Next Exit, No Outlet Read online

  “Actually, it was you,” she said calmly. “Or rather, your journal.”

  Angela gaped.

  “My journal?” she repeated. “How the hell did you see that? God, that must have been from...”

  “June 15, 2005.”

  Angela’s face darkened. “You’d better explain how you know that.”

  “It was sent to me by an anonymous source.”

  “Look, Lina, I don’t know how you saw that, but...” Angela began, but Stephanie cut her off.

  “When?” she asked sharply.

  “This morning.”

  Angela looked from one to the other.

  “Wait,” she said slowly. “It really was sent to you?”

  “Yes.”

  “By whom?!”

  “I told you, it was an anonymous source.”

  “It was him, wasn’t it?” Stephanie asked. “You said he likes to get inside people’s heads. He sent it to you.”

  Alina didn’t answer but resumed pacing.

  “Who’s him? What are you talking about?” Angela demanded. “This is my journal we’re talking about! I’d like to know who has it!”

  “The person who hacked it,” Alina said shortly. “It’s the same person who’s trying to kill Stephanie...and me.”

  Angela’s mouth dropped open. “The cyber-geek from the basement in Russia?”

  Alina’s lips quivered despite herself. “You’re the only one who ever thought it was some guy in a basement in Russia.”

  “Lina, I...I don’t know what to say,” Stephanie said miserably. “I should have told you years ago, but Dave didn’t want you to know at first, and then when he died...”

  “You must be the girl!” Michael exclaimed suddenly. “When we first met, Dave mentioned a girl back home. Then I never heard about her again. When I asked about it halfway through the Iraq tour, he said it was over.”

  “It was,” Stephanie said earnestly. “It was a stupid fling, and when he went to Iraq, it was over. He just didn’t want Alina to know because he didn’t think she’d understand.”

  Alina’s lips tightened briefly and something akin to anger flashed through her before it was replaced with the hollow feeling of loss that always accompanied thoughts of Dave.

  Damon walked out of the kitchen and handed her a glass of wine as she passed before he continued to the sofa to pass a second one to Angela. Without a word, he turned to go back into the kitchen to get a third glass for Stephanie. Alina sipped the wine gratefully.

  “And you never told her?” Blake asked incredulously. “Since 2005?”

  Stephanie shook her head.

  “There never seemed to be a good time, and then she joined the Navy and was gone for ten years.” Stephanie looked up as Damon walked into the living room and handed her the wine. “Thanks.”

  He nodded and turned to go back to the kitchen.

  “Hey Damon, can you...” Blake began, holding up his empty beer bottle.

  “Already on it,” Damon replied without turning his head.

  Blake grinned and set the bottle back on the coffee table.

  “That’s messed up, Steph,” Blake said, shaking his head. “He was her brother.”

  “Yes, and he was dead,” Stephanie retorted hotly. “It was a moot point.”

  “Did John know?” Alina asked, pausing near Blake.

  Stephanie looked guilty and that was all the answer she needed. Her eyes narrowed and she resumed pacing without a word.

  “Lina, I think you’re looking at this all wrong,” Angela said, twisting on the couch to look at her as she passed behind them. “It was years ago, and they were just kids. We all were!”

  Alina looked at her, her expression neutral.

  “The only way I’m looking at it is as the weapon it was meant to be,” she said flatly. “That journal entry was supposed to get into my head and make me question Stephanie, you, and everything I thought I knew about my family and my closest friends. What he didn’t realize is that he picked an area that I laid to rest long ago. I won’t question something that doesn’t matter to me anymore.”

  Angela’s eyes widened.

  “Now we don’t matter anymore?!” she exclaimed. “Lina, that’s some coldness, even from you!”

  Alina rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I meant,” she muttered.

  Damon walked past her and his blue eyes met hers solemnly. He passed Blake a beer over the back of the sofa, then walked around to hand one to Michael.

  “Well, that’s certainly what it sounded like,” Stephanie said, her color rising again. “If that’s the case, then I don’t know why you even care about Dave and I!”

  Alina’s jaw clenched and she felt her right eye twitch.

  “If I didn’t care, neither you nor Angie would be here right now. What I meant is that it doesn’t matter to me who you slept with, or who Dave slept with, or why no one told me about any of it. It doesn’t matter. The past is over. It’s the present that concerns me.”

  “Agreed,” Stephanie said unexpectedly after a long moment of thoughtful silence. “We need to come up with a plan of action.”

  “I have a plan of action,” Alina said shortly.

  Stephanie glared at her.

  “A plan of action that includes all of us,” she snapped. “You can’t pull your Lone Ranger act on this one.”

  “Sure she can,” Damon said, sipping his beer, “but she won’t be alone. She has me.”

  Stephanie looked at him in exasperation.

  “That doesn’t make it any better,” she said. “The two of you can’t take—” She stopped herself abruptly before saying Harry’s name in front of Angela. “What I mean is, the two of you won’t be enough,” she finished lamely.

  “We always have been before,” Damon replied, a thread of steel in his voice. He regarded Stephanie dispassionately for a moment, his blue eyes suddenly shifting from cobalt to ice blue. “This is what we do. You seem determined to forget that.”

  Stephanie gulped.

  “You two work together, don’t you?” Angela demanded, drawing his attention. “I knew it! Does she work for Homeland Security as well?”

  “Homeland Security?” Blake repeated, looking from Angela to Stephanie in confusion. “Where did you get that idea?”

  The question came out before he noticed Stephanie frantically trying to get his attention and her head fell in resignation.

  “That’s who Damon works for,” Angela said, glancing at Blake. “You didn’t know that?”

  Blake looked at Stephanie helplessly.

  “When we met Damon, he was with the DHS,” she said. “He came in to help with a case John and I were working: the one that led us to Johann Topamari.”

  Michael choked on his beer and Damon glanced at him, amused. Alina paused in her pacing to whack him on the back helpfully.

  “Oh. I see,” was all Blake could muster.

  Angela looked around the room, her eyes slowly narrowing. At last they came to land on Damon, and there they stayed.

  “You do work for Homeland Security, don’t you?” she asked him, her body still.

  Damon hesitated, then shook his head. “No.”

  “Damon,” Viper said warningly, all traces of amusement wiped from her face. His eyes met hers and her she frowned. What the hell was he up to?

  “What do you mean, no?” Angela demanded. “Then where do you work? Does Lina work with you?”

  “We don’t work together, no, but we do the same job.”

  Angela frowned. “What do you do?”

  “We do the jobs no one else can, and that’s all you need to know.”

  “Well, that’s rude!” Angela huffed. “I don’t know why you’re getting all snarky with me. If anyone should be crabby, it should be me! I’ve been thinking all this time that you work for Homeland Security and now that turns out to not be the case.”

  “Don’t feel so bad, Ang,” Alina murmured as she passed the couch. “At least you know his real name. Not many do.
”

  “And you?” Angela twisted to peer up at her. “Do not many people know your real name either?”

  “No.”

  Alina resumed pacing and Angela turned back around with a pout.

  “Well, at least now I know why you two are so perfect for each other,” she muttered, lifting her glass to her lips.

  “You two really think you can take on...this guy? On your own?” Blake asked after a moment of silence. “I mean, I understand that you two probably know him best, but this is...well, him we’re talking about!”

  “I guess not many people know his name either?” Angela asked snidely.

  “We’ve faced worse,” Alina said, ignoring her.

  “Not at home, you haven’t,” Stephanie said. “This is insane. What you’re talking about is suicide!”

  Alina rolled her eyes and sipped her wine, tamping down her impatience. Stephanie didn’t understand, and never would understand. Every day was suicide for them. That’s why they did what no one else could.

  “What we’re talking about is making it possible for you to go back to work, and for Angela to go home,” Damon said.

  “Why do you have to get involved?” Angela asked suddenly, looking at him. “I mean, I get that you’re invested in Alina’s well-being and all, but why do you have to go charging out there with her?”

  “There seems to be some opposition in this room to Alina doing it alone,” he replied dryly. “Or did you miss that argument?”

  “But that was about her leaving the house tomorrow,” Angela objected. “What does that have to do with taking on the guy trying to kill Steph?”

  The silence that followed that statement was deafening and Damon stared at her blankly, clearly at a loss. A giggle erupted from Stephanie. All eyes flew to her face and she chuckled again.

  “Oh Angie,” she gasped. “Please don’t ever change!”

  “Even if you two could take him down on your own,” Blake said slowly, “and that’s a big if, how are you going to get to him?”

  Viper’s smile was deadly.

  “Oh, don’t worry about that,” she said from near the sliding doors. “We’ll get to him. That’s what we do.”

  Stephanie shook her head, frowning.

  “I don’t care what you both say, I don’t like it,” she said. “There has to be a way to do this together and minimize the risk.”

  “There probably is, but we’re not doing it,” Alina said shortly. “I’ve already got a plan, and it doesn’t include any of you. Just sit tight and relax.”

  “And let the adults take care of it?” Blake demanded, looking up. “That’s dangerously close to being insulting.”

  “I’m pretty sure she didn’t mean that for us,” Michael said in a stage whisper. “She knows Marines don’t just sit tight and relax.”

  “Neither do FBI agents!” Stephanie exclaimed.

  “I’m perfectly happy to sit tight and relax,” Angela announced cheerfully. “I just want to do it from my own house.”

  “Well, I’m not, and I won’t,” Stephanie said stubbornly, a martial light glinting in her eyes. “I’m not going to sit and twiddle my thumbs while they do all the work!”

  “I hate to point this out, but you’re not exactly in any condition to much of anything else,” Michael said gently. “You’re not thinking clearly. You can barely walk, and your head must feel like the Road Runner dropped an anvil on it.”

  “They’re not exactly one hundred percent, either!” Stephanie retorted. “Damon had a rifle bullet go through him two weeks ago, and Alina’s been shot herself.”

  Alina raised her eyebrows, surprised. While it was true, she had gone through great lengths to ensure that Stephanie had no idea.

  “I have?” she asked.

  Stephanie glanced at her impatiently.

  “Yes. I saw the bandage on your arm when I came to tell you John died. You didn’t tell me what happened, but I’m not stupid.”

  Alina looked down into her wine glass. She’d almost forgotten about the shot that went through her arm in West Virginia when she was saving Dr. Krupp. So much had happened since then that the minor flesh wound had been relegated to the past without a further thought.

  “They aren’t showing any signs of decreased mobility,” Michael pointed out. “You are. All I’m saying is that, while your willingness is commendable, physically, you can’t help.”

  “There are things I can do to help that don’t require running a marathon,” Stephanie said. “And you and Blake are perfectly healthy. There’s absolutely no reason for her to take all the risk alone.”

  “As I said before: this isn’t a democracy, and it’s not up for debate,” Alina said. “Case closed.”

  Anger flared in Stephanie’s eyes.

  “Case reopened,” she snapped. “I’m not letting you do this. How many ways do I have to say it? You’ll get yourself killed, and for what?”

  “The short answer? For you,” Damon said coldly. “Michael was right. You all seem to have forgotten that, if it weren’t for Alina, none of you would be here right now. I’ve just spent the better part of two hours listening to you all argue and bicker over who’s responsible for what and who owes who imaginary debts.”

  He turned his arctic blue eyes on Angela.

  “You’ve done nothing but complain about the inconvenience of having to stay in a house overnight where you’re protected by three Federal agents, a security system superior to the one that’s in the White House - sorry, gunny, but it’s true - and a bird of prey that takes the term ‘guard dog’ to a whole new level. Instead of thanking Lina, you’ve told her she’s paranoid, ridiculous, and being unnecessary. Do the names Lowell Kwan and Trent Whitfield ring any bells? Was she being ridiculous and paranoid then?”

  Angela sputtered and began to speak, but he cut her off ruthlessly, turning his attention back to Stephanie.

  “You’re talking about the dangers of Alina being visible outside this security perimeter and how exposed and at risk she’ll be, but you’re conveniently ignoring that you’re the one who’s exposed her the most. Whether you thought you were helping or not, you were the one who led teams of assassins straight to her. It was you who put the tracking devices on her cars, and you who sent the information straight to the enemy.”

  Damon’s voice was even and void of emotion as he spoke, the words falling heavily in the silence. Viper sipped her wine, her eyes on his face. At least now she knew what he was up to.

  “But I didn’t know—” Stephanie began to protest.

  “It doesn’t matter what you knew,” Damon cut her off. “What matters is what you did, and you led several teams of killers to her. Forgive me if I find it ironic that you’re now pitching a fit because she might run into some more.”

  “Hear, hear,” Michael muttered under his breath, drawing an amused look from Alina.

  “You were quick to throw John’s name out there, but his death is probably the only thing in this whole situation that couldn’t have been prevented. Why? Because he didn’t tell a soul what he had on his laptop! Instead of bringing Dave’s letters to Alina when she came back last year, he sat on them, and tried to play the hero by investigating and figuring out the mystery himself. It got him killed. Not only did it get him killed, but it started the ball rolling that led us all directly here.”

  Alina pursed her lips thoughtfully and stopped pacing, leaning against the wall next to the sliding doors.

  “The plain truth is that, for all your finger-pointing and moralizing, every last one of you is to blame for some part of this.”

  “I haven’t done anything except complain, apparently,” Angela said, tossing her head defiantly.

  Damon turned his ice blue eyes on her.

  “No? Then you didn’t post your private journal online where it was then hacked by the very person trying to kill Alina?” he asked ruthlessly. “Because that same journal is now being used to get inside her head and force her to make a mistake. He knows he can’t
win straight-up; he trained us too well for that. So he’s using your journal as a psychological weapon to try to weaken Alina to the point that she’ll expose herself, and then he can take the kill shot.”

  By the time he was finished, Angela’s face was white and her empty wine glass was trembling in her hand.

  “I know that you all had good intentions, but you know what they say about those,” Damon said slowly. “Good intentions aside, the damage was done. As far as I’m concerned, you all helped build this monster. You all created a threat that you aren’t capable of defeating, and now Alina and I have to clean up your mess and take it down. That’s fine. That’s what we do and we’ve been trained to handle it. But next time you want to whine about her calling the shots or being high-handed, take a moment and remember exactly why you’re here, and acknowledge that the only person you have to blame is yourself.”

  Silence fell heavily. Stephanie’s face alternated between red and white as anger warred with guilt, and Angela sulked on the sofa. Alina watched Stephanie’s face, absently wondering which emotion would gain the upper hand.

  “Well, I’m glad to see you’ve mastered the art of sugar-coating,” Michael said, breaking the silence at last. “I guess the SEALs aren’t big on diplomacy? Funny. I thought all the politicians came from the Navy.”

  A laugh leapt into Damon’s eyes, transforming the color back to the warm, cobalt blue.

  “You’re the one who ended up in Washington,” he retorted.

  Michael raised his beer in a silent toast, acknowledging the hit.

  “Are you serious right now?” Stephanie demanded, her face bright red.

  Alina’s lips twitched. The anger had won.

  “Are you seriously cracking jokes?”

  Michael looked at her in surprise. “What?”

  Stephanie made a furious noise in the back of her throat.

  “First of all,” she said, glaring at Damon, “who are you to start pointing out everything we’ve done wrong?”

  “Here we go,” Alina murmured under her breath, raising her glass to her lips to finish her wine.