Next Exit, Quarter Mile Read online

  “Yes.” Alina went into the kitchen and pulled a bottle of water out of the refrigerator. “Shockingly, she was probably fine to drive, but the last thing she needs is to hand the Agency a reason to suspend her for cause.”

  “Is that a possibility?” Damon asked, raising an eyebrow and watching as she crossed over to the couch opposite him.

  “She's on administrative leave now, effective today,” she told him, sinking onto the couch. She took the cap off her bottle and took a long drink of water.

  “Why?”

  “That's what I'm going to ask Charlie or Harry when I get around to them,” Viper replied grimly.

  “You think they arranged it?” Hawk asked skeptically. “Why?”

  “I don't know. I just have a gut feeling.”

  “That's what the third degree was about earlier,” he murmured. “You think I had something to do with it?”

  “I think it's very convenient that you showed up when you did,” Alina retorted, sitting back and watching him with those dark and fathomless eyes of hers.

  “I showed up when I did because you asked me to drop you a clean phone and didn't explain why,” Hawk replied, closing the laptop and devoting his full attention to her. “I was already on my way here when I was...encouraged to come.”

  “You're not going to tell me which one contacted you, are you?” Viper asked after studying him for a moment.

  “Not until you tell me what's really going on,” he countered.

  Blue eyes met brown and held as they stared at each other in a silent battle of wills. Alina felt her lips tighten and she tapped a long finger against the water bottle thoughtfully, never taking her gaze off his eyes. She didn't doubt for one moment that he would have shown up on her doorstep eventually. Curiosity would have gotten the better of him. The timing of his arrival, however, was highly suspect. If there was one thing that held true with Hawk, it was that his arrival usually indicated something deeper was afoot. So what was it this time?

  “I haven't quite figured that one out myself yet,” she finally broke the silence.

  “Let's start with the clean phone,” Hawk suggested, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why do you need one?”

  “Wow, you just jump right in, don't you?” Viper demanded, sipping her water.

  A laugh lit the depths of his eyes, making them glitter like sapphires.

  “When I want something, I go after it,” he murmured.

  “Yeah? How's that working out for you?” she asked tartly.

  Damon let out a bark of laughter.

  “That's cold,” he informed her, sitting up and leaning forward to set the laptop on the coffee table. “And you're avoiding the question.”

  He got up and went around the couch to head into the kitchen. Alina twisted around and watched as he went to the fridge. Her stomach was fluttering around in reaction to their playful banter and she suppressed a sigh, forcing herself to set the emotion aside. This was hardly the time for racing hearts and sweaty palms.

  “I'm having another beer. Do you want one?” he called from the kitchen.

  “Sure,” she agreed, turning around so she wouldn't see him making himself at home in her kitchen. It was a sight she didn't want to get used to.

  Setting her half-empty water bottle on the table next to his laptop, she reached down to pull off her boots. She was just pulling her feet up next to her on the couch when Damon handed her a cold bottle of Yuengling and sat down next to her.

  “Thanks.”

  “Now, why don't you tell me why you need a clean phone?” he said, sitting back and propping his feet on the coffee table. He turned his head to look at her and Alina found herself staring at bright blue eyes inches from hers.

  “I'm just taking precautions,” she replied, shifting closer to the arm of the couch to put a little more distance between them. Hawk's lips twitched as she made herself comfortable in the corner. “I may have been...compromised.”

  The look of amusement vanished from his face and he stared at her intently for a moment.

  “Care to explain that?” he asked softly.

  Alina sipped the cold beer and shrugged.

  “All I can tell you is that someone may know who I am and where I was last week.”

  “What's Charlie doing about it?”

  “Trying to find out who's responsible.”

  Hawk stared at her for a long, pregnant moment and Viper met his gaze squarely, watching as the pieces fell into place in his mind.

  “Yet he hasn't decommissioned you,” he murmured before falling silent again. After a long moment, Hawk shook his head. “He thinks we have a leak,” he finally stated instead of asked.

  Viper nodded slowly and Hawk let out a long sigh before he leaned his head back against the couch, stunned. She sipped her beer, watching as he stared at the ceiling silently, processing the implications. He was taking it quite well, all things considered. Aside from a faint tick in the corner of his jaw, Hawk showed no sign of the tension she knew he must be feeling.

  “Is this house secure?” he finally asked, looking at her.

  “It is.”

  “No one knows about it?”

  “Only the three of us,” she answered. “Harry doesn't even know where it is.”

  “And the gunny and fearless feds?”

  “Everyone who comes here has had the GPS on their cars and electronics re-programmed,” she assured him. “Once they cross the three-mile perimeter, they're off grid.”

  He nodded and lifted the beer to his lips, drinking half the bottle before he lowered it.

  “Ok. Tell me what you can,” he said, turning to face her. “I'm assuming it involves your last assignment?”

  “I was made entering the country,” Viper told him, picking her words carefully. Their assignments were classified, even from each other. “I lost them, but they picked me up again when I left.”

  “Could it have been one of your contacts?” he asked.

  “I didn't use any,” she replied grimly. “I was en route somewhere else when I was redirected.”

  “They changed your assignment mid-trip?”

  “More like...added to it,” Viper qualified.

  Hawk frowned and rubbed his forehead thoughtfully.

  “You received instructions the usual way?” he asked. She nodded. “Then it has to be someone on Charlie's end.”

  “That's what he's trying to determine,” Alina agreed.

  “What are you supposed to do in the meantime?”

  “Sit tight and lay low,” she muttered disgustedly.

  Hawk crooked his eyebrow.

  “So you get yourself embroiled in a smuggling operation. Way to lay low.”

  “Well, I didn't know that was going to happen, did I?” Alina demanded, laughing. “In fact, I wouldn't even be here if...” Her voice suddenly trailed off as an arrested look came into her eyes.

  “What?”

  “I...nothing,” she murmured, shaking her head. “It's nothing.”

  Damon's eyes narrowed but he didn't press it.

  “Well, this explains why Harry contacted me, at any rate,” he said, lifting the beer to his lips again. Alina's eyes flew to his and he nodded slightly as he drank. “Yes, it was Harry,” he said, lowering the bottle. “He had a handwritten message passed to me in Amsterdam by a courier.”

  “He's making sure the leak doesn't know who you are,” Viper said slowly. “What did the message say?”

  When Hawk didn't answer, she glanced at him. A faint flush was staining his neck and one of Alina's eyebrows soared into her forehead.

  “Hawk, something seems to be wrong with your neck,” she told him. “If I didn't know better, I'd think you were blushing.”

  Damon chuckled and met her gaze with a rueful grin.

  “Harry was very inventive with his instructions,” he replied. “He sent me to a...house.”

  “Did you blush there too?” she asked, choking back a laugh. “I've heard those houses can change a man.�
�

  “Keep it up, Viper, and I'll show you just how much,” Damon promised.

  Alina burst out laughing.

  “So, Harry sent you to a brothel?” she asked, her shoulders still shaking. “That's new.”

  “I thought it was joke, until I saw the name of it,” Hawk told her. Alina looked at him and he smiled. “It's called the Viper's Nest.”

  Alina stared at him and, absurdly, felt a rush of warmth go through her. Harry sent Hawk to her because he wanted to make sure she was safe. More than that, Hawk came straight here.

  “I never thought I'd say I was glad a whorehouse made you think of me,” she murmured, “but I am.”

  Blue eyes met brown and Hawk smiled slowly.

  “Am I forgiven for showing up under suspicious circumstances?” he asked softly.

  “Maybe,” Alina answered just as softly.

  Damon leaned toward her, his eyes never leaving hers.

  “You contacted me for a clean phone when you didn't know who to trust,” he said in a low voice that washed over her like warm sunshine. “Trust me again now.”

  Alina felt herself being sucked into depths of blue and she swallowed with difficulty as her mouth went dry. His lips touched hers gently and Alina was enveloped with a warm sense of belonging. She desperately wanted nothing more than to let go of all her doubts and trust him. She wanted to lean into him and pretend that his arms could support her through anything that faced them. For just a few minutes, she wanted to forget who they were and pretend they were just two normal people.

  Her hand came up to touch his jaw and she pulled away gently.

  “If I didn't trust you, you wouldn't be inside my house,” she pointed out quietly.

  “I know you trust Hawk,” he whispered, his eyes liquid cobalt. “I'm asking you to trust me.”

  Alina's breath caught in her throat at his ability to see right through her. Her eyes dropped away from the look in his and fell on his lips. She wanted to lean back in and kiss him. If she did, that would end this ridiculous conversation and she could let him believe whatever he wanted about her silence. He would think he won, that she’d given in to the emotions she'd been fighting for the past year. It would be so easy. All she had to do was...

  “You haven't given me any reason to.”

  The words fell heavily between them and Damon sighed imperceptibly. He sat back and looked at her, his lips twisting ruefully.

  “You're right,” he agreed, “I haven't.”

  Alina exhaled and lifted the beer to her lips, betraying only a slight tremor in her hand. Damon's eyes caught the movement. Reaching out, he took the bottle from her hand, setting it with his on the coffee table. Before she could protest, he laid a finger on her lips, then closed both his hands around hers warmly.

  “This is new to me, too,” he told her, capturing her attention, his eyes unusually serious. “You're not the only one in uncharted territory. I trust Viper with my life, but I want to trust you with everything else. I'm learning more about you each time I see you and Viper is only part of you, just as Hawk is only part of me. I'm kind of digging the Jersey Girl part of you, but that doesn't mean that I'm not uncomfortable with her.”

  “You should be,” Alina said with a quick grin, “the Jersey Girl is kind of scary.”

  “Not quite as scary as Viper has a tendency to be,” Damon murmured.

  Alina let out a choked laugh.

  “Listen to us,” she muttered, “talking about our alter egos like they're separate people.”

  She pulled her hands away from him and swung her feet off the couch, getting up restlessly. Damon leaned his arm on the back of the couch and watched as she picked up her beer from the table and strode impatiently to the mantle above the fireplace.

  “Essentially, they are,” he said thoughtfully. “They're the work versions of us. Everyone is someone different at work.”

  “Not quite this different,” Alina replied. She turned to face him. “Don't you ever wish...”

  Her eyes met his and her voice trailed off.

  “That we were normal people who didn't have to hide who we are or what we do?” Damon prompted when she didn't continue. She nodded. “Sometimes. Then I think of all the people who are tortured, killed, manipulated and oppressed by the monsters we hunt. You've been to Syria. You've been into the villages of Afghanistan. You've seen the women and girls who've been burned and mutilated, sold as child brides and locked away. If we don't do what we do, we'll be facing that here. So, yes, sometimes I wish I had a nine to five in an office in the city, but then I think, who else will do this? We're good at what we do.”

  Alina stared at him for a long moment before she slowly nodded.

  “That's what I think, most of the time,” she murmured. “It's only when I'm around you that I wonder about what ifs. That's what makes me...uncomfortable, as you put it. You make me want more, but that's not possible for us.”

  “Sure it is,” Hawk said matter-of-factly. “It's just not going to be Stephanie or Angela's idea of normal.”

  Alina chuckled and leaned against the mantle. She seemed relaxed, but Hawk knew she was standing over there to give herself the distance she needed right now. He sat back on the couch, content to let her have her way.

  “They don't understand at all,” she said ruefully. “But then, who would? It's not like there's a rule book for this.”

  “I never cared much for rule books,” he mused.

  “Me either.”

  They were silent for a minute while Alina finished her beer and he watched her, wondering what was going on in her head. Her face gave nothing away. She was protected behind the mask she wore so well.

  “You realize how complicated this will get?” Viper finally asked, her eyes meeting his.

  Hawk smiled faintly.

  “When did that ever stop us?”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Viper sipped her coffee and raised the binoculars to her eyes. She was parked on the side of the road, half a block away from the salvage yard housing John's car. The tracking device she installed on the Firebird was still functioning, telling her exactly where the wreck was located in the large, sprawling yard behind a nondescript building. The business was open for the day, as of ten minutes ago when a man dressed in navy pants and scuffed work boots pulled into the side lot. He climbed out of his pickup, large coffee in hand, and ambled up to the door, unlocking it with a yawn before disappearing inside.

  Viper glanced at her watch and set her coffee down in the cup holder beside her. She pulled out her phone and dialed, keeping her eyes on the lot down the street.

  “Al's Salvage,” a deep voice answered shortly.

  “I'm looking for a clutch for a '91 Mazda RX7,” Viper told him.

  “Let me check,” he said. “Hold on.”

  She waited while he set the phone down, raising the binoculars again and zooming in on the front window of the office. He was standing at the end of the counter, looking at an old monitor and tapping on a keyboard hidden below counter level. A minute or so later, he reached for the phone again.

  “You're in luck,” he told her. “One came in last week.”

  “How much?”

  “$120.00, and you remove it yourself.”

  “I'm on my way now. You're open, right?” Alina asked, shifting the binoculars as a black sedan pulled into the front lot.

  “Yeah and I close at six.”

  “Oh, I'll be there in a few minutes. Thanks!” She waited half a second, then exclaimed, “Oh wait! You know what? Hello? You still there?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I just thought...I'm also looking for a transmission for a '79 Firebird,” Alina told him. “You don't happen to have one, do you?”

  “A Firebird came in yesterday, but it's not listed yet,” he answered. “You can check back next week to see if it's still here.”

  “Oh well. At least you have the clutch. I'll be in.”

  Viper disconnected as a tow truck pulled in behind
the sedan. She frowned and watched two men in suits get out of the sedan and walk toward the building.

  “Damn,” she breathed softly.

  The FBI was early.

  Viper pressed her lips together, her eyes shifting to the tow truck, idling in the front lot. After staring at it for a moment, she started the engine and headed up the block towards the salvage lot. As she drew closer, she saw two men in the front of the truck, talking and sipping coffee while they waited for the paperwork to be presented and processed in the office. Alina glanced at the small building as she pulled into the front lot. The two agents were at the counter. She only had a few minutes.

  She parked behind the tow truck and got out of the Jeep. Reaching down, Viper pulled her knife out of her ankle holster. As she walked past the back tires of the tow truck, she thrust the blade into the sidewall of the tire closest to her. A low hiss began, becoming louder as she pulled the blade out. With a quick movement, she dropped her sunglasses to the pavement and bent to pick them up, swiftly inserting the knife into the inner tire. A second hiss joined the first and she slid the knife back into her boot as she straightened up with her sunglasses in her hand.

  Placing them on her nose, she continued past the truck and towards the office. The two men in the truck glanced at her as she passed, blissfully unaware of the hissing at the back. Alina's stride shortened considerably and, as she walked, she rounded her shoulders and her hips took on a slight swing; very small adjustments that made all the difference to her demeanor. By the time she pulled open the door to the office, her lips were arranged in a hard pout and her eyes were narrowed, giving her the world-weary look of someone who had been around the block a few times.

  “...shouldn't take long,” one of the FBI agents was saying as she entered the office behind them.

  “I wish you guys would've called,” the man behind the counter muttered, typing on his old keyboard. His shirt identified him as Al. “I'm the only one here til noon. I'll have to lock up out here while I take you back.”

  “You can just point us in the right direction,” the other agent said. “You don't have to escort us.”

  Al shot him a look of pure disbelief.