Authors: Nicola Claire
Or one more hidden hazard to avoid on my way out.
A thrill raced through me; inappropriate, given the circumstances, some might say. But I'd never shied away from a challenge. And the more dangerous, the more lethal that challenge, the better in my mind.
Sounds became sharp and distinct. Movements were picked up in my peripheral as astutely as if I was viewing them through a magnifying glass. Smells suddenly meant more - the hint of gun residue on a palm, the oil along the edge of a serrated knife. I tasted metal on my tongue; adrenaline flooding my system. My fingers tingled with the itch to touch; a gun, a weapon, flesh to flesh.
This was as close to being
alive
as I ever came.
It was with a smile that I entered the gym a few minutes later, having changed into tight fitting yoga pants and a cropped sports bra. Wolf whistles sounded out from the area set aside for the gawking crowd. A quick sweep of my eyes told me that Ben had not returned, and that Adam was the one waiting for me in the centre of the ring.
Loose limbed, barely there singlet tight across the pumped up muscles of his torso, running shorts and bare feet. It was the bare feet that seemed to attract my attention. Not the nagging worry that the change-up of opponents meant something. Or the fact that I'd soon have my hands on his skin, slicked with sweat, senses heightened.
I licked my lips and scanned the room for Jason Cain. He was in deep conversation with Eric. Neither looked happy.
The warning bells escalated to a clanging din inside my head. My heart beat too hard not for it to be noticeable. For ten years I've prided myself on not showing emotion. For ten years I've been a calculated machine; only displaying what I wanted to be seen.
I blinked slowly. Let a long, measured breath out in one continuous burst of air. Stretched my neck from side to side. Jumped up and down on the tip of my toes. And walked into the ring.
I was a hostile in enemy territory. And they knew. How they'd figured it out, I couldn't fathom. And if it changed my plans, I wasn't yet certain. I still had an assignment. I still had orders I should be following.
I met Adam's eyes; felt myself falling into them against all reason. All logic. I didn't want to happen what I knew had to happen. I didn't want to hurt this man.
My gaze flicked over all the people standing at the corner of the gym. Koki and Brook didn't yet know, or were immaculate actors. I didn't credit them with that delicate skill, so ignorance was the only explanation for the jokes and dirty comments still spewing from their lips.
Bets were being placed between them and the hangers-on. Dominic Anscombe shaking hands with Kelly Quayle as the diminutive woman smirked up at him from under long lashes. Her money was on me. His on Adam. Neither knew I was a wolf in the sheep's pen.
So, Eric, Jason and Adam were aware. That would mean so was Nick Anscombe and I'd guess Ben, as well. Very soon the entirety of ASI would be on alert. Shutting me out. Calling me out. Or simply throwing me out.
I had one chance and one chance only.
I looked toward Adam. He met my gaze with a challenge of his own.
This was going to hurt.
H
e feinted right
, then threw a quick jab toward the left. I let the hit land, taking the sharp sting of pain with gritted teeth and a burst of heated air.
The surprise that flickered over his handsome features was shuttered too quickly for most people to register if it had even been there. I spun around and landed my heel to his stomach, pushing him back a few feet on the mat.
The audience was silent. I couldn't spare them a glance. It's harder to throw a match than to win one. I needed my wits about me.
Adam and the rest of ASI had to think I wasn't a professional. At least, no more than a lieutenant.
"That was sneaky," Adam murmured, almost too low for the on-lookers to hear. "They teach you that at Philomel?"
"In a manner of speaking," I said just as quietly, just as intimately, then threw a one-two combination, followed by an upper cut.
A round of "Oohs" and "Ahhs" came from the audience. Adam just shook his head to clear it and smiled.
"You're quicker than I expected," he said, conversationally.
I was a lot of things he hadn't expected and we both knew it.
I winked at him, and laid myself open for a surprisingly deft side kick and round house swipe. My face hit the padded mat and his body landed on top of me.
"Give up yet, Lieutenant?" he whispered in my ear.
"Underestimated me yet, Stalker?"
He stilled above me, then jumped up in one fluid glide. Heat was replaced with empty air down my spine. Adam bounced on his toes until I was upright again and then effected a ready pose. The fingers of his right hand beckoned to me slowly.
I smiled. Shook my head, while flexing my aching jaw. Then limbered up, mirroring his stance in the middle of the mat.
The audience was forgotten. Our eyes locked for a suspended moment in time. And then we were nothing but flashes of movement, bursts of expelled air, grunts and groans as we grappled. Rolling over the mat, never quite finding purchase, a fleeting grasp, an "oomph" and then we were moving again.
Twice I pegged him to the ground. Three more times I let him pin me. He was good. Better than I had warranted. Whether that was due to Nick Anscombe's training or an inherent skill learned from the school of hard knocks, I wasn't sure. He was fast and strong, and knew some moves that weren't taught on your average self defence course.
He was also a little dirty, landing hits a gentleman would never think to use; a skill I greatly admired.
"Give up yet?" he asked, breathless, panting, sweaty, and if I wasn't mistaken, not just a little desperate.
A reflection of me. Which had me feeling all sorts of unusual and unwanted emotions when I realised.
We'd been at this for at least forty minutes. Ten minutes longer than my punishment for being late was meant to be. A second round of coffees had even been handed out in the crowd, and Nick had now joined Eric and Jason off to the side in head bent to head, murmured words of heated discussion. My last passing glance of the scene had let me know Koki and Brook were still on the out.
Maybe they feared their reaction. Maybe they'd be given the news in private because Nick wasn't sure yet how to proceed. I crossed dismissal off the list, which left only two. Shutting me out or calling me out.
Adam hadn't hinted at a thing throughout our fight. He'd given as good as he got. Not held his punches, at all. But he had gripped me seconds longer than necessary. He had whispered his taunts in my ear, not from any distance away. And he had moulded his body to mine when given the opportunity; letting me feel him; hard, unforgiving, in command.
I was a little in awe of Adam Savill by the time Jason called "time." And I was sure he was a little in awe of me. Under normal circumstances - at least, what passes for normal circumstances for me - I would have had no issues using Adam as back up. We might have been pitted against each other in this fight, but I'd recognised a fellow dirty brawler. His movements had mirrored mine on more than one occasion. Often he'd utilised combinations I would have used to throw
my
attacker off. He’d stolen my moves. He’d surprised me again and again. And not once did I feel I wasn't working to hold my own. In other words, we'd matched.
We'd fit.
Like a glove.
A round of applause brought us both out of the moment. I hadn't realised we'd been standing, mid-grapple, faces inches apart, chests heaving with the exertion and lack of air. Cheeks flushed for more than just one reason.
"Well done," Nick advised. "Some nice moves there. I'm glad the Navy hasn't eased up on maintaining fitness levels in their officers."
I was the one to step away, instantly feeling chilled once we'd parted. It could have been the ice blue in Nick's eyes. Eyes that hid their mistrust well, but still left me feeling out of sorts.
But I was more inclined to think it was the absence of Adam. His warmth. His presence. Him.
He'd turned away when Nick had stepped onto the mat and was wiping a towel over the back of his neck, shoulders taut, back straight, muscles flexing in agitation.
He'd not liked losing time there as well.
"A fair pass, I'd say," Nick added. "You agree, Jase?" he looked back toward Cain, who was watching the scene with arms crossed over buffed chest, scowl in place. It meant nothing, from what I'd learnt so far. Jason Cain often scowled.
"A pass," he agreed, with a curt nod of his head.
"Some of those moves couldn't have been Navy issue," Nick pressed, his attention back on me, as I reached for a bottle of water.
I cracked the cap and tipped the bottle to my lips before I answered. I needed time to think.
He hadn't cleared the room, so the hangers-on were all still present. Granted, laughing and talking, paying up on bets - Adam was declared the winner due to the number of drops - a few watching with interest, but most too caught up in the celebration to notice what was about to go down in the middle of the mat.
I shook my head, eyes still warily locked on Nick's. "They're not," I said, waiting to see if I'd have to elaborate.
"I didn't think so," he replied steadily, and then turned away to look toward Adam. "Congrats, Savill. You did us proud."
"Thanks, boss," Adam murmured, drinking from his own water bottle now.
"Shower both of you," Nick advised. "And then you've got policies with Amber in Interview Room One." The last was said directly to me.
I nodded and watched as he rounded up the rest of the people in the room and herded them out. Within minutes I was alone with Adam, wondering what game ASI was playing. Nick clearly thought Adam could handle me. Because of the match? Or because Adam's reactions to me so far had all been pretend?
And what of Amber as choice for policies and procedures? The tech geek was not military trained.
Nick Anscombe was proving a talented adversary, indeed.
"Good fight," Adam said, breaking into my thoughts.
"You too."
He watched me, as I slung a towel around my shoulders and prepared to leave. When nothing was said, I took a step toward the bathrooms.
"Where did you learn those moves?"
"The Navy," I replied carefully.
He let a huff of air out. Incredulously, I'd guess.
"Like Nick said, that was not standard defence force practice."
"No. It wasn't," I agreed with a shoulder shrug.
"But you insist you learnt them in the Navy."
I nodded my head and waited. Our eyes were locked on each other, as if we could read our foe through the colour of their irises alone.
I could tell he was wired; pumped up with adrenaline and ready to fight again if need be. He didn't trust me. I wasn't surprised. Only resigned to the mountain I had to climb to see this assignment through.
I wondered, again, if completing this mission was imperative. How could it still be if the Department was testing me? What was it that the Director wanted with these people? Who had seemed to me to just be doing their job.
Their dossiers hadn't divulged anything that made my hackles rise. The set-up here no more than expected and a necessity if they took themselves seriously. And their behaviour to date had only solidified how good at what they did they all were: They'd picked me up within twenty-four hours. Faster than I'd ever had a cover blown before.
But was my cover blown? Or was it just dented out of shape? Could it be repaired?
"So, still going with the Navy?" Adam asked, breaking into my musings.
I was more distracted on this case than I had ever been. Too many variables. Too many mountains. Too many heads to the snake.
Where was Caleb right now?
The Director?
Mal?
I ran a hand through my hair, pulling my hair tie out and letting the wet strands fall down around my shoulders. Adam watched my every move, but didn't show any emotion on his face. Here was the soldier, following orders, stealing his heart away.
"I was one of three females in my basic training group," I said. "By the time I graduated, I was the only female left. Certain moves were needed to stay committed."
It wasn't a complete lie, and maybe that was why it worked. Adam nodded his head and walked out of the room towards the men's showers.
Without a word.
I let a slow breath of air out and made my way to the ladies side of the bathrooms. Checking the room was empty and that Abi had been right when she'd said there were no cameras in the showers, I pulled my cellphone out of my change bag and stepped into a stall. Turning the shower on, I let the steam build up and only then dialled Ava.
"He's definitely here," she said in way of greeting. "And he knows I am as well."
Shit.
"How did that happen, Ava?"
"The rental car." She didn't say any more, she didn't need to. Her tone of voice said it all. She was fuming. At herself. At Caleb. And probably at me. "What the fuck is going on, Charlie?"
"My target has made me."
"Bloody hell!"
"They haven't shown their hand."
"OK. Something to work with. Do you suspect them yet?"
I shook my head and started pacing in the small space of the stall.
"They're good," I said.
"They'd better be, making you in under twenty-four hours."
I let out a slow breath of air.
"I'm uncertain on where they stand in the scheme of things," I admitted.
Silence.
Then, "Your next move?"
"Flush Caleb out."
"These could still be two unrelated incidences," Ava pointed out. "Flushing Caleb might have little effect on your assignment."
"Not flushing him could mean my death."
I waited for her reprisal. I didn't have to wait long.
"I can't stay."
I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the slick tile of the stall.
"Ava," I whispered into the phone.
"Listen to me, Charlie. You've got this, whatever the fuck it is. But if Caleb knows I'm here, and he
is
working against you at the Director's behest, then I'm going to be tarred with the same brush. No thank you. I like you, but we're not that close in the end."
Damn it. She was right. I had no hold on her. The fact that she had come at all meant she valued me as a colleague, but anything else was wishful thinking.
I'd be saying and doing the exact same thing in her position, as well.
"OK," I said, pulling myself up straight. "What have you uncovered so far?"
"You're set up here as a suitable fall-back and it hasn't been compromised. I made sure of that after I realised Caleb was onto me. As far as what he wants, I can't say. There's been no more contact through your Department email, and nothing on the mock social media profiles you set up. But there has been interest. I traced what I could and I'm certain it didn't originate at the Department."
"That doesn't mean any interest isn't theirs," I argued.
"True. But not overtly."
"Caleb?" More his style.
"It's a possibility. But my being here is holding him back."
"That's not why you're leaving, Ava."
"No."
Silence as we both digested that.
"When will you go?" I finally asked.
"I already am," she replied and the line went dead.
I stared at the water running down the drain and slowly lowered the cellphone. She'd probably answered on the jet.
Calling Ava here had been a long shot, but having her here, despite the potential for another enemy in my bed, had been a safety blanket of sorts. Caleb wasn't an unknown. He was an expert at what he did. He scared me more than Nick Anscombe and his ASI men.
He scared me more than the Director if I was honest. And the Director was not to be taken lightly, at all.
I powered down the phone and placed it in my bag, then stripped and slid under the shower. My body ached; Adam had landed a few very decent punches. My head hurt; too many thoughts dancing around inside my brain. My heart wasn't in it, any more.
When did this become exhausting?
When my handler let it slip I was persona non grata, that's when.
The clock was ticking, I knew that much. My time here at ASI was coming to an end. I needed to know what had singled this firm out as the location for my demise in the Director's eyes. I needed to get that from Adam tonight.
Then I'd deal with Caleb Hart. Followed swiftly by Mal, the Director and the Department.
What the hell was the link here?
The water scolded down my back and hissed off the tiles on the floor. I soaped up, scrubbing hard against skin, as if that could rid me of the unwanted feeling of failure. I'd never consciously failed before. Not that any failure here was due to my purposeful actions. Yet. But I couldn't help thinking I was doing something wrong, anyway.
Why me? Why ASI? Why now?
None of it made sense, but I was determined to figure it out. Not for the Department. But for
me
.
I was invested now. Personally. Whether ASI was just a venue for my downfall or not. I needed to know. Why here? Why these people?
Why?
The question was still swirling around inside my head when I walked into Interview Room One and found Amber waiting patiently; a folder open before her, two mugs of coffee steaming to the side.