Watching From The Shadows: Trident Security Book 5 (26 page)

“And she’ll be guarded the entire time,” Devon vowed following him out the door of Ian’s office.

“I know. Thanks.” Taking the back door from the offices, down a short hallway, he pushed through the door leading to the maintenance garage. The area took up the back half of the warehouse building and had more than enough room to work on several vehicles at once or have the bird towed in if the rotor blades were folded. Loud music blared from a nearby radio as he scanned the garage looking for their new pilot/mechanic. A few of the company’s SUVs were scattered around, some with their hoods up, as well as Ian’s Audi S5 Coupe. Not seeing anyone, he strode over to the radio to turn it down.

“Change that station, and we’re going to have a problem.”

Smiling, he only lowered the volume, then turned around to see Tempest walking toward him, with an almost imperceptible limp, from behind one of the SUVs. The brunette was about five-seven with a slender build and dressed in a new maintenance jumpsuit and high-top sneakers. “Just bringing it down to a reasonable decibel. But, seriously, the Bee Gees? Are you kidding me?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “My mom loved music from the sixties and seventies. She always had it on at home or in the car, which was really embarrassing when it was her turn to carpool. But somewhere along the line, it rubbed off on me.”

Marco laughed. “You’re looking good, Babs. How’s the leg?”

“Still missing.” She stopped and pulled her left pant leg up a few inches to reveal the prosthesis she now wore after losing the limb below the knee eighteen months earlier. Someone had painted it with the American flag for her. “But I’m digging the new one. Just can’t wear high heels anymore.” Stepping up to him, she gave him a hug hello, which he returned. “I hear congratulations are in order. Marco ‘I’m-never-getting-married-or-having-kids’ DeAngelis is a dad. Go figure.”

“Yeah, shocker. But I’m digging it now,” he teased, throwing the word back at her. “I’ll bring Harper and Mara by later so you can meet them.” He paused. “Listen. I heard about your father. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the services—I was OCONUS.”

A heavy sadness fell across her face. “Yeah, Ian told me half the team was in South America somewhere…and…well, committing suicide doesn’t exactly deserve a big send-off.”

She glanced away, clearly wanting to change the still raw subject which had delayed her starting date with Trident, so he dropped it and gestured toward the nearby equipment bench. “I ordered the basic shit for you, but figured you’d want to order your own preferences on some stuff.”

“You got most of it. I’m still doing an inventory, though. Egghead said to tell him what’s missing, so I’m making a list. The bird is awesome, by the way. I couldn’t believe it when Ian said he’d gotten his bloody rich hands on an MH-X Silent Hawk. I love flying stealth. If you get a chance later, want to go up for a spin?”

He feigned horror. “With you? Nope. No way.
Uh-uh
. Your version of going ‘for a spin’ usually results in someone puking, even someone with experience. Call me when you want to go for a nice, steady flight.”

“Chicken.” Laughing, she stepped over to turn the volume of the radio back up until “Play That Funky Music” was blaring.

Shaking his head in amusement, he left her to finish her inventory and headed up to the apartment they were all still using. After Karen’s release from the hospital with a stable angina diagnosis and new medication, she’d taken the spare bedroom, giving Marco and Harper’s relationship her blessing. With Kristen and Angie’s help, they’d gotten more furniture for the room, including a dresser, armoire, and nightstands, as well as a flat screen TV.

A semi-comfortable routine had developed for them. While one of the Trident women watched Mara, Marco would take Harper to her office for a meeting with her staff about current cases or to court. Foster and McCabe were usually the ones tailing them. After returning to the compound, Harper did what she could on her laptop, and Marco joined Brody and Boomer checking out a bunch of dead-end leads.

They’d gotten Harper cleared for play at the club and Marco had paid her full membership fee, which she’d fought him on, before finally giving up when he wouldn’t budge. They were a couple now—D/s as well as boyfriend/girlfriend, even though he thought those latter terms were so high-school-ish. While he fully intended to put a ring on her finger soon, along with a permanent collar on her neck, he wanted the attempts on her life to be far behind them first, with no chance of recurrence. Only then would they be at peace and ready to start the next phase of their lives.

Scanning his hand, he pushed open the door and found Mara in her ‘command center’ seat, where she could swivel around three-hundred-sixty degrees to play with a variety of attached toys. It was on the floor of the living room floor near Harper, who was sitting on the couch going through her case files and making notes. Taking off her reading glasses, which she only seemed to use while reading court briefs, she smiled at him. “Hi. Done with your workout already?”

The domesticity of the scene was something he’d begun to crave each day. Coming home to his woman and child was a blessing he now knew he couldn’t do without. He hoped one day soon, it would be without the worry that someone wanted to take it all away from him. “Yeah, it got cut short for a meeting with Ian and Devil Dog. Your mom’s not back from cardiac therapy yet?”

She shook her head, then looked at the clock on the cable box. “Nope. Lindsey and Darius should be back with her in about twenty minutes or so. Is everything all right?”

Stepping around the giggling baby, he sat in the recliner closest to the couch. After letting out a big sigh, he filled her in. “The police have run out of leads and have to turn their attention to other cases. So does Trident. We’ll be staying here for now until I’m more comfortable with going back home, but I’ve got to start training the new team tomorrow. We can’t keep putting it off. Half of my team has to head out of the country this coming Monday, but I’ll be staying home. And you’re getting your wish. Devon needs your schedule for the rest of this week and all of next week, so he can set up the contract agents who will be guarding you at the office and in court. They’ll be driving you, though. I want someone experienced in vehicle evasion if someone comes after you again.”

“Okay. I can live with that. I’ll draw up the schedule when Mara goes down for her nap in a little bit.” She paused. There was clearly something else on her mind and his gut clenched as she bit her lip.

“What is it, Butterfly? Talk to me.”

“What…what happens when we leave here? Are Mara and I going back to our house, while you go back to yours?”

Moving from the recliner to the spot next to her on the couch, he took her hand in his and brought it to his mouth for a kiss. “What do you want to happen?”

“Honestly, I want what we have here. I don’t want to go back to living in separate houses. I-I really don’t want to go back to my house. I won’t feel safe there anymore.” Over the past several nights she’d woken in a cold sweat with flashes of the night she’d been attacked. Unfortunately, she hadn’t been able to give them any information on the attacker. From what she remembered, she’d heard a noise as she entered the foyer and turned. He’d been wearing a ski mask and she only had a quick glance at him before he swung the bookend at her. It’d struck her as she spun around to run. She didn’t remember him saying anything at all.

“I’ll tell you what. This weekend, we’ll put both houses up on the market and start looking for one for our new family…and any other kids who might be joining us down the road.”

Her eyes widened. “Really? Are you serious?”

Chuckling, he kissed the back of her hand again, then turned it over and kissed the palm. “Yeah, I’m serious. I told you, I want us to be a family, and someday soon, we’re going to make it official. And I can’t think of a better way to start than with a new house without any haunts. Nina’s ghost is in my house, even though most of her stuff is gone. I still associate that room as the one where she died, no matter what I do to change it. I want a place that only has room for happy memories of her. Somewhere she can watch over her nieces and nephews in peace. And yes, I want more kids. I want you. I want it all.”

“I think that’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever said to me. I love you.”

He leaned in and kissed her lips. “I love you, too, Butterfly.”

“Da-da.” Mara’s voice had them both twisting to stare at her. “Da-da.”

Marco was shocked. Although the now six-month-old baby had been saying ‘ma-ma’ for almost a week, this was the first he’d heard ‘da-da’. “Holy shhh…ugar. She said ‘da-da’! Is that the first time she said it?”

“I think so,” Harper giggled. “But remember what I told you the other day. She probably doesn’t associate it with you yet. Same as ma-ma.” It’d been hysterical a few days ago when their daughter had first called Harper ‘ma-ma’, to her delight, and then proceeded to call everyone else ‘ma-ma’, including Tiny and Beau.

Kneeling on the floor, he pulled the play seat closer to him. “Say it again, Mara. Say da-da.”

“Da-da,” she shouted before blowing raspberry bubbles at him and clapping her little hands.

“That’s my girl. I love you, too, sweet cheeks.”

“Da-da-da-da-da-da.”

He smiled, knowing he wouldn’t give this up for the world.

C
HAPTER 21

“Fuck you, assholes! Come and get me, you pansy-assed pieces of shit! I fucking dare you!

Marco chuckled as Boomer disappeared behind the black curtain of the third-floor window of the simulation training building to go find a place to hunker down and wait for the Omega team to sniff him out. While the entire six-man team hadn’t all reported for duty yet, for a couple of reasons, the four men who had—Foster, McCabe, Knight, and Mancini—were training with Abbott as an additional member for now.

Yesterday morning, the first day back on training, he’d run them through the obstacle course, various calisthenics drills, and sparring in the gym. Today had started out with gun qualifications at the indoor range and the outdoor shooting gallery, which was set up like the Main Street of a town. Targets would randomly pop out of buildings’ doors, windows, and alleys as a team member walked down the ‘street’.

After lunch, Marco had set them up to begin working as a team—one unit—which would eventually have them functioning as a well-oiled machine. Every one of them had worked in teams before, either in the military or law enforcement, but it would take a while for them to learn each new teammate’s style, line of thinking, strengths, and weaknesses.

Dressed in black combat pants and T-shirts, and loaded to the gills with gear and non-lethal weapons, they were ready to go in and find their tango. Boomer would be donning protective eye and ear wear, so the team would be able to deploy a flash-bang grenade if warranted. Their guns were replaced with a new line of simulated ones, which felt, sounded, and reacted the same way a real one would, including a kick when fired. The differences being they were bright red, for safety reasons, and used lasers to shoot their targets. The ‘tango’ and ‘hostage’ were wearing light-weight jumpsuits and ski masks, which would register any shots that hit their mark. Boomer would feel a mild vibration anywhere he was ‘shot’.

The interior of the building had been completely coated with a special, black paint. If the laser shots hit the walls, ceiling, or floor, a colored dot would show up when a purple fluorescent light was scanned over them. Marco would have to do that quickly after the scene was shut down, as the marks would fade after fifteen to twenty minutes until they were completely gone. But he should only need to scan one room this time. Each team members’ shot would register a different color, so they knew whose went where.

After giving Boomer a few seconds to hide, Marco shouted, “All right, team! Your tango has a hostage—in this case, a blow-up doll known as Naughty Nurse Betty, with a lousy makeup job and perky tits. And Baby Boomer refuses to be taken down. Go rescue the hostage, without deflating her, and get your tango, dead or alive. Move out!”

As three team members rushed to the front entrance, two went around to the rear door. Marco followed the trio from a distance. He forced himself to concentrate on the ‘rescue’ and not on Harper being in her office, out from the protection of the compound. Yeah, she had two bodyguards from Blackhawk Security on her, but he was still uneasy about it. He had to get over it, though, if they were going to have some sort of normalcy again in their lives. A little while ago, he’d run into Kristen, who’d been heading over to Harper’s law practice. They were having a video conference with the attorney in New Jersey they were using for her asshole ex-husband’s lawsuit. The local lawyer had apparently found some interesting evidence to use to fight the demand for half of Kristen’s book royalties.

Taking a few steps into the building, he shut the door behind him, plunging them all into complete darkness so their night-vision goggles could be utilized. With headsets on, the team spoke quietly to each other as they cleared the rooms one-by-one. Marco was like the rest of them at the moment, having no clue which room Boomer had chosen. Many of the interior walls could be moved to create different setups, so the teams wouldn’t get complacent with their training.

On the second floor, Foster was the lead heading into a room, when shouts and gunfire rang out. Within thirty seconds, the chaos died down, along with the ‘tango’, who’d been hit in the head and chest by the lasers. The ‘hostage’ had survived.

“Good job,” Marco praised. “But next time, Boomer’s going to be shooting back at you with paintball pellets, and then we’ll see how good you are.” He unclipped the fluorescent light wand from his utility belt and waved it over the walls and floor. There were only two dots in different colors on one wall, but that was to be expected when firing on a moving subject. Contrary to what Hollywood wanted people to believe, it was actually not that easy to do under pressure, despite a team being highly trained.