutes." When she laughed bitterly, her raw gaze met his. "It's so ironic that I'm the only person he's ever opened up to, but now it's all over. It has been since ... I don't know why he stays! Why he still gets so damn jealous if another man so much as looks at me. Or if he thinks I'm looking at them. Reb came here about two years ago to get some files. I didn't dare tell Casey he was here, though it was for less than twenty minutes. He never would have forgotten it." Ash bit down on his questions. Right now, the only way to keep her open was to let her control the conversation. "He just hovers over me. Like I'm sick. Like I'm them—his parents. Some obligation he can't get rid of and never asked for, but he still has to be responsible for." Her anger over Casey lumping her in with the alcoholic, drug-addicted parents who had made Casey the untrusting, withdrawn man he'd become was evident in her clenched teeth. "He comes to me sometimes ... like it's something dark and shameful now. Something that used to be a miracle, healing. Now it's trash, but he can't stop himself. It's like a millstone, dragging us both down. He can't look at me, the woman who took his son from him. I can't tell you how much 171

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I wish I'd died instead of Ripley. I know Casey wishes that, too." "Your son was run over. A hit and run, you said," Ash pointed out softly. "It was an accident." "I fell asleep! I wasn't there for him." "You were working a full-time job, caring for a young child all on your own, getting no sleep. Where was your husband? Where was Ripley's father? Why was it all your responsibility? It wasn't, and it never should have been." "I knew Casey's life was all about proving himself. Proving that he wasn't like them—" She stopped abruptly, as though her loyalty to the man who'd opened up to her alone was still too strong to break his confidence. Ash was thinking how unworthy Casey was of his wife's lingering devotion. But then he considered what it must have been like for Casey. He'd come from a home where, in his single digits, he'd been taking care of himself. He'd been taking care of his mother and father, who used what little money they had for booze and smack. Like most drunks, they probably ignored him or beat him when they were drunk, then fawned over him when they were sick and needed him to take care of them. What was a father? Casey must have wondered more than once. He wasn't a drunk or deadbeat, but he'd had little experience with other children, even when he'd been a child himself. He'd never seen a good father-son relationship. The only person he'd ever opened up to had been Raven. Had he been afraid to open up to his own son? Afraid he'd fail, just like his own father had so miserably? His answer had 172

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probably been to become a workaholic, keeping long hours at the office while his wife tried to juggle home, child and her own career. Had he felt completely inadequate and unsure of himself the few hours he was at home? As though reading his mind, Raven said softly, "Ripley always preferred me. Casey was so awkward around him. He had no idea how to care for a baby, a toddler or even a little boy. After awhile, Ripley wouldn't spent time with him unless I was with the two of them. I suppose Casey became afraid of being rejected, so he just withdrew. Told himself he was doing his part by supporting his family financially." Much as Ash didn't want to sympathize with Casey, he couldn't stop remembering the few times he'd held his own daughter and she'd screamed bloody murder. After awhile, it'd become easier to let her mother do all the care-giving during the rare times he was with them. "What makes you think he blames you for your son's death?" The stricken look on her face, before she covered it with her hands and sobbed anew, told Ash there was a rare something the Network hadn't found out in their digging. "It's none of my business," Ash said softly, but after a moment she whispered, "I know he blames me because of ... the affair." He'd known it would be something like this. He put his hand on the back of her head and stroked her hair. "Yours or his?" "His. I belong to him. I could never..." She shook her head again, raising it. "Once. One time. I knew it. He didn't want 173

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me to know it, but I knew. I smelled her perfume on him as soon as he walked in the door that night, and then..." She looked over his shoulder as she tried to block out the memory. "...I went to Bethany Design the next day. I walked around until I smelled that perfume again. I knew as soon as I saw her she was the one. She had red hair." Like Raven does. Her voice hardened as the anger she'd tried to contain rose. "It happened less than a month after Ripley's death. Casey was working all the time. I almost never saw him, and when I did he was drinking. Why else would he give another woman what belonged to me from the minute we met? Why, if not to punish me for Ripley's death?" In his head, Ash came up with the excuse for the affair that Raven couldn't accept. Casey hadn't been able to talk to his wife; he'd refused to allow himself to open up to her about his own grief because she was grieving so much already. His caretaking instincts had warned him that if he added to her burden, she wouldn't survive under the weight of it all. He'd had nowhere to turn ... until this woman had offered him temporary consolation. Ash didn't mention it to Raven because it didn't justify what Casey had done. "You're still bleeding." He lifted the paper towel from one of her legs where several small shards had embedded. "Let me get this glass out." Her tears had been tamped down by her anger, but as her grief took over again, her weeping started once more. This time she wouldn't look at him. If he just left, she wouldn't 174

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take care of herself. He'd have to do it for her, just as Casey did. Standing, Ash reached down and eased her to her feet, planning to ask for a first aid kit. She didn't try to prevent him, looking up at him when she was standing. His vision filled with the picture of Kirsten last night, her haunted emotion coupled with what could only be described as shellshocked tears. Ash reacted the way he'd wanted to last night but hadn't allowed himself to. He held her, kissed her, tried to comfort her. 'I'm sorry. God, I'm sorry,' he'd wanted to say over and over until she believed him. Raven pulled away, and Ash felt as stunned as she looked when she mumbled in horror, "Oh God! No." He backed up immediately. "I didn't mean..." she insisted frantically. "I shouldn't have ... Oh God." Overwhelmed with the enormity of an act that had taken less than twenty seconds, she turned to run from the room. Ash's instincts were suddenly going off like the perimeter alarms had that morning. "Raven!" he shouted. At the same instant, the windows near the front door exploded in gunfire, shattering and erupting inward. He reacted automatically, catching her in his arms and curling around her as they fell toward the hard ceramic tile of the foyer. His body covered hers from head to toe. Tucking his head down, Ash clenched his teeth against the chaotic noise filling the room. He felt Raven's gasping shock beneath him, but she made no move to dislodge him. 175

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It was over as abruptly as it started, despite what it felt like. A squeal of tires and then utter silence caved in around them. "Stay down," he ordered as he eased off her. He drew his gun out, and crouching, moved to the broken windows and saw a car disappearing. It was already turning the corner, allowing him only to see that the car was white, a convertible. The license plate wouldn't help them even if he'd been able to get it. Jameson was too smart to make such an obvious mistake. Yanking open the door, Ash ran out to the street. He dialed the perimeter team. "Where the hell are you?" he demanded on hearing Rhiannon Murray's panting voice. "Jameson was in plain sight. He pulled up right beside us, waved and roared off. We lost him on the freeway." Ash swore. They were too far away to pursue Raven's shooter. Exactly as Jameson had no doubt planned. He wasn't working alone. He'd acted as a decoy so whoever just shot at Raven Harris could get away without being seen or caught. Ash closed his phone, put it away and replaced his gun in his shoulder holster. Then he went into the house. Raven lay trembling on the floor. Her gaze matched that of an animal who'd assumed it was dead and couldn't quite believe it wasn't true. "Are you all right?" She tried to speak and couldn't. Ash stepped into the kitchen and picked up the cordless phone that hung just around the corner. He dialed 911, made the report, then went 176

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to help Raven back into the kitchen and into a chair. Ash quickly assessed that she had no injuries from the assault. "You have a first aid kit?" She indicated a cupboard wordlessly, and he quickly found what he needed. She sat frozen on the chair, unable to speak until he brought sterilized tweezers over. "Who...?" Her voice resembled a ghost wavering into reality and fading back out instantly. She clearly hadn't seen his gun, so at least he didn't have to cover for that. "I don't know. Do you have any enemies, Raven?" Ash asked as he removed glass carefully from her calves. The pieces each made a tiny tinkling sound as he dropped them on to the table. Her 'No' was automatic, yet she broke off abruptly after. He met her uncertain gaze. "Is there someone?" "No. I mean, I was ... I was an investigative journalist for many years. My partner and I did a lot of controversial exposés on shady characters in every line of work. That was the point of our radio program, 'Straight Up!'. It might have been anyone, but I haven't done any of that for years. Why would anyone come after me now?" For her own protection, Ash had to make her realize she was in danger. That this shooting hadn't been some random act of violence. "Is this the type of neighborhood that has drive-by shootings?" He eased her skirt further up to check on her thighs, expecting her to balk. She didn't, and he found no shards there.

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"No. It's safe. Casey didn't want to live in Chicago, where I grew up. He said it wasn't safe, and this neighborhood was safe." Ash approved of the fear in her expression. Right now, she needed it. She needed to understand what she was up against. Maybe the threat of real death would bring her back to life. "Then if this wasn't random, we have to assume it was personal, don't we?"

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Chapter 21 Casey was falling apart in slow degrees, and Kirsten wasn't doing much better herself. Last night had been a sleepless night for both of them. Kirsten's emotions were all over the place. She was angry at Ash, angry at herself, angry at Casey for treating his wife so shamefully, angry at Raven for allowing it. And that didn't even begin to get into her own embarrassment over seeing Casey and his wife in an act they both felt dirty about—and Kirsten, being a voyeur to that act, felt even dirtier. Never mind that she hadn't had a choice. To protect him and Raven, she had to watch them at all times. As an operative, she'd seen worse than this, but nothing else had ever affected her personally, the way this one act had. They were at the Bethany offices, wasting time. Kirsten glanced at Casey's back. He'd long since discontinued the charade of getting some work done. He was sitting in his chair, staring at the wall as though he wanted it to open up and swallow him whole. Anything to separate him from his emotional misery. She'd been wrong about him from the start, Kirsten acknowledged. Though he'd certainly contributed his share to the downfall of his and Raven's relationship, he was hurting just as much as his wife was. She'd seen more than a glimpse of that when Raven left the master bedroom last night, left Casey alone with his self-disgust for his base sexual needs, his desire to lay claim on 'his property' with the paranoid fear that another man might enter the picture. He'd taken from 179

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Raven without giving anything but more heartache back. Guilt was eating away at him ravenously. When Kirsten had fled the room and left Ash on watch, she'd taken a mobile earpiece from their stock. She'd heard Casey suffering over his own guilt. He'd wept for so long, Kirsten had finally removed the earpiece and given the man at least one less eavesdropper to his pain. Swallowing, she turned her chair, looked at his rigid back for a long moment, then said softly, "I don't mean to be nosy, but you don't seem to be up for this today, Casey. Is everything all right?" He glanced at her, but looked away quickly in obvious embarrassment. "Elliot always had a knack for disappearing when you needed him most," he said under his breath, as though talking to himself. Kirsten frowned, and Casey looked at her again when she didn't speak. He saw the hurt she feigned in order to draw him out and offered, "I didn't mean that the way it sounded. You're by far the best creative partner I've worked with, but Elliot ... Elliot became a friend I could talk to in the years I've been here." Allowing a pause, she was prepared to ask him if he wanted to talk to her, a poor substitute, when her satellite phone went off. She was instantly alert. Unless it was an emergency, there was no reason for Ash to call her. Opening the phone, she got up and walked into the small coffee nook on the far side of the office. "I'm here," she said under her breath. 180

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Ash's voice came through hushed as well. Clearly he was huddled in some alcove, trying not to be overheard. "Jameson struck. Drove right alongside the perimeter team and gave 'em a cocky wave. They lost him on the freeway." "Where are you?" she asked in a friendly tone that wasn't at all appropriate to the conversation. "Next door. He had a partner. Shot through the front door from the car, a white convertible, then took off immediately. I've got nothing on the shooter." "What about her? Where was she?" "Right near the front door. But I got her down in time. She's fine. Minor cuts from the glass. Paramedics patched her up, but she refused medical transport. Local police are here. You better tell Casey and then bring him this way. Don't leave him." "All right." "Hey?" Still listening, Kirsten glanced at Casey, who was turned away from her. "What?" "She's aware this wasn't a random act, that it had to be personal." Kirsten swallowed, then said very quietly and casually, "Are we still intact?" "Yes. But it wouldn't hurt if Casey knew the act was personal, too." "Understood." She disconnected, then walked back to her desk. Casey was still turned away from her out of respect for a private conversation, she saw. He truly looked as though he hadn't 181

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had any interest at all in her phone call. He was back to staring at the wall. "Casey, there's been an incident at your home," she said cautiously. He whirled toward her in his chair, gaping like he didn't understand plain English. "Someone shot at your front door from the street, windows shattered, and Raven was slightly cut by the glass." Casey sat up straighter in his chair. "She's fine. The cuts were minor. The paramedics checked her thoroughly. Nate is with her, and the police are there. I need to take you to her." He seemed unable to move, but half-formed questions flew from his mouth like machine gun bursts. Kirsten helped him to stand, then grabbed her keys. On the way out, she told their secretary that Casey had a family emergency and to please tell Barb to call her at home later. Casey walked along with her to the elevator, down to the parking garage, and got into her car without protest. She didn't have the answers to most of his questions, but continued reiterating that his wife was fine to most of them. He was trembling despite her reassurance. As they left the underground garage, Kirsten asked carefully, "Was your wife's line of work dangerous?" By the expression on his lined face, Casey seemed unable to comprehend her question for a moment, yet he said, "She was an investigative journalist." "Is that dangerous?" Kirsten probed, wanting him to answer what she already knew. 182

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"It can be, I suppose. Why? You don't think..." "I think that sometimes, if a reporter uncovers something a criminal doesn't want anyone to know, and then broadcasts that something to the public ... yeah, being a reporter could be damn dangerous." Kirsten glanced at him from the road, and his look of horror was so unlike his usual withdrawn mask. His eyes were wide. "Her partner..." he started, something dawning in his mind. "What about her partner?" "Reb Porter. He was the type who just loved stirring up a hornets' nest of trouble. Fear was adrenaline for him. He got off on it. Raven told me once that if he didn't get fifty death threats a day he didn't feel he was trying hard enough." Casey looked down at his hands when he said, "He saw a murder when he was young. Some guy murdered his father, who was a senator at the time. Reb and Raven believed that the guy who killed his father was corrupt, some head of a covert, government-sanctioned organization, misusing power. It was that episode that made Reb want to be a journalist, and he just had to drag Raven along into it with him." Kirsten's every internal alarm was going off at the proof the Network had been breached by Jameson's corruption. She had to keep Casey talking, find out the depth of the breach. "How did Raven feel about it all?" "She thrived on the job, too, but the death threats made her feel uncomfortable. Especially after ... our son was born. But she said it was part of the job." 183

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Casey turned to her again, looking lost and Kirsten glanced at the road. Seeing his pain once more, a lump filled her throat. He had another question, as though she should know all the answers. "She hasn't worked for years. Why would anything happen now?" Kirsten shook her head, murmuring, "I don't know, Casey." They arrived at the house, which was surrounded by police cars, an ambulance and nosy neighbors, in under thirty minutes. Casey was out of the passenger's seat before Kirsten had even finished parking on the Griepentrogs' garage approach. She pulled her keys out the ignition and took off after him, in time to see him rush to his wife's side at the kitchen table. He didn't throw his arms around her, and she didn't fly into his. Yet Kirsten couldn't deny that they seemed relieved to see each other. One of the officers had just asked Kirsten who she was when Ash appeared, said she was his wife, and drew her inside. They ducked into the empty living room when the officer turned away from them. "Perimeter team in place?" she whispered with her arms around him. "Times three," Ash said in her ear. "Everyone's distracted. This is the first opportunity we've had to search the house and find out if she has any evidence. It's the best chance we're gonna get, I think."

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Kirsten nodded against his shoulder. Searching the house while there were cops all over it wasn't the easiest way, but it might be the only window they got. Ash passed her several microdisks, then she felt him stick a two-way earpiece against the skin opposite the back of her ear. "Okay?" he asked. Pulling back, she nodded, whispering, "Cover me."

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Chapter 22 Despite a houseful of cops, Kirsten was able to search the place from top to bottom without hindrance. Casey's office contained several CD-disks he probably saved work on. She saw no reason to take or open any of them, as they were carefully marked with specific campaign names. None of the disks seemed to belong to Raven. She made copies of everything on the hard drive of Casey's computer using the high capacity microdisks Ash had given her, just in case Raven had used his computer at any time. She'd also found a laptop in his office that looked as though it hadn't been used it years, enclosed in a soft case. Believing it'd been Raven's, she took it with her as she searched the rest of the house. It was in storage room on the second floor that she finally uncovered several boxes marked 'Raven'. "Bingo," she said softly when she took the lids off and found folders full of files, clippings, articles. There were far too many of them for her to look through now. She dropped the microdisk copies into one of the boxes, then covered them again. "You got something?" Ash's hushed voice in her earpiece was barely audible. "I've found three boxes and Raven's laptop. I need to get them next door. I'm going to bring them down one at a time, put them under the deck, then take them across when this place is quiet again. Is the path to the patio doors clear?" 186

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"Negative. Is there some way you can lower them down to the deck from an upstairs balcony?" Kirsten looked around the room. She'd seen some fishing stuff ... A moment later, she uncovered a tackle box containing a length of nylon rope, still in the cardboard binding. Somehow she couldn't picture Casey as a fisherman. But then she saw the small fishing pole made for a toddler. Had he planned to take his son fishing? The child-size pole had never been removed from the packaging either. Unexpected tears stung her eyes, and she turned away quickly. "I'm going to bring the boxes out the balcony in the master bedroom. Then I'll lower them down." "I'll be waiting on the deck." After all three boxes and the laptop had been brought to the balcony, Kirsten tied the rope around the first box as though doing the final-touch wrapping of a gift to keep it balanced as she lowered it. Then she brought it over to the edge of the balcony, looking over to see Ash waiting. He glanced around to make sure they weren't being watched. If the neighbor in back of the Harris' was watching with their cat, there would be no hope for it. Even so, securing any evidence was paramount. Ash waved to her. Kirsten lowered the first box down as slowly as she could. As soon as he could reach it, he brought it down, quickly removed the rope, and Kirsten reeled it back up to secure another box. When she looked down again with the second box ready, Ash was coming back up the deck stairs. She started lowering, and a moment later, she 187

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wrapped up the third and final box. The laptop went down with it. Ash removed the rope, then carried both off the deck and stuffed them under the pool crawlspace with the others. Before he could close the crawlspace door, an officer came around the corner of the house. Kirsten drew quickly back into the house. Through the radio transmitter, she heard Ash charming the guy with his concerned-neighbor shtick, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Time to get out of here. She tossed the rope coil back into the storage room and closed the door. Because she needed to be thorough, she searched the last two rooms upstairs for more information, found them clean and went downstairs. Ash was back in the house. The police were dispersing at last. Kirsten slipped into the kitchen as though she'd come from outside, to find Raven and Casey sitting at the table, looking overwhelmed with emotion and fatigue. Ash glanced at her, and she just barely inclined her head to tell him everything was intact. He turned to the couple. "We'll be right next door if you need anything. Just call." He scribbled the phone number next door on a scrap of paper he took from a memo pad near the telephone. Casey stood up and, surprising all of them, extended his hand to Ash. "Thank you. For being here. For taking care of my wife." He glanced at Kirsten when Ash said nothing, just shook his hand. "Thanks for bringing me home, Kris. I'm not sure I was in a state fit to drive." "Not a problem. And don't worry about work. I'll take care of everything. Take some time off. Stay home with Raven. I 188

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think you both need time to deal with this." And other, older and possibly more painful, things. When Kirsten faced Raven, the other woman's gaze skittered away. The sense of shame she displayed confused Kirsten. Ash led her outside, and then together they transferred the boxes and the laptop through the Griepentrogs' house and into the garage. With everything securely in the trunk of Ash's car, Kirsten said, "I'm going to take this in right now. With expanded perimeter teams in place and you here, it should be safe. I'll be back in a couple hours." "Report that Raven admitted just before the shooting that Reb Porter came to her house two years ago. He asked for some files, and I got the feeling from the little she said that he was thorough. He removed every copy she had of the evidence. She didn't make any connections about why he took it, but I'd bet none of this is going to have any of the accumulated intel on Jameson and the Network." "That explains why Porter disappeared, I guess. He must have made a connection between the subject of their last radio program and the deaths of their loved ones." Ash nodded, his eyes wary but somehow searching as he looked at her. She didn't have time to worry what he might be searching for. Forgiveness? "Be careful, Kirsten," he said softly.

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Chapter 23 With help from Security, Kirsten brought the boxes and laptop to the perch, setting them on the long table that ran the length of the glass overlooking Comm Central. Both Angelo and Shannon opened a box to verify the contents. "Take those to Systems for analysis," Angelo ordered Security as he replaced the lid. Kirsten waited until they were alone before she said, "I searched the house from top to bottom. This is everything. According to Ash, there'll be nothing to find in it." She told them what Ash had said about Reb Porter's final visit to Raven, and she could see that they'd made the connection that Reb might have been aware of the danger for him and Raven. Putting half her weight on the long table, Shannon McKee nodded. "So Jameson arranged the hit at last. No one was hurt?" Kirsten shook her head. "But the Harris' realize in some capacity that the shooting was personal because of her former occupation. Whether or not those boxes contain anything we need to seal the breach, we have to put the two of them in protective custody. Now." When Shannon and Angelo glanced at each other, neither saying a word, Kirsten was stunned to realize it wasn't going to happen. They weren't going to do it. Her anger swelled, but she tried to keep her tone rational. "Look, we can continue trying to protect them, but where they are, they're sitting ducks. They have to be put in a safe house where they can't be found." 190

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"Jameson left this place in shambles, Kirsten," Angelo said in a placating tone that rubbed her raw. "We still haven't fully recovered all the files his virus ate through. All our resources are on keeping Raven and her husband alive, trying to locate Reb Porter, extracting any information the two of them might have, and on keeping the Network functioning day by day. We can't risk another breach by bringing outsiders in right now." While she and Ash had done everything they could to prevent harm from coming to the Harris', their superiors had to know as well as she did that they couldn't keep it up much longer. Sooner or later, Jameson would find an edge and they couldn't prevent him from using it to his advantage. She had to offer them alternatives. "Ash and I can break cover. We can put Raven and Casey in a safe house, let them think it's temporary FBI protection. If they know we're trying to protect them—" McKee was shaking her head. "Right now, that's not an option. We need you and Barnett to stay where you are right now. If there's a change in plans, the two of you will be the first to know." McKee hit the intercom, and Justine Fielding said, "Sir?" "I want that data analyzed and a report worked up on the findings, top priority." "Already on it, sir. ETA on the report: four days." "I want it in half that," McKee ordered in no uncertain terms, disconnecting. Kirsten glanced at Angelo, who'd always allowed her to pump him for more than he gave anyone else during a 191

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routine brief. "Ash says Jameson is working with a partner. Do we have an ID yet?" Angelo's gaze narrowed, a look she well knew and had found annoyingly conservative on every single occasion she'd seen it. He had a ninety-five percent sure guess, but he wouldn't share it with her until it was one hundred percent certain. With McKee sitting right there, intimidating her with her powerful presence and making her feel like she couldn't make any requests without permission, she couldn't work something out of Angelo either. "We're doing everything we can to find out, Kirsten. Be patient. Stay on them, and stay in touch with any developments." With that, he dismissed her. Kirsten waited until she was back in the car before she let her frustration out with her fists on the steering wheel.

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Chapter 24 Kirsten was fuming, Ash noticed right away when she came through the door. He couldn't deny his worry over the last hour and a half, waiting for her to return intact, and his own relief at seeing her mad instead of hurt. "They're not gonna put the Harris' in protective custody?" he guessed. "No, they're not. Dammit." She slammed the car keys on the counter, and Ash stood from the listening post. As he came toward her, he put on the mobile earpiece. "They can't afford another breach by bringing outsiders in. Reb Porter must have the information on Jameson and the Network, but he's still MIA." She should have known Angelo and McKee wouldn't agree to protective custody so soon, but her sense of justice was honed to the point that she'd fight like a demon even in a losing battle. It was one of the things Ash had come to appreciate most about her in the past thirteen years. She sighed, putting her arms over her chest petulantly. "Anything happening here?" "Our 'glass specialist' came by and fixed the windows ... and a few other weak areas in our security defense." Bulletresistant glass, a wider perimeter around the house, so anyone even parking on the other side of the street from the Harris' house for a full block would sound a warning at their listening post. 193

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"What are they doing?" she asked, already moving toward the surveillance cameras. Ash followed her, and they saw Casey and Raven at the dinner table, both doing little more than pushing food around their plates. Glancing at Kirsten, Ash saw the intense emotion in her expression and he read it loud and clear. She wanted to scream at them for their stubbornness. Like it or not though, they weren't here to reconcile this couple whose marriage was in shambles. Ash tensed his jaw, unwillingly preparing himself to tell Kirsten everything, and already accepting she wouldn't like it. "I didn't tell you something," he said softly. She glanced up and back at him, her gaze narrowed in mild surprise and expectation. She was wondering why he hadn't told her before she left to report to the compound. "Before the shooting, Raven also told me pretty much everything. Her side of it at least. Most of the intel that was in their profiles—and a little more." Kirsten glowed at the news, impressed with his finesse. "She actually confided in you? God, she must have been..." "Desperate to confide in anyone friendly enough to listen," Ash agreed, refusing to take credit for getting her to open up. "Casey is, too, but I doubt he would have confided in me today, even if you hadn't called to tell us about the hit. He would have if I was a man, I think. Maybe you should try to befriend him. Besides, if you were to defend him, he'd know you weren't a threat to his marriage." "I don't know if it'll come up, but he cheated on her." 194

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Just like he'd figured, Kirsten's face knotted up at the news. "I knew it. A one-night stand, I bet. He had all the signs. She knows about it, huh?" Ash nodded. Hell, he didn't want to tell her the last part of his time with Raven today, before the shooting, but it'd be worse if Kirsten heard it through surveillance, should Raven decide to confess to her husband. "There's more." Kirsten's surprise was more pronounced now. She at least understood now why he hadn't told her these things before she went to the compound. The personal aspects of Raven and Casey's relationship didn't need to be reported in their standard B&As. Kirsten stared at him impatiently. Ash looked into the monitors. "I kissed her. She thinks she started it." Unable to help himself from the need to know her reaction, Ash glanced at her again. Her mouth had fallen open, soundless, in shock, then in anger, like he'd anticipated. "Did she ... Did she start it, Ash?" The worst was yet to come. "No. She didn't." Before his very eyes, Kirsten pulled herself into terminator mode. Cool, cold, unaffected, and he found himself vehemently unwilling to let her take the easy way out again. They needed to view it calmly. Use it to their advantage now that the deed was done. With her arms crossed defensively over her chest, Kirsten demanded, "Explain." He laughed slightly, reaching up to scratch his eyebrow. "I don't think you really want that explanation, baby." 195

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Her eyes narrowed on the 'married couple' endearment. "Why would you do it, Ash? It's the last thing those two need. Never mind that—" She shook her head, refusing to finish her thought. "I don't agree. In hindsight, I think it's exactly what they need, but it had nothing to do with them." His insistence on not overreacting to what he'd done, for personal or professional reasons, seemed to break her to pieces. "What the hell do you think this would accomplish? Did you plan this? Or do you want her? Do you find her attractive?" "I didn't plan anything. I told you, it had nothing to do with her. I wasn't thinking at that moment any more than I was when the Vegas mission was over but I had to have you anyway. One time. Once for all, I told myself. And the second I did, I knew it'd never be enough. I was damned." Her face was tight with dread as though she was having a delayed reaction to a punch in the gut. For all intents and purposes, he had punched her. The Vegas mission had become the unspeakable between them. And here he was daring to speak of it. When she swallowed, she glanced away. Yet she spoke in a weak, low, defenseless voice. "Why did you kiss her, Ash? Tell me, damn you." Ash didn't allow himself to consider if she was jealous. That couldn't be part of their mission. "She looked up at me. In tears. And I did what I wanted to do to you last night," he told her quietly. 196

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Kirsten closed her eyes, shaking her head as if had ceased to make any sense. Or maybe she did understand it and she didn't want to. When he turned her into his arms, she made a feint to pull away. "I wanted to hold you, Kirsten. Comfort you." He lifted her face, but she stubbornly refused to open her eyes. "Kiss you and tell you I'm so damn sorry. I never meant to hurt you, baby. Never you." "You never knew I was capable of being hurt is more like it, isn't it?" she whispered. "I'm the Terminator, and you wanted to fell me, just like every other bastard in the Network." She'd opened her eyes, managing to take on the look of someone who felt nothing, but he didn't believe it now any more than he ever had. "I knew you weren't what everyone else made you into. I knew. I saw your face when Roan was captured. I saw your face when you tried to go back for him. You would've gone back for him if I hadn't stopped you. You wanna be a machine, baby, but there's still a heart full of red blood pumping through you. You don't have to admit it. I know you." She shook her head wildly, just like he knew she would. He'd pushed her buttons like a pro. "You don't know anything. I don't feel. You don't feel. We can't, Ash." "I don't want to, I can't afford to, but I can't turn it off with you. From the moment I met you, screamin' at Angelo with the balls nobody else had to stand up to him, I knew I'd never forget you or get you out of my system. I breathe you, Kirsten. You're the only air I've had since the Network gave 197

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me back the use of my legs." He closed his eyes on the cutting memory of walking in on her and Roan Emory, making love in standby quarters, the day of Roan's capture. "Every time I thought of you with Roan, from the first time I saw you with him, it damn near killed me." He'd probably never forget the sound of her helpless cries of pleasure. Up until that moment, he'd convinced himself beyond a shadow of a doubt that Emory was blackmailing her into giving him what he wanted. He'd told himself she derived no enjoyment from the sham of a relationship. "You saw me with him?" "I saw him making love to you." Now he couldn't fail to see the shame that flushed her skin an unnatural pink. She tried to pull away, but he held her, drawing her closer instead. Defeated by her own desires, she laid her forehead against his chest. "I don't want to hear this, Ash. Don't tell me. The Network is the only life we'll ever have. We can't afford to let anything else matter. It doesn't matter what you saw. That was just physical. It meant nothing." He stroked her hair, her satin skin, lowering his mouth to the top of her head. "I know." "You do?" she asked in quiet surprise. "I know it in my head. It's harder to accept..." "I never felt anything. Not with him. Not with anyone except..." Her hands clenched on his shirt, strangely fierce and tentative. When he nudged her face up, she looked at him, her gaze moving to his mouth in naked agony. She wanted 198

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him to kiss her, but she was afraid. He could have sworn she wanted to say something, to explain, but she held it in. Ash raised his fingers, ran his thumb over her lips, feeling her moist response as he opened his hand and she pressed her mouth to it. Say I'm the only one who's ever mattered to you. I'm the only one who's ever made you feel. Ash wanted that confession so damn bad, it made him insane. He lowered his forehead against hers, pulling her closer. It wouldn't be enough. Now any more than it had been six years ago, when he'd had her and wanted her again without a single break in that need. Her body shuddered against his, a sob she wouldn't let go of. His mouth paralleled with hers, drawing the same air. More agony. There was nothing he wouldn't give to kiss her, to be free to do that. But he had no freedom at all. He'd given that up, without regret until this moment. Even so, he knew he owed everything to the Network. Meeting Kirsten Ulrick, the woman he wanted with everything inside him, wasn't enough to change the facts. No matter how bad they both might want otherwise, they couldn't.

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Chapter 25 Kirsten's first thought when she woke the next morning was that she didn't want to go to work. She didn't want to leave the house, where anything could happen. Ash could handle it here, but if Jameson went full guns ... she didn't want to be a half hour away. Unfortunately, she had no choice. To keep cover, as McKee and Angelo had specified they needed to, she had to go to Bethany Design. Do her job. Do Casey's job today. They were scheduled for a preliminary pitch of the campaign that morning. Kirsten would be on her own for it, but she knew she could handle the task. That seemed like the easy part of the whole day. Casey would remain home with his wife, and that was the best possible scenario. Though Casey hadn't been trained in combat or even defense, she knew he had both a gun and the protective instincts toward Raven to be able to help Ash keep her safe for a few hours. Casey and Raven had spoken briefly last night, which by itself was unusual for them to do. They'd talked about who was trying to kill her. Was it serious? Had the shooting been a warning? Raven seemed to have no idea whatsoever who'd come gunning for her. She'd said that over and over as if her mind was battering her with the same unanswerable question. She'd also confessed to her husband that she'd kissed Ash, though she didn't know why she'd done it. It'd happened far too fast for her to analyze. Casey had been visibly disturbed 200

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by this news, but instead of anger or jealousy emerging and making him do rash things like the night before, he'd asked softly if Ash had kissed her back. Raven claimed no, she didn't know, she didn't think so. Ash had been shocked by it, she said, that was all she knew. Kirsten had marveled that Raven could be so hidden inside herself that she'd had no clue Ash was the one to initiate the kiss. "Are you attracted to him?" Casey asked as Kirsten watched from the listening post, barely breathing. "No. I was confused. I didn't know what I was doing." Raven's reply hadn't been frantic, just uncertain, probably about her own husband's intentions in asking her questions about her motives. "Is he attracted to you?" Raven had shaken her head immediately, this time with no doubt. "How can you ask that? You've seen them together. He loves his wife. The way they touch each other. Look at each other." Raven flushed, her tone barely above a whisper and raspy with hurt. "They belong to each other completely. He's probably already told her so she could never hear it from someone else and misinterpret it as unfaithfulness to her." Raven and Casey's discomfort with each other during the conversation had been torture to behold. They hadn't looked at each other at all as they spoke. "I ... I'm tired. I think I'm going to go to bed." Leaving the kitchen, Raven had gone—not to the master bedroom, but to the living room, where she usually spent her nights. For the first time, Casey hadn't simply let her fall into 201

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her self-destructive habits. He'd come into the room after her, looked at her for a moment in a way that had made her utterly wary, then, surprisingly, he'd said, "No, you're not going to sleep here." He'd gone to her and drawn the blanket away from her. "What? Why..." she'd managed awkwardly, as he'd urged her to her feet. "You're not safe here. Even with that new glass." He pointed to the windows that had been shattered with the impact of machine gun fire earlier. "You're sleeping in our bedroom. With me." He might as well have suggested the most off-the-wall thing imaginable for the shock Raven had displayed, yet she hadn't fought him. She'd allowed him to lead her upstairs, to get out a nightgown for her, to dress her the way someone might dress a young child. After a visit to the bathroom, she'd even allowed him to tuck her into bed. "I'll be back," he'd said while she peered up at him from under the covers like an uncertain mouse. Casey had gone through the house, making sure all the doors and windows were locked securely and that their home security system was working properly. He'd looked out all the windows, too, as though expecting someone to be watching the house. After he'd gone back upstairs and brushed his teeth, Raven lay wide awake. She'd watched her husband undress with the same wariness of traditional virgin on her wedding night. In briefs, he'd turned out the lights and got under the covers with her. 202

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Kirsten had hated herself for the unprofessional tears she'd felt burn her eyes as she'd watched them, together at last but still worlds apart. Later, after Raven had fallen asleep, Casey had moved closer to her and he'd watched her sleep. He'd touched her face and hair tenderly, the way he never did when she was awake. Ash had gone into the kitchen to make fresh coffee at that moment, and Kirsten knew he'd been watching her, but she couldn't hide how these people affected her. She'd never been affected on a mission. Affected by mission material anyway, she'd amended to herself reluctantly. Raven and Casey reminded her painfully what it was like to hurt, to need. To be unable to reach out and take what you wanted. She hadn't allowed Ash to say anything more to her about the Vegas mission, consequences or reactions, last night. She hadn't let herself beg him to believe, like it would matter, that Roan could pleasure her body out of pure skill, but he'd never touched her heart. Even this morning, she'd ignored Ash as she got ready for work. What was the point of talking? Explaining until he'd never doubt again? No one in the Network was free. They'd given their lives to the organization, to accomplish its mission. To uphold justice, even when it meant sacrificing their personal lives, their identities, for a dangerous life in the shadows. It was the only life they'd ever know for as long as they lived. She'd accepted that long ago because she'd wanted nothing else. As she put her presentation case into the backseat of her car, Ash came out of the house, and her tension knotted in her stomach. They had to keep up their cover as a happily 203

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married couple, but she didn't feel capable of it this morning. Not when he kissed her. Not when she saw the regretful, lost look in his eyes as he caressed the line of her jaw. "Be careful," he said tenderly. "When we separate, we become easy targets. The Network is already vulnerable. Taking out one of us will make it even more unstable. Top priority's been placed on the Harris'. Not on us." Kirsten nodded. She'd considered the same thing and counted it logical. She didn't want to think about Ash being hurt. He was a warrior, just like he'd said. So was she. "I can take care of myself." "I've never doubted it." They'd both do their jobs until the end. She nodded again, but when she started to slide down into her car, he held her back with his arm around her waist. Kirsten wasn't prepared in the least when he kissed her again. This wasn't a makegood-for-neighbors kiss. This was an I-breathe-you; you'rethe-only-air-I've-had-for-fifteen-years kiss that left her shaking when he finally let her go. How can he tear me to shreds like this? How can he make an attempt for the impossible? Her own feelings were too strong. God, if only ... But there was no way. No possible way whatsoever. Once the mission was over, they would go back to living at the Network's beck and call. End of story. As Kirsten slammed the car into gear and shot out of the driveway, she gritted her teeth against the sob that worked its way up her chest. Damn him. Damn him to hell. Damn me to the same. 204

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She struggled to claim a deep breath, to tamp the flood down as she drove. Her mind latched onto the presentation of the campaign she'd be giving as soon as she arrived at Bethany Design. She was so focused it took awhile for her to notice the car behind her with the top down. White. Convertible. The shooter yesterday had driven a white convertible, Ash had said. Without being obvious about her awareness of it, Kirsten noted that the car was keeping up with her, ramp for ramp, exit for exit. Two cars behind her, it was too far to ID the driver. The only thing she could conclude with any degree of accuracy was that a male drove. Jameson? Kirsten slid her hand along the passenger seat, found her satellite phone, and felt her way into getting it into hands-free mode. She spoke a word that automatically dialed and connected her to the Network. "Identify." "Ulrick, code 21467L2." "Transferring." A moment later, Angelo answered, "What do you have, Kirsten?" "A tail." "Understood. Where are you?" "I-55, about five miles from Exit Ramp 53A. I'm going to lead him to you, but you need to set a trap on West Maxwell Street, where it hits South Branch Chicago." "Give us five minutes to set it up. We'll be ready for you." Kirsten did nothing to alert her tail to the fact that she knew he was on her. She drove, seemingly without concern, 205

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as she had for the last few mornings, except she'd taken her gun out and rested it snugly under her left thigh. Once she got off the ramp, onto West Roosevelt heading east, then took a right on South Jefferson Street, she could lead him down West Maxwell, straight toward the river. Where he wouldn't be able to turn around in order to escape. Just as she neared the exit ramp, Angelo gave her the goahead signal on the completed trap. The car was closer now, but as soon as she turned right on Jefferson, he was directly on her bumper. She saw dark hair. Incredibly wide shoulders. Unless Jameson had reversed the aging process and altered his appearance radically, this man couldn't be him. "Do you have ID?" Angelo asked, and she gave him a description. "Late thirties or early forties. Shoulder-length, brown hair, widows' peak..." When she turned on West Maxwell, the car behind her pulled up right alongside her in the other lane. Kirsten brought her gun up, aiming it right at him. Widows' peak ... Oh God! Her eyes had to be playing tricks on her. The hair was a different color. Shorter. It was him though. It'd been seven years, but she knew it was him. She'd know his face, his hulk-like shoulders, six foot five inches of lean height and muscle, that widows' peak that gave his chiseled-in-stone face an ironic heart shape. He was a man without love, without heart, without soul possessing the face of an emotionless work of art. The face of a fallen angel. Roan Emory. 206

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Kirsten stopped breathing or thinking when his irresistible grin flashed at her, then he blew her a kiss in greeting. Unexpected, he rammed his car into the side of hers. Taken off-guard, she dropped her gun on the road and groped for the wildly reeling steering wheel. Nor was she expecting it when he fell back a second later, before she'd recovered, and rammed the back-end of her car for all it was worth. The vehicle went into a spin she was afraid she couldn't control as she bounced off the road. Jabbing the brakes in quick bursts, she finally came to a screeching halt by the roadside. Dizziness kept her from answering Angelo's request for an update. When she oriented herself, she saw the trap ahead, and Roan turning off on South Stewart Avenue, just before it. He gave a friendly wave before he floored it. "What the hell is going on?" Angelo demanded of anyone who'd answer. The site team leader answered that the target was getting away. A chopper lifted in pursuit. "Kirsten, are you still there?" Angelo asked in concern. Kirsten swallowed to moisten her dry throat. "I'm here. He rammed me. He's turned off, heading back the way we came." She slammed her car back on the road, stopped long enough to grab her gun, and then joined the chase with the rest of the team. She already knew they wouldn't catch him. By the time she got back to West Roosevelt, the helicopter had reported the white convertible had disappeared. If anyone could vanish without a trace, it was Roan. 207

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She pulled off to the side of the road just before the ramp. As cars whizzed by her in the heavy morning traffic, she told herself she had to be imagining it was him. It couldn't have been Roan. She'd been thinking about him lately, and her mind had conjured his image. But her logical mind countered. No, it had been him, impossible as it was. "Ulrick?" Angelo's impatient voice barked at her from the phone on the passenger's seat. Reluctantly, Kirsten picked it up and switched it back to regular service. "It was Roan. Roan Emory," she managed with more strength than she would have believed herself capable of at the moment. "Okay." Nothing more from Angelo. Just 'Okay'. No wonder Jameson had been able to disappear so completely when he went rogue. No wonder everything. If Roan was working with him, they were screwed. "Is that who you thought was working with Jameson?" she asked heavily. "We had an idea," Angelo conceded. "How?" "His transponders weren't damaged when he was captured. They were deactivated deliberately, and we couldn't get them back on. He was off the board, and our sensors couldn't pick up any trace. At the time, I assumed he'd done something himself so he wouldn't be a liability to the Network. But he was Jameson's pet operative. You know that better than anybody. When Jameson went rogue, it was the only scenario that made sense." 208

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It was true that Kirsten knew best how Roan could get whatever he wanted out of Jameson. He'd been the one operative who hadn't answered to anyone within the Network. "Why didn't you tell me?" Kirsten asked, trying to keep the emotion out of her tone. The desperation she'd felt, having to leave Roan to die, had been for nothing. The years of terror that followed. What else could she assume? All of that must have been planned. "What was the point?" She snorted in disbelief. What was the point? Her protector had been captured, killed. She'd done nothing to save him. She'd spent seven years living with that scourge, knowing she should forget it but never being allowed to by those around her. Angelo knew she and Roan had been more than team members on Alpha Team. While he'd had never approved of it, he'd had no choice but to allow the sanctioning of their sexual relationship by other superiors in the Network. "Are you telling me you never suspected he might turn against us?" he asked gently. "He wasn't given a choice when we brought him in. He had skills we needed, but Jameson didn't give him a choice when it came to us using those skills. He never believed it's not the way I willingly do things." In all the years Kirsten had known Roan, he'd been the machine everyone now called her. No one outside of Level 1 superiors knew who he was before he'd been brought in. He'd killed without blinking an eye. Innocents' deaths seemed to have no more meaning to him than criminals'. He'd done his job with a cold precision that had frightened her in a part of 209

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herself she'd refused to acknowledge existed. If anyone could be stripped of all emotion and react like a robot, it was him. Every time he'd made love to her, even as her body still throbbed with his consummate ability to render her a helpless hedonist at his command, she'd feared him the way a person who truly believes in justice feared evil. She'd never turned her back on him, or slept when he was nearby. Now she concluded that being given the no-win choice of join or die could have turned him into the unfeeling creature he'd been. "We'll work up a likeness of his current appearance now for our teams. And ... I'll inform Ash." When Kirsten pushed the button to disconnect, she realized she was shaking uncontrollably. Roan's alive. He was alive, and he was working with Giles Jameson, the man he'd protected her from in the years that followed her rape. Dear God, how could there be any way to succeed against the two of them? No one had ever gone up against Roan and won. She couldn't have told Ash herself. Not remembering the way Ash had looked at her whenever she was with Roan. Not remembering what he'd said during the Vegas op. They'd been playing a role, yet there'd been truth in it. She'd hadn't been fooling herself about that. Ash had felt as much as she had. He'd felt something for her long before the Vegas mission. Last night, when he'd said in a half-insane voice that he'd seen her and Roan making love, she'd understood for the first time why Ash had looked at her like he couldn't fathom the relationship between them, a relationship that Roan 210

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flaunted. She understood why he'd almost seemed hurt that she gave herself to someone else. How could he comprehend that she'd had absolutely no choice in the matter? As she had all her life, she'd done what she had to do to survive.

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Chapter 26 Roan Emory was alive. A jealousy, an old one that he'd been remembering far better than he wanted to lately, came over Ash, but he forced himself to think of Kirsten. He couldn't imagine how it felt to be involved with someone, to lose that person and spend seven years coping with the shock, only to find out it'd all been a set-up. She had to be going through hell. Ash couldn't deny his own need to talk to her. He picked up his phone and immediately put it back down. No, like it or not, Kirsten wouldn't want to talk about this any more than he'd wanted to talk about his feelings for her last night. Emory was alive, not dead. Had his capture all been a ruse or had Jameson later extracted him without using Network resources? Had he been working with Jameson at the time of his capture? If that was the cause, the capture had been leading up to Jameson's plan to destroy the Network. The implications of that were too immense to track. One thing was clear: Roan Emory's 'death' finally made sense the way it never had before. The chances of Emory being taken by their greatest enemy were slim to none. It was unimaginable with an operative of Roan's considerable skills. Even after it'd happened, most people didn't believe it. The only thing that convinced them was Kirsten's grief. If she—the one who'd known Roan better than anyone else, believed his death was authentic, it had to be the real thing. 212

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With Emory at his side, Jameson would have absolutely nothing to lose. Ash conceded the logic of the partnership. Emory and Jameson had a lot in common. In actions he now considered completely stupid but had seemed his only course at the time, Ash had broken into the Black File consoles more than once. He'd had to know what attracted Kirsten to Roan. There had to be something he didn't know—something he'd felt like he couldn't survive without knowing. He'd discovered that Emory had been some hot shot wunderkind who'd been approached by everyone from NASA to the United States government for his genius skills. He'd refused Angelo's offer to join the Network, but Jameson had needed him and brought him in anyway. Angelo had always staunchly refused to bring in anyone who couldn't be persuaded. Jameson's own history was similar, in that neither of them had ever really had a choice about joining. But why would Emory want to work with the man who'd essentially taken his life from him? Unless Roan had no idea that it'd been Jameson who'd done it, not the Network. In that case, Ash understood how easily Jameson could have manipulated him into thinking the organization was the enemy, an enemy the two were capable of bringing down if they worked together. Ash picked up the fax Angelo had just sent, of a computeraged and manipulated image of Roan, taking into account Kirsten's reported changes in his appearance. Incognito or not, Emory was a man those who knew him best could easily recognize. The coldness in his eyes would never change. The 213

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stance that said nothing and no one mattered to him. Not life, not death, not innocence or evil. And not his undeniably justifiable cockiness. Emory had never failed. He'd never failed. He had Kirsten. He was her lover. She feared yet couldn't refuse him. What made her stay with him? Ash's hands clenched. Despite her undeniable enjoyment of the act, her reasons had nothing to do with sex. Ash had convinced himself of that long ago, and he wasn't any more willing to believe otherwise after seeing Kirsten's shame over it last night. They would have brought Jameson, working solo, in or down within a week. Maybe two. With Emory and Jameson working together ... Hell, their job had just become infinitely harder. How do you bring down the most dangerous man alive? Grimacing at his insidious feeling that Roan's reappearance also threatened him personally, Ash tossed down the photo on the listening post board. The phone rang, and he was instantly aware. The only calls that would come in on the regular line were from Bethany Design and the Harris'. Since Kirsten was at work, it had to be the neighbors. Ash picked up the receiver while scanning the house and perimeter on video. Everything was quiet. Raven was in the master bedroom, her eyes closed as she lay in the bed with the ends of the blanket curled tightly around her hands. Casey called from the living room. "Nate Weston," he answered. 214

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"Nate, this is Casey Harris. I'm not sure why I'm calling you, but..." He sighed, sounding more than a little embarrassed. "Something is missing." "What do you mean?" "Raven says she had three boxes she packed all her work into years ago. They were in the storage bedroom upstairs. They're all gone. We also noticed her laptop is gone from my office." "Hold on. I'll be over in a minute." "Thank you," Casey said before Ash hung up. Ash checked that the bulky sweater he wore covered the bulge of his gun in the shoulder holster. Then he clipped his sat phone to his belt. Though if Casey thought hard about it he'd wonder why he believed Nate Weston could do anything for him, Ash was relieved he'd done a thorough job of convincing the Harris' he was someone who could help them. The fact that Casey hadn't turned to the police about his concern told Ash a lot about them. Something had taught them to distrust regular law enforcement. Regardless of why, it was going to be a hell of a lot easier getting information out of the Harris', not to mention protecting them, if they trusted him and Kirsten. Casey waited in the open doorway at the front of his house, and Ash quickened his pace to reach him. The guy was an open target. Ash checked behind in the street, then said, "Let's go inside." Casey closed the door behind them. After leading Ash to the living room, Casey sat on the sofa and covered his eyes for a moment. When he glanced up at Ash, he looked 215

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every bit as exhausted in person as on the monitors. He hadn't slept. He'd been watching over his wife as though afraid to close his own eyes for even a second. For the first time since Ash had met him, the guy looked less than perfectly groomed. Ash stood motionless, waiting. After a moment, he slipped into a recliner opposite the man. "I'm sorry to bother you with this, Nate," Casey said. "You did a lot for us last night. Raven and I don't feel comfortable having police invading our home and our lives. You seem to understand the situation we're facing the way they can't. They've never done anything for us. They never turned up anything about ... our son's death either." Aahh. Ash comprehended now why they were distrustful of local law enforcement. They felt betrayed by them because they'd done nothing to catch their son's killer. "It's all right," Ash said easily. "You said some boxes and a laptop are missing?" Casey nodded, the brackets around his mouth deepening in a frown. "Raven's job was investigating controversial leaders in the area, criminals, mostly those no one would suspect had dirty dealings. I guess I never realized until yesterday how dangerous her job was. I thought it was mostly media hype." Casey snorted derisively. "Her partner was so radical. Their radio program was ... well, I thought it was just one of those worthless talk show programs intended to shock and titillate the audience, not to really provide solid facts." 216

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Ash had to wonder if Raven realized how little respect her husband had had for the work she'd done. If he believed her work amounted to fluff pieces, he couldn't have been supportive in word or deed. Listening to the two of them awkwardly talk earlier this morning, Ash was certain only that Raven blamed herself for wanting to have it all, that she'd been hurt by her husband's hindsight assessment of her career—and Casey felt sick with regret about the whole thing. Not that it justified how he'd put everything on his wife's shoulders all those years. "I'm ashamed to admit ... I admitted it to her this morning ... I thought she and Reb were making up most of the stuff they talked about. Raven tells me now it was all true." "Where is Raven?" Ash asked, wanting really to know why she was letting Casey handle this disclosure. While Ash had been on the phone with Angelo, the two of them must have discovered the boxes and laptop were missing, then made the decision to consult Nate Weston about it. "Asleep upstairs." "Does she know yet who'd wanna kill her?" Casey shook his head wearily. "She says it could be anyone, but she can't think of anyone in particular." "What about her partner? Reb? Would he know who could have done this?" Eyes narrowing in obvious jealousy, Casey said, "She hasn't seen him since she quit her job six years ago." Raven had kept Reb's sudden appearance two years ago a secret from Casey this morning, proving that her dread of her husband's jealousy wasn't fleeting in the least. 217

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"So they weren't friends outside of their work?" Ash had read the profile over and over, but he wanted Casey to tell him. He could inadvertently give them a clue to Porter's current whereabouts. Casey swallowed what had to be a gullet-full of pain and unresolved feelings about the relationship his wife had had with her work partner. "Before we married—in fact, as far as Porter was concerned—they were still lovers when Raven and I became involved in Hawaii. They were lovers since high school. He was her brother's best friend, three years older, but that didn't stop him from making overtures to a fourteenyear-old girl." The judgmental bitterness in Casey's voice made his face look older, even a little dangerous. "They were lovers all through high school, but they had a volatile relationship. They broke up as many times as they made up, and Raven became involved with other men deliberately whenever they broke up to punish him. But she said none of those relationships could have gone anywhere. I don't believe Reb ever got over the way she dropped him for me, not until he met Laura. But after..." Casey's voice cracked when he shoved his son's name out like an anvil far too heavy to manage. "...Ripley and Laura died, I heard Reb quit the station, too. He and Raven haven't seen each other since the day she quit. I don't have any idea where he is now. I just know Raven hasn't had any contact with him." He'd clearly kept his eyes peeled, just in case, but he'd still missed Reb's one appearance—a visit that'd had little to do with seeing Raven personally, especially for the licentious purposes Casey would assume. Either Porter had been 218

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protecting Raven by taking the incriminating evidence, or he'd planned to use or maybe disappear with it. "This is probably not what you want to hear, Casey, but I feel it's important you know that Reb did come here—two years ago. He asked Raven for some files. Apparently, he was only here for a few minutes, just long enough to get what he needed. Do you know any specific files Porter might have taken? Or if he took the laptop?" Casey shook his head. "No idea?" "I never ... involved myself with Raven's career. I have no idea what Reb might have taken. I guess it doesn't matter. Once our son was ... lost to us, Raven had no interest in her career anymore." The man frowned, and Ash wondered if Casey really believed his wife would return to her former lover with the slightest provocation? His jealousy over her previous relationships remained white hot after two decades of a basically monogamous marriage. According to Casey's profile, he'd never had any relationships with a woman before Raven, not even in high school. They hadn't even been able to dig up any purely sexual, short-term liaisons. By all accounts, until that brief liaison they'd only just heard about, Raven was the only woman he'd ever been with. His childhood had to have something to do with his withdrawal from personal or strictly sexual relationships, and apparently he was bothered by the fact that his wife hadn't saved herself for him, too. Casey glanced up, his gaze filled with sudden accusation. "She told me. That she kissed you yesterday." 219

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Ash didn't react. He couldn't afford to. "It didn't mean anything," he said simply. "She was upset and she wasn't thinking clearly. You need to realize that, as much guilt as Raven harbors, she's still loyal to you." Casey showed no surprise at all that his wife was consumed with guilt. He'd listened to her weep night after night, roaming their home like a ghost in search of her missing son. He'd suffered under her guilt along with his own. Ash felt he had no choice but to break Raven's confidence in order to make Casey aware of a reality he couldn't have fully absorbed from seeing her grief. "She believes you blame her for the death of your son." "Did she tell you that?" Casey asked in a small, shocked, painful voice. Ash nodded. Casey thrust himself to his feet. "Why? Why would she believe that?" "For the obvious reason. You've withdrawn from her completely. You work every day, longer than normal hours. You don't talk to her yet you hover over her like she's an invalid. You're not a husband. You're nothing more than a caretaker. Hell, you only touch her when you can't keep yourself away from her." A deep, humiliated red filled Casey's face and neck. No stopping now. Ash plunged directly in the flames he was deliberately stoking. "She told me that. And she told me you cheated on her." 220

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Casey knees buckled and he all but collapsed on the nearest surface—an end table. Ash wondered for an instant if he'd faint from the shock. He seemed as disoriented as he would if he'd been given a powerful drug. "She knows," he whispered weakly, past what sounded like a planet-size lump of emotions. Ash was surprised he didn't choke on it. He breathed raggedly at the torment of realizing his wife knew about his infidelity. Ash didn't have a second of regret. The man deserved this. Maybe it would wake him up to all he'd surely lose if he didn't get his shit together immediately. He let the man stew for a few seconds, watching his face change as thoughts chased themselves through his mind. Suddenly, it seemed the floor became very interesting. "Why are you telling me all this?" Casey asked without looking up. "Because she needs you, now more than ever. She needs you to open up to her again, to face her when you need her. She needs to hear from you that you don't blame her for your son's death. That you grieve as deeply as she does, even after all this time." Another empty moment or two followed. Then, like a flood that couldn't be held back, Casey began speaking, confessing his life, his reasons that couldn't justify his actions, as though Ash was some priest. How he couldn't sponge off anyone, not even his own wife. How he'd always taken care of himself, taken care of his family. He made his own way. His parents had inadvertently taught him he had to do that—no one else could do it for him. But they'd also programmed him to feel 221

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like he had to take care of everyone around him as well. That he was responsible for their lives. "I was scared. I was so damn scared of having a child. I never told Raven that. I thought about getting a vasectomy after we were married, so it would never become an issue. But we agreed we'd wait, and ... ahh, I don't know why I couldn't go through with it. But then it didn't matter because she got pregnant right away, despite our precautions. I was in terror during her whole pregnancy. That I'd lose her. Something would happen to take her from me. That I couldn't provide for a family. That I'd fail, the way my parents did. The way my own father did. I was afraid to reach out to my own son. I was afraid ... if I loved him too deeply ... he'd reject me." And he had. Casey had seen to that himself when he'd withdrawn. Fearing rejection, he'd ensured it with his behavior. Then he'd had the nerve to be devastated when his son favored his mother. "Oh God, I let her do everything and she never complained once. I told myself they needed me to be a good provider, and that meant succeeding in my work. But she did everything and I was too blind to see how exhausted she was. She never slept. She worked, she took care of Ripley, she took care of the house. She took care of me. I don't know how she did it all, but I insulated myself against feeling responsibility for anything except raking in the money I'd never had before and half believed I'd lose if I didn't work constantly to keep it coming." 222

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Casey stared at the ceiling as though imploring God Himself to hear the depths of his overwhelming guilt. "When my son pushed me away, I thought it was..." Casey vomited a laugh of self-derision. "I thought it was some kind of judgment on me. That I probably should never have had a child. I threw it all away because I was afraid. And, just like I knew, he was taken from me, and I lost them both. I didn't deserve either of them, but I couldn't let go either. I was no better than my parents. I guess I proved that, drinking all the time, just like I promised myself I'd never do. And I knew Sharon was attracted to me. I wasn't thinking when she came to me and offered..." Shaking his head, Casey closed his eyes like he couldn't even bear to have a vision of his sin before his eyes. "She looked like Raven. To my drunk eyes, she looked like Raven on our honeymoon. With all that cinnamon hair, those endless legs. I couldn't even look at her after it was over. She suddenly didn't look anything like the only woman I've ever loved, outside of superficial similarities. I knew without a doubt I was a complete failure at that moment. The best I could hope to do was spend my life making it up to Raven, taking care of her every need. I think I've failed even at that, but it's all I want. Just to convince her to stay here with me. Let me take care of her." Ash stared at the man in disbelief. "Oh? That's really all you want?" Casey drew his gaze to him as though actually confused by Ash's harshness. Tell him, Ash decided. 223

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"Raven's all that matters. You don't have to prove yourself to anybody but her. You need to tell her everything you've told me. Now, before it's too late." "Did she tell you she's going to leave me?" Casey asked, his expression tight with dread. Hell! The bastard was so immersed in his own limited viewpoint, he couldn't see the forest for the trees anymore. Ash sat forward. "Someone shot at your wife yesterday, Casey. They did it in a reckless, uncontrolled way, in her own home, and it speaks volumes. Now someone's broken in here and taken away stuff associated with her past occupation. Don't you get it? Whoever did this has nothing to lose. They want her out of the way, and they'll do whatever they have to insure that. You have to assume she's not their only target. They'll take you out too if they get half the chance. The only protection the two of you have is if you're together. And you won't be together if you've got this wall between you. Tear it down. This minute. Be with her like a man for once, instead of some thick Neanderthal who can't see that the only thing standing between life and death for 'the only woman you've ever loved' is your words. Your commitment to her. What you do now counts, not what you did yesterday." When Ash stood, Casey did too, seemingly without conscious thought. His confusion hadn't waned. Could anyone be so hard-headed? The thought raged in Ash' mind, frustrating him. Despite his vow not to think about it anymore—what was the point— he couldn't help remembering the things he'd told Kirsten, 224

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things he'd promised himself he'd never reveal to anyone, least of all her. Was he as thick as Casey? Was he willing to give up the idea of ever being with Kirsten? It was true their situations were different. He didn't have freedom, the way Casey did. He didn't have the option of falling in love with someone and living happily ever after. In fact, he had very few options. He and Kirsten couldn't have it all. But could they have something? Time to close if off, give the man time to think. Ash touched Casey on the shoulder reassuringly. "Look, I know much better than you think I could how you feel about what's happened to you, to Raven. Maybe you can sense that, because obviously you'd rather talk to me about those damned files and the laptop than to the cops. Best advice I can offer you is to be very careful—stay in the house as secure as you can get, and keep Raven with you. Kris and I are close by. Just keep your heads down, okay?" Casey nodded. He turned, and Casey followed him out to the foyer, murmuring, to Ash's surprise, "We'd like you and Kris to come over for dinner tonight. Around seven thirty?" Ash turned to him, leaning closer so he was right in Casey's face—something that was clearly an aversion for Casey. Yet for some reason, he didn't pull back when Ash said with emphasis, "Talk to her, Casey. Now. Don't be stupid."

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Chapter 27 Kirsten was only a block from home when her phone went off. Getting out of the office today had been nearly impossible. Every time she started to gather her things, someone came in and dumped more work on her desk. It was nearly seven o'clock. She'd been waiting for Ash to call for the last few hours, inquiring what was delaying her. She hadn't even had time to check in, but she knew if anything happened he'd call her. "Ash?" she asked. "Where are you?" "Almost home. The presentation went so well, I couldn't get away." "That's good news at least." "Anything happening?" "Depends on your point of view. I couldn't wait any more to talk to you." His voice was both soft and intense. Kirsten felt a lump in her throat and tried to swallow it away. "About what?" But she knew. She didn't have a doubt. "To find out how you are." "Angelo told you." "This morning. I wish you'd called me." Ignoring his concern, she took a deep breath, trying to keep herself on a professional level if he couldn't. "It makes it harder for us, a lot harder, but we're gonna do our job. We're not going to lose the Harris'." 226

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When she turned down toward the block the Griepentrog and Harris homes were on, she saw Ash standing in the open maw of the garage with his phone to his ear. "No, we're not. But you still haven't told me how you are." Kirsten cut their phone connection and gunned into the empty slot in the garage. She couldn't deal with him on a personal level right now. Not when she'd spent over ten hours remembering the kiss he'd given her before she left that morning. Remembering, re-living... He opened the car door for her, and she stepped out with the heavy case full of work she needed to do tonight. Without looking at him, she demanded, "Brief me on today." She walked straight toward the doorway that led into the house, feeling him behind her with the force of a magnet toward steel. "We're having dinner with the Harris' in less than a half hour. You better get ready." "Fine. Grab the earpiece, and you can brief me while I shower." Knowing if she looked at him, she might see hurt or, worse, tenderness, she dropped her case on the counter and headed back to the shower. By the time Ash appeared, she was undressed, under the spray, but no more prepared for her own shakiness. Her entire body felt unstable—with both anticipation and dread—as Ash briefed her on what Casey had told him about Raven's job, their marriage, his overwhelming sense of failure as a father, his ignorance of Reb Porter's current location. His frustration over Casey's infuriating unwillingness to stop being a coward and talk to his wife. 227

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Kirsten could hear the anger in Ash's voice as he said that Casey was 'still running around, caring for her like she's a child instead of his wife, the one he claims is the only woman he's ever loved'. Kirsten dropped the bottle of shampoo, and Ash asked if everything was all right. She found it hard to get out the word, 'Fine'. He was distressed. Ash was as involved, personally involved, with this op as she was. Why did that make everything she was feeling—couldn't feel—all the more precarious? Damn him. Levelly, she said, "We need to get them thinking about connections. Between her career and her son's death, and Reb Porter's wife's death." When she turned off the flow of water and pushed back the curtain, she realized she hadn't gotten herself a towel. Ash held one, though, and her breathing locked in her throat like a choking hazard as he brought it to her and didn't bother to hide his reaction to her body. She raised her arms to squeeze the water from her hair, trying to act as though she wasn't affected in the least by him. "You want them to be happy, too, don't you?" she asked because, at the moment, it was the only thing she could cope with. "It's not our job to reconcile them, but you want to help them just like I do." She plucked the towel from him, but he didn't step back. Just replied to her comment. "It doesn't have anything to do with our mission here. Angelo won't ask when we're debriefed." 228

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She'd considered it herself. If she admitted she was trying to help Raven and Casey reconcile their marriage in a brief and assessment report, she'd be subject to the scrutiny of the heads of the Network. Mission parameters certainly didn't cover solving the problem of the Harris' failing marriage. "Angelo and McKee don't need to know anything that happens outside our alpha mission," Ash said softly. Kirsten realized belatedly that he was bringing her forward, out of the shower stall, into his arms. And he was no longer talking only about Raven and Casey. "As long as we do our job, that's all they need to know." "Ash," she gasped, helplessly looking at his lips, lips capable of such pleasure. Healing. She'd never forgotten what it was like to be captive to that mouth. Willing, eager, desperate for what only he could give her. "Ash, they're watching." She kept her voice a whisper, as if it couldn't be picked up by the Network. "They're listening. They always are." On a mission, even a deep cover one, that was a given. When operatives were on personal downtime, there was no way to know when the Network would be doing surveillance on them. Ash shook his head, easing her towel out from between them and tossing it away without watching where it landed. His dark eyes never left hers. "They don't have the resources right now to watch us and the Harris'." Kirsten wasn't so sure about that. She'd been caught offguard more than once by the Networks' ability to focus on an area that required nearly all their resources, only to discover later that they'd been watching her every move as though 229

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waiting for her to do something she knew was forbidden. Because an operative never knew when they'd be evaluated for a weakness or their motives called into question, they had to be on guard at all times about what they said and did. Even gaining Level 3 status—a monumental feat in itself— didn't relieve them of that necessity. "I realized something, listening to that bull-headed husband of Raven's, today. We can't have it all, Kirsten. We can't have most of the things I'd like to have with you. Things that other people have the luxury of indulging in because they're free. We can't have the fairy tale. But we can have something." Surprising even herself, tears scorched her eyes fiercely as she shook her head in stunned silence. But she couldn't push him away, she couldn't force herself to escape or be cool and level-headed. Not when he was stroking the line of her jaw, his hard body just touching her bare skin and making her want ... oh God, making her want the fairy tale she could never have. "Ash, don't do this," she whispered harshly. As he tipped his head toward hers, Kirsten closed her eyes, agonizing in the lifetime it took for his mouth to touch hers. Her fingers felt incapable of coordination as she reached for him, clutched at him. His lips touched hers and she rediscovered life. His hunger matched hers in a groan forcing a sob out of her throat. He lifted her for an instant, found what he was looking for in the wide bathroom counter, and set her on it. Then he devoured her in a kiss that made her weep as her fingers slid into his short hair so she could hold him to her. 230

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I love him. I've loved him for so many years. And I can't. I shouldn't. But I can't stop it either. "Oh Ash, yes..." she sobbed when his hands captured her bare breasts and he looked at them with utter reverence. She couldn't imagine how she could be so incredibly sensitive, but her nipples hardened into fiery points and the heaviness of her breasts drew up tightly. He caressed her, drove her to sheer madness as he used fingertips, palms and the cradle of his hands to pleasure her as he ravenously watched himself play. Kirsten rubbed him through his jeans, remembering poignantly those few moments he'd been inside her. Once. A memory she'd told herself would have to last a lifetime, even if it killed her each time she recalled it. He growled her name, shoving his hand past hers to give himself relief from the confines of the denim. The zipper rasped, and he sighed. When she curled her hand around his arousal, he lifted his head, allowing himself one moment of pure ecstasy as she stroked him. Then he dipped his head toward her She couldn't have imagined that having larger breasts could feel any different, but Ash's mouth seemed to be everywhere, all at once. Forcing her eyes open, she watched him suck at her with tongue and teeth and lips, his hands curled around as much of the fullness as he could take in. It was completely illogical, but she couldn't help feeling sexy in a way she never had before. The sheer feminine satisfaction she felt while her body coiled and she watched him bury his 231

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face in her breasts was beyond anything she'd ever experienced in the past. Kirsten whimpered as she thrust herself against his mouth. She gasped in joy when his fingers touched her. She arched her back on the counter to give him free access. At that moment, she couldn't have refused him anything. All that mattered was the frenzy he created inside her. She moaned his name as she felt the tension breaking over her. He lifted her suddenly, and she instinctively cried out and wrapped her arms and legs around him. "No," she begged. "Don't stop." "Hold on to me," he ordered hoarsely. When he carried her to the living room, then lowered her onto the plush carpeting, she realized it'd never been his intention to escape this. "I miss those jade-green eyes," he murmured as she sat up, pulling him back down with her. "I missed how drugged they look when you come in my arms." Kirsten swallowed at the intensity in his expression. She touched his face, remembering the contours and noticing the slight differences. I want to be swept away in fantasy. I don't want to think about anything except this. "Make love to me, Ash," she murmured, bringing his mouth back to hers. Forget. Feel. Just once more. One more precious memory to last a lifetime. A sweet one this time that won't burn me and destroy me when I recall it. His body eased slightly off of her, his fingers stroking again. Kirsten groaned. Her legs fell back in complete surrender. 232

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His mouth left her swollen one, brushing her ear, and he whispered roughly, "I've wanted you for six years, baby. Let me." Kirsten was aroused to the point of pain, and she made no move whatsoever to stop him from easing down her body. Her hips lifted to him wantonly with the first kiss against her abdomen. His hungry growl nearly undid her as he worked his mouth lower. Then she did move. She couldn't help moving as she offered herself completely to him, to the spiral of sensation making her lose all control. His succinct murmurs of approval and encouragement drew her hands into clenched fists. Helpless cries escaped her as she drove toward that one point of light that promised both release and healing. Only Ash could bring her there. Only he ever had. The instant the tension broke and waves of undulating pleasure made her whole body shudder violently, she was insane for him. She dragged him up, straining ... grasping, freeing him, mumbling words that only made sense to her in mind pictures. "Come inside me, Ash. Make love to me. Now. Please. The way I've wanted you to. Always. You. No one else. No one but you." His eyes rolled back into his head in ecstasy when she held and then eased herself down onto him. Realizing he was almost there himself made her lose her mind a little more. "No one else? Not even him?" he panted. The vulnerable look in his eyes freed her tears. He'd looked just this way after the deed was done in the locker room, just before he'd fled. He looked devastated by their simultaneous blend of passion and loss. 233

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She understood now what he'd felt all those times he'd seen her with Roan. How he must have felt seeing her in this act with another man if he'd wanted her for himself. In a place where love wasn't possible, he'd felt things for her that were far out of their reach. Kirsten drew his head down to her, kissed him and held him. "No one, Ash. Just you. My whole life, you're the only man I can't forget. I've tried not to even admit it to myself, how much you mean to me." His eyes slid closed, but he turned and kissed the palm of her hand in a gesture of reverent humility. Blindly, he found her mouth again, and then he pushed himself inside her fully. Gasping, she wrapped her legs around his waist and rocked against him. He looked like conqueror as the power of his years of desiring her took over. He looked like a man who'd gotten what he'd spent a lifetime pursuing. All Kirsten wanted was for him to claim her and make her his own. Together, they groaned as their bodies clashed, driving them faster and harder as they reached for the ultimate joining. Kirsten reached it an instant before he did, and she sobbed gratefully as he shouted her name, his seed filling her with wondrous, scorching heat. His eyes were closed tightly in the agony of fulfillment. But they opened with an abruptness that told her something was wrong. Only then did she hear the perimeter alarms going off. Ash swore in fury, unwilling to pull himself back but knowing they had no choice. He lifted a little, and Kirsten's violently contracting body instinctively tried to prevent it as all her muscles tightened 234

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around him, and his head went up with a groan. His body continued to pulse inside her. "Kirsten, dammit..." The doorbell rang. "Shit, shit, shit," he muttered thickly. It required all her willpower to let him pull out. He was no more capable of controlling his physical response than she was, but he struggled to his feet, telling her to put on his jacket thrown over the sofa. He went to the video cameras and scanned them. "Raven. She set off the alarms coming here. She's at the door," he told her, keying the acknowledgment code into the system to quiet the alarm. "Nothing else on the perimeter or inside?" she asked in a hushed tone, struggling into the light Anorak jacket. "No. I don't see anything." The jacket was just barely long enough to cover her. Kirsten didn't want to answer the door, but she had no choice. Ash's situation was a hell of a lot worse than hers at the moment as he ducked into the bathroom. What have we done? Kirsten rushed to the door the instant she had the jacket zipped. Standing with the door in front of her, hiding her, she opened it. Just as Ash had said, Raven Harris stood on their steps, a wide-open target. Before Kirsten could say a word, the other woman said, "I just wanted to make sure you knew Casey's invitation was fine with me. It was from both of us." Because Kirsten couldn't allow Raven to be a sitting duck, she drew her inside the house and closed the door. Raven's surprise and reluctance were evident, but it wasn't until she 235

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turned around and saw Kirsten in nothing but the hastily donned jacket that her usual wariness came to full-blown life. She whirled away to face the living room, shrieking, "Oh God! I'm ... I didn't...." Kris Weston wouldn't be more than slightly embarrassed by this situation, Kirsten reminded herself. She did what she had to do. She laughed. The flush still claiming her from head to toe would certainly do the rest. "You caught us, but ... we're finished. We were just about to get up when the doorbell rang." Kirsten's gaze met Ash's when he emerged at that moment from the hall. He already had a new shirt on and was tugging on the zipper of fresh jeans. Kirsten's flush doubled, an almost debilitating contraction went through her, as his gaze slid down her body in fierce, unfinished hunger. She could barely swallow past her mixed up emotions at seeing it because she didn't recognize an ounce of regret in him ... outside of regret that they hadn't finished. Maybe it was an act. Part of his role as Nate Weston. She couldn't be unmuddled about the whole thing at the moment. Hell, she wished they could have finished, too, but it never should have happened in the first place. They'd endangered Raven and Casey's lives. Anything could have happened. And that wasn't something they could do again. Next time they might not be so lucky. Blushing deeply, Raven turned toward Kirsten again, her gaze averted as she rushed toward the door.

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"Why don't you go with her, honey?" Kirsten said pointedly to Ash, noting that he was already closing the gap between them. "It'll just take me a minute to throw some clothes on." "No, I'll just go. You two can come over later," Raven insisted frantically. She crossed the threshold and kept going at a half run. "It's all right, Raven!" Kirsten tried and failed to reassure anyone. As Ash passed her, he touched her face, sharing a look that encompassed everything they'd just done. Kirsten couldn't believe the anger she saw at their interruption. How could he not regret this? How could he not be thinking the same thing she was thinking? They were royally screwed, no matter what their bodies still wanted. He knew he had to follow Raven. At least he was thinking clearly on that point. They couldn't leave her out in the open with no protection a second time. Alone, Kirsten rushed to the bedroom to dress. She wanted to cry, but—now of all times—she became excruciatingly aware that the Network could be watching. It certainly didn't help her state of mind that the slightest brush against her over-sensitized nipples as she desperately tried to close a bra over her swollen breasts and the abrasion of panties led to more deep contractions. She could only imagine how Ash felt right now. How in the hell could they explain this if they were called on the carpet for it? They'd been instructed to simulate a happily married couple, to make it look real, for appearance 237

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sake. Inside this house, when the two of them were alone, showing any affection at all for each other was out of bounds. Kirsten's senses burned as she considered whether what she and Ash had done was worth losing her position in the Network. She couldn't imagine what their superiors would do if they knew. Though there was no freedom in the Network, there were degrees of status. Right now, she had privileges that anyone below her didn't enjoy. Forms of personal freedom. Certainly, her Level 3 status would be revoked. She'd be put on simple missions she was classes above. She and Ash wouldn't be on the same team anymore at the very least, that was for sure. She didn't care about a pay decrease or a less-than-luxury apartment. They would monitor her constantly, on every mission. She didn't want that. Within and without the compound, she wouldn't be able to breathe without having to explain herself and her motives. She'd worked damn hard to get where she was, and the last thing she wanted to do was go back. She didn't expect everything with Ash. They both knew it was out of the realm of possibility for them to have a serious relationship. To form a visible commitment. But to have something ... some small thing with him, even if it meant sneaking around to be with him—was that worth the risk of alerting the Network to their feelings for each other? Was it worth worse than that? After Andy Sheppard and Rosalia Clark had done the unthinkable, marrying secretly, having a child they had to hide in the shadows, the Network had locked down like she'd never seen before. Everyone's movements became restricted 238

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without direct orders. The organization could certainly dole out an even worse punishment than stripping them of their status. Though Angelo would fight it, there was a chance that they could be evaluated, set against each other, and the winner got the gift of an imprisoned life while the loser... Kirsten's breath hung suspended in her throat. Much as she couldn't imagine Angelo allowing it, he was only 3rd in Command at present. If McKee was anywhere near as ruthless as Jameson, she could cancel one of them to punish the other and make sure their loyalty never strayed again. It'd never happened before, but death wasn't outside the realm of possibility. She didn't want to die. She'd been a survivor all her life. She sure as hell couldn't allow Ash to die for love. Only one choice remained: They had to stop this. Now. The stakes were far too high. Even Ash had to admit that.

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Chapter 28 Ash hadn't looked at her once since she'd arrived at the Harris' door. If ever there was a fickle emotion, Kirsten deemed it love. How stupid was it to make a decision to cut them off completely and then have the nerve to be hurt when he wouldn't acknowledge her? She knew as well as Ash did that if he looked at her, if their eyes met, she'd be right back where they'd been before Raven interrupted them tonight. That was probably why Ash wouldn't look at her. He didn't want to take the risk of feeling too much right now either. Confusion—only for a moment—as Ash's gaze met hers, then defiant coldness. "You mean absolutely nothing to me," those ice blue eyes told her. "I hope you're not stupid enough to believe it did mean something." Without a single word, he told her she meant no more to him than any other operative. Or an enemy. Sitting at the dining room table, a chill went Kirsten as she recalled how he'd treated her the first time they were in a room together after they'd made love following the Vegas mission. Made love and then he'd left her without looking back. Remembering that strengthened her resolve. Whatever they'd started tonight, it had to end there. It could never happen again. Surreptitiously, she glanced across the table at Ash and found him again ignoring her. When Kirsten considered that once they left here and went back to the mission post he 240

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might treat her the way he had back then ... hell, she would haul off on him and break every bone in his body if he did that. "Barb said the preliminary pitch went well," Casey said in the silence. Kirsten was so wrapped in her own thoughts, she couldn't tell if there was an awkwardness among the four of them. She nodded, smiling. "The client was extremely enthusiastic about our preliminary ideas. They were sold—hook, line and sinker." And all she'd wanted to do was get back here. Casey nodded, impressed as he said Barb had told him the same. Another pause fell over the table, and this time Kirsten felt the tension. Casey and Raven were grateful enough for the help they'd provided but it clearly didn't make them feel any more inclined to come out their shells. Broaching the subject wasn't going to get any easier, so Kirsten started it. "I've been thinking about your career, Raven, and Nate did a bit of checking for me. Research is something he does very well because of his writing. He was able to obtain the transcripts for your radio program, as well as newspaper clippings of the accidents. Combine these with the things you and Casey have said, the fact that the boxes and laptop are missing..." Both of the Harris' were frowning as though they were confused by any connection between all the things she'd mentioned.

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"Do you have any idea how long those boxes and your laptop were missing?" Ash asked of Raven, who shook her head immediately. "I don't go into the storage room often. I put the boxes in there ... and I forgot them. I don't go into the den, so I never noticed my laptop wasn't in the armoire. But I don't see how they could be gone. I haven't left the house much, and we have a security system." "Home security systems can be circumvented very easily by someone who knows what they're doing," Ash said. Raven and Casey looked at each other in horror. "Someone was in here with my wife and she didn't even know it?" The probability of that was certain, given that Kirsten and Ash had set it up to look that way. Raven and Casey looked almost sick with fear. Kirsten had no choice but to bring that fear home even more. "So the boxes and the laptop could have been missing for quite a while and you wouldn't have known it. You weren't kidding about the controversial nature of some of your and Reb's exposés. What really stood out was that last radio program that aired. Reb believed this nameless man was the one who killed his politician father. He believed him responsible for many other crimes. I don't know if I buy a secret government organization. Frankly, I doubt anyone could cover up something like that in this information age. But how do you know this man wasn't as on to you as you and Reb were on to him?" "What do you mean?" Raven asked. "Did he ever see you?" 242

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Raven glanced at Ash as if he was the one she was most comfortable with. Kirsten was sure Casey noticed that fact as well as she did. Raven shook her head, but her uncertainty kept it from being definitive. "Both Reb and I followed him, together or separately. I don't think he ever saw us ... Well, that one time on the Navy Pier, but, I mean, he had no way of knowing I was there for any reason except lunch." "What happened?" Kirsten demanded when Raven just sat staring like she was a million miles away. "It was a Thursday. Ripley was in school. Reb had some interview, so he couldn't go with me. This man always appeared as though out of nowhere on—" Kirsten didn't dare glance at Ash upon Raven's revelation of a street they both well knew. ETI, the business that provided a legitimate front for the Network compound, was right near that area of Central Chicago. Ideally, the 2nd in Command was supposed to be invisible to the world. He wasn't supposed to leave ETI's skyscraper without a shadow team to keep him moving invisibly from point A to point B. It sounded as though Jameson had been roaming outside alone without a convoy—frequently. "That was where we usually started trailing him. This day, I followed him to the Navy Pier and took a table near him. I had my back to him, but I heard his conversation with another man. A dark haired man Reb and I later identified as Michael Terranzo, a known criminal. In any case, they talked about 'destroying the organization', moving very carefully and slowly. What I overheard that day was the culmination of all the research Reb and I had done on this nameless man, and I 243

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was so excited, I went to the nearest phone and called Reb. When I turned around, he was right there behind me. I ran right into him—our nameless man, but he was smiling and apologized, asking if I was done with the phone. Since he was so pleasant and I hadn't mentioned anyone by name when I was on the phone to Reb, I didn't think he could have possibly known I was talking about him. My only thought was meeting with Reb to tell him everything." Ash's glance met Kirsten's. It was starkly obvious that Jameson had known Raven had been talking about him, and he'd recognized her from her radio program. He must have realized that she and her partner had spent years following him at that point, especially when their program aired the next day. He'd had no choice but to silence them, and quickly. Despite the controversial subjects she'd researched and reported on, Raven was a complete innocent. She had no idea of the danger she'd gotten herself into. Tamping down her frustration on Raven's obliviousness to what was right before her eyes, Kirsten reached across the table and took the other woman's hand. "Raven, don't you see any connection between these events? If this man was on to you and Reb, when your program discussing him the next day aired he had to put a stop to it. If he'd gone directly after you and Reb, there would have been a link made between the subject of your final program and your deaths. The credibility of that program would have gone through the roof. He shut the two of you up the only way he could." 244

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"Ripley's death," Casey said in a strange, strangled whisper. "Your son was run over—a hit and run, a seeming accident—the day after the program aired, and Porter's wife was in another accident, this time a car accident with no witnesses, only a week later," Ash said gently. "These things weren't coincidences." Raven's mouth opened; no words came forth. She tried to stand like she wanted to run from the implication, but she fell back in the chair, her eyes rolling. Kirsten got to her first and pushed her head down between her knees to keep her from losing consciousness. "Why now?" Casey asked miserably. "Why would this man come back for Raven now, six years after?" "We can't know everything for sure," Ash answered as Kirsten consoled a now softly sobbing Raven, "but I'd say it's a pretty fair guess he couldn't risk getting rid of the two of you right away. No one would ever make a connection between that program and Reb and Raven's deaths now. Especially since Reb seems to have disappeared." Raven's head came up, alarm making her eyes even more crazed. "Is he dead?" "I don't know. Do you know how to contact him? Do you know where he'd go if he isn't in the city?" "I haven't seen him..." She looked at Ash in wordless plea, clearly asking him not to tell Casey what she'd admitted to him about seeing Reb two years ago. At the moment, it didn't seem appropriate to mention he already had talked to Casey about it. "It's been so long." 245

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"Do you think we should try to call him?" Kirsten asked. "Do you think you could do that, Raven?" When she nodded, Ash picked up the cordless phone on the kitchen wall and brought it to her. She dialed. After a long minute, she spoke awkwardly to what was obviously an answering machine. She disconnected, shaking her head. "I don't think he's there." The Network knew he hadn't been anywhere near his last known residence for some time. A new tenant had moved in, in fact. "Do you know where else he might be?" Breathing raggedly, Raven thought about it, finally murmuring, "My brother might know." She lifted the phone again and dialed. "His phone is busy, which means he's there. He's probably with someone," she said, still listening to the tone. "He doesn't have an answering machine?" "No. He hates them." She disconnected and set the phone on the table. "Maybe Casey and I could go there and see if he knows anything," Ash suggested. "I don't want to leave—" Casey started. "Kris used to work as a bodyguard for some of the rich and famous while she was in college," Ash told him firmly. "She still works out almost every day. Raven will be safe with her. We won't be gone long." Reluctantly, Casey stood at Ash's persuasion, going to his wife. "Will you be all right here, darling?" He didn't touch her. 246

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Kirsten had the wild urge to force the two of them into each other's arms. Raven nodded. Ash's gaze met Kirsten's, and they exchanged unspoken encouragement to do what they could to get the spouses to open up while they had them separated. When the men went out, Kirsten urged Raven to her feet, putting an arm around her. "Come on, let's go into the living room. It'll be more comfortable there." "Do you really think Ripley was deliberately killed?" Raven asked before they'd even made it that far. "I think it's a very good possibility you should accept. You can't afford not to." Kirsten helped her sit on the plush suede sofa before making herself comfortable in another chair. "Then it's my fault," Raven whispered. "He would be alive now if it wasn't for me. If I hadn't needed to have it all—" She choked on the sob that visibly worked its way up into her throat. "You didn't kill him, Raven, any more than you killed Reb Porter's wife. You had a dangerous career. I'm not sure you realized how dangerous it was at the time. If you had realized it, I think you would have drawn back for your son's sake." "I was so stupid. How could I have not seen? I never made the slightest connection." "You were overwhelmed with grief. That's all you could cope with at that time. And who thinks a nameless man can harm you, especially..." Kirsten deliberately trailed off, and Raven picked it up immediately, asking her to finish her thought. 247

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"It's not an insult. Please don't take it that way. It's just that from what Nate dug up on it, the consensus was that the Straight Up! program wasn't respected among the general public. Most people thought it was a lot of hype, a lot of paranoia, seeing conspiracies everywhere. So who would think this nameless man would take it seriously enough to start killing people over it? The two of you didn't even know the name of this guy. It wasn't like anyone could go after him, trying to get a case against him or anything." "God, you're logical," Raven said as though coughing out the shock filling her throat. "And I'm tired of hearing that about Straight Up! Suffice it to say, the radio station had different ideas about how to present our stories than we did." "Yeah, I bet. I'm sorry if I've offended you." "It's all right. I should be used to it." "Well, I'm used to people telling me how logical I am," Kirsten said with a smile. "You can't think of anywhere your partner would go to hide out?" Raven put her head in her hands, shaking it. After a moment of silence, Kirsten pushed herself up. "Why don't I get us some coffee and dessert. Stay here." Raven didn't look up or respond. Kirsten knew she needed some time alone. And she needed to find another strategy to get Raven to open up to her. Pouring coffee into the silver carafe on the counter and arranging cups and plates of raspberry pie slathered with whipped crème on a tray, Kirsten worked up a new plan to change the subject and possibly get Raven thinking about the here and now instead of the past. She walked slowly across 248

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the Mexican tile of the foyer, trying to access Raven's state of mind on her way to the living room. Strangely, when she carried the coffee back into the living room, Raven was sitting up, not in tears, just staring straight ahead as though she'd realized something that gave her strength. Kirsten wouldn't have expected it of her, but she had a good feeling Raven had spent six years agonizing over why her son had been taken from her. She'd wanted a reason beyond that an accident had occurred—some random, cosmic event that had no reason or purpose. There was someone to blame now, not necessarily herself. While it wouldn't help her to get mired in that blame, moving past the anger and futility of fighting against something as ethereal as a 'random accident' was a positive step toward healing. "I've been hoping to get a chance to talk to you alone," Kirsten said as she set the tray on the coffee table and began serving. Raven made no move to take it, but she looked up suspiciously at her, asking "Why?" without tact. Kirsten grinned, sitting down and taking her filled coffee cup with her. "Well, advertising's a male-dominated world, even if it is the twenty-first century. I enjoy it, it's in my blood, but I miss having the fellowship of other women. I miss shopping and staying up all night, sharing secrets and talking about men and feelings and sex." The mention of sex had exactly the affect Kirsten hoped on Raven. She blushed, looking embarrassed again the way she had when she showed up next door hours ago. "Stop being embarrassed about catching me and Nate," Kirsten insisted in a friendly way. "So you caught us in the 249

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act. It was bound to happen sooner or later. When he touches me I stop thinking about anything, even common decency." Kirsten was uncomfortably aware she wasn't lying. She and Ash had made love the first time in a locker room they— very newly—shared with other Level 3 and higher operatives. Someone could have walked in at anytime. And Kirsten was well aware that, even within the compound, operatives were watched closely, though possibly not constantly there, which was the only explanation for why she and Ash hadn't been reprimanded for their behavior. Tonight, they'd either escaped the notice of the Network because, as Ash claimed, they didn't have the resources to watch them and the Harris', or they'd be severely reproved after the mission for it. Kirsten hadn't been thinking about consequences either time. All she'd cared about was being with Ash. Once. Maybe for all time. When Raven lowered her gaze, reached for the coffee she didn't make any effort to drink, Kirsten nodded in understanding. "Oh, you're worried about the kiss." Raven's hollow cheeks flushed a deep red. "Nate told you?" "Why wouldn't he?" "He didn't do anything wrong. He had no reason to explain himself to anyone. It was my fault. I was upset—" "It's all right, Raven," Kirsten consoled, not feeling as generous as she knew she had to be. She hadn't wanted to consider it at the time, but her reaction to Ash's confession had been all about jealousy, not so much about unjustifiably expanding mission parameters, the way she'd tried to make it out. The thought of Ash with another woman shouldn't bother 250

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her. She knew he didn't have feelings for Raven any more than he did for the women he'd had to use in the line of duty. "You'll never have to worry about Nate," Raven said, and Kirsten saw tears in her eyes. "I've seen the way he looks at you. I've seen the way he kisses you and touches you. It's as if everything else in the world disappears when the two of you are together." The memories were too close for Kirsten to ask casual or blasé questions about them, the way Kris Weston would. She couldn't say how long she and Ash had been making love earlier tonight, she couldn't claim to know anything except what she'd felt, how he'd felt, the intensity between them. "You mean when you saw us on the deck?" she said softly, and Raven nodded. "I'm sorry. I couldn't get myself not to watch when I saw the two of you together. I'm so embarrassed. I can't seem to help myself. I can't seem to forget what it's like, and yet I don't think it'll ever happen for me again." "What do you mean?" Kirsten asked as Raven set down her cup, splashing coffee heedlessly on the table. "I watched Elliot and Mya. They used to make love on their deck late at night. Every Saturday night, after Phillip and Jenna were in bed. The first time I saw them was about a year after Ripley ... I couldn't look away, no matter how ashamed I was at being a voyeur. Seeing two people, so in love, enjoying each other. Pleasuring each other. It's unlike anything else. I started to look forward to it every week. God, that sounds even sicker out in the open." 251

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Kirsten couldn't imagine what horrible guilt had allowed Raven to admit her fixation to her, someone who was practically a stranger, but the confession gave her the 'in' she'd been looking for. "I don't mean to pry, but I've watched you and Casey, too. I can feel there's something between you, something fragile, too tender. You both seem so afraid of each other." If possible, Raven's humiliation seemed to grow. "Nate told you." "No. He didn't tell me anything about you and Casey, I swear. This is just me, analyzing everything as usual. I've observed it. After you lost your child, I can't imagine how it affected your marriage. But I can see the two of you aren't healing, alone or together. Casey treats you like you're so delicate, you could break with the wrong handling. He's terrified of breaking you." "He blames me for Ripley's death." "That doesn't make sense." "It's the only thing that makes sense!" Raven burst out, and Kirsten stayed quiet to allow her to say what she needed to. "When we first met, those first few years of being married, I've never been in love like that before. Everything was just insane with Reb and the other men I'd been with. With Casey, God, there could be no comparison. Every time he made love to me, it was like the earth moved beneath me. Like Heaven itself rejoiced with us. He touched me like I was something to be worshipped, and he was humbled I would allow him, a mere mortal, to give me so much pleasure." Raven laughed, but the pain was still too fresh for her to let it go any further. 252

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"His eyes never left mine. I never realized how much that meant to me. Now it's all changed. Months go by when he won't touch me at all, then he'll come for me out of nowhere. But never in our bed. He never faces me. I never see his eyes. He takes me from behind, like he can't bear to face me. And I'm so damn needy, I'll take anything he gives me before he flees like a criminal from the scene of his crime." Kirsten's throat hurt at the horrifying memory she'd witnessed from the monitors next door, the last time Casey had uncontrollably gone to his wife for relief and demarcation of his territory. "I feel so ashamed when he leaves me. I feel dirty. Used and worthless to him. Sometimes I think I couldn't have really known him at all. That everything he told me, everything he said he never told a single other person, was all a lie. A trick to get me to fall for him. Because I don't know him. I don't know this man I'm married to. He's a stranger. Do you know what it's like to be taken like that by a stranger who disappears the second it's over?" "God," Kirsten muttered, her eyes filled with tears. She got up and went to Raven, who looked at her in surprise when she sat next to her and took her hand. "Why don't you talk to him about these things, Raven? He needs to know." Raven swallowed, looking away. "He cheated on me. It was only once, but it meant everything. He gave someone else what he promised would be mine alone, forever." Kirsten understood now. Raven was dying because of her own guilt and her belief that her husband believed she 253

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deserved the guilt. Yet she was so angry at him for his betrayal of her, his cruel mockery of the love they'd shared when he came to her helplessly, that she couldn't make the effort to save their relationship. She wanted him to pay for his infidelity and silence for the past six years. Putting an arm around her, Kirsten was surprised when Raven let her close enough to try comforting her. She seemed embarrassed, nevertheless, when Kirsten drew back and lifted her chin. "Raven, what would you do if Casey felt the same overwhelming guilt for not being there for you and your son? If he felt like he couldn't add to your grief by letting you know how devastated he was when your son was taken from you? What would you do if you knew he couldn't forgive himself for his indiscretion? It makes sense that he can't look at you because he's ashamed of himself, but he still wants you. He still loves you and wants to make love with you, but he's afraid he's destroyed your feelings for him. Maybe he still wants to find what the two of you lost when your son died." Raven's unfaltering brown eyes proved her reluctance to consider anything except what she'd always told herself had to be the truth. She shook her head. "Okay then," Kirsten said, keeping her frustration out of her voice, "There's no justification for Casey's infidelity. But let me ask you this: If you were to die tonight, would you want to tell him you've always loved him? Would you want to know that nothing else matters in the world to him except you? Can you tell me you don't want that? Because I wouldn't believe you if you did." Reluctantly, Raven glanced back at her. 254

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"That's what it comes down to now, Raven: Someone wants you dead. They may try to get Casey out of the way so they have a clear shot at you. I hope they don't succeed, but do you really want it to end this way between you and Casey? Would that satisfy you?" Raven put her head in her hands, choking on a sob, as she admitted, "I'm so afraid of letting go after all this time. What can I say to him that could make everything all right? To bring us back to where we were?" "Nothing. There's nothing that's going to heal everything all at once, but you can make a start. Take a step. You can say one thing. You can try." Raven looked straight ahead as she said in a cold voice that didn't seem natural for her. "I ... I want him to cry. I want to see him cry the way I have. To suffer. I want to see his tears. Isn't that the worst thing you've ever heard? I can't seem to help it. But I think I could forgive him everything if he gives me that." Kirsten's frustration was overwhelming as she stared at the stubborn woman. She did understand how Raven felt. What else could she say to change the betrayal Raven felt? Kirsten understood all about impossibilities. About wanting to see someone suffer half as much as you had. About being afraid to break down walls that were built out of logic, even justification. About the necessity of never taking risks because there was far too much to lose. Kirsten understood all about the things people did just to survive another day.

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Chapter 29 Rusty Pujotes lived in a deluxe apartment in Central Chicago—a home that defied the fact the nearly forty-year-old man didn't even have a steady job. Ash had gone over enough background on Rusty—Raven's brother—to know that the man did occasional consultations for restaurant owner wanna-be's and that he'd filled many roles in his parents' five-star Chicago restaurant, Pujotes, but he didn't work more often than he did at his trades. As Raven had predicted, Rusty wasn't alone. The look of disgust on Casey's face when they heard the giggle from somewhere inside the apartment reminded Ash of how critical he'd been of young Raven's very adult relationship with Reb Porter. Apparently, both Rusty and Reb had a penchant for jail-bait. Rusty had been involved in several scandals involving women half his age. While Ash and Casey waited for their knock to be heeded, Ash wondered how Kirsten was getting on with Raven. But the thought of Kirsten ... and earlier ... made his stomach twist in knots once more. He'd done his job tonight, but only because he'd been trained to. Keeping his focus off Kirsten had been the only way he could get through it. All he wanted was another five minutes, more like a lifetime, with Kirsten. He knew he couldn't have that. Desperate as he was, he'd take damn near anything he could get. He just couldn't accept nothing. Somehow, they'd have to find a way because the alternative wasn't an option. 256

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The apartment door opened after a long delay, and Ash lowered the hand he'd raised to knock once more. Rusty looked similar to the person in the photo Ash had seen of Reb Porter—not fat, not thin; not tall, not short; with long, dark hair and a scruffy, unshaven face. After glancing at Ash with a look of confusion, Rusty greeted his brother-in-law with obviously feigned friendliness. Ash wondered if Raven had disappointed her family by marrying the decidedly anal Casey. Had her parents preferred Reb Porter for her? Clearly, Rusty had and did. "Rusty, this is Nate Weston. We were hoping to talk to you about Reb Porter." The overly jovial expression on Rusty's face disappeared in a heartbeat. "Reb? What do you wanna know about Reb? Not as if the two of you ever had any love-loss." "Do you mind if we come in?" Ash asked, glancing around the albeit-deserted hallway. After a long moment of contemplation, Rusty murmured, "Give me a second." He closed the door, and Ash and Casey looked at each other. The door opened again just as abruptly and a woman who must have dressed in no time at all emerged. Her dress was off-center, and she carried her shoes in her hand. If she was older than nineteen, Ash would have been shocked. She waved back at Rusty with disappointment on her pouting lips, mouthing a little desperately, "Call me."

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Rusty opened the door wider to allow them in. Waiting just long enough for them to sit down, he demanded, "What's going on?" Ash let Casey explain the situation—the attempt on Raven's life, the connection between the exposé and the death of Ridley and Porter's wife, and, finally, Raven's missing computer and files. Deeply disturbed, Rusty said nothing in the stretch of silence that followed. Before Ash asked, he felt sure Rusty knew something about Porter's last moments in Chicago. He stared at the man. "Rusty, have you had had any contact with Reb recently?" Rusty shook his head. "Not since..." "Since when?" Ash prodded quickly when Rusty trailed off uncertainly and didn't seem in any hurry to fill in the blank. "Reb called me. About two years ago, before he left Chicago. He said the guy he'd been investigating for so long had found him. We'd worked out a ruse before, just in case that happened. Instead of giving Jameson the information he had like he said he would, Reb disappeared." Ash was listening, but thinking furiously. Jameson! By name! "You don't know where, I suppose?" "No. He said he was gonna move around often." Rusty's gaze met Ash's. "But then he can't run forever." "I doubt he could run forever, too," Ash agreed. "But where would he settle down? Where wouldn't he be found?" Ash could see Rusty knew more, and it required a bit more finessing on Ash's part to get him to give up the fact that Reb 258

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had relatives in Wisconsin. An aunt—estranged from the rest of the family—lived on a farm in the central part of the state. Unfortunately, Rusty couldn't provide them with any more details that that, not even a phone number. Frustrated but confident it was something the Network could work with, Ash asked Rusty if he could use his bathroom. There he called in the information, wondering again if Kirsten was getting anywhere with Raven. And if she was thinking about him and how to work out their seeming impasse.

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Chapter 30 "Make any headway?" Kirsten asked quietly when they stepped out of the Harris' door late that night. Ash put his arm around her because he wanted to and because it was expected. He didn't look at her as he glanced around, checking the area. He didn't see or sense any danger. "Not much. Her brother, Rusty, hasn't been in contact with Reb for the last couple years. Reb told him the guy he'd been investigating had found him. They performed some ruse, and Reb was able to disappear. He mentioned an estranged relative Reb used to visit in Wisconsin. No town specifics, let alone an address. I asked Raven about it, too, but she couldn't remember anything more either. I ducked into Rusty's bathroom for a couple minutes to call it in. It narrows the search considerably, so we'll turn something up if he's in that state. Rusty didn't know anything else." "Casey's not going to talk to Raven?" He faced her as they neared the front of the Griepentrogs' house, but she was still looking away from him. "I doubt it." "I don't think she'll talk to him either." Ash turned her toward him, and she unwillingly made eye contact with him. "Ash ... God, we can't. We can't do anything like we did before again. What the hell were we thinking?" He'd known she'd made her own decisions during the hours they'd been with company, and calling it quits while they were still ahead wasn't weak. It was the smart thing to do. But when Ash had spoken to Angelo from Rusty Pujotes' apartment, he'd heard nothing untoward in his superior's 260

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tone. There was a good chance his and Kirsten's slip hadn't been picked up by the Network. "I don't know about you, but I was thinking I've wanted you from the moment I laid eyes on you and I still want you. I don't think they suspect anything." "We can't be sure. If they reprimand us, it'll be after the mission. This isn't possible, Ash. You know it as well as I do." "I don't regret it. Even if I can never have you again, I don't regret it." Her eyes were bright with unshed tears in the moonlight. "Even if they find out? Even if we're punished? You know what they're capable of. Shannon McKee won't allow what happened with Andy Sheppard and Rosalia Clark to ever happen again. If it means destroying one or both of us, they'll do it. It makes sense for them to do it. No one else will ever dare to have a relationship in the Network again." Ash had considered what she said, but he'd discarded the scenario. They'd be punished, yeah. Their status would be docked, they'd be forced to do B class or lower missions for awhile. "Angelo wouldn't allow that." "Don't be too sure. He's right up against it now, with Shannon McKee there in the compound. McKee won't show any weaknesses. She's going to crack down on any appearance of disloyalty, and Angelo won't be able to intervene, even if he wants to. He'd risk his own status. He's next in line for 2nd in Command. I don't think he'd give that up just to protect either of us." 261

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Taking a deep breath, Ash couldn't deny her logical assessment. Shannon McKee was a gray area. Her presence within the compound had been limited in the past. When she showed up, she was usually unannounced, and she holed up in the perch or the tower—2nd in Command's personal, luxury living quarters in the ETI skyscraper. He did know McKee was ruthless, at least as ruthless as her father had been, and in some ways as cut-throat as Giles Jameson. In her position, she couldn't allow a shadow of turning. Everything had absolutes within the Network. If McKee stayed there for any length of time, her presence would pressure Angelo to keep everything on the level. Nothing would slip through the cracks. She'd make an example of them just to keep the others in line. "Dammit," he said under his breath. His gaze met Kirsten's and he felt slightly better when he saw he wasn't alone. Her regret proved he wasn't fooling himself. She wouldn't have agreed to anything that happened earlier if she didn't have overwhelming feelings for him. Right now, knowing that didn't do him a damn bit of good either. Not when he still wanted her. Just once, he wanted to finish what they started. Finish it and then hold her in his arms for as long as he dared. That might be too much to ask. Fate sure as hell didn't owe him any more miracles. "We have to forget this," she said logically, her voice breaking as tears slipped past her defenses. She turned away from him, and he couldn't stop himself from recapturing her, easing her back, this time tightly. "Tell me you don't want this as bad as I do." 262

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"I don't want you dead. I don't want to die for it either," she said fiercely. "We're not free, Ash, so ... stop falling, all right? And I'll do the same." "Tell me how," he demanded. She looked down on a sob. "Start by not looking at me like you wanna kiss me more than you want your next breath. Ash—" But he ducked, touched his mouth to hers, and she gasped out another sob even as she reached for him. Her nails dug into him as she clutched him to her. "I hate you," she murmured against his lips. "You love me. I love you." With a strangled cry, her head dropped and she put her face against his chest, her hands still fisting his sweater. Ash drew in a sharp breath as he crushed her shuddering body against him. This was goddamn impossible. She was right. But he wanted it anyway. Damn the consequences. He was tired of the sterile environment he'd lived in for fifteen years. He felt barren when he wasn't with her. "We better get in the house," he said fiercely. She shook her head, and he knew she was afraid she wouldn't be able to resist his advances once inside. Despite that, she went with him when he urged her toward the house. The instant Ash took the first step toward their house, he knew something was wrong. There was nothing obvious, outside of his instincts blaring an alarm. His stiffness drew Kirsten's instincts out as well. He glanced down at her, nodding toward the back. When she drew her gun and disappeared around the side of the house toward the deck, 263

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Ash removed his service weapon and quietly pulled back the hammer. It would take someone with a high level of expertise to slip past their defenses and get inside the house. Hell, that would be humiliating. To find Giles Jameson or Roan Emory watching them from the listening post. Crouching before the door, Ash waited until he was sure Kirsten had time to reach the back patio entry before he carefully tried the doorknob. The door was unlocked. He eased it open wide without a sound. He drew himself up against the refrigerator. Then he put his hand out, searching for the wall switch. Someone had been sitting over here in the dark for quite a few hours. He could catch them off-guard with the lights coming on at once. Just before he could flick the switch, the lights came on and a voice, a familiar voice, said casually, "The plan's changed." Ash's eyes adjusted, but he already knew there was no danger. He heard Kirsten uncock her gun from the other side of the room. Angelo stood in the kitchen, leaning back against the sink in a long black trench coat. Like Jameson and Emory, Angelo could get into any building, open any door like a ghost, with no one the wiser. He should have guessed it was Angelo. Jameson and Emory wouldn't have deliberately left behind a clue—the unlocked door—to their entry, even for kicks. Relaxing slightly, Ash released the hammer and slowly let it down before replacing his gun in the holster. "What do you mean the plan's changed?" Kirsten asked, moving into the room. 264

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"The confirmation of Roan Emory's presence complicates everything, as you can both imagine. We're in a race to be the first to get any information these reporters have on Jameson and our organization. We need to draw them out. Give them what they think they want." "Just give them Raven and Casey? We can't do that," Kirsten insisted, her expression fierce. "Can you think of any other choice here, Kirsten? You're the logical one. I count on you for that. The only way to get Jameson and Emory out in the open, where we can bring them down, is by using the Harris' as bait. We'll control the situation." "What made you decide this?" Ash asked quietly. "Just like you suspected, none of the potential evidence you brought in from Raven's house contained any of the information we need. Porter took it when he came to her two years ago. I doubt Jameson knows that yet. We need to get the Harris' out of the house. Either Jameson or Emory will go after Raven. The other will make a move to locate the documents from their house. We'll be ready for them both." "Roan knows every move we make. You can't expect him not to know what we're up to. He'll kill them. You know he will." Angelo glanced at Kirsten, who was having a visibly hard time controlling her emotions. "Our end game is the same. We want them contained. And we want the information Reb Porter has." "So the Harris' are sacrificed for the greater good?" 265

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"Jameson and Emory will want her alive. She's their bait for drawing out Porter. But they'll kill Casey Harris." The Harris' survival was secondary to the mission. Their primary objective was to contain Jameson and Emory and to prevent them from getting what Porter had on them. Grimacing, Ash asked, "What's the plan?" Angelo crossed arms over his chest. "Now that the two of you are so cozy with the Harris', you've gained their trust..." Angelo glanced pointedly from Ash to Kirsten, and there was definitely a message for them in that glance. The Network knew everything that had happened this day. Everything. Kirsten's fearful gaze skittered frantically away from his when Ash sought her. "...it'll be easy for the two of you to convince them to reconcile. You'll arrange for them to go out on a date. You'll tell them they'll be perfectly safe because they're in public. You'll personally make reservations at Raven's parents' restaurant, Pujotes. As soon as they leave in the Network limousine you've provided for them, we'll send a chopper to get the two of you back to the compound to lead the teams." "What about our covers?" Kirsten asked. "You'll lose them when you return to the compound. I've loaded both of your panels." Angelo indicated the PDAs on the counter. "Study them. I want you both fully prepared. You can't let Jameson and Emory capture her. If they take her, we've lost our advantage. They'll find Porter and the information, and it'll be the end of the Network. Do you understand me?" 266

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Yeah, Ash understood perfectly well. If it came to it, he or Kirsten would have to kill Raven rather than let her fall into the wrong hands. They had no choice. It was either her or the Network. He also understood what Angelo wasn't saying. He'd known for the past six years about Ash and Kirsten's little tryst in the locker room after the Vegas mission. He'd known about it, but he'd never called them on the carpet for it. Ash had always suspected he'd been waiting to use it against them for leverage when he needed it. Nothing was ever overlooked in the organization. If they didn't complete this mission successfully, they'd pay for their indulgences, past and recent. Even if they did everything right, they'd be punished. They'd never be together again. That much Ash understood unequivocally. It didn't make him regret what they shared though. Angelo commanded their complete attention when he straightened to his full, considerable height. "This is all that matters. If the Network goes down, we all go down with it, and then it's over for all of us. Focus on the mission like you've never focused before. Forget everything else. Forget the personal shit as of this moment."

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Chapter 31 She couldn't sleep. Though she'd been trained to take rest when it came, she couldn't shut her mind off to everything that had happened in the space of twenty-four hours. The worst—the most ridiculous—part of all it was that she wanted to talk to Ash. She didn't even know what she would say. There was nothing to say. That fact didn't alter the desire one iota. Each time she closed her eyes, she heard him say, "I've wanted you from the moment I laid eyes on you and I still want you. You love me. I love you." Kirsten sat up on the bed, put her head down and clenched her fists into her hair fiercely. God, the taste of his mouth, the feel of his hard yet soft lips against hers, against ... Oh hell, his tongue, making her so incredibly hot. She closed her eyes, though she knew she shouldn't, and her body responded like a flick of a switch had turned her on. Moisture pooled between her thighs. Can't want. Shouldn't even let myself remember. But her mind wouldn't let her forget. Her fingers crept to her hard nipples as the memory of Ash cradling her breasts on the bathroom counter came to her. Her own gasp of pleasure reminded her of one more thing she didn't want to recall—Angelo, the Network had heard as well as seen her and Ash make love last night. Every intimate, private word they'd spoken had been overheard and recorded. There was no escape from their prying eyes. 268

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She asked herself why it should bother her. After all, she'd known for years they'd analyzed her and Roan's sexual encounters. It'd made her nervous at first, but she'd stopped thinking about it after awhile out of necessity. There was nothing she could do, so why sweat what you couldn't control or change? Kirsten growled in frustration, then a shuffling step drew her gaze. Ash stood in the doorway, wearing only jeans and a tank top, and those jeans had been loosened to account for his erection—something she couldn't have missed even if she'd been half asleep. Her own arousal became sheer agony at the sight, until he held up a bug detecting wand. Standard equipment he'd used when he was installing surveillance in the Harris' house, in order to make sure someone else hadn't installing any surveillance previously. She couldn't breath, couldn't do anything else, as he motioned for her to follow him out of the room into the bathroom. When she went inside with him, he closed the door and waved the wand throughout the room. The LEDs stayed green. This room hadn't been bugged, or he'd removed the bugs. "Ash..." she moaned in agony. Angelo had subtly warned them that the Network knew of their dangerous indiscretion and would be watching every move they made closely. They couldn't afford any more screw-ups. If they made a single mistake... Ash wore the mobile earpiece, which would alert them to any danger. It wasn't enough for her. "This is insane." 269

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"This room isn't bugged. It wasn't before. We were only in the living room, maybe, five minutes. I don't think they monitored us here." Kirsten shook her head. "They saw us and heard us, Ash. Why else would Angelo tell us to 'forget the personal shit'?" "They know we're helping Raven and Casey reconcile. That's personal shit." Her instinctive denial got caught in her throat at his logic. Angelo had said they'd noted how personal they were getting with the Harris' when they'd first come in. "I'm still not sure— " she started. Nodding, he set the wand on the counter, then turned to look at her expectantly. She understood what he didn't say out loud. He would go along with any decision she made. Kirsten swallowed, aware only that she was as turned on as he was. She made her decision that quickly. This wouldn't take long. They could be together just once more. Finish it. Then they would give themselves up to the Network and never ask for anything more. She reached for the hem of the tank she'd worn to bed, drew it up over her head, then threw it aside. Ash watched her with barely contained hunger as she stepped out of her panties. He took only the time to remove his own shirt before he was on her, his mouth closing over hers. Kirsten turned and propelled him back to the door. The sob working its way up her throat was something she channeled into her fulfillment almost like anger. She stroked Ash's tongue with her own until he growled deep in his throat and his fingers tested her. 270

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"Not yet," she whispered, sliding her mouth, teeth nipping and tongue hot and wet on his skin, down his chin, his neck, down to his heavily muscled chest. She watched him with satisfaction as he lifted his head and groaned, his hands holding her head as she worked over his erect nipples. "I can't take much more, baby," he panted, looking down at her with his eyes glowering with desire. "I've spent the last couple hours remembering every single one of your moans, the way you—" She couldn't stop herself. Looking up at him, a powerful man who made her feel like the rest of the world could go to hell so the two of them could be in this emotional, sensual place she'd never known before, she couldn't stop herself from giving him the pleasure he'd given her earlier. Flattening her hands on his rock hard abdomen, she kissed him, drawing in the scent of his animal arousal, and she watched him as he watched her like he knew he should stop her, but he couldn't do it any more than she could. Kirsten felt the convulsion rock through his body, making him almost lose his balance as he leaned heavily back on the door, when she took him in with a moan. She wanted all of him; she took it. Dipping both hands beneath the denim that held him prisoner and cradled him, she caressed his sensitive skin. He was nearly sobbing as his hips jerked and then settled into the fast groove that matched the one she set with her motions. She sensed his breaking point and did nothing to discourage it. As he exploded, he pulled her up into his arms, legs giving out. They slid to the floor with the door still 271

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against his back. Kirsten held him. His words were shaky as he muttered, "Only you. Only you do this to me, Kirsten. I feel like a teenager again. The second it's over, I want you all over again. Just as bad. Everything that happens, everything we do, I think about this." She understood his dilemma. They couldn't afford their concentration to be interrupted for these feelings. His eyes were wet when she lifted her head and told him she loved him with the same lack of control that had brought them to this one place of safety tonight. He clutched her against him again, gulping air. "I better check. Let 'em see me. And then I'll come back." "Can you..." she asked, not thinking logically at all. Her body was aroused to the point of pain and she'd never felt so empty. She was so in need of him to fill her and complete her. Ash grinned and kissed her. "I got it to spare tonight, baby. Don't worry about that." He kissed her again, longer. When he staggered to his feet, she pushed herself back on the slippery, tiled floor so he could put himself back together enough to go out. Kirsten lay back, closing her eyes as she shuddered in anticipation. He was still with her. Is it always going to be this way? Remembering? Wanting? Knowing I can't have? She wondered about the possibilities in torment, sobbing as she imagined Ash's fingers stroking her. I want him too bad to care what the consequences will be. Right now I don't care about the price I'll pay. I don't care 272

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about anything but being with him. I don't want to think that anything else matters. I can't forget the personal shit. For the first time in my life, I want the man I'm giving myself to. I want him to own me. I want him to take me, bring me alive, make me feel what I've never felt before. I want to give him everything he'll need for a lifetime. Love. Real love. Not forced. There's nothing I wouldn't willingly give to Ash. Nothing. I'd give him my death, if it came to that. When Ash ducked back into the room and closed the door, he stood watching her for a long, hot moment as she asked, "Everything all right?" "Never better," he said tightly. "I just sent the B&A to give 'em something to do." "I want you. Now." He chuckled, but stripped his jeans off and came to her. Just as he'd promised, he grew hard again the instant she straddled him and she slid up his length. His hands captured the fullness of her breasts, and she wanted it to never end. She wanted only to think about how sweet and sexy his mouth was against her, how perfect everything was with him. She watched him touch her, admitting, "I like these." His grin was lazy and utterly delicious as he squeezed her other breast gently. "You're definitely not alone." "It's like they're ours. Something that'll always remind me..." She almost said '...of loving you now and never again', but a sob choked off the words and the next second, tears poured out of her eyes like a bursting dam. 273

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Groaning, Ash sat up and put his arms around her. "No." She shook her head fiercely. "Make love to me, Ash. So what if I cry? I want to. I deserve to. But I want you inside me." His gaze locked with hers, and the feeling she wasn't completely alone in what she felt was powerful. This was insane, but it was also worth it. Everything was worth Ash laying her back, kissing her, filling her as though he'd been made just for her and driving her straight into something she'd never forget. She wept for a million different reasons. The moment they came together, Kirsten knew with everything inside her she could die right now and never regret it for a second. Ash's tears against her neck as he rolled them on their sides only made it more perfect. This had to end. He knew it. She knew it. The impossibility of this moment they'd stolen wouldn't come again. Better to have loved and lost, Kirsten thought in bittersweet joy. They didn't have much time. "Why did Angelo allow this with you and Roan?" Ash asked softly, like he was searching for something to make a case with. And it made a lot of sense for him to ask. Her relationship with Roan should have been forbidden. "Roan isn't like other men. They knew that." "He's no different—" Ash started angrily. "They tested him. For six months, they tested him. He performed on every mission better after he had sex with me than he did when he didn't." Ash drew back in disbelief. "It's rare, I know. It's been proven that an overwhelming majority of men and women think less clearly and perform 274

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tasks less efficiently after they've had sex. While it gets your adrenaline peaking, in the end you're drained. It's why most people sleep after. But it didn't work that way with Roan. His adrenaline was unusually high for three or four hours after sex. That's why they allowed it. For all I know, they encouraged it just to study the phenomenon. Pilot program or something that never made it out of the gate." Part of the reason anyway. Roan had something to blackmail Jameson with anytime he wanted to use it. The jealousy she hadn't been certain he felt for years made Ash's face stone-like. "You didn't want to be with him. I'd stake my life on that. You could have refused." "Do you really think I could have refused him? You don't know Roan very well if you believe that." She sat up, and he followed her, wrapping his arms around her again. "There's more to it than that, Kirsten." "What do you mean?" "Something from your past." Her eyes narrowed. Unbelievable as it was, she had a strong feeling he was talking about her life before she'd joined the Network. They were prohibited from discussing any of that, even with fellow operatives. "I broke into a Level 1 Black File console," he told her without a trace of regret for the severe offense. "I read all your files. You're not a machine. You were a victim who learned how to stand on her own. Your parents programmed you to think you had to put up with a man's bullshit, didn't they? They forced you to marry a bastard who'd raped you and made you pregnant when you were only sixteen. They 275

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turned a blind eye when he beat you and took out his problems on you and your unborn child. He destroyed his own child—" "And I did nothing to stop it," she whispered recklessly. "Stop it, Ash. God, just stop. Please. Let me forget again." She'd been the daughter of powerful people, people who'd refused to allow even a hint of scandal to tarnish their pristine reputations. Little had they'd realized one bad decision would plunge them all into years of shame and eventual ruin. Kirsten had finally woken up to her own stupidity, so desperately afraid of her parents' disapproval, the night the doctors had taken the dead, almost full-term baby from her body. Too late, she'd stood up to them. She'd divorced Wayne, she'd gone through police school and she'd learned to protect herself for the first time. But by then her anger couldn't be contained so easily. Every rapist, wife beater, and child molester who got off without punishment felt the full force of her wrath against their injustice to the innocent. When the legal system failed to protect the victims, she'd exacted her own justice. Under cover of night, she hadn't felt an ounce of shame as she'd searched out, found and destroyed the criminals who walked free by day. The times she'd been unable to control herself while on duty, she'd been reprimanded with a few weeks of paper pushing. But she'd worked in a corrupt department that cared more about public image than following the letter of the law. They'd covered for her every time to save their own butts. When she remembered it all now, she accepted that if she hadn't been at the 'wrong place at the wrong time', she 276

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wouldn't have been able to continue as she had much longer. She'd inadvertently become a witness to a Network mission in action. Not long afterward, Angelo came to her as she'd been stealing back out into the night after stopping another evil from multiplying. He knew everything about her. He knew about the murders she'd committed on the sly to rid the world of scum. He understood what no one else could. And when he'd told her that her ex-husband Wayne had been shot and killed by his second wife during a domestic dispute, the poetic justice of it had been the final incentive to convince her to accept his invitation. She'd joined the Network, where she could be a part of true justice. "When did you ever get a chance to grieve, Kirsten?" Ash asked as he held her and she tried to push it all back into the darkness inside her. "I've wondered that more times than I can count. You have no reason to feel guilty for anything you've done, but when did you grieve? And when did any man ever treat you the way you really deserved? Do you know I've spent the past thirteen years, since the moment I first saw you, wishing I could be the one man who could give you what you deserve?" She shook her head frantically, begging him, "Don't do this to me, Ash. Please." She'd given up her life long ago. She'd exchanged it for the chance to uphold justice for all, a lofty premise she'd believed in then and she believed in now just as surely. Ash had exchanged his life to get back the use of his legs. They'd taken oaths once and for all; there could be no re277

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negotiating. What were they thinking? They weren't free. They had no choices left. Kirsten struggled away from him, dressing as he stared at her in devastation. "I never loved Roan, but you're right. All my life, then and now, everything I've done is to survive. I stayed with Roan because it was the only way to survive. I love you. I've never loved a man before. I've despised almost all of them. But I have nothing to give you. We can't love. There's no place for it here." Surprisingly, Ash nodded. "I can't risk your life, Ash. What happens between us ... we can't let it be worth our own lives. We've given our lives to the Network. I don't think either of us is ready to give that up." She held her hand out to him to help him up. When he was beside her, he didn't reach for her the way she expected him to. Instead, he said the one thing that would haunt her forever: "I'll accept that if that's what you want, but I want you to do something for me." Kirsten held her breath in fear. "Don't ever forget anything we've said, anything we've done together, Kirsten. Because it's all that's gonna get me through the rest of this life."

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Chapter 32 "Why don't you and Nathan come with us? We could double date," Raven pleaded nervously, trying for the second time to put in a pierced earring she said she hadn't worn in six years. Kirsten forced a smile she didn't have the strength to keep up for long. "If we came along, you and Casey wouldn't be able to talk. And that's what the two of you need to do." Raven finally succeeding in getting the earring in and the back on. She stood staring at herself in the free-standing wood frame mirror in the master bedroom as though she couldn't see anything beyond her own fears. She was still pale under her make-up and thinner than she should be, but there was no denying that the stunning woman who'd graced billboards all over the city was still very much a part of her. "You're gorgeous," Kirsten said honestly. She leaned close enough to say fervently, "Look at yourself, Raven." Just as Kirsten had hoped, Raven seemed to see herself again for a minute. To see what Kirsten saw. A sexy waterfall of thick, cinnamon hair spilling like a natural fire over her bare shoulders. A sleek body encased in a white knit dress that molded her curves to perfection. Legs that seemed to go on forever. "You're beautiful, Raven, and Casey is going to fall in love with you all over again," Kirsten told her softly. Tears filled the other woman's eyes, and she managed an uncertain, guilty smile for Kirsten's sake. 279

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The few times Raven and Casey had talked in the past week, she'd been turned away from him in the bed he'd insisted they sleep together in for safety. Only after they fell silent and she refused to open her eyes did she turn to him. In the light of the moon spilling through a purposely left open curtain, Casey would remove the covers and look at his wife, who'd been undressing completely at night before slipping into bed. He also wore nothing. Strangely, the fierce arousal he had every night before he'd even joined her in the bed did nothing to belie the tender way he touched and looked at her later. She never opened her eyes in those intense hours Casey's hands trailed like a butterfly over her bare skin, his lips laved her body until her hands were fisted beside her head and he brought her to a climax that was resolutely silent yet intense enough to flood her face with tears. Then she would turn away from him. He wanted her to acknowledge him, to come into his arms, invite him into her body and forgive him without a word. And that wasn't something she would willingly give him, no matter how insane his lovemaking made her. What they'd been doing for the past few days was about punishment. Making him suffer the way she had when he'd taken her from behind like they were doing something shameful. "I want to see him cry the way I have. To suffer. I want to see his tears. I think I could forgive him everything if he gives me that much." Despite the destructive habit the Harris' had fallen into every night, both Kirsten and Ash had spent the last few days convincing and re-convincing Raven and Casey to go out on a date. They'd made all the arrangements, going out of their 280

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way to force the two of them to accept that they had no choice about this. "Do you really think it's safe for us to leave the house?" Raven asked again, nervously fingering the strand of pearls that dipped into her plumped cleavage. "We rented a limousine for you. You'll be perfectly safe in public. Just make sure you don't sneak off together into some dark alley. You'll have the whole house waiting for that when you get home." Raven had no way of knowing Kirsten had watched those hours she'd punished her husband with her selfish sexual gratification that had to make him feel as empty and dirty as she'd felt the past six years, yet she flushed deeply anyway. The thought that the two of them might never make it home again put a lump in Kirsten's throat she couldn't swallow as she urged Raven out of hiding. Casey and Ash waited in the living room, Casey dressed to the nines, just as his wife was. He looked as sick with dread as she did before they appeared, but then, seeing Raven, he resembled a bird stunned in mid-flight. To keep up appearances, Kirsten glided into Ash's waiting arms, hugging him when he squeezed her shoulders in a congratulatory gesture. Raven had insisted she couldn't do this and locked herself in the bedroom. Ash realized Kirsten had spent the last two hours getting her ready and out from there. "You're an angel," Casey said when he could breathe again. "A vision." 281

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His compliment seemed to terrify Raven even more. After years of questioning his intentions with her, she wouldn't change overnight, no matter what happened on this date. They hadn't touched but even standing three feet apart, Kirsten couldn't fail to notice they were a gorgeous couple. Somehow Raven's beauty softened Casey's usual uptight demeanor. Can I stand by and let Casey be slaughtered? Can I gun Raven down if Roan or Jameson try to take her? Can I let Ash or anyone else on the team do that? For the first time since she'd come to the Network, Kirsten questioned her own ability to do her job. She'd never been personally involved with anyone except Ash on a mission before. She cared about Raven and Casey. Their lives paralleled what she and Ash shared in ways that she'd been unable to turn away from on this mission. If they both tried, they could make their marriage work again. She wanted to see them live happily ever after. She wanted to see them make love while looking into each other's eyes, pleasuring the other fully and allowing themselves to be healed by what they shared. There was no doubt at all that if one of them was killed this night, the other would die soon afterward. Ironically, the only thing that had kept them going for the past six years were was the memory of the love they'd discovered twenty years earlier and were now afraid they'd lost. Ash glanced down at her, and he read the troubled look in her eyes more easily than she cared for. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to look back at Raven and Casey, 282

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give them a big smile, and say, "Let's get you two out to the limo." Casey went to his wife. Awkwardly, he put his hand on her arm to lead her out. That same hand went to the small of her back an instant later, as if his desire to touch her was beyond his control. The driver was standing on the sidewalk at the side of the limousine, and Kirsten recognized Noah Harlow's military short hair and the square granite thrust of his jaw. He would have no trouble protecting Raven and Casey until they were inside the restaurant. The car itself was the sophisticated alternative to an armored tank. Bullet proof glass, reinforced tires and a well-protected gas tank. "Stay in well-populated places," Ash told them before they got into the door Noah held open for them. "But, other than that, try to have a good time. And, Casey?" Raven slid inside the car as Casey turned to look back at Ash warily. "If your steak tastes like it was boiled in piss again, send it back, man. Just send it back." No one expected the humor, and it threw them off-guard enough to laugh. Raven was still giggling helplessly when Noah closed the back door and turned. He surprised them when he got around the driver's side and said quietly before getting in, "Take care of yourselves out there tonight." They watched as the luxury car moved away almost silently.

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"What was that all about?" Kirsten whispered. Very few operatives had ever wished her well before an op, even one as crucial as the one going down tonight. Ash shrugged, then they walked to his car parked in the Griepentrogs' driveway. The team needed at least thirty-five minutes to prep for the mission. Because traffic was sure to be heavy on a Friday night, it would take at least that long to arrive at Pujotes, but Noah had been instructed to drive slowly to make sure everything was in position when they arrived at the restaurant. As soon as the limousine disappeared around the corner, Kirsten said and did nothing to stop Ash when he reached for her hand as they drove to their designated pick-up location. Hand-holding was all they'd had of each other for the past three days. It was all they'd ever have again. Kirsten had experienced a strange contentedness by it each time, too. When they parked and he'd turned off the car, Ash drew her across the seat to him. "It's clean," he said, talking about bugs in the car. "One last kiss. For life." Kirsten closed her eyes and gave herself to him. One last kiss to last a lifetime. Not a kiss for luck because they couldn't expect to ever have that on their side again. The sound of the helicopter made him draw back reluctantly. Kirsten drew in a breath, hoping for courage, then they forced themselves out of the car. The chopper came into view as they emerged. Less than fifteen minutes later, they were inside the compound and, as they suited up, Kirsten felt like her old self for the first time in a week. She was a Network operative. 284

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And this could be the night Giles Jameson paid for his crimes ... to the organization, and to her personally. She had the feeling that was going to be the only real satisfaction she got out of this whole thing. Maybe it would make up for the losses. Maybe.

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Chapter 33 Ash watched as Kirsten slammed a magazine into her standard issue handgun then shoved it into her belt holster. She picked up the M-16 next, her movements cold and efficient as they equipped themselves for the mission. Her short black hair was back, along with her penetrating jade eyes. Later, they'd give her a choice about whether she wanted to keep her enhanced figure. Ash had a strong feeling she'd go back to what she'd had before. Probably easier that way, he concluded. For both of us. He lowered his gaze as he dropped extra ammunition in his belt compartments. "Jameson is mine," she said suddenly, and he looked at her again. "I take him down. No one else." As primary team leader, that was her call, but the way she said it told him she wasn't looking for the commendations she'd get later for completing their alpha mission. She was looking for personal gratification. More than once, Ash had wondered if Kirsten's dislike for Jameson was more than simple revulsion for a ruthless, corrupt leader. It was true she fought for justice the way some people fought religious wars, but this was more than honed sensitivity to injustice. She never looked at Jameson during mission briefs. She loathed him and warned him not to cross her with every averted glance. And Jameson had never treated her like any another operative. He seemed to enjoy her obvious hate for him. 286

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Kirsten started away from him, toward van access and her awaiting teams, and Ash grabbed his automatic rifle and went after her. "You hate him. Why?" "Why not?" "Tell me." She stopped abruptly and turned to him. "You don't need to know why. All you need to know is that he's mine. Unless there's no other choice, I'm the one who's going to make him pay." She started walked again, and he followed her, frustrated despite his agreement with her on Tuesday. Their personal relationship had ended when they left the Griepentrogs' home tonight. In less than an hours' time, Raven and Casey's house would be swarming with camouflaged operatives, the Griepentrog house would be stripped of Network equipment, and Elliot Griepentrog and his family would be served a notice of forfeiture which would revoke the will that had given him a fortune he'd assumed would last him a lifetime. His job at Bethany Design and his previous life would be restored to him as though nothing had happened. Ash faced reality as they moved off. This is my life. The one I've known for fifteen years. Tonight decides whether everything is over, or Kirsten and I can return to life in the Network as we've always known it. As the two of them approached the two back-up assault teams, Ash quickly absorbed what he was seeing. He heard Kirsten murmur in surprise under her breath, and he knew she'd noted what he had. All the operatives on their back-up teams were abeyance ops—those who hadn't performed 287

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satisfactorily in the past even while in upper level detention assignments—and were therefore put on no-win missions they rarely returned from. Kirsten went to the compound phone directly across from the airlock door as the last two members of their primary team arrived locked and loaded. Before she could dial Angelo's extension, Shannon McKee's voice came over the intercom. "All teams, to the vans immediately. Bait material arrives on site in less than ten minutes. Don't fail us." Ash met Kirsten's gaze as she hung up and saw mutual confusion and fury there. Abeyance teams almost never survived because the chances of success never equaled the necessity of the mission. They were sent to do jobs that had to be done, but they couldn't possibly escape alive once the task was complete. It made no sense at all that Angelo and McKee would use abeyance operatives instead of those in the highest levels of fitness. Ash wondered if the support teams already in play within the restaurant were also abeyance levels. Their primary team was far too small for the assignment. In order to bring in or bring down both Jameson and Emory, they needed their best people on three, eight member, assault teams. It made no sense at all ... unless their intention wasn't to capture Jameson and Emory to keep Raven from being taken alive. If that was the case, then Ash couldn't imagine what the hell was going on.

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Chapter 34 "Team 3, on first mark. Situation clean," Kirsten heard through her radio earpiece. Team 2 reported the same a moment later. "Tactical Oversight," she reported to Angelo, who was on point from inside the compound, "all teams in position and bait no-show." It wasn't what she wanted to say. She wanted to demand that her mentor explain what was going on. She was leading a suicide mission. If caging Jameson and Emory wasn't their prime directive laid out in their mission profiles, then this could be nothing but certain suicide. It surely wouldn't be the first time she'd led or been on a mission where her superiors had purposely neglected to inform the team members of variables or primary and secondary directives until the last minute. She was sure Angelo had a good reason for what he was doing tonight, but at the moment she couldn't imagine what it was. Not one goddamn thing made sense, and she'd never felt more frustrated in her life. "Perimeter is clear," Angelo told her, and a part of her had to wonder if he was being truthful. She could keep the team tight as a drum, and it didn't mean there weren't blind spots—ones Angelo was supposed to inform them of. Would he? From her position, Kirsten saw the Network limousine glide smoothly toward Pujotes. "All teams, we have contact with 289

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live bait. Move to your second mark and tighten. Team 3 ... watch the gaps." Kirsten was aware that Angelo wouldn't misinterpret her instructions to their outer layer. He'd know she didn't believe he was watching their backs, and she wanted the team to be aware they were exposed. He also had to know she couldn't afford to do anything else. He and Shannon McKee might intend them to be lambs to the slaughter, but she always took care of her teams, even if they were fifth and sixth level abeyance ops. Her gut instincts were telling her she couldn't save them in a no-win scenario, no matter what she did to warn them ahead of time. Silently and efficiently, she moved her primary team onto the elegant balcony topping the restaurant. Mission specialists had blocked off access by patrons. Though they'd planned for several contingencies, Kirsten was convinced that, if Roan or Jameson showed themselves tonight, they'd be coming through the kitchen, dressed as waiters. She didn't believe either of them would search the Harris' home because they'd be smart enough to assume correctly that the Network would have already gotten anything of value. They would either come here together and get Raven, or Roan would come alone while Jameson stayed in the background to create a diversion. As she scanned the restaurant, filled with more Network detention ops posing as waiters, waitresses, and other restaurant employees, Kirsten saw no suspicious activity. It was extremely unlikely that Raven would recognize her 290

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parents' employees, since she hadn't been to the restaurant in more than five years. Everything was as it should be. Raven and Casey were talking, she also noticed, and they were actually looking at each other while they did. Kirsten continued to check with the teams and make sure the restaurant was secure, but her gaze was drawn to the couple helplessly every few minutes. Casey was sitting beside her now, not across the table from her, their practically untouched meals long forgotten. He was touching her face with an expression of utter agony on his own. She was crying. After what felt like an endless amount of time watching their every move, Kirsten found herself wanting insanely to hear what they were talking about. What had made them shift their chairs closer and allowed Raven to show him her tears. Casey leaned his forehead against hers as he cradled her face in his hand. When his mouth sought and found hers, her eyes closed in internal torment and she shook her head against it. She was rising an instant later, and Kirsten was immediately alert. "Gray team, Raven is moving in your direction. Cover her." Surprising her, Casey stood just as suddenly as his wife had, and he started to follow her. "They wouldn't—" Ash was clearly thinking the same thing she was. Raven and Casey wouldn't duck into a dark corner for a quickie, would they? She couldn't honestly say what they would have done before they'd become two emotionally-wounded creatures who reacted only in desperation. Kirsten stood, 291

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starting to direct the team in the bathroom hall to expect Casey as well. The explosion that rocked the ground under her feet seemed to roll at her like a mountain collapsing from the top down. Ash caught her as she lost her balance, listing toward the balcony rail. With his help, she steadied and then took off running toward the stairs. The middle of the restaurant exploded with a hail of grenades that seemed to come out of nowhere as she and Ash flew down the stairs. Kirsten turned her face toward the wall, but she didn't stop moving. By the time she could look, there was too much smoke to see from what direction the grenades had come in. It seemed blatantly obvious to her now that her original evaluation had been correct. Roan Emory and Giles Jameson would have the brass balls to announce their arrival loud and clear. They'd first used a wall punch that not only afforded them easy entrance and egress to get and take Raven, but they'd taken out most of Kirsten's perimeter and support teams as well. She didn't need to hear Angelo telling her that bio signs for Teams 2, 3, and the support teams, were off the board after she commanded them to check in and no reply came. "Jameson and Roan?" she asked him, but Angelo didn't answer as she and Ash leaped over the velvet ropes that blocked off the balcony and ran toward the bathroom wing. She saw Murray and Verbana closing in from the other side. Comm wasn't responding. She didn't have time to think about whether communications had been severed because of the explosions or if it'd been done on purpose by Angelo. 292

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She swore as she raced over the bodies, some moving, most not, in the dining room. Her mind was working fast. If both Emory and Jameson were here, Jameson would go after Raven. As a hostage, she would give him safe passage out of the place. Ahh hell, on the other hand the two of them would know she'd assume that. Kirsten growled at the lack of time to make a well-thought out decision. Jameson had more at stake. She had to assume he'd be the one to grab Raven. "Murray and Verbana, cover as many of the exits as you can. Don't let anyone out of here alive. Ash, you're with me." When they reached the bathroom hall, she saw a huge hole in the back wall, where the wall punch had rocked the foundations of the building. The hall was littered with bodies, but none of them Casey or Raven. Kristen nodded her head toward the mens' bathroom on the left, and Ash acknowledged her command with a reciprocating nod. She recognized the look in his eyes, but she couldn't allow it to affect her now. "Take care," he said softly, and she mouthed, "You, too" before turning toward the door of the ladies' restroom with her gun straight out in front of her. She took a deep breath, felt the give of the door—it was unlocked—before standing back and then kicking it inward. Diving forward quickly, she looked in all directions as she went around the corner leading into the main bathroom. She swore under her breath when she saw Roan instead of Jameson. As usual, he was one step ahead of her. He had Raven clutched tightly against his torso, his powerful arm around her throat. For a second, Kirsten was stunned to realize he didn't seem to be armed. But then she thought 293

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about his cocky confidence that always told him he'd win no matter what he did. And he usually did, too. Raven was bleeding, covered in dust and powder from the explosion that'd probably thrown her against the wall hard enough to render her unconscious when Roan had found her, but she was conscious now and alive enough to look terrified. "I like the new rack, darlin'. You're a sight for sore eyes." Roan grinned at Kirsten as he gently stroked Raven's vulnerable neck. Kirsten wondered if Raven had any idea that he could snap her spine with the ease of breaking a twig. "Hey, honey, look who's home. Back from the dead." Kirsten narrowed her gaze on him, unsmiling. "Shame you went to the trouble—because I'm sending you back where you came from."

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Chapter 35 "Let the lady leave with Roan, and her husband won't be hurt," Jameson said with the patronizingly cool smile that had been the pre-warning for Ash never to trust a word the man said in the past. As if he was an honored guest at his own party, Giles was dressed in his usual immaculate Armani suit. There wasn't a speck of dust on him from the explosion. Casey had his face on the floor, coughing up blood while Jameson pointed a gun at him. Ash could see the clean sweep across the explosion-debrised floor, where Jameson had dragged Casey into the middle of the restroom. When Casey looked up at his captor, he demanded weakly, "Where's my wife? Where's Raven?" Giles kicked him in the face, sending him sprawling back with more blood flowing. "Your wife, sir, has been a very bad girl. Insinuating herself in my business where she wasn't wanted or needed. If she and her partner had kept out of it, I wouldn't have had to do any of this to your perfect little suburban families." "There's no way out of here, you corrupt bastard," Ash said. "You'll never make it past me." Jameson's head came up in a snap, resembling a drill sergeant who was about to deal with a belligerent grunt. "I'm your superior. You'll address me the way you always have, Barnett." Ash sneered. "You're a piece of shit. I can arrange a formal address with a bullet in your brain at any time, if you'd prefer." 295

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"You apparently believe Kirsten ... or should I call her Mrs. Nathan Weston—" Casey turned his head painfully and looked at him, but Ash didn't acknowledge him. "—is capable of killing Mrs. Harris if Roan tries to leave here with her. You don't know her like I do. Given the right pressure on the right points, Kirsten Ulrick buckles like everyone else. But then you'd know that, wouldn't you, Barnett? I seem to recall a certain little tryst after the Vegas deep cover op. In the locker room. Didn't take much to get her to capitulate, did it?" Jameson smiled. "Didn't take much for me either. By the time I'd had all the fun I was going to have at her expense, she would have trusted the devil if she thought he could protect her." The anger seeping into every cell in Ash's body came on like a match thrown on a gas-soaked floor. It made sense for the first time. Why Kirsten had been Emory's lover when she so clearly had never wanted to be. Jameson had raped her. Roan had conveniently come to her rescue at the precise moment she'd needed him to 'save her', and Jameson's plan had all fallen into place. The invincible Roan Emory was captured, tortured and killed, and, though his lover had tried to go back for him, her terror over her lack of protection without him had come off as grief to everyone around her, which had lent legitimacy to the whole set-up. No one had questioned the probability of Roan Emory being captured by an enemy at that point. No wonder she hated Jameson so much. No wonder she'd 'had no choice' about being Emory's lover. She'd done what she had to do to survive. 296

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"Are you in love with her, Barnett? I've always wondered. I've always wondered what you'd do if you knew how helpless she was. I knew how dangerous she could be, so I had to make sure she couldn't move an inch. There was no one to hear her while she screamed herself hoarse. Oh, it was a pleasure to fell the terminator. I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it before I handed her off to Roan. It's a miracle that a woman can experience anything pleasurable after what I put her through, but she surprised me. Not simply with Emory, but with you as well." There'll be nothing left of him when I get done with him. I'm gonna fill him with lead until it's coming out his ears. Ash made eye contact with Casey, planning to give him a silent cue to get out of the way and stay out, but Casey spoke before he could turn away, "Did this bastard kill my son?" "Yes." Casey jaw was hard as rock. "And Reb's Porter's wife?" Ash nodded. He wasn't the only one who wanted Jameson to pay with his own blood. But Casey was going to have to stand in line for his shot. Without another word, he brought up his weapon.

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Chapter 36 "You're not leaving with her, Roan. You might as well let her go now because if you take one step, I'll take you out. Or have you forgotten my aim?" Roan grinned at her affectionately. "I haven't forgotten a damn thing, sugar. But I know you. You won't risk our little live bait's life, no matter what Angelo told you to do. You're too soft." He knew the Network so well, Kirsten wasn't surprised he'd guess Angelo expected her to kill Raven if Roan tried to take her. The man radiated smugness. "I gotta tell you, I almost dropped out of my chair when you saved me the trouble of killing you when you didn't come back to rescue me seven years ago. Instead. you left with the rest of the team like a good little operative. I guess it's because I wasn't some helpless female or innocent kid you wanted to give justice to, even if it meant slitting a few dirty throats, Officer Candace Rios." Kirsten's teeth clenched on a name that still shocked her, spoken out loud. She wasn't surprised in the least that Roan had read her black files, too. He'd never believed any boundaries applied to him. Steeling herself, she said slowly and clearly, "If you try to take her with you, I'll kill her, too. Then what are you gonna do? Is Jameson worth all this, Roan? What exactly does he do for you that makes you want to work with him? Or maybe you 298

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were jealous when you found him raping me in that contraption." For the first time, she saw something in his eyes that seemed to shake his composure. "I don't think you realize he never intended that to be a one-time adventure, sugar. If I hadn't claimed you for myself, he would have done it over and over until he got tired of you or you killed yourself so you'd never have to face it again." Kirsten swallowed, but she didn't allow him to get to her. "I hope you don't expect me to thank you. You're working with him. Don't stand there and act like he disgusts you as much as he does me." "I have my reasons, darlin', regardless of what he's done. Speaking of which, before I go, I wanna ask you one thing." "You're not going anywhere." He ignored her claim. "I wanna ask you how long you grieved for me before you gave yourself to Barnett. Two whole weeks?" "I don't know what you're talking about." "Oh yes you do, sweet thing. You think I didn't know how he felt about you all those years you were mine? I used to love watching his hands clench when I bragged about how many times you came in my arms the night before. Too bad he wasn't the one who rescued you from Jameson. He wouldn't have asked for anything in return." Kirsten couldn't believe what she was hearing. Roan was a hunter, a predatory animal. He'd displayed signs of territorial jealousy during their years, though any 'straying' on her part had been purely within mission parameters. Could he 299

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honestly be jealous of her relationship with Ash? She could imagine the things Jameson had told him about the Vegas mission ... and afterward. If he'd wanted to, it wouldn't have been hard for Roan Emory to see the things she and Ash had done inside the Griepentrogs' house without getting too close or tripping their security systems. Or was Roan simply trying to get a rise out of her? He'd loved to test her limits as an operative and a woman during their years together. As her initial mentor while she'd been in the Shop, it'd been well within his rights to test her in any way he'd wanted to. "You can't win, Roan. Give her up. We'll take you back to the compound, and you'll be re-programmed." A Network robot who remembered nothing except the compound he'd wake to after his memory had been wiped from start to finish. If Roan was captured instead of killed, Kirsten knew that was what would happen to him. He was too dangerous to trust as he was, and too valuable to outright put a bullet in his brain. Roan shook his head at her. "I'm not going back, but I'll make a deal with you. I'll let her go ... as soon as you kiss me." Kirsten burst out laughing in sheer disbelief. What the hell kind of game was he playing? "If I'm gonna die this night, I wanna kiss you one more time, sugar." "After all we've been through, Roan, I'm disappointed you think I'm stupid." He took two steps forward, and Kirsten raised her weapon threateningly at his movement. He stopped. "You kiss me, I 300

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give her to you. That's all there is to it, Kirsten. Take it or leave it." He was in no position to make deals, and he knew it. Kirsten skirted a glance at Raven. The fear in her eyes was instinctive now, not the terror that had gripped her at coming to and finding a mad man holding her captive. Raven had the look of a woman who'd known her one moment of happiness wouldn't last. I'll be damned if I let her let go of that happiness so easily. She aimed directly at Roan's head. Loud, rapid gunfire came from behind Kirsten, and she realized in a split second that when she'd kicked open the door, it'd stayed open, and the gunfire was coming from the mens' room across the hall. Ash... Her gun was ripped out of her hands, and then Roan yanked her toward him. His mouth covered hers, and her body damned her when it responded the way it always had to his consummate skill. "Oh yeah, it was worth it," he said gutturally when he drew back, chuckling at her stunned expression, "to see you fall for me again." In a move he'd caught her on too damn many times to count, her feet went out from under her and she went crashing to the floor, flat on her back. Dragging Raven beside him, Roan disappeared around the corner.

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Chapter 37 "Casey, dammit, no!" Ash's voice floated to Kirsten seconds after Roan grabbed Raven and was gone. Her back felt like it'd been broken in two, but that pain was second to knowing she'd fallen for Roan's ruse like a complete amateur. He'd thrown her first by acting like he was off-kilter by her insinuation that he'd joined Jameson's cause for sick sexual reasons, then by his jealousy over her relationship with Ash, and finally by her own concern for Ash. Her humiliation and anger at herself was made worse when Ash ducked into the bathroom, clearly putting her ahead of the mission, too. "Go! Dammit, don't let him get away. He's got her," she screamed at him, shoving herself to her feet despite the dagger of pain that shot through her tailbone. Once she was standing, she pulled out her handgun and ran after him, pure adrenaline diminishing the pain. She caught up with him outside the swinging kitchen doors. "Casey followed him," Ash told her. "He's got Jameson's gun." "Jameson?" "Dead." "Good." They proceeded carefully into the kitchen, expecting trouble, but when Kirsten saw that the back door into the parking lot behind the restaurant was just closing, she took off toward it. 302

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"Let my wife go!" Casey was no longer running as he shouted, Kirsten noticed as she emerged into the almost moonless night. He fired a few threatening bursts well away from his wife. The power grid had to have been disabled for at least a block around the restaurant. She couldn't see anything until she waved Ash toward the right and she moved off to the left. Then Raven's white dress shone in the center of the parking lot like a beacon. Roan was holding Kirsten's gun directly on her temple, one arm tight around her waist. Where the hell's the primary back-up team? She spoke to them through her earpiece, but there was no answer. Casey alone faced Roan. Though he was beyond fear, Kirsten knew he couldn't possibly win. A fierce wind suddenly blew over Kirsten, driving her back, and something even darker than the night fell from the sky. Before she even made out the stealth helicopter clearly, Kirsten opened fire on it. The bullets hitting the formidable shell of the chopper lit up the sky like little firecrackers exploding. She thought she heard Roan demand, "Climb", and then her eyes made out the lines of the flexible ladder that had been thrown down to them. She couldn't shoot at Roan without hitting Raven. He'd dropped the gun out of necessity, and he was climbing right behind her, growling at her to get going. Fighting the wind, Kirsten ran closer. Dammit, she had no choice. If they didn't get Raven now, it was all over. "Ash?" "I hear you," he shouted through the crackling radio earpiece. She could hear the frustration in his voice. 303

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"I'm almost behind Roan. I want you to shoot her in the right foot. I'll get him. On three." "Understood." Kirsten closed one eye, trying to steady herself in the highpowered wind the chopper was driving down on them, and concentrated on her target as she counted. "One, two, three." She fired on the back of Roan's right hand at the same time Ash fired on Raven. Roan's hand flew off the ladder, Raven screamed in pain as the bullet connected with her foot and she let go in shock. Roan held onto the ladder with his good hand. Despite the blood gushing out of his injured hand, he grabbed for her, seemed to catch her by the hair for a moment, then she plummeted through the air to the cement. Kirsten didn't wait to see how she was. She fired at Roan again, but he'd already abandoned his captive. He swung himself up to the top of the ladder and into the chopper as it soared away. She'd hit him, several times, but it didn't slow him down. He'd disappeared before she could evaluate how badly he was injured. Her instincts told her he'd survive. He always does. In the stunned silence around them in the moments that followed, Kirsten looked down to see Casey kneeling by Raven, holding her, murmuring love and promises to her. She was alive, Kirsten acknowledged with a strangled sob that carried relief and regret in the many dark places inside herself. Nothing had gone according to plan this night. With a loud crackle that caused both her and Ash to reach up to their radio earpieces, Angelo's voice cut in abruptly. "— there? Kirsten? Ash?" 304

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Kirsten teeth clenched. How very convenient. Now that it was all over, Angelo had joined them from the compound again. "We're here," she reported. "Intact?" "We are." "Mission status?" Like you don't already know. "Roan escaped. Raven is with us. She's alive but injured. I'm taking her and Casey into protective custody and bringing them back to the compound. I have no idea if my primary team survived—" "They reported in a few minutes ago at Airlock 3." "They what?" "They'll be debriefed immediately," Angelo assured her, sounding as angry and in need of explanations as she was. "Make sure Celine's team is waiting at the airlock." "Understood." "And then you're going to explain what the hell this sham of a mission was supposed to be about tonight." She waited for his response, frowning in the silence that followed. When he finally spoke, he asked, "Where's Jameson?" Kirsten met Ash's gaze when he said, "Send Housekeeping. They can clean up what's left of him." Together, they removed their radio earpieces. In the distance, sirens made Kirsten kneel by Raven. "We need to get out of here now. The van's gone. We'll have to see if the limo was taken." Raven squinted from Ash, who looked no different than he had before, to her as though she'd just realized something. "Kris?" 305

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Kirsten nodded. "You're not ... our neighbors." "We were sent in to protect you." "And we need to get out of here now," Ash said, starting to pick her up. Wordlessly, Casey shook his head and Ash backed off to let him pick her up. "Which way?" he demanded harshly, then glanced down at his wife. Raven touched her fingertips to his cheek. Kirsten saw them glisten when she pulled back. Casey was crying.

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Chapter 38 Kirsten and Angelo walked into the debriefing room, and Ash immediately saw that she'd been unsuccessful in her interrogation of her mentor. In fact, he could see Angelo had done everything short of cut her off at the knees for questioning him. She was unnaturally pale. Unthinkable as it was, Ash could only conclude that Angelo had little sway over Shannon McKee, the way he'd had over Giles Jameson. Jameson was corrupt, a man who'd made mistakes that gave those around him leverage against him. Angelo had used Jameson's own sins to get his way more than once. McKee's word was law in the Network. She held the power wherever she was—D.C. or headquarters. Even if Angelo didn't agree with the way this mission had gone down, he'd had no choice but to go along with McKee's plans. At the moment, none of that mattered. "What's the matter?" Kirsten asked as soon as she sat down and glanced at Ash. "What makes you think you killed him?" McKee asked Ash. Ash could feel Kirsten staring at him in confusion, but he didn't turn to her. "My aim tells me I killed Jameson. I must have put fifty bullets in him." The truth of the matter was, he'd lost count of the number of rounds he'd expelled at the man. The image of that sick bastard restraining Kirsten so tightly she couldn't move, raping her while she'd screamed to a sound-proof room, had kept him from any rational thought. He'd fired viscerally, 307

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pumping bullet after bullet into the son of a bitch. Casey's voice had been what finally stopped him. "He must have been wearing body armor." "He was wearing an Armani suit," Ash corrected with barely a thread of control. He wished now that he'd shot him in the head and ended it all. "What's going on?" Kirsten demanded in frustration. "Jameson's body wasn't recovered from the restaurant," Ash told her without looking away from McKee's flinty brown eyes. "I thought you said he went down?" "He did. There was blood everywhere." "It could have been planted. Did you take a pulse?" Ash expelled a breath of disbelief. "I wasted the mother. There was no point taking a pulse. I didn't have time anyway. Harris grabbed Jameson's weapon and took off with it after Emory and Raven. I had to pursue." Kirsten didn't mention that he hadn't gone directly after Casey. That he'd stopped long enough to make sure she was alive first. "We made it abundantly clear in the mission briefing that the Harris' weren't our concern. As long as they didn't take her alive, all the two of you needed to concern yourselves with was bringing Jameson and Emory in or down." "The blood was probably planted," Kirsten said softly, the faintest hint of accusation in her tone. "They were ahead of us from the very beginning." McKee turned her chair slightly to fix her unyielding gaze on her. "What makes you say that?" 308

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Kirsten gave her the respect she commanded, despite her reluctance to do so. "I know we verified that Jameson wasn't working with Terranzo anymore, but they must have engineered that for appearances, too. Terranzo was working with him tonight. That stealth chopper had his ring written all over it. This was well planned. You used abeyance ops because you knew it was going to be a bloodbath. Your goal wasn't both of them because you knew you couldn't get them both. You used Raven and her husband to try to get one of them. If Ash says Jameson nailed him to the wall, then he did. But Jameson was prepared. I think you knew exactly how this was going to go down. But you didn't expect Jameson to walk out despite his injuries." McKee laced her long, thin fingers together, staring at her hard in the silence that followed Kirsten's irrefutable stream of logic. After a moment, she inclined her dark head toward her in commendation for her cleverness. "You only left one thing out." "Oh?" Standing, Shannon walked slowly around the table to face them both. "We fully expected Raven Harris to be captured or killed. We knew Roan wouldn't be taken, which meant he'd be the one to abduct her." "You expected us to be killed," Kirsten summed up, and Ash heard the edge in her tone. "We expected you to be injured severely enough to render you incapable of pursuing him. Emory could have just as easily shot you back there as knocked you flat on your ass, Ulrick. Have you considered that? He may have played you, 309

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but we underestimated his feelings for you. He couldn't get himself to shoot you in a situation that required him to. And we underestimated the two of you." McKee walked around the table again, and Ash and Kirsten exchanged a quick glance. They'd been sent out there blind tonight. It was a goddamn miracle anyone had made it back to the compound alive. Ash didn't like being toyed with by their superiors any more than Kirsten did. "We didn't expect you to shoot her to keep her from being taken, not even superficially. You both performed above and beyond expected standards out there tonight." The praise came out of nowhere and it was uncomfortable for both of them because they were both too aware they'd let Jameson get away. "Explaining my actions to either of you is unnecessary," McKee continued coldly, "but as you're two of the best operatives we have in this time of crisis, I give you fair warning that Angelo's feelings for agents will not override the tenets I've set down again. Absolutes are the only way to achieve our prime directive. We have to give up any semblance of a personal life, any foolish notions of love and commitment to anything but the Network. I won't ask anything of you I won't require of myself as well. The two of you need to understand that the Network is the only thing standing between order and a world overrun with evil. If you're the best we have, then you'll survive accepting this. Survival is, after all, what you've been trained to do better than anyone." 310

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"So what happens now?" Kirsten asked quietly a moment after the firm but impassive speech. Angelo spoke this time. "Reb Porter has been located. Our team is already in play." Which meant Raven Harris and her husband were out of Jameson's reach. She was safe from them now. They couldn't use her for leverage in locating Porter with her and her husband in protective custody. "Natalie Francis went deep?" Kirsten's tone revealed her negative feelings about the prospect. "An hour ago," Angelo offered without details. "You don't approve?" Shannon asked pointedly. "As her mentor, I'd have to say no. I don't approve. She's not ready for a deep cover op. I'm sure I wasn't consulted because of the time factor, but I hope you have a contingency plan. If you plan to use her and Porter as bait, like you did with Raven tonight, she's going to fold. Porter will be unprotected on the inside." Mentors were always consulted when a low level operative was put on a hard case. Ash was stunned to hear that Kirsten hadn't been consulted on her own recruit before she was put in the field. When all Angelo did was incline his head and say 'Duly noted', Ash was even more disbelieving. McKee pushed something across the desk. Kirsten leaned forward, took it, and then handed Ash one of the slips of paper. There was an address on it. "We've secured new residences for the two of you. All of your things are being moved as we speak. You'll both be on closed quarter standby for the next thirty-six hours." 311

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With that, they were dismissed.

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Chapter 39 "What are you doing?" Ash asked as Kirsten diverted into a briefing room two doors away from the one they'd left Shannon and Angelo in. She had to know exactly what was going on. She damn well realized that neither Angelo nor Shannon would tell them, so she'd planted a bug before they were dismissed. Without looking up, she put one receiver into her ear, then handed the other to Ash. They listened. "You set them up," Angelo accused. Kirsten could hear the fury in his voice through her earpiece. Ash glanced up at her, but didn't speak as their eavesdrop continued. "You gave Harlow off-profile orders to pull the primary team out and come back, leaving Kirsten and Ash for dead. You probably shorted out my radio so I couldn't warn them they were on their own." "You think I wasn't as relieved as you were when they reported in?" Shannon said softly, surprising both Kirsten and Ash. "Since you planned their deaths? I don't know if I believe that," Angelo voiced Kirsten's own thoughts. "Sit down, Angelo." After a pause in which Angelo presumably did as she ordered, Shannon spoke again, "I had to do it, and you know I had no choice. You shouldn't have allowed these things in the past. It didn't have to come to this. Ulrick and Barnett now know beyond a shadow of a doubt that any hint of a personal relationship won't be tolerated again, that you can't 313

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go over my head and cover for them even if you want to. Harlow will make sure the rest of the recruits know the consequences the two of them faced out there tonight for their indiscretions. I've restored order on that count." "And you've made enemies." "I can't help that. I won't allow my authority to be challenged by any of them. You won't challenge me for this again either. If they make another mistake, I will put them in abeyance without hope of reprieve." "If you wanna put a bullet in one or both of their brains, I won't stop it, but I won't do it for you." Shannon snorted. "If I wanted that, they'd already be dead. You said they were our best operatives, and they proved that tonight. They put their personal feelings aside, and they did what they had to do, even if Jameson escaped and it meant injuring Raven Harris." "They're loyal to us," Angelo insisted. "We'll put them on separate assignments tomorrow. Following that, if they can handle twelve-hour shifts together of providing unemotional protective custody for the Harris' until Jameson is brought down for good, I'll accept your assessment." A moment of silence later, Shannon sighed and there came the sound of fingernails tapping on a surface. "Angelo, you've been given free rein of the Network for many years. Jameson knew you were watching him too closely to question your decisions often, and I trusted you when I knew I couldn't trust our head of operations. You're too valuable to even consider stripping you of your status for this." 314

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Kirsten was surprised that Shannon would even consider doing so. "You couldn't replace me if you wanted to." Angelo's voice sound cold and justifiably confident. It was the classic case of the consequences of power, Kirsten thought. Power made a man dangerous. Angelo was dangerous, maybe even more dangerous than Giles Jameson and Roan Emory. If he turned against the Network, they were lost for good. "I wouldn't want to replace you, but you'll follow my orders—not your own personal moral code," Shannon said firmly. "And your orders are?" "To stop aiding and abetting the forbidden relationships within this organization. You answer directly to me from now on. It stops here. This isn't some dating service we're running, for pity's sake. Don't tell me you're ignorant enough not to realize it was pure luck Ulrick and Barnett didn't compromise our mission. What about next time they get an itch they need scratched?" Kristen flushed at the coarse words, and she felt Ash's gaze on her. When she looked up at him, she saw a slash of color in the top of his cheeks, too. "Do you think they make their own luck, Angelo? Well, they don't. A next time could be fatal for us." The silence that followed was uncomfortable for Kirsten and Ash as much as she was sure it was for Angelo and McKee. Then, in an obvious attempt to dispel the tension 315

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between them, Shannon asked, "Has the perimeter team on Porter checked in?" "We're maintaining silence until they've made contact with Porter." Kirsten knew having them go dark was safer, but a hell of a lot more risky. If Jameson and Emory identified any part of the team and took it out, they wouldn't know until it was too late. "What about what Ulrick said about her? Is Francis capable of pulling this off?" Shannon asked. "Kirsten's right to be concerned, but Jocelyn's latest psych evals of her are more optimistic. Natalie is Vlad's daughter. She has skills we haven't begun to tap yet. We've seen that in the past with her. Only field experience brings them out." "How's the girl?" "We've established her new identity. Nova Granger. She'll be on academics until she's healed. That can't happen too soon for her." Angelo's tone remained coldly informal, bringing from his superior what sounded like a reaction of impatience and maybe even the need to explain herself. "Dammit, Angelo, I'm not a monster. I'm not Jameson. What would you have me do? You saw what Rosie and Andy's relationship did to this place. Everything we're facing now is a direct result of their indiscretions." "Giles Jameson caused what we're now facing. His corruption. Rosie and Andy were loyal to us. They were the best we had." 316

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"What do you think would happen in a situation where two ops were captured and tortured to learn our location? Now they're given a choice by their captors to give up the Network or give up their lover? We can never allow that scenario to come about, and it will—guaranteed it will—if we're lenient with them now about their personal relationships. Goddamn, can't you be realistic for once, Angelo? We have to have an absolute here. We can't harbor shadows in our midst that could mean our downfall, the way it did with Rosie and Andy." "Don't talk to me about reality, McKee," Angelo barked. "You've been so damn insulated there in Washington, you haven't faced reality for fifteen years. Reality is that every single one of our recruits is going to question their loyalty to the Network at some point in time. That's a reality you need to face. Now we foster a strong relationship between mentor and trainee, figuring when the situation comes up, the recruit will feel a bond for their mentor that'll keep them in line. Remember, Jameson was my mentor. There was no bond. That doesn't happen all the time, but it does happen. It's a fact. "Reality is that every single one of our recruits is gonna feel hurt at some point in time. It's not gonna happen just once in their careers here. It'll happen over and over, and nobody can predict it. Their life here is empty. We tell ourselves we're creating machines, but what we're really creating is people who learn better than anyone on the outside how to hide their pain. How to shove it down so deep inside themselves, they think they can't feel. But that pain will come up sooner or later. They're gonna feel it, and it's 317

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gonna make them think that even a bullet in the brain has gotta be better than the emptiness of their life. Having companionship can be the one thing that can bring an operative like that back from the edge, bring them back where they're still useful to us and themselves. "You think they can shut it off like we do, but you haven't been on the edge like these soldiers, Shannon. Your life in the Network has been on the outside. It's different in here. They have no freedom, even when they leave here and there are no missions. I agree we can't allow it to get out of hand, but when they're out there on the edge—like Kirsten and Ash are right now—the only way back is with each other. You can threaten them, you can make an example of them, you can make a bullet in the brain a certainty for them, and they're still gonna go after what they need to survive the black pain inside them. That's reality, and I'm telling you right now that no absolutes are gonna change what they're facing." "I don't understand you, Angelo," Shannon said hoarsely. "Your wife and kids were killed in that bombing over twentyfive years ago. You've cut yourself off from any semblance of romantic relationships since then. So why the hell are you so sympathetic to these operatives who can't control their personal desires? How can you accept that you and I have no choices, but you're willing to allow them what we've denied ourselves?" "It wasn't my choice. Carly was killed. Jacob and Anya were with her. Do you think I would have given them up by choice if I'd had that option?" 318

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The bitterness and pain in Angelo's deep voice made Kirsten's throat tighten in sympathy for her mentor. Angelo's tone softened slightly when he went on. "You don't understand the nature of love, Shannon, and I've never needed to question why. Your old man was given the task of starting this place. He gave his life to it. He willingly gave you, your brother, and your mother up 'for the greater good'. How many times did he say that? I can't imagine what that must have done to all of you. Maybe it made you unfeeling. Maybe you understand why he did it now, whether you like it or not. But until you're willing to accept anything, even a bullet between the eyes, to be with someone in some way, any way you can, you'll never understand what it's like to have no choice about what you're feeling." Clearly, the two of them were at an impasse they almost seemed to accept in the moments—and deep sighs—that followed. Kirsten swallowed, and she saw her own uneasiness mirrored in Ash's eyes. "You'll make them understand the consequences for disobedience, Angelo," Shannon said evenly at last, "if they didn't already get it through my message tonight. You'll make sure what happened between Rosie and Andy doesn't happen in this place ever again." The sound of footsteps made Kirsten jump slightly, and she pulled the receiver out of her ear. McKee had left the briefing room. Kirsten and Ash moved further into the room they were in, out of sight, as the footsteps passed them. The intercom came on, preventing them from speaking. "Ulrich, report to Psych." 319

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Kirsten had been expecting this. McKee would rake them over the coals in an effort to keep them on the straight and narrow. "They'll call me next," Ash said. "Meet me in the basement when my eval is done, near the pipes." Taking a deep breath, Kirsten nodded. When she left the room, she saw Angelo had also emerged. He'd noticed she and Ash hadn't gone far after they were dismissed, but neither of them spoke as he fell into step beside her.

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Chapter 40 Kirsten kept her gaze steady on the Network psychologist. Jocelyn Dominica's coolly assessing dark eyes revealed no hint of emotion as what felt like endless silence followed Kirsten's entrance into her office. Kirsten calmed herself, knowing the psychiatrist was trying to make her nervous. Finally, Jocelyn turned wordlessly toward the series of monitors on the wall beside her desk. She aimed the remote at the monitors, obviously preparing playbacks. The image of her and Ash making love on the Gripentrogs' living room floor showed in one monitor. In the next monitor, Raven Harris walked out the front of her house as if she didn't have a clue she was literally a moving target. When the counselor faced her, Kirsten kept her expression unemotional. "Are you aware that McKee initially wanted to put Harlow and Murray on this mission?" Jocelyn asked in her honey-smooth voice. "I wasn't aware." "Angelo assured her that you and Ash were ideal for it. There's a lot of chemistry between the two of you. I believe he knew how convincing the two of you would be for the Harris', and that would prove necessary in protecting them." Jocelyn wasn't asking for a response, and Kirsten wouldn't give her one until she required one. She'd learned how to handle Jocelyn following so many years of passing evaluations—experiences that had left her feeling drained.

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In her hypnotizingly calm voice, Jocelyn continued, "You and Ash work well together, especially in a situation such as this one. That's not surprising, given your history together." The silent expectation of a response forced Kirsten to say simply, "The Vegas mission." Satisfaction in her expression, Jocelyn nodded, then rose from behind her desk. She moved over to the monitors, remote in one hand. Turning back to Kirsten with her hands behind her slender back, Jocelyn almost seemed to be enjoying herself. Beyond that, however, the psychiatrist had never betrayed any emotion since the day Kirsten had met her. Her coolness was something that put off almost everyone, especially the recruits who quickly learned to fear her. Like a robot, Jocelyn made a slight adjustment to the equally immaculate and feminine suit she wore before she gave the monitors her attention once more. The past came back to Kirsten in black and white on the next screen. The locker room. The showers. Steam. Ash, making love to her with harsh expletives that seemed to be wrung deliriously from him. Her strangling moans over the sound of the water as he slammed gloriously inside her body over and over... This was a test. Just a test, Kirsten reminded herself fiercely. And, dammit, she was determined not to fail. She wouldn't give anything away. "Both of you received the highest commendations for the successful completion of the Vegas mission," Jocelyn reminded unnecessarily. "The two of you achieved Level 3 status following the mission." 322

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One of the hardest levels to achieve in the Network was Level 3 status. Less than ten percent of operatives made that level, instead staying at Level 4 for the duration of their careers. "Would you care to comment on any of this, Kirsten?" Eyes narrowed, Kirsten said clearly, "We performed within the parameters of mission profiles at all times while on the job." "And after?" "We were both young. It was tension. Then it was over." Kirsten betrayed no emotion about the fact, not even casual dismissal. She stated the facts only. She knew Jocelyn would be looking for defensiveness or a need to over-explain everything. Cruelly, the psychiatrist froze all the monitors on images that should have brought nervous hemming and hawing from Kirsten. "As I recall, Ash requested another deep cover immediately after. He was out for the next four months. There's been no indication of any personal involvement between the two of you since that one encounter. Is that correct?" "You've been monitoring us. What have your evaluations told you?" Kirsten said simply. Jocelyn glanced at her, her smooth, coffee-colored skin adding to her unruffled appearance, and she agreed, "I've confirmed it meant nothing to either of you, nothing more than a release from two weeks of mounting tension." 323

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Jocelyn had the power to elevate or destroy recruits in their ranks. Kirsten sensed that the psychiatrist didn't work for power, but for some kind of enlightenment from the behavior of the human race. Truthfully, though, Kirsten didn't know her well. Jocelyn didn't allow herself to be vulnerable to that kind of scrutiny. "It hasn't affected your work ... until the Harris mission. Perhaps the reason it hasn't seemed to affect either of you is because Angelo kept the two of you from similar situations to the Vegas mission. This was the first op you've had posing as lovers since that one. But you didn't wait until after the mission this time. Why?" "The tension was greater. The Harris' are a lot different than the subject in the Vegas op. They're basically good people." "Do you have repressed feelings for Ash that rose up again during this mission? You've never felt tension with other male operations you've been paired with. What is it about Ash that does this to you?" Kirsten met Jocelyn's probing gaze steadily. "As you said, there's chemistry between us, and it was easy to use that on this mission. It was called for. We were able to protect the Harris' from the inside as well as being able to manipulate events to Network advantage because they trusted us." Jocelyn couldn't argue Kirsten's points. She and Ash had accomplished in less than a week what any other team couldn't have done in months. In terms of their success, they had a solid string of them. They were the highest of any other Level 3 operatives, with Kirsten only a point or two higher 324

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than Barnett—and they'd served the Network without question or decline in their years. Their six-month evaluations were always exemplary. They both received full marks consistently. Jocelyn had nothing on her. Yet Kirsten understood McKee's dilemma more fully than she had before now. Better to make an example of Kirsten and Ash to ensure that everyone in the current and future generations within their organization understood the high price divided loyalties carried. Despite the facts and the ominous warnings from all sides, Kirsten wondered if there could be a way...

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Chapter 41 They didn't speak until they reached the lower bowels of the compound, the only place in the facility that wasn't bugged. Very few operatives knew about this place—Kirsten knew about it only because Roan had shown it to her. No one could possibly overhear them over the rattle and hum of the huge pipes that did some of the basic work of keeping the compound functioning each day. "I didn't give anything away," Kirsten said as they approached the pipes. "I didn't either." When she turned to him, Ash said, "They played us like goddamn pawns out there tonight. And then tried to give us medals." "They're keeping us in the dark for a reason. I know Angelo doesn't like this, but he's not going to give away anything to us. He can't. McKee's not giving him any room to. But something's happening." "Did he tell you something?" "No. But he made it clear that if I kept trying to find out what it was, I wouldn't be around here much longer." She'd probably never forget how cold Angelo had been before the mission debrief earlier. She'd been able to push her mentor in the past, goad him into giving her something, though he'd never given her it all. This time, he'd been as ruthless as Jameson always was. She'd believed him when he'd said he'd have her canceled if she defied the Network. He'd do it whether he personally wanted to or not. 326

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"So nothing we accomplished amounts to anything." Kirsten nodded tightly. "We verified that Raven doesn't have the information on Jameson and the Network. Jameson's capture is what they wanted tonight. Raven didn't matter because she has no idea where Porter is. If they'd have captured her, they would have figured out sooner or later they couldn't get Porter through her, and killed her. Saved the Network the trouble and cost of protecting them. I think Comm cut out tonight, with or without Angelo's help when the assault went down, because they got the location on Porter. They sent Nat and her perimeter team out and cut their losses with us, except we were still active on the bio monitors, so Angelo checked in later. Tomorrow they're going to give us a nice, cushy little job to keep us out of the way. They're going to put us on Raven and Casey's security team, just like we overheard." Ash put an arm on the pipe next to her, lowering his head as he listened to her logic, logic he didn't dispute. They were Level 3 operatives, but they were expendable. They'd been trained to be machines performing on call, and waited patiently until that time came. Kirsten no longer saw any point romanticizing her role in the organization. She'd done that for years, believing she was an important cog in a machine that meted out justice and worked only when the team came together fluidly. She believed in their purpose, their rightness, but she wanted more. She wanted the impossible—she wanted something for herself. Angelo was just another cog in that machine; he took orders like she did, 327

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so she didn't blame him for his role in putting her in their planned cancellation. "They never intended for us to survive tonight," Ash said heavily, clearly remembering what they'd heard when they'd eavesdropped after the debriefing. "McKee planned it offprofile. She made an example of us to punish us for Tuesday night. You were right that they knew then." "Angelo tried to warn us Tuesday night. At least McKee planned our suicide mission without Angelo," Kirsten said a little desperately. She didn't want Angelo to be as calculating as Giles Jameson had been, even after the unexpectedly merciless way he'd put her in her place before the debrief tonight. "Why in the hell didn't you tell me Jameson raped you?" Ash said suddenly, looking straight into her eyes. She could tell he wanted to be angry at her for holding back from him, but he felt too much to do anything except show her his pain over it. "How do you know that?" "The son of a bitch told me. He told me he ... he..." His teeth were clenched hard enough to break. "...he restrained you. So tight you couldn't move. And no one could hear you when you screamed. He said he and Roan planned it. Roan came to your rescue, and the relationship the two of you had made his capture legitimate when you showed what everyone believed was grief. But you lost your protection with him gone, didn't you, honey? That's what you really mourned." Kirsten looked away, feeling as vulnerable and exposed as she had during that nightmare that'd seemed like it would 328

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never end. When Ash dragged her forward, roughly bringing her against his chest, she couldn't stop the sob filling her. The memory of the machine Jameson put her in, a steel contraption that'd manacled her arms and legs spread-eagle, a machine Jameson could move in any position, including folding almost in half with the flick of a switch, crammed a scream into her throat and choked her. She heard Emory's words again: 'He never intended that to be a one-time adventure, sugar. If I hadn't claimed you for myself, he would have done it over and over until he got tired of you or you killed yourself so you'd never have to face it again.'' Kirsten shuddered violently at the memory of Roan's admission, and she heard Ash groan in agony. Roan had saved her. He'd come into the room that day ... night, and the look on his face had fooled her completely. Based on what Ash had just told her, she couldn't believe Roan's expression had been real. Even if he hadn't actively participated, he'd helped plan her rape. He and Jameson planned it all, but maybe Roan had expected to find something much different when he walked in. Maybe Jameson wasn't really supposed to rape her, but to simulate it. Roan had intended to intervene before anything serious happened. She'd been bleeding severely when he got her out of the contraption, put his own shirt on her, and carried her to his private apartment above the ETI business offices. He'd bandaged her and stopped her bleeding. He'd never been tender before or after the hellish night that followed, but he had been then. Each time she woke, screaming without her 329

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full voice because of the rawness of her throat during the hours of torture Jameson put her through, Roan had been there to comfort her and hold her gently in his arms. She'd believed irrevocably that night that Roan would have killed Jameson if he wasn't head of operations. Roan could have killed me tonight. He could have done it easily. Logically, he should have. He would have escaped with Raven if he had. But he didn't. Why didn't he? What McKee had said about Roan having feelings for her didn't make sense to Kirsten. Roan hadn't loved her. He'd cared for her, but he'd never revealed human compassion in any other way, save those few hours following her rape. He'd understood she was traumatized. He'd made no move on her for months after, and when he did he'd kept all the lights on and he spoke to her throughout. She'd responded to him because there could be absolutely no comparison between what he did to her and what Jameson had done with the cruelty of an unfeeling monster. Kirsten remembered what she'd thought while Roan had made love to her that first time: He doesn't want to do this. But he's doing it anyway. She'd brushed the conclusion off because it hadn't been rational at the time. Not when everything he said and did bespoke of the exact opposite. Now Kirsten had to conclude that, if Roan had been working with Jameson from the start, if her rape had been planned by them, along with a lengthy sexual relationship between the two of them that nearly everyone in the Network knew about, and her supposed grief over his capture and death gave it authenticity, then it was rational. After the horrific rape that 330

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wasn't supposed to really happen, he hadn't wanted to follow the plan and make her his lover. But he'd had no choice. "I sprayed him with bullets," Ash said bitterly. "I wanted to see him bleed. I wanted him in pieces for what he did to you. I know you wanted that pleasure, but I've never felt anything so good in my life. I'm no better than them." Kirsten lifted her face to his in surprise. His grief made her bite her lip as she looked at him. "That first time in the locker room..." He shook his head in self-disgust. "I'm no better than they were to you." "That's not true. I wanted you. You didn't force me. You didn't hold a debt over my head to coerce me. I wanted you. I loved you. Then. And now." "I walked away. I treated you like..." "I did the same to you. We had to. We're not free, Ash. We pay for every kiss we steal. Every single bit of happiness we take, we pay for with a piece of our souls. We're survivors. It's the only way we can live." "Kiss to kiss?" She nodded tightly. "If we have to."

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Chapter 42 As she spoke during the mission briefing the next morning, Shannon McKee turned her attention to Kirsten. "As you pointed out, Ulrich, we now know that Terranzo is working with Jameson again." Angelo and Rhiannon Murray were also present. Kirsten didn't doubt that they wouldn't take any chance of teaming her and Ash up for this mission, though she wasn't sure why they'd chosen Rhiannon, who was on Beta team. Why not choose a member of her own Alpha Team, even if it wasn't Ash? McKee continued with the very question Kirsten had wondered the night of the bait mission. "What's the incentive for Terranzo to work with Jameson, now Jameson's gone rogue from the Network? That's what we need to know." Angelo stepped up to the briefing table when Shannon turned to him. "We've confirmed that Jameson intends to meet with Terranzo tonight on Terranzo's yacht. The two of you will be planting bugs at the site beforehand. Cara has come up with some special, untraceable devices, since Jameson or Emory will do a sweep before proceeding with the meeting. Once the bugs are in place, the two of you will be doing surveillance of their meet from the location specified on your panels." "You want us to find out why Terranzo is working with Jameson," Rhiannon confirmed, and Angelo nodded. "Once you find out, report back to the compound for debriefing. Your listening post has already been set up and a recorder is 332

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in place to send everything back to headquarters in real time. Pick up your panels and mission requisites from Vlad. Your transport is waiting in Airlock 2. Dismissed."

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Chapter 43 Terranzo's yacht was docked near a slip in the harbor, guarded by a man who wasn't openly armed. Kirsten gave Rhiannon the signal before ducking under the water. She found Terranzo's yacht easily. In back of it, she came up out of the water and peeked out to see Rhiannon coming down the dock toward them. She looked convincingly lost. The itty-bitty bikini she wore was a big part of the charm that had the guard's full attention. Soundlessly, Kirsten pulled herself out of the water with the light line she'd secured over the rail, onto the boat deck, and ducked below without further ado. Resisting the temptation to snoop, she took the equipment she needed out of her waterproof bag. It only took a few minutes to install the bugs in each room. As she backed out of the cabin, she cleaned up the mess she'd made on the way in. Silently, she entered the water again, then signaled to Rhiannon that the first phase of the mission was complete. Less than ten minutes later, Kirsten went below in the boat from which they'd be doing their listening. It was docked not too close, but not too far from Terranzo's. After changing into dry clothes, she's just started to worry about her partner when Rhiannon came in. "Any problems?" Kirsten asked, and Rhiannon shook her head. "Another guard came out of nowhere, but he was just as eager to help me find my way, so it was no problem. I just had to shake them pretty hard to get them to heel. No one saw me come here. How did the plant go?" 334

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"Simplicity itself." Rhiannon nodded. "Now we wait." She went to put shorts over her bikini bottom. Kirsten flipped on the equipment in their listening post. There were no obvious sounds, but the bugs were working. Not speaking, they both got a cup of fresh-brewed coffee. As they took seats near their post, Kirsten was painfully aware how few friendships she had within the Network. She didn't know Rhiannon well, nothing outside of that she was a thoroughly competent operative who could be counted on. It was strange enough that Kirsten even had the desire to talk to her about personal matters, but actually doing it was harder than she could have imagined. Rhiannon was as unapproachable as Kirsten imagined she was herself to those around her. When Kirsten took out the bug wand she'd gotten from inventory before leaving the compound earlier, she realized Rhiannon had been aware of her internal struggle when the agent said, "You really are paranoid now, Ulrick." Kirsten wanted to make sure the listening boat wasn't set up to monitor the two of them, along with Terranzo's meet. The lights all remained green, but Kirsten looked around for any evidence of bugs that looked similar to the ones she'd put on Terranzo's yacht. Once the sweep was done and she was satisfied that they weren't being evaluated by their superiors, she sat down and sipped from her mug again. Rhiannon was staring at her expectantly, and Kirsten finally started in an awkward tone, "Has Harlow said anything to you?" 335

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Rhiannon glanced at the bug wand as if to say 'Are you sure we're safe here?' "We're clear," Kirsten assured her. "Has Harlow said anything to me about what?" "The bait mission with the Harris'. Did he mention if McKee gave him off-profile orders?" Rhiannon's dark eyes showed little emotion outside of boredom and fatigue. "Noah wouldn't have told me if McKee had. Team leaders tend to be stingy with information that isn't need-to-know by the team members." "You don't know anything then?" Kirsten persisted. "I know you and Ash got caught doing something stupid, something that jeopardizes ... a lot." "A lot of other relationships?" Kirsten clarified, remembering the curious looks she and Ash had gotten from other operatives that morning. Rhiannon shrugged. "Any relationships, period. Everything'll be suspect now, regardless of whether it's anything more than it should be or not. They want us to be loyal to the Network, to our superiors, but not to anyone else inside or outside. Don't tell me you don't already know that." Kirsten did know that, but she was disturbed by the blame in Rhiannon's voice, even if the other operative didn't betray any strong personal emotion about the facts she laid out. "So you agree with McKee? You agree that our lives should belong a hundred percent to them? That we shouldn't have anything for ourselves because we gave that up when we agreed to join?" 336

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"If we want to survive, then we have to be careful. We can't let ourselves believe a moment goes by that they don't know exactly what we're doing. And that means creating our own moments. Private ones they can't find." It was true that Kirsten had kept to herself in the Network. She didn't listen to rumors, nor do any gossiping herself. She realized now she'd been completely out of the loop with her withdrawal. Rhiannon, and probably most of the other operatives, apparently knew a lot more about escaping notice from their superiors than she did. She'd never paid attention to the Network's surveillance of their own operatives before. Her life had been exclusively Network missions—what did it matter? "How?" she asked, helplessly giving away her surprise. "You find ways. You make your own opportunities. You get ... creative." Hearing this from Rhiannon was odd in itself. Not knowing much about her, Kirsten had nevertheless pegged her as someone who did her job with absolute focus. She didn't follow her heart. She followed orders. End of story. But what Rhiannon was saying sounded personal, even if she wasn't making it that way with details. Kirsten certainly hadn't heard Rhiannon's named linked with any other operative's. Did she have a personal relationship with someone in the Network? How had they managed to carry on undetected, if they had? "I forget your one relationship was condoned—or basically overlooked—by our superiors," Rhiannon mused, leaning her face on her hand propped on the post. 337

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She meant Roan, of course, Kirsten acknowledged. Who else in the Network could get away with his come-and-getme-if-you-think-you-can exploits? "I have to admit," Rhiannon said with what could almost be described as a smile. "Crazy as I think you and Ash were for damning the consequences with your actions, it's nice to know it's possible for someone like you to get carried away with passion. And Ash's not a bad guy to get carried away with. Even if it can never happen again." "Why is it nice to know?" Kirsten asked warily. Rhiannon looked down at her cup. "They're breeding robots. It's what they're trying to do anyway. I thought ... everybody thought ... they'd succeeded with you. I don't know about you, but I don't like the idea of being a mindless, follow-orders-period robot." While there had been a time in her life Kirsten wanted to be a machine that didn't have to feel, she'd changed. Feeling the way she did about Ash had changed her. She couldn't accept that this was her life, any more than Rhiannon seemed to want to accept it. Serving twenty-four-seven. No love. No joy. Nothing to look forward to. Nothing to make it all worth it. Picnics in the park. Kisses in the moonlight. She was on the edge, the edge she'd overheard Angelo talk about after the debrief the day before: 'We tell ourselves we're creating machines, but what we're really creating is people who learn better than anyone on the outside how to hide their pain. How to shove it down so deep inside themselves, they think they can't feel. But that pain will come up sooner or later. They'll feel it, and it'll make 338

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them think that even a bullet in the brain has to be better than the emptiness of their life. Their life here is empty. They have no freedom, even when they leave here and there are no missions. When they're out there on the edge, the only way back is with each other. You can threaten them, you can make an example of them, you can make a bullet in the brain a certainty for them, and they'll still go after what they need to survive the black pain inside them. That's reality. No absolutes can change what they're facing. Having companionship can be the one thing that can bring an operative like that back from the edge, bring them back where they're still useful to us and themselves.' Even if Angelo couldn't help them, he understood. Rhiannon seemed to understand, too. Kirsten realized just how much she needed that. Just for someone to understand how black the future looked to her right now. "What would you do?" she asked under her breath. Rhiannon looked up at her again with sympathy in her eyes that didn't match the smile that rose tremulously on her full lips. She didn't resemble even one bit the cool, unflinching operative Kirsten had believed her to be. "Whatever I can. Whatever I can get away with, even if I can only get away with it once or twice."

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Chapter 44 The sound of footsteps came through the monitors, and Kirsten threw down her sandwich. It was just after dark. She never would have imagined Jameson would come out before midnight. She verified that everything was working, including the recorder that automatically sent back to headquarters. "I did a sweep already," Terranzo said. "It's clean." "So humor me." The voice wasn't the one Kirsten expected and had prepared herself for, but the little hairs at the back of her neck stood up anyway. It was unmistakably Roan Emory's silky smooth voice. Behind that, she heard Terranzo talking to his men, giving orders to make sure the boat was secure while they talked. A long few minutes of silence followed, and Kirsten waited nervously. If anyone could discover the untraceable bugs, Roan could. She saw her worry mirrored in Rhiannon's tight expression. "You're early," Terranzo said, and the silence stretched again. Kirsten clenched her teeth. She knew back at Comm Central, Angelo and McKee were just as tense as the two of them were. Finally, Roan said, "I don't have time to spare. Let's get this over with. I smell the Network closing in, even if they're not on the perimeter."

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Yeah, get it over with, Kirsten thought anxiously. Get the party started, and don't get spooked before you give us our present. "Where's Jameson?" Terranzo asked, slight uncertainty in his voice. "He was indisposed," Roan told him vaguely. Kirsten could hear him moving around the room; he refused to sit down when Terranzo offered. He never could sit still for longer than a few minutes. Emory spoke again, "If he could have made it, he would have. Since this involves mostly me and you, I think we can do without him this once. Can't we?" Kirsten wondered why Jameson hadn't come. This was a pretty important meeting. Was he worried about Network involvement, even outside the perimeter of the meeting? Or was it more than that? Had Jameson been injured two nights ago? Kirsten could only hope. "I heard it didn't go down well when you tried to grab the woman. You didn't get the evidence either," Terranzo said, his tone tight. "We didn't expect to. Porter has it. But we'll find him. Don't worry about that," Roan said in his too-jovial tone. "Do you have a location on the other reporter?" "Soon. This isn't why I'm here, Michael." "You're right," Terranzo agreed suddenly. "Those problems don't concern me. But I won't be held responsible for your failure. I provided exactly what you asked for. Back-up and escape." 341

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Kirsten could hear the defensiveness in Terranzo's hard voice. Surprisingly, Roan made the effort to placate him before the mobster could go on. "You did what we asked, Michael, and we'll live up to our end of the bargain." Terranzo actually sighed in relief, and then chuckled slightly as though it had caused him undue distress. "Then you have a plan for getting back into the Network?" Getting back into the Network? Kirsten was sure she'd misheard. Was Roan actually going to attempt to get back in? For what? He'd never escape them then. The walls would come down around him the second he entered the compound. He had to know that. Even if Roan was the most likely candidate for getting in and out undetected, even he wouldn't be able to do it. "They'll take me back as soon as the evidence Porter has is located. Once I'm back inside, you'll get your information whenever it's feasible for me to provide it without their suspicion." He wasn't planning to get back in and out, Kirsten knew now. He was planning to give himself up to them and seemingly become their operative again. He was insane! "Within a year, you'll have all the leverage you need to get the resources R.E.D. requires for the partnership," Roan continued. Kirsten's gaze met Rhiannon's, and she saw the shock she felt written there. "What makes you think your superiors will ever trust you again?" Terranzo asked—a damn good question. 342

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Roan laughed, confident and easygoing as usual in the face of the impossible, in the way that creeped most people out. "Let me put it to you this way, Michael. Would you rather have the most dangerous man in the world sleeping with you, or out where you can't control or track his movements?" So Roan planned to surrender himself to the Network once the evidence Reb Porter had was retrieved, swear loyalty once more, while acting as a mole for Terranzo, who would then have valuable intelligence to convince the terrorist group R.E.D. to partner with him. Only Roan would be so bold. If not for the Network's trap that had caught the details of this particular meeting, they would have been completely blind to Roan's turncoat ways, too. Within a year of his return, the Network would have been crippled beyond repair.

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Chapter 45 Kirsten waited for him in her new apartment, surrounded by darkness and rain falling heavily on the city, knowing as surely as she knew when the lightning would flash, that he would come to her. They'd both returned from separate, successful assignments, received commendations and been dismissed after being told to report in the morning at 0800 hours. She and Ash had shared one single look in the hall after their back-to-back debriefings, neither of them speaking of intentions, nor promises. She'd gone to Medical and discovered that Raven had been treated, and then she and Casey had been taken from the compound in the back of a van with no windows. They'd never be able to find their way back to the compound. Celine hadn't been able to tell her more than that they were being placed in protective custody. Angelo would tell her more if he wanted her to know. Then Celine asked her if she wanted to complete the transformation back into her old self. Ash had disappeared by the time Kirsten emerged in Comm Central, so she'd taken herself home. To what looked like the apartment she'd called home a little more than a week ago at least. They'd brought all her stuff in and placed it exactly the way her former apartment had been laid out, yet it didn't feel comfortable to her. A week ago, she'd believed in the mission of the Network without a single doubt. Her single-minded loyalty had been utterly unfailing since the beginning. They'd given her what 344

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she'd lacked all her life: a sense of justice. As for love, family..her need for both had been killed along with Officer Candace Rios in a gang shooting. She'd buried both because she'd never really had either. Her need to please her parents, her fear of disappointing them, had made her do things she knew weren't just. She'd been slow to learn what Wayne had taught her from the night their first date turned into rape: not to be a victim, to protect the innocent. There was no love in the Network. They weren't her family. She was a cog in a machine that worked only when the team performed fluidly. She needed the Network. She was loyal to its premise, but something inside her had reclaimed the life she'd given up, believing through training that, in many ways, was like voluntary brainwashing she had no choice in the matter. The glimmer of life she and Ash had resurrected didn't offer her a false reality. She wasn't free to live a fantasy life that included a husband or children or even a home. She couldn't have it all. But she could have something. Whatever she and Ash could get away with, even if they could only get away with it once or twice. She would be at the Network's beck and call, she would perform in every way expected of her. And she would have a glimmer of life to fill the emptiness her lack of freedom gave her. When her doorbell rang, she didn't need to look in the video screen next to the door that showed her who was on her doorstep. She opened the door to Ash and drew back to allow him. He was soaked from head to toe as he closed and locked the door behind him. Kirsten couldn't help smiling a 345

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little, though she knew the Network had to be onto them already. He hadn't changed his coloring back to his natural blond. He was still Nate Weston, the man who'd help her unearth a part of herself she'd refused to believe could still exist. Ash held up a white, rectangular box the size of a laptop battery pack. Kirsten frowned. She had no idea what it was, but he didn't give her a chance to ask. Dripping wet, he went up the small, spiral staircase to her bedroom. She heard the soft rustle of wet clothing hitting the wood floor a moment later. Would he flaunt their decision to the Network so blatantly? She wasn't sure she wanted him to. If they weren't careful, this bit of freedom they were stealing would be over before it started. Kirsten moved up the stairs, pausing once more, warily when she saw him wearing nothing except a towel around his waist. He rubbed his soaked hair with another. The white box was now plugged into an outlet near her bed. "What is that?" she asked. "A little side creation of Cara's. She calls it 'the Diverter'." Cara Ross had developed some of the most innovative technology the world had ever seen ... and a lot the world would never see because it was available only for Network purposes. "What does it do?" "It gives us what we deserve and they can't deny us." He tossed the towel he'd been using on his hair in the empty hamper, then moved over to her. "A lot of things can 346

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block, for short portions of time, the signal our transponders normally give off for short bursts of time. Interference from satellites and other electronics. An electrical storm, like the one happening now that's going to make this foolproof. The way it's set up now, once every hour, our transponder sends in the code to allow us to show up on Network sensors. If the signal is blocked for longer than an hour, an alert goes off in the compound and they'll come looking for us." "So you're saying we have less than an hour?" Ash shook his head. "No, the box sends our codes automatically every hour." Kirsten realized giddily that the box could mean they could be together all night and not get caught. But then her logic took over. "They've bugged our apartments. They could be watching right now. They'll know you're not in yours. They'll know you're here." "I've already fixed that. I went to my apartment, showered, then I taped myself sleeping for an hour, which is why it took me so long to come. I fed the tape into their security system. As long as I'm back in time to wake up, shower and report for duty at 0800, they'll never know I wasn't really there." It sounded far too good to be true. Her mind couldn't help searching for the flaws in the plan. "Ash, has anyone ever tested this thing in the field?" He didn't need to say a word for her to understand this was another of the little devices Cara had created and never put through testing for whatever reason. 347

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"So we're the trial monkeys, and if the thing doesn't work..." Ash reached out, took her hand and drew her against his body. "...we'll have spent the night in each others' arms, come hell or high water." His hand slipped up and down her back, sending shivers of anticipation through her. "I've spent the last fifteen years as a faithful operative to this organization, Kirsten. You've done the same almost as long. If I have my choice, I'll spend the rest of my years as a faithful operative before they put me out to pasture. That's not gonna change. But I want you. I wanna love you. Whatever you can give me in whatever time we have together. That's all I want. They can have the rest." He lifted her chin, and she faced him. "What do you want, Kirsten?" She couldn't deny the twinge of fear that still urged her not to risk it, but she wouldn't give in to it. "My life, my loyalty, belongs to them," she said firmly. "My heart belongs to you." As if he'd had no clue she would agree to any of this, he exhaled in a rush, dragging her into his arms again. "I was hoping you'd say that, baby. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't." Kirsten grinned, capturing the edge of the towel around his waist and flicking it away from him. "Oh, I'm sure you would have thought of something to convince me." Laughing, he kissed her, yanking her shirt up and over her head until the sports bra she'd worn out on the op was revealed. She got rid of the unappealing garment herself, 348

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seeing his sentimental expression when he cradled her breasts lovingly in his hands. "I'm glad you didn't go back. You drove me crazy before, but I don't think I'm ever gonna get over these beauties. They're ours." "I'm glad you didn't change either." After a soapy shower to wash away the sweat and grime of the mission, Kirsten would never forget the feeling of exultation she felt when she and Ash lay back together on her bed, her old familiar bed, and she went into his arms. This wasn't an op. It wasn't a cover. It wasn't something that had anything at all to do with the Network. This was life, their privacy, their intimacy, and no one else could share it with them. "Do you feel that?" she asked, and he nodded as he looked down at her. "We're alone. Completely alone." "Yes! Ash, I'm a woman, for the first time in my life. I'm not a daughter or a wife, a punching bag for someone else's problems. I'm not a cop or ... the angel of death to criminals who escaped the justice system. I'm not an operative or a victim. I'm a woman." His eyes glowed hungrily at her words. "My woman. I like seeing you happy, baby. I wanna make you happier than you've ever been in your life." "Thank you," she said softly. "I'm the one who should be thanking you. You've already made me happier than I've ever been all my life." "Thank you for wanting me to be happy. I don't ... I don't think anyone's ever wanted that for me before." Not even 349

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Angelo. He'd known she couldn't be happy in the Network, even though she'd found the fulfillment she'd needed all her life there. Kirsten closed her eyes as Ash kissed her and she slipped into the magical, beautiful world of love only he'd brought to her. The feeling of being completely free of everything was bliss as they explored each other from head to toe, watched each other's pleasure without hurrying, laughed together when she found out how ticklish the backs of his knees were. Only once did he growl in something that wasn't joy. "What's the matter?" she asked, turning to look at him. A second before, he'd been running his tongue over the backs of her knees. "Bruises," he said softly, and she felt them even as gently as he touched her back and behind, especially around her tailbone. She could see he was remembering how he'd found her on the floor of the restroom at Pujotes. She'd been in too much pain to get up until he'd shown up, more worried about her than their prime directive. "I'm going to get a lot of bruises, Ash. I have before, and I will again. I'll take bullets. You can't go all soft every time I get hurt. It's our job. I'm alive, and I should be damned thankful about that. Like McKee said, we shouldn't have made it through that suicide mission." "I know." His voice was still much too soft, as though the implications of their dangerous career might make him change his mind about this. She couldn't help thinking about it too, as she faced forward again. If they went out on a mission and Ash spent all 350

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his energies making sure she didn't get hurt, sooner or later they'd both be cancelled. "You can take care of yourself." Kirsten turned to agree with him just as he bent to kiss her bruises lightly. She sucked in her breath sharply as his tongue touched her bare skin again. Over her bruises and over sensitive flesh that rippled in anticipation. "Am I hurting you?" "No," she said in a rush of expelled air. She was trembling and drowning when he brought his head next to hers, she turned toward him and he kissed her at an angle that excited her because their lips didn't full reach but their tongues did. She could still feel him against her skin as they tangled, then his hand slipped beneath her. Kirsten rose slightly at his urging, opening herself to him without inhibition. He was looking at her when she opened her eyes. "I love you. I breathe you. You're my air, baby." Kirsten purred in happiness at his words, and then in skyrocketing arousal when she felt him pushing against her. She rocked back toward him and smiled. His mouth tucked in against her ear, and she heard his groans of pleasure mingling with her own glorious sobs as they rocked together. As fulfillment broke over them, she moaned his name over and over until they collapsed together, and he rolled her into his arms, laughing with her exuberant cries of freedom. Kirsten kissed him, this time making full use of her lips against his. 351

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"I'm never gonna get enough of you, am I?" he said in wonder. "I knew that the first time and every time since. God, you feel good in my arms. I wanna sleep with you against me, wrapped up like this, forever." She didn't want to think about the impossibility of that. She just wanted to be in this moment with him, in this something that they could have if they were careful. "You have the eloquence of a poet, and all I can say is I love you, Ashton Barnett." When he smiled, she knew he was thinking the same thing she was. Their something couldn't be enough, but it had to be. They'd have to make it enough. What was fair? What was freedom? At the moment, in a stolen fragment of time she knew would be repeated over and over, as many times as they dared, the war between fairness and freedom fell to desperation as they clung to each other, trying to find some elusive quotient of 'enough'. She imagined a lifetime of living for these glass-bottle moments, and the sense of despair almost made her scream. But then she imagined her life before. Serving the Network like a robot, coming at their call or coming just to escape the emptiness of her life. She could do their will for the rest of her life without complaint if she had these moments with Ash. The Network fulfilled her. Ash completed her. Such was life.

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Chapter 46 Seeing Kirsten in the ETI parking lot the next morning made Ash react the way he didn't expect to. He expected to be bombarded with memories of their incredible lovemaking only hours before, with the sight and scent and nearness of her. He expected himself to ache at being unable to touch her or hold her the way he had while they slept in each other's arms. Instead, he felt happy. Settled. Complete. He could do anything. They'd talked about it before he left her apartment early that morning. They talked about switching it off, making their private world something they could separate themselves from when they were away from it, as they had to on the job. They'd been trained endlessly to do just that. If they wanted their private moments to last indefinitely, there could be no secret looks within the compound, no tell-tale caresses, no intimate words spoken. Being a Network operative wasn't a nine-to-five job. It was twenty-four-seven. They had to be ready to serve at a moments' notice. Their private world couldn't interfere with that. Talking about disconnecting, agreeing to treat each other like there was nothing between them outside their stolen moments was one thing. Actually doing it was another. Ash surprised himself when he parked, got out, and felt the biggest part of his life for fifteen years slip over him like a hand in a glove. He'd spent the last decade and a half giving himself to the organization willingly, and when he wasn't required to perform he'd felt a sense of incompleteness. In his 353

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free time, he'd roamed the city on foot, almost as though he'd been looking for something he'd never find. He'd found that something last night. He wouldn't need to roam anymore. As he would with any other operative, he greeted Kirsten politely. Her return greeting was cool. Wordlessly, they entered ETI and moved to the Network security elevator. Once inside, they waited for the body scan to identify them, then they rode down to the compound. Together, they exited the elevator and strode across the second level toward Comm to find out if they were scheduled for a mission. Ash couldn't help noticing that everyone they passed looked unbearably uncomfortable. Some of them even had looks of accusation on their faces. "Ash, Kirsten, report to my office," Angelo's voice came over the intercom. His first moment of dread came at that moment, and he turned his head toward the Tech section as he and Kirsten turned around and started in the other direction. Cara stood in her division watching them, her face showing her concern. He trusted Cara. She'd been in the Network a long time. She'd been one of the first recruits of Shannon's father, Ron McKee. Cara's loyalty remained with the organization, but she wasn't militant like most of the older ops. She'd covered for him more than once for mistakes he'd made early on. Human compassion was something she'd amazingly managed to hold onto in this sterile environment. When he'd gone to her last night, asked her to help him and Kirsten, she'd scolded him furiously, swearing like a sailor as she drew him back behind her machines that would block 354

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their conversation from Network hearing. She'd laid into him, warned him it was impossible and to not even consider it. Then she'd given him the Diverter and told him if he ever got caught with it, he was completely on his own. She'd deny she'd ever seen the thing before. If Angelo suspected something, would Cara save her own skin? In all the friendships he had within the compound, Ash knew better than to trust anyone. He and Kirsten were on their own. Bypassing the elevators, they made for the east corridor and Angelo's office. After several more accusatory looks, Kirsten glanced at him. Ash saw the rigidness of Kirsten's spine as he opened the door and she went in first. He also saw her expression. She wouldn't be moved, no matter what Angelo had to say. After closing the door, Ash stood next to her and faced Angelo, who leaned against the top of his desk and simply stared at them for more than a minute. Ash didn't flinch under the scrutiny, knowing Kirsten wouldn't give anything away either. Then Angelo pushed himself off the desk, went around it, and pulled out a panel built into the wood. He punched a code into the keypad there, then slid it back in. Ash accepted that Angelo had insulated his office so their conversation wouldn't be picked up on regular sensors. If he was going to allow this to be private, he had to know what happened between them last night, despite the presence of the Diverter. There was no other explanation. 355

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"The storm caused some interference last night," Angelo spoke finally. "The video and audio devices in Kirsten's apartment were affected for approximately four and a half hours." "I didn't install the surveillance equipment," Kirsten said coolly. "If they're faulty, you'll have to have them repaired." "They work fine. There's nothing technically wrong with them." "Do we have an assignment?" Ash changed the subject sharply. One thick eyebrow rose before Angelo nodded. "We've put Raven and Casey Harris in a safe house. The two of you will be working twelve-hour shifts with another team to keep them safe until Jameson and Emory are contained. Coordinates to the safe house are uploaded to your panels— get them from Cara before you report to the safe house. You go out as soon as we're done here." "I'd like to read the team mission profile on Reb Porter," Kirsten requested, knowing it was well within her rights, since Natalie Francis was her recruit. Angelo's response was brusque. "We'll see about that later." Her expression unhappy deference, Kirsten nodded. "Is there anything else?" Angelo leaned against the front of his desk again, staring at them silently and pointedly for a long minute. "I have to do what I have to do. I wanna make that clear to both of you. You don't have to know or understand the course of actions decided on here by myself or McKee. Things are gonna be 356

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different around here while we put this organization back together. McKee will be here in the compound instead of in Washington, and that means I won't have the freedom to run things the way I believe they should to be run. I report to her. I keep everyone in this place in line. I know everything that happens here and out there. Don't allow yourself to believe otherwise." Neither Ash nor Kirsten said a word or gave any sign that they understood what he was talking about specifically. Stepping close to them both, Angelo spoke in an angry tone, his green eyes deadly. "We own the both of you. Never forget that. What the two of you do in your free time won't be allowed to interfere with any part of what we expect of you. You're both lucky I believe you're capable of doing your jobs with the same level of efficiency you always have or you'd already be eliminated. I'm giving you notice, off the record, that's something McKee and I don't agree on. If McKee catches your doing things you're not allowed to do, if you make mistakes that cost the organization anything, I can't save you. I won't even try. She made an example of both of you during the bait mission. You survived against the odds. You both passed your evals with flying colors. You may not next time, and if you're caught, she'll put you both in abeyance without hope of reprieve. Your futures will be decided for you with a bullet." Ash said nothing, not even when Angelo said to him directly, "Be very, very careful." Then he moved to Kirsten. "Be more goddamn careful than you've ever been in your lives." 357

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When Angelo turned his back on them, Ash's instincts told him now wasn't the time to relax despite the desire to do just that. Angelo pulled the panel out of his desk again as he said, "Jocelyn will be watching you both closely at the safe house each day. I sincerely hope you both test above even your usual performance facility and my confidence in the both of you is warranted. Fair warning, the new Head of Operations requires nothing less than full marks to maintain your current status. You won't receive official commendations for surviving the suicide mission. All you've earned is your lives." Angelo punched in the code to shut off the insulation, then looked up at them, saying simply, "You're dismissed."

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Chapter 47 "Are you worried?" Ash said vaguely as they left the compound in a van. No one would except Angelo would understand what they might be worried about. Kirsten looked up at him from her panel, feeling more placid than she ever had. Angelo knew about the hours they'd spent in each other's arms, but he was going to allow it as long as their performances didn't falter and they showed no sign of any personal feelings for each other. Angelo had issued exactly what he needed to to get the reaction he'd wanted from her. He'd challenged her, and she never lost a challenge. "No. Not in the least. I've always scored top of the charts on my evaluations. So do you." Their points were off by a mere fraction that had won her the Alpha team leadership. "I have no doubts. Do you?" Living up to her every expectation of the strength she believed he possessed, Ash offered a small grin. "No doubts." As Ash drove to the safe house, she read the files uploaded to her panel. "Our cover is this: Raven and Casey believe they're in a kind of temporary witness protection program. Casey's boss gave him two months' vacation, which he's earned since he technically hasn't had a vacation in six years. They've been assured they'll be able to go back to their lives when all this is over. Jameson wasn't mentioned to them by name, but they were told he's a criminal. There's no secret organization." She looked up. "This is weird." 359

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"What is it?" Ash asked. "Says here that Jocelyn interviewed Raven before they were transferred to the safe house. Jocelyn told Raven the fish in Ripley's bedroom was dead, and Raven broke down crying. Then she said it made sense." Ash's turbulent gaze met hers, and then he changed the subject emotionlessly. "You said that Natalie wasn't ready for a deep cover mission." Kirsten sighed. "We don't know what Angelo and McKee have planned for her. If she's on the perimeter team, she can handle it. If she'll be infiltrating ... Well, she's done very little field work, and what she has done ... Let's just say there's no limit to her affection. She's young. We put her in an office once. Class D mission. She was supposed to eavesdrop on a contraband weapons' middle man in the next cubicle and get the name of his supplier. Short term mission. She was in for less than four days. In that amount of time, she fell for the guy." "Did she get the supplier's name?" "Yeah. She got it, but she had to be threatened repeatedly to give it up. Another situation we put her in, a C job, she was supposed to be gathering intel only and ended up going along on some crazy crusade against a radical underground organization that speaks out against civilians keeping arms." "Sounds like she's got a thing for ordnance." Kirsten laughed slightly. "That could be part of it. She can take apart and put a machine gun back together in under three minutes. Her aim is even better than mine. She's even made some modifications on some of our stock to increase 360

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their efficiency. Show her a gun or any kind of weapon, and she's in heaven." "So what's their plan for her?" Kirsten shook her head, glancing at him and meeting his eyes. "You heard Angelo. As soon as we pass our evals to McKee's standards, we'll be let back inside Level 3 clearance files. I want on the team they send in to take out Jameson and Emory." "Me, too." Kirsten eased out her phone and called the team at the safe house. "It's Ulrick. ETA, three minutes." "We'll be ready for the pass-off," Rhiannon Murray confirmed They reached the safe house, and they took a tour around the grounds before going to the back door. Rhiannon let them in. The other member of the security team was Noah Harlow. Kirsten could see he was vaguely uncomfortable as he pulled on his jacket, and she couldn't get herself not to ask a question she already knew the answer to, "Did Angelo order you and my primary team back to the compound on the bait mission?" He'd disappeared after making sure Raven and Casey made it inside safely. Even if she and Ash hadn't overheard Shannon and Angelo, there could be no doubt he'd known what was going to happen well in advance. Rhiannon's gaze dropped as Noah faced Kirsten coolly. "My orders are none of your concern, Ulrick," he said without emotion. 361

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"They are when our backsides are hanging in the breeze. You left us completely exposed. We could have used back-up. I lost two teams, dammit." His eyes narrowed, but he showed no other reaction. "They were fifth and sixth level abeyance ops." Kirsten had tried not to consider the number of lives that had been taken in the space of less than fifteen minutes. She couldn't think about things like that, but a lot of her anger that night before Angelo had put her in her place had to do with that loss. She'd never lost a whole team before. She'd never led a team out to slaughter deliberately, the way she'd done against her will with the suicide mission. As McKee had planned, she and Ash hadn't been informed it was a nocontest mission until it was time to go out. Harlow wasn't finished. "We each followed our orders. If you have a problem with mine, take it up with McKee. I answer to her. You may have forgotten temporarily in the chaos following your alpha mission blowing up in your face, Ulrick, but so do you. If the two of you wanna screw around, don't bring the rest of us in it with you. McKee is locking down for your lack of discipline." Rhiannon's dark gaze remained lowered, and Kirsten understood the continued, curious looks that morning. Everyone in the compound knew what had happened between her and Ash while on an important mission. She flushed, feeling Ash's hand on her arm in a restraining gesture. It was Noah that Rhiannon had taken chances with in the past, Kirsten realized. Now that Shannon had locked down the Network, that wouldn't happen again any time soon. She and 362

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Ash had inadvertently taken a form of life outside of the Network from the other operatives. Maybe they deserved the anger they were getting from the others. Or maybe it was a chance for them to get 'more creative' about escaping detection. Ash changed the subject in a frosty tone that gave nothing further away, "Anything going on here?" A low moan drifted out from one of the back rooms, and Rhiannon grimaced. "If I'd known I was being assigned to the honeymooners, I would have tried harder to get out of this assignment. They've been in there all damn night. No action outside of that room, apparently." Rhiannon glanced up at Noah awkwardly, then pushed back her mussed hair in a gesture of feigned fatigue. "You ready to get out of here?" He nodded. "See you in twelve," Rhiannon said. Sending one last challenging look Kirsten's way, Noah followed his partner out. "He's just doing his job," Ash said carefully. "McKee gave him off-profile orders. He had no choice but to follow them. None of us likes losing operatives, even low-level abeyances." Kirsten sighed. She'd probably overreacted to seeing Noah. Ash was right. The safe house was one they'd used before, one she'd done 'baby-sitting' at when she was a lower level recruit. She was familiar with the layout, but looked around anyway to refamiliarize herself with it. When a door opened at the end of the hall, Kirsten immediately moved in view of it. Raven, on crutches, in a 363

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robe, emerged with Casey standing by to help her if she needed him. It was clear they'd come out expecting to see the two of them. The couple had been informed they'd be watching over them before Ash and Kirsten were told. "Good morning," Raven said a little shyly. "'Morning. How's the foot?" "It looks worse than it is. It didn't penetrate, just.... "Raven looked up at Casey. "What did that doctor say?" "It just skimmed the surface." Casey turned to Ash. "Thank you. For not killing her. I know your agency would have allowed that if it came down to a choice between Raven being taken or killing her." Kirsten remembered saying to Roan that she'd kill Raven along with him if she had to, and she flushed slightly. "It wouldn't have been our choice to kill either of you. I'm glad it didn't come to that." "Anybody hungry? We're well-stocked." "Starving," Raven admitted as Casey helped her to the kitchen table and into a chair. "Sit down," Ash encouraged Casey. "We'll handle this." "Is waiting on us hand and foot part of the protection service?" Casey asked as Kirsten poured them both coffee. Raven and Casey's fingers were interlocked. "It is this morning," she said with a smile. "So what happens now?" Casey asked. "Do you think the men who were after Raven will go after Reb now?" "That's classified information, and we can't talk to you about it." She knew she probably shouldn't, but Kirsten sat down anyway, wanting to take the sting out of the words 364

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she'd had to drive home to them. Yeah, they were probably a lot more approachable than Noah and Rhiannon, but this wasn't a social visit. "Look, you guys, I'm sorry about all this. I'm sorry if you feel like we were spying on you. We were just doing our jobs." "How much did you see?" Raven asked. Kirsten glanced at Ash, then admitted honestly, without qualms, "Everything." She wasn't surprised when the couple looked at each other and both blushed. "I guess I'm not the only voyeur in the neighborhood," Raven said softly, referring to the times she'd watched her neighbors in intimate situations. "It's not always an easy job, not always an enjoyable one, but we can't protect you if we don't know what's going on every minute," Ash told them. After a tense silence, Casey nodded, running his hand up the sleeve of Raven's robe tenderly. "I guess we should be grateful, but it's not easy to accept that someone has seen the worst sides of you. The ones you thought were private. I'm still not sure how you could get yourselves to look us in the eyes after you saw—" "The two of you really had us fooled," Raven interrupted because the tension in the room had grown almost unbearable. "I would have staked my life on the fact that the two of you were the real thing. I can honestly say I'd never seen two people more in love. God, that day I practically walked in on you making love..." Raven shook her head in disbelief. "I still can't believe you were acting the whole time. 365

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How do you fake something like that? Because your reactions ... both of yours ... seemed authentic as they come." Ash had had a lingering arousal he couldn't hide behind denim and she'd been unbearably, noticeably aroused, too. Kirsten couldn't begin to claim those physical reactions had been faked. She said nothing. "And your skills in advertising," Casey added with an awed whistle. "You must be incredible actors." "It's our job," Kirsten said simply, not daring to send her gaze Ash's way. "For what it's worth, I hope everything ... Well, I hope the two of you can find each other again. Find the love that brought you together before all this happened." Casey lifted Raven's hand to his mouth, kissed it, and when her fingers opened to reveal her palm, he kissed her there, too, closing his eyes in obvious ecstasy. "This isn't easy for us," Raven said softly, stroking Casey's cheek. "It's not easy, knowing we've had an audience for the past week. It's enough to make private people like us insane. It doesn't help to know you were protecting us. It doesn't make it any easier. But the two of you saved us. You helped us to have the courage to do things we wouldn't have done on our own. I think you were doing more than your jobs. Am I right?" Kirsten knew she had no choice when she saw the flare of hope in Raven's eyes. The Network was watching. They were being evaluated by Jocelyn, who never overlooked a thing. After all they'd been through together, it was natural for 366

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Raven and Casey to feel a connection and to want to verify that it meant something to the two of them as well. She reached out and took Raven's other hand, squeezed it, and then said, "We've been protecting you. That's all we've been doing. If something that happened along the way helped the two of you put your relationship back together, then we wish you the best. But you're our job. We can't get attached. When it's safe for you to go back out, we'll never see you again." Raven's confusion didn't make Kirsten feel any better, but she stood and asked coolly, "Who wants eggs?"

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Epilogue Jameson groaned as Roan slapped the inside of his elbow, swabbed and then stabbed the needle into the vein harder than he needed to. Glaring at him, Jameson watched him inject the morphine. Then Roan slid away on the rolling stool to close up the first aid kit. Jameson glared at him from the bed in the underground bunker. "How is that I wore body armor and I'm in worse shape that you are?" he complained. Roan ignored him. Shit, worst patient I've ever seen. His own wounds had been superficial. The high power, chopper wind and darkness had thrown Kirsten's usual deadon aim off. Lucky for him, he thought grimly. He snorted a laugh as he spun around to look at Jameson again. "What the hell did you expect him to do, old man? You goad him with all the details on the how you raped the woman he's had the hots for since he met her? Shit, you're lucky Barnett didn't blow your goddamn head off just for the sheer pleasure of it." Jameson's cold gray eyes filled with amazement as he said in disbelief, "You're still pissed about that little experiment in human endurance." Roan glanced away, sending the used syringe flying with the flick of his fingers. It stuck into the edge of the mattress beneath Jameson for a moment then clattered to the cement floor. Clenching his teeth together at Jameson's phrasing, Roan reined in his control. "We had an agreement. She wasn't supposed to get hurt." 368

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Lying back with his eyes closed as the morphine started to kick in, Jameson said dreamily, "What does it matter? You didn't have feelings for her anyway." Roan picked up his gun, caressed it, aimed it straight at the bastard's head. "No. But it shouldn't have happened. You changed the plan." And I've been payin' for it ever since. "They let you go." Jameson shifted the topic wearily. "That they did." So easy. Two neat holes. Right into your brain, old man. Roan lowered the gun, dropping it on the small table next to the first aid kit and his knife. "Why?" "Maybe they think I'll lead 'em to Porter." Jameson laughed, turning to him without lifting his head from the pillow. "Not likely." "You know why," Roan said tiredly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "They wanted you. They were willing to let everything else go to get you. Even the woman." "What about her?" "They don't need Raven Harris anymore. She doesn't have anything on us or them. She gave it all to Porter. But she's insulated now. We couldn't get her even if we wanted to." Jameson's voice sounded miles away, but Roan knew even on drugs his mind was clear enough to function. "How far ahead of us are they?" "By the time we can move in, two weeks or more."

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"Don't worry," Jameson said on a smile, not opening his eyes. "He was well 'conditioned'. He won't move, even under Network force. He won't give them the evidence." "You sure about that, old man?" Roan asked, twirling his blade between his fingers. "Why wouldn't I be? I conditioned him myself." He'd gone rogue, crippling the Network temporarily with Roan's help, but Jameson was just cocky enough to believe he'd done permanent damage. The organization would survive. They'd secure the breach and shore up any weaknesses in their own ranks. Nothing would get through. As usual, Jameson was underestimating them, but Roan had no intention of doing the same. Jameson, despite himself, was nearly asleep. His words slurred slightly. "Have you confirmed a location on Porter?" "No." Roan fingered his gun again, glancing up at Jameson coldly. "But I will soon." Once he did, then this thing would really begin. The moment he'd been waiting for continuously for seven long years would finally come.

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Look for Bounty on the Rebel's Heart, Book 3 of the Incognito Series, coming March 2007 only from Whiskey Creek Press: Rebel Porter is a man on the edge. His wife was killed to silence evidence he uncovered on a dangerously corrupt man of power. Now Reb is in hiding, and he's as afraid to lose someone else to the bounty on his head as to lose his heart to another woman. Network operative Natalie Francis goes undercover, posing as Reb's former lover—investigative journalist Adrienna Kelly—to find Reb and his evidence against Giles Jameson and the Network. When Natalie realizes she's fallen for the man she'd been protecting, she considers the impossible—escaping the Network. Also available now: No Ordinary Love, Book 1 of the Incognito Series 1-59374-695-4 (trade paperback); 1-59374-696-2 (electronic)

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR Karen Wiesner is an accomplished author with 28 books published in the past 8 years, which have been nominated/won 47 awards, and 19 more titles contracted for spanning many categories and formats. Named a "leading romance writer" in The Writer Magazine, Karen's many series' include the Gypsy Road Series, the Angelfire Trilogy, Dare to Love Series as well as the newest, Wounded Warriors Series. Her novels have been nominated for multiple Romantic Times' Reviewer's Choice Awards, the Frankfurt Award, FTHRW's The Lories' Best Published Contest, the Daphne du Maurier Award, many L-edit Slip Contest awards, and numerous EPPIE's. Karen also writes police procedural mysteries with awardwinning author Chris Spindler of Auenwald, Germany. The first book in their Falcon's Bend Series, Degrees of Separation, was originally available in a limited edition hardcover. Degrees of Separation received a 4 star review from Romantic Times and was a March 2004 Top Pick. The Falcon's Bend Case Files, Volume I anthology will be released in July 2006. Degrees of Separation will be re-issued in trade paperback and electronic formats in December 2006. Tears on Stone, Book 2 in the series, will be released in December 2006. Karen designed covers for all three books. Visit Karen and Chris' Falcon's Bend Community, where you'll find giveaways, details on the next Falcon's Bend releases, fun facts, games, and information about the series at: www.falconsbend.com. 372

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Currently, Karen has sold the first five books in a new romantic action/adventure series called the Incognito Series to Whiskey Creek Press www.whiskeycreekpress.com. The release schedule is as follows: No Ordinary Love (available now), Until Death Do Us Part (available now), Bounty on the Rebel's Heart (March 2007), Dead Drop (July 2007) and Under the Spell (October 2007). Books 1 and 2 were finalists in FTHRW's 2004 Lories' Best Proposal contest. In the L-Edit Slip contest, No Ordinary Love and Until Death Do Us Part both took a 3rd while Dead Drop took 2nd place. Karen designed all the Incognito Series covers. Karen's first writing reference title with Writer's Digest Books, First Draft in 30 Days (a Writer's Digest Book Club Main Selection in March 2005), is now available wherever writing reference titles are sold. Visit the First Draft bonus website, where you'll find articles and supplementals to the book, at www.firstdraftin30days.com. Karen also writes children's books and poetry. Karen is the founding member of Jewels of the Quill www.JewelsoftheQuill.com, a promotional group of women authors who write in a variety of genres. The group has monthly spotlights and giveaways at their website, and was featured in the September 2003 issue of Romantic Times BOOKclub. Jewels of the Quill has sold six anthologies to Whiskey Creek Press. Tales from the Treasure Trove, Volume I was released September 2005 (with Karen's traditional romance "The Amethyst Angel"). It received a 4 1/2 star review and was a September 2005 Top Pick from Romantic Times BOOKclub, is a Romantic Times 2005 Reviewers' Choice 373

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Award Nominee (Best Small Press Romance)and an EPPIE 2006 winner. Tales from the Treasure Trove, Volume II contains "The Amethyst Star" by Karen Wiesner, futuristic romance. Tales from the Treasure Trove, Volume III will be released in March 2007 ("Revenge in Amethyst", Adventures in Amethyst Series, Book 2, by Karen Wiesner, romantic thriller). Jewels of the Quill will also be doing annual holiday anthologies with Whiskey Creek Press. The first anthology, featuring six of the authors, is Christmas-themed and titled Small Gifts (available now and including Karen's inspirational romance "A Home for Christmas"). Treasures of the Heart is a Valentine's Day anthology (available now with "A Rose for Romeo", the first in Karen's Adventures in Amethyst Series). Treasures of the Heart was a finalist in The Romance Studio's Cupid and Psyche Awards for best contemporary romance. Shadows in the Heart is a Halloween anthology (coming September 2007 with "Papa", romantic horror, the first in Karen's Woodcutter's Grim Series—Classic Tales of Horror Retold). Karen has designed all the Jewels of the Quill covers. In addition, Karen's Jewels of the Quill anthology stories will be packaged in the following collections: Dame Amethyst Treasures, including "The Amethyst Angel," "A Home for Christmas," "The Amethyst Star" and a bonus, never-beforepublished romantic paranormal (coming July 2007 from Whiskey Creek Press). Adventures in Amethyst Series, including "A Rose for Romeo" (Book 1), "Revenge in Amethyst" (Book 2) plus a bonus story never before published "Christmas in Amethyst" (Book 3), coming September 2007 from WCP. Woodcutter's Grim Series, including "Papa" (Book 374

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1), "Blood of Amethyst" (Book 2) plus a bonus story never before published, "The Amethyst Tower" (Book 3), coming late 2008 from WCP. Find out more about Karen by visiting her website at www.karenwiesner.com. If you would like to receive Karen's free e-mail newsletter, Karen's Quill, send a blank message to: [email protected].

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