Authors: Tes Hilaire
Damn
. Not that he’d expected less. But he didn’t want this mess. He was still convinced she could be in danger, but now the danger was coming from another direction as well—Whitesman, the government, and subsequently from him.
“Hmm.” She released Garret’s hand.
“Your place or ours?” Teigan asked.
She chuckled in disbelief. “You think I’d go anywhere with a pair of liars?”
“It’s your choice.” Protecting her and Garret came first. Then answers. Only
then
would he worry about the mess that had been plopped down in front of him. Still, he’d been taught to work with the hand he’d been dealt. “We can talk now. Or I can report back to my superiors. I’ve learned enough tonight to drag you in for formal questioning, don’t you think?”
She paled. The baton in her hand clicked a couple times as she shifted her grip. Garret shuffled uneasily, glancing at her with a crease in his normally wrinkle-free brow. She’s trembling, Teigan realized.
Definitely a lying dickhead
. But if it got her to do what he wanted, he’d play this bluff to the end.
“It’s up to you,” he told her, his tone heartless. “But given the fact that you seem to go out of your way to hide your little secret, I’m assuming you’d rather not make this official.”
“Is that really an option anymore?” she asked pointedly. “What are you? Military, Agency, FBI, Global Police?”
He didn’t answer. Technically the Agency didn’t exist. Not since the Global Police had come into being. All the departments of the CIA had been divvied up and folded into other departments or done away with completely. The Agency was a pet name for a very top-secret remnants of the original government organization—the ones that had supposedly been eliminated. On the government’s day books he was merely an information consultant. On the other books, he was a highly placed field agent with level III security clearance.
“I’m betting Agency.”
“Someone’s coming around the building,” Garret warned.
Teigan glanced over his shoulder. The waitress and a well-dressed man with a harried expression on his face—probably the manager—rounded the corner. The waitress hurried slightly ahead of the suit, her arm pointing in their direction, her clipped words drifting away from them on a slight breeze. Despite the large amount of credits he’d passed her way, he doubted she was saying anything nice about him, and he sincerely doubted they were coming to
his
rescue.
“Shit.” Garret shook his head, glanced longingly at the deep shadows he’d been hiding in.
Yeah, it looked bad. Two men, one unknown, were harrying a blind woman.
Beautiful
.
“What’s it going to be, Aria? We go to a place of your choosing now, or I pull the strings for a visit tonight in holding?”
Indecision warred across her face. The ring of heels and loafers drew closer.
Shit. Don’t make me do this. I don’t want to be your enemy.
“Last chance, Aria.”
Chapter Six
The security lights of the parking lot beamed into his eyes, but Teigan didn’t blink. He waited for some sign of surrender, something, anything, from her.
Don’t call my bluff, Aria, neither of us will win if you do
.
She curled her lip back, but then held out her hand. Too anxious to be relieved, Teigan took it, directing her the last few feet to the car. Their roles silently agreed upon, Garret stepped ahead and opened the back door, playing chauffer—too bad the car wasn’t quite up for it. The eight year old black government owned Airlan hadn’t been cutting edge in its own day. Hopefully the shadows here would hide that fact.
“Where to, sir?” Garret asked, pitching his voice just high enough for their uninvited guests who were still a dozen yards or so away to hear.
Teigan grimaced. If he had any luck, the busybody waitress wouldn’t note that Garret both looked and sounded like him, too. Of course, with the way the day had been going, he was willing to bet luck was not on his side.
“We’ll drop the lady at her place. She’s not feeling all that well.” Teigan gave Aria an adoring look. “But first the florists, I’m sure they’ll have something to make her feel better.”
Garret gave a little incline of his head. “Very good, sir.”
Teigan helped Aria into the back seat, climbing in beside her as Garret took the driver’s seat. A quick glance through the window showed the restaurant manager already heading back to the building, if not pleased, at least satisfied with what he saw. The waitress glared at them, but slowly followed her boss inside, her head turned to watch them the whole way.
You got that right, lady. I’m a real ass if I think flowers are going to buy my way out of this one.
Garret punched the car into a lift, ascending to the sky-way. “Where to?”
Aria rattled off a series of directions. Garret’s brow arched, meeting Teigan’s gaze in the mirror. She was not having them go to her family mansion.
“It’s my retreat,” Aria told them, somehow noting the silent communication between them.
Teigan nodded, indicating Garret should follow her directions. Aria turned her body away from Teigan and sat stiffly in the seat, her eyes resolutely closed as she faced the dark window while they glided along with traffic on the sky-way.
It took them over a half hour to get there. Her retreat was just that; a good fifteen minutes from any major sky-ways, highways or byways, her directions led them to an old 21
st
century paved road. Although indicated as a passable road on the navigation system, the country lane hadn’t seen new blacktop in at least a decade and was bumpy and so riddled with potholes that it should have been torn up and completely replaced. After the tenth or eleventh jarring hole, Garret growled and whipped the car up into hover mode where their travel leveled out.
“How much farther?” Teigan asked.
“It’s twenty miles on this road,” she replied calmly. “The turnoff for my place is marked with an old fashion reflector…at least there should be one.”
“Great. Hope we don’t get lost,” Teigan said, thinking about the power they were sucking by staying in hover mode.
She gave him a feral smile. “Hope you have enough power to get you back. No charging station at the cottage.”
Garret glanced at the gages and grunted. “We’ll make it back to the city.”
“How do
you
get out here?” Teigan asked Aria.
“Personal helicopter.” She turned her back on him again, ending the conversation.
A half hour later, the flash of a reflector on a century plus old oak gleamed in the headlights. Garret dropped the car out of hover and slowed to turn onto the old dirt drive.
Someone had kept the drive clear, even if the low branches weren’t meant to encourage visitors. Probably for the sake of delivery or emergency vehicles—Teigan doubted many people would willingly drive out this far into the country.
“There are recent tracks,” Garret said, contradicting Teigan’s conclusion.
“A local caretaker brings in supplies.”
Another grunt from Garret.
Teigan had been expecting a bit rustic, one of those old type, window-spanning, cedar cabins that had been restored and updated. Instead, there was a small cape cod; early-21
st
century reproduction if he had to judge. The small family houses had made a comeback after the bottom had fallen out of the world economy early in the century. And though the house had been maintained—roof, siding, foundation replaced as necessary—he didn’t see any indication that it had been updated to meet the desires of the average 22
nd
century citizen. No lights came on with their approach, the garage door didn’t swing up and open and the doors and windows looked like the good old fashion aluminum and double pane style that was classic for that century.
They rolled to a stop. Teigan reached for the slim stunner tucked into the small of his back, his eyes delving into the shadows surrounding the exterior of the house. Before either he or Garret could get out, she stopped them.
“Wait. I’ll get out first. Make sure everything is okay.”
“Like hell,” he muttered. He didn’t like it out here: too dark, too many hiding places, and no security system.
“Listen, Garret… I mean…” she frowned, her forehead puckering into a scowl. “Well, whoever the hell you are.”
“Teigan.”
“Fine. Teigan,” she huffed in a way that belied her continuing exasperation with him.
He wanted to smile. It was the first time his name had rolled off her lips and despite the beleaguered tone he liked it.
“If I’m right, Teigan,” she stressed his name. His mouth stretched further. “Then your brother here is the next target. And I wouldn’t put it past him to take an opportunity like this.”
Oh yeah, killers on the loose. He should probably concentrate on that and not the fact she’d said his name twice now.
“Who’s ‘him?’” he asked.
She gave a barely imperceptible shake of the head. “You lied to me. I don’t know if I can trust you.”
Fair enough.
“But we should trust you?”
“I didn’t get myself involved with either of you,” her head shifted slightly to the front of the car then back in his direction, “risking my own identity, to put Garret in danger, but to keep him out of it. I don’t know if the house is secure, but I’ll be able to tell quickly enough.”
“And leave us here like sitting ducks and in a prime location if this is a set up,” Garret said, cocking his gun—Smith & Wesson 2078 M&P. Teigan knew Garret also had a civilian Colt S13 stunner which he used for his security job, a newly issued military Heringer Z510 phaser,
and
a 1934, .357 Magnum revolver—unregistered—that had most likely spent a fair number of its days on the black market. Teigan had found the vintage revolver in a secret compartment in the master bedroom storage unit. He’d looked over his shoulder at Garret, who’d been watching him search the room. Garret had shrugged, offering no explanation or remorse. Teigan had put it back.
Aria’s eyes narrowed in Garret’s general direction. “You’re more of an ass than he is, aren’t you?”
Garret’s silence was his only reply.
“Fine,” she folded her arms under her breasts, inadvertently making her cleavage that much more attractive. “Do what you want. It’s your skin. Just don’t shoot Frodo.”
“Who’s Frodo?” Teigan asked, stepping out of the car and pulling his own government issue SP-57 stunner as he looked around. As they emerged, a low whining sound emitted from behind the house door. It was followed by a series of sharp barks. “Frodo?”
“That would be him.” She raised her hand for silence, her nostrils flaring, head cocked.
Garret scanned the woods around them. His stance deceptively easy, though a trained observer would realize he was ready to spring at the slightest sense of misgiving.
“Unless he’s downwind, we’re clear,” she proclaimed.
Garret grunted an affirmative, but still shifted around behind them, drifting back down the drive and delving into the woods. Teigan grabbed Aria’s arm, keeping her close to him, gun at the ready. She stiffened as if she might try to pull away, then sighed, folding her arms. Eventually Garret slid back out of the forest, this time on the far side of them. A quick nod and they all moved to the door.
Aria pulled an old fashion key from her purse and stuck it in the lock.
Teigan laid his hand over hers, preventing her from turning the knob. “Let me.”
She huffed, but relented without a fight. Garret sidled up beside him, taking one side of the door and Teigan the other. The fact that the dog was inside, alive and eager rather than agitated, spoke highly of the safety of the house, but he wasn’t going to take any chances.
“Frodo doesn’t stay here all week does he?” He twisted the key until the deadbolt clicked.
“No. He goes where I go.”
“But he doesn’t come out with you?”
“Frodo gets airsick.”
The moment the door was cracked, a black bundle of fur leapt out, circling her twice before sitting down and wagging its stunted tail expectantly. The mutt appeared to be a cross between a lab and a sheepdog. And although he looked big enough to be a full grown adult, his exuberance bespoke of a young puppy. And like a puppy, he was just as obviously anxious to win Aria’s approval.
“Good, Frodo.” She patted his head after he’d sniffed the strangers and plopped down by her feet. “Do your business.”
The dog bounded off and circled the side of the house. Silence reigned for a moment or two, before all of a sudden, a sharp series of barks and a blur of fur bounded off into the side wood.
Aria sighed and indicated they should go in. “He’ll be back. After he vanquishes the foes.”
“Foes?” he asked as he handed back her keys.
“Birds, bunnies, and deer. Oh my!”
Teigan suppressed the chuckle. His mother had loved the classic Wizard of Oz film so the reference wasn’t lost on him. Garret’s brow was furrowed in confusion though.