Code Name: Diesel (K19 Shadow Operations Book 2), page 2
“Why would I suggest that?”
“You’re doing a good job of letting me know there’s nowhere for me to stay.”
“You should know Admiral’s on his way here. He’ll probably arrive late tonight.”
“Admiral?” Why was my boss coming here?
“You don’t know who Pershing Kane is?”
“Of course I do.” This is what I disliked about Diesel the most. Because of his ridiculously high level of intelligence, he was condescending more often than not. “I wondered why he was coming here.”
“That isn’t what you said, you—”
I looked up at the ceiling and groaned. “Don’t you have somewhere else you need to be?”
“Ranger said Admiral mentioned something about accompanying you back to DC.”
“Why was Ranger talking to my boss’ boss?”
“He was my college roommate.”
“Agent Kane?”
“One and the same.”
“It figures.” I rested my head against the pillow. As if I could recuperate at home any better than here. At least if I stayed at the lodge, someone would find me if I lost consciousness or…worse. At home, I didn’t even have a cat. “So he’s going to force me to leave. That’s what you’re saying?”
“You can stay at my place.”
By the look on his face, he appeared as startled by his offer as I was. Then I realized he probably wasn’t serious.
“Diesel, I know you think this is funny, but I really don’t have the energy—”
“I wasn’t joking.”
“What? No.” I shook my head hard enough that I got a little dizzy. “No way.”
“Look, I know something you don’t about the transport that day.”
I folded my arms. Had he known about the possible hit and not warned us?
He sat back in the chair and looked up at the ceiling like I had. “I was supposed to be on the team. Ranger pulled me to transport Maisie and him instead.”
I slowly nodded. Now I understood. “Guilty conscience. Let it go.”
“I’m just saying that if I’d been there, maybe I would have been in the line of fire and you wouldn’t have taken the hit.”
“Maybe you wouldn’t have.”
“Whatever. You have two choices. You can stay with me at the camp I’m renting, where there are three bedrooms, or you can go home with Admiral. I’m sure he has someone else he can assign to the investigation.”
“Someone is already assigned to the case temporarily—Ryan. Not to mention, I have more than two choices, and I’m not staying with you.”
“We’ll talk about this again later.” Diesel got up and walked out, presumably to go to the ER to see the woman who’d told me they had sex, even though he said they hadn’t.
I closed my eyes and rested against the pillow. My head was killing me, and I doubted it had a thing to do with the aftereffects of my surgery.
The position my body was in made my back hurt, but when I’d tried to turn to one side or the other, the pain in my abdomen was unbearable. Part of me hoped the test results would indicate I needed to spend another night in the hospital. At least here, there were intravenous pain meds.
A few minutes later, a nurse walked through my door with a syringe on a tray. “You look like you could use this,” she said, checking the various machines connected to my body.
“Any word from the doctor?” I asked.
“Yes. He said you’ll be with us one more night. He’ll probably be in to talk to you in a few minutes.” She swabbed the IV port and pressed the plunger, pushing the medicine into my system.
I closed my eyes again, waiting for blessed sleep to take me away. Sadly, it didn’t. Like every other time I wanted my mind to rest, it replayed the scene when I’d been shot and two others lost their lives. One was the man in FBI custody—Maxim Edwards. The other was one of the agents the CIA had sent up to help with the investigation. From what I’d heard, he was a family man, married, with two children. His death broke my heart.
While we hadn’t identified the shooter, other than that it was most likely a mob hit man, the more important unknown was who had leaked the details of Edwards’ transport. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if that was one of the reasons Agent Kane was on his way here.
When I caught a glimpse of someone raising a gun that day, my first instinct was to get Edwards to the ground. But I wasn’t quick enough. My midsection had been exposed by the way my body was angled when the bullet struck. If I’d been standing and the shot hit in the same place, my ballistic vest would’ve protected me.
The shooter got off another round that hit his target. The GSW that killed Edwards hit him in the head. A few inches to the left, and it would’ve hit mine instead.
When the effects of the pain meds finally kicked in enough that I could sleep, nightmares would take over. That’s when I’d dream feeling the bullet hit my skull, and also when I’d be jarred awake.
I knew from experience I’d have to find someone to talk to about my clear case of post-traumatic stress syndrome, or the nightmares would never end.
Maybe Diesel would know of someone. I shook my head. Why was he the first person I thought of? Someone from my own team would help me, not him or his.
It was becoming increasingly harder for me to stop myself from falling asleep, so I gave in, hating that soon my brain would take me straight back into the terror I’d felt that day.
3
DIESEL
Standing just outside the emergency room bay, I listened as Patricia Fasano gave the accounting of her abduction, time in captivity, and escape to local law enforcement.
Either she’d been drugged in the same way Maisie had and it was still in her system, causing her to remember things in a way they never could’ve happened, or she was lying. My gut told me it was the latter.
But why? And why had she visited Bryar and attempted to make her believe she and I had sex? None of it made sense.
I walked a handful of steps away when I saw the same doctor who’d treated Maisie walking in my direction. As I’d anticipated, he went into the bay where Fasano was being questioned.
When the guys who’d been interviewing her came out and noticed me, I pointed to one of them and indicated where he should hang out. I wanted him to listen in on the conversation between the doctor and her. To the other, I motioned with my head and led him outside the emergency room.
“How much of that did you hear?” asked the officer.
“Enough to know it doesn’t add up.”
“Did you hear her say she wasn’t sexually assaulted?”
“I didn’t,” I responded.
“We were getting ready to question her when she blurted it out. Seemed odd.”
Every bit of it seemed “odd.”
For now, we needed to wait for the tox screen to come back. I had no doubt the doctor would perform some kind of examination to determine whether or not she was telling the truth about being raped. If there was evidence she had been drugged, then my gut telling me she was lying would be wrong—at least about part of it.
Rather than itching to get back inside to eavesdrop on the conversation between the doctor and Fasano, I was more anxious to get back upstairs to Agent Davies.
I’d never felt this level of guilt about not being part of an op where others were injured or had died. Of course I felt bad about it, but this was different. Maybe it was because she was a woman, although I’d worked with plenty who could kick my ass. Maybe it was because she seemed so young.
I returned to the emergency room, knowing I had to go in and question Fasano myself, but I dreaded it. When I saw my colleague Garrison Cassidy—code name Cowboy—standing just outside the bay, it gave me an idea.
“Who’s in there with her?” I asked in a quiet voice.
“The doctor and one nurse.”
I gave him a head nod, and he followed me a few feet away.
“I’m going to request you be the lead on this. Are you okay with that?”
“Already done. Ranger assigned me. Said if I saw you, to tell you to get in touch with him.”
I breathed a sigh of relief and said a silent thanks to Ranger. “Roger that. Thanks, man.”
Cowboy flicked the bill of his hat. “My pleasure, sir.”
While officially I wasn’t ranked any higher than he was, unofficially I was. Ranger was second-in-command, and since he and I had been partners on ops for years, I was the de facto third.
“After we chat with Fasano, I’ll head up to check on Agent Davies.”
“Copy that.”
When the two people with the psychologist left, Cowboy and I went in. It irked me when Fasano smiled upon seeing me.
“Hi, Diesel,” she said, scooting so she was sitting up straighter.
“Have you met Agent Cassidy?” We weren’t really “agents” anymore, but I wanted her to understand that he and I were both here in an official capacity.
“Hello.” Her eyes darted in his direction, but her gaze returned to mine.
“I’m sure you’re tired of answering questions, so Cowboy here will take your statement later.”
“Not you?”
“No, he’ll be the lead on this part of the investigation.”
This news made her smile again. “I’m so glad you’re here anyway.” She reached out as if she expected me to take her hand.
“I need to leave, but like I said, Cowboy will take over from here.”
Her eyes opened wide. “Leave? When will you be back?”
“I’m not certain.” I probably should have told her I wouldn’t be. However, there was still a chance my gut was wrong and she wasn’t lying about what had happened to her, in which case, I didn’t want to come off as callous. I did want to keep my distance, though, given she’d misled Bryar, and I didn’t know what angle she was working in doing so.
When I arrived at her room, Bryar was asleep. Damn, she looked even younger than she was. And yet, I still had to push thoughts of waking up naked next to her out of my head. I really needed to get laid. Since when was I so affected that I couldn’t keep my libido in check? Interesting that Patricia Fasano had never had that effect on me.
Bryar said she hated being called babe, but the truth was, it was what my mother called my sisters and me, so I considered it the highest term of endearment.
Her hair was spread out on the pillow, loose like it had been earlier. Before she was shot, I’d never seen it that way. She always kept it up in a “regulation” bun.
While I would’ve called it brown before, I could now see it was mostly blonde. And wavy. The kind of hair I’d love to run my fingers through.
When at rest, her face, that was usually so expressive, looked peaceful. I’d say I’d rarely seen her that way, but with the horror of what we were investigating, how could she be at peace?
Bryar woke with a start and surveyed the room like she didn’t know where she was.
“Hi,” she said in a tone of voice likely affected by pain meds when her gaze landed on me.
“Hey.” I stood and walked over to the bed. When close enough, I brushed her hair from her face. She studied me.
“Diesel?”
“Shh,” I whispered, not wanting the moment we were having to end. Soon enough, we’d be back to agent and operative, investigators and colleagues. For now, I wanted her to be Bryar, a woman I probably would’ve taken on a date if we’d met under different circumstances.
“Did you see Fasano?”
“I did, but someone else has been assigned to question her.”
She nodded. “Conflict of interest?”
“I suppose. However, not in the way you’re suggesting. She may open up to Cowboy in a way she wouldn’t with me. He can be her ‘friend.’ I can’t.”
“Because you had sex with her?”
I resisted the urge to tweak Bryar’s nose. “You know I didn’t.”
“How do I know that?”
“Because you can tell when I’m lying.”
She closed her eyes and settled into her pillow with a sigh that made me want to crawl in beside her.
“Get some sleep, sweetheart.”
“They’re keeping me here another night.”
Selfishly, I was sorry to hear that. Since the minute I’d blurted the offer for her to stay with me, I found myself wanting to take Bryar back to the camp I was beginning to think of as mine, light a fire, wrap her in a blanket, and bring her a cup of hot chocolate.
When she opened her eyes, she caught me staring. “What?”
“I wish I could get you out of this place.”
“You do? Do you have intravenous pain meds at your cabin?”
I laughed. “We call it a camp, and I’m completely out of intravenous pharmaceuticals.”
“Now, see, why would I want to go home with you?”
I reached over and brushed her hair away from her forehead like I had before, but this time, I continued softly stroking her blonde locks.
“That feels so good.” She pulled the blanket up to her chin and burrowed into the pillow. “Maybe I would like to go with you after all.”
“Sleep. It’s what you need right now.”
“Are you leaving?”
“Not yet.” I’d stay as long as I could, enjoying the moment that I knew tomorrow, she wouldn’t remember a thing about.
“I don’t want you to.”
“I won’t.” I kept stroking her hair until I was sure she was out. Only then did I pull the recliner closer to the bed, so if she woke, she’d know I was still here. Once I sat down, though, I drifted off too.
“Shh,” I heard someone whisper. I opened my eyes and surveyed my surroundings. I had no idea what time it was until I looked up at the clock and saw it was seven in the morning.
I sat up, tried to stretch my stiff muscles, and groaned.
“Did you sleep in that chair?” Bryar asked.
“I guess I did.” I ran my hand through my hair. “Sorry about that.”
She cocked her head. “I was asleep too, so you didn’t bother me.”
“The doctor should be in shortly,” said the nurse, who’d kept silent to that point. Probably because Bryar had shushed her.
“I hope he says I can go home.”
I stood and looked out the window. It appeared we got quite a bit of snow the night before. I’d text Wasp, who was in the camp next door to mine, and make sure he shoveled the driveway. Maybe go in and turn the heat up too.
“Um, Diesel, you should know I’ve decided to go back to DC with Agent Kane.”
My eyes scrunched. “You decided that while you were asleep?”
“No. Just now.”
“Why?”
“I’m not sure how much help I’ll be on this investigation while I’m recuperating.”
“Huh…Um…Okay.”
“I don’t want to be a bother.”
“Is someone there who can take care of you?” It hadn’t occurred to me that Bryar might be in a relationship Admiral knew nothing about.
“I have an aunt and uncle who don’t live too far away. I’m sure they’ll be able to check in periodically.”
Periodically? “Where do they live exactly?”
“Not far.”
I raised a brow. “Answer my question. If you don’t, you know I can find out on my own.”
“Okay, they don’t live close, but maybe they could come and stay with me for a few days.”
The door opened, and I raised my head, expecting to see the doctor. Instead, it was Ryan, Bryar’s immediate boss. He stalked over to the bed. “Hey, sweetheart. When are you getting out of here?”
Sweetheart? What the fuck? She was giving me shit about Fasano, and yet it seemed like she was in a relationship with her boss.
“I’m waiting for the doctor now.”
He looked at his watch. “I’m supposed to be on a flight out of Albany in three hours, but if you need me to stick around, I can.”
When I said, “We’ve got it handled,” he acted like he’d just noticed I was in the room.
Bryar’s eyes met mine. I winked and gave her a head nod.
“I’ll be fine.”
“If you’re sure.” He cleared his throat and looked over at me. “Mr. Jacks? What are you doing here?”
Several answers came to mind, all of which would cause problems for the woman in the hospital bed, whom I was trying to help, not make things worse for.
Either his question was rhetorical or I took too long to respond, because after he leaned over and kissed Bryar’s forehead, he walked out.
“Nice guy,” I said once I was sure he was gone.
“He isn’t so bad once you get to know him better,” she said under her breath.
“I find that hard to believe. You’re twice the agent he is.”
She shook her head. “I’m not, but thanks.” She closed her eyes and rested her head against the pillow.
“How do you feel this morning?” My hand itched to move her hair from her forehead and replace the feel of his kiss with my own, but I doubted she’d be as receptive to it as last night when she was under the influence of medication.
“I have a headache.”
“How’s the stomach pain?”
“Hard to say which is worse.”
“I’ll be right back.”
4
BRYAR
Diesel walked out just like Ryan had, but at least he said he’d be back.
I’d never admit it out loud, but I was glad my boss had to leave. My assumption, then, was that I’d be permitted to stay on this investigation. Deep down, that’s what I wanted to do. I wondered if Agent Kane had changed his mind about escorting me back to DC since he was permitting Ryan—or Fitz as he told people to call him—to leave.
When Diesel returned, a nurse was with him. “You have another thirty minutes before you’re scheduled for your next dose. How would you rate your pain?”
“The headache is worse than my incision.”
“Let me talk to your doctor. I know he wants you to try to eat something before you leave. That may help with the headache.” She fussed with the blood pressure cuff on my arm before walking out.
