Rule Breaker (Project ROOT Book 1) Page 5

  She didn't jerk back or smack him. He took it as a good sign and deepened the kiss, ignoring Jake. His dick stirred back to life underneath his ACUs and she must have felt it since she broke the kiss and moved back from him.

  “Perhaps, later we can have our heart to heart.”

  “Perhaps. But understand it's a give and take, Commander.” Her meaning was clear. If he expected her to talk, he'd have to fill her in on who and what he was.

  “Got it.” He smiled at her before hopping back into the cart with Jake, who wasted no time starting it back up and tearing off toward the holding rooms.

  “Hope you know what you're doing, boss.” He heard the hint of worry in O’Malley's voice. He even understood it.

  “Have no clue. I'm winging it,” he admitted.

  Jake muttered under his breath as he slammed on the breaks outside of where Barclay’s men—Tinsman, James, and Franks—now resided.

  Murray stepped out the door, four files held in his hands.

  “Those for me?”

  “Sure are.” Murray handed them over.

  “Anything interesting?” He'd read them himself, but Murray had an eidetic memory and would give him the short and sweet versions.

  “Franks is the only member who has a family. Wife, daughter who happens to be sick. He's bleeding money for her care. I suspect it's why he left the military and hooked up with Barclay. Tinsman was dishonorably discharged from the Marines. He apparently has an authority problem.”

  O’Malley snorted.

  “James, he was also dishonorably discharged from the army. He has a problem understanding the word no from women. Both Tinsman and James are in debt up to their eyebrows. James likes to spend his free time at the casinos. I suspect from Tinsman's spending habits, drugs are his vice.”

  “What the fuck is Barclay thinking, hiring these types of guys to do missions?” Jake asked the question he had been thinking.

  “Barclay doesn't give a shit. They're expendable, warm bodies who take payment to blow shit up.”

  “Pretty much,” Murray responded. “I hacked Barclay's systems. Neither Tinsman nor James have a stellar record with them, either. During their last mission, James was accused of raping one of the hostages they freed. Barclay settled with her family and managed to keep it out of the news. She was seventeen.”

  Shocked by Barclay’s actions, he shook his head. If one of his guys ever hurt a civilian, or a young girl, he wouldn’t hesitate to cut off their balls and stuff them down their throats.

  “And Franks?”

  “One of the few at Barclay who has a stellar record. No surprise there, though. He had an exemplary record with the military. He's a stand-up guy. Pays his bills on time. Married to his high school sweetheart. He'll be the one to talk,” Murray stated.

  He figured the same.

  “I also made a file on your doctor. Nothing interesting. She's smart, pays her bills, and has been with her current job since she graduated medical school.”

  “Thanks.” He glanced at the folders in his hands.

  “The doctor's parents are starting to fuss. They've called the embassy, State Department and CIA. Rumor has it they are planning to do a press conference in the next two hours, begging for status on their missing daughter.”

  “If her parents do a press conference they are painting a target on the doctor's back,” O’Malley stated.

  So far, they'd been able to keep Rae's involvement quiet. Her parents going live would change it. Although, he was sure they could also use it their advantage. “She's going to be part of our new mission.”

  He handed off the files to Jake, minus Rae's. “I want you and Hanover talking to Franks and James. See what you can get out of them. If Franks wants to talk, let him have his say. I'll talk to Tinsman.”

  “Got it, boss.” Jake hit his Tac-Com to get Hanover to holding.

  “Also, get Rae a line out. Let her speak to her parents. Remind her to give them as little information as possible and explain she is safe with friendlies.”

  O’Malley nodded. “Will do.”

  Entering holding, Asher walked back to the room where Tinsman was being held. It surprised him to find the guy stretched out on a bed, sleeping.

  What the fuck? His ass would be in for a surprise. Knowing the door would open without a sound, he pushed on it and strode silently toward the rack.

  He kicked it hard while yelling, “Up and at 'em!”

  Tinsman flew off the cot, falling onto the cement floor.

  “I want a lawyer.” He announced as he picked himself up off the ground and slumped back on the bed.

  Asher would have the damn bed, chair, and table removed from the room when he was done talking to the jackass. Tinsman deserved no comforts as far as he was concerned. “I want world peace, but with assholes like you, that shit just ain't happening.”

  “I know my rights.”

  “Good for you,” Asher snarled. “FYI, you have no rights here unless I choose to give them to you. You should be happy I didn’t drop your ass in Gitmo.”

  Tinsman blanched and he smirked.

  “You can't hold me against my will. I'm an American citizen.”

  Ignoring Tinsman's outburst, he sat. “Tell me what happened on the mission.”

  “You know what happened, you were there.”

  “I want it in your words.”

  “Fine. Your team was supposed to be there for observation only, but one of your guys opened fire when we were talking to the guerillas. Next thing I know, your team killed everyone in the center of town.”

  A headache was forming behind Asher’s eyes. He squeezed the bridge of his nose, fighting his temper. Didn’t surprise him Tinsman decided to lie through his teeth. Bastard probably wouldn’t know the truth if it smacked him in the face.

  “You want a shovel to go along with your bullshit? It's getting thick in here.”

  “It's the truth.”

  “Video will show otherwise.”

  “Barclay confiscated all the video. Standard operating procedure.” The smarmy bastard had the balls to smile. “So why don't you run along now and send me my lawyer?”

  Pretty fucking obvious to him, Tinsman had no intention of speaking the truth. Which was fine. He stood, and grabbed the folder he brought in with him. Punching in his passcode, he waited till he heard the locks disengage before he turned to a lounging Tinsman. “Each of my men are hardwired for video and sound. Barclay didn't get our internal feed. I guess I should also tell you we had eyes in the skies. You might want to ruminate on your statement before the next time we speak.”

  Tinsman yelled some obscenity as the door slammed shut. He didn’t give a shit. Let the fucker stew. He other important things to do, like informing Rae they’d be moving her to the safe house in the morning.

  Chapter Five

  A safe house? She glanced out at the runway running parallel to the short row of cabins nestled in a line of trees. She hadn’t seen those when getting off the plane earlier. They were on a military base which didn’t exist—at least, in the sense of the word—anymore. How had she gotten here? What had she done in her life to end up in a messed-up situation like this? Rae rubbed the back of her neck, trying to ease the building tension. Ever since she woke on the plane, her mind had been going a million miles an hour, which created one hell of a migraine.

  Asher built the command center into an old World War II bunker. The capabilities were endless, along with ensuring her safety, but at what price? How long would she have to stay here with people she didn’t think she could trust? As much as he said they weren’t like those who fired upon them, she had a sneaky suspicion they were. She couldn’t reason out why Asher’s presence always sent her libido spinning out of control.

  Maybe it’d been a lack of sex on her part. Being stuck in a jungle could make for less than optimal conditions for finding a partner. Even if there were, though, she didn’t think she’d actively pursue anything.

  She had six months remai
ning on her contract with Doctors Without Borders, and then she’d have to find something else to do with her life, or re-up. After this little scenario, she didn’t know if she could give them another two years of her time. Don’t get her wrong, she loved the job. Loved watching people flourish with tiny improvements on their lifestyles. However, she didn’t sign up to be kidnapped and taken to a secret underground bunker, either.

  Surely, her supervisor would be calling soon to get her out of this. At least, they let her talk to her mom. God, she hated hearing the tears in her voice. She assured both her parents she was safe, secure, and doing well. Everything else would have to wait until she could say more.

  She rubbed her hands on her jeans and glanced around the new safe house digs. Modern with a military flare, so she couldn’t complain too much. The bed left much to be desired, the closet about the same. It reminded her more of a barrack than a home. Considering where she currently resided, it fit.

  She glanced at the clock on the wall and frowned. Thirty-six hours had passed since she’d been thrust into a situation where she didn’t belong. She worried about Juan and Isabella and the twins. Maria, God love her, stayed behind to care for them.

  Tears stung the corners of her eyes. She feared for her friend. For the babies. God, why did their parents have to find a backbone in those final moments? The men sent to care for her friend at least radioed she was safe, as were the children.

  Would someone go back for them? Were they in harm’s way? This is why you don’t need downtime.

  She stepped to the window and gazed over the open airfield. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. No people. No trucks. Like Asher told her, they did everything underground. The idea of being alone on the backside of an “abandoned base” sent a chill through her. There’s keeping someone safe, then there’s ignoring them completely. She hoped it wasn’t the latter.

  She glanced at the clock for the third time in less than an hour and huffed out a breath of impatience. At least when she’d been in the jungle, she had something to do. Someone to help. Here, she twiddled away the hours. Not her idea of a good time. She sat and started going through the lineup Asher left for her to peruse. He hoped, by showing her pictures, it would jumpstart her memory. The only problem was, she didn’t need it jumpstarted. She could recall every moment. The sounds. The acrid smell of gunpowder and blood. The fear. All of it sat in a neatly wrapped package of her mind, waiting for the perfect moment to explode.

  Yet, instead of closing the book, she looked. Face after face filled the pages, four columns down, eight across. It reminded her of a police suspect book, and she supposed maybe it was. She studied each person. Took in every scar. Every line. The color of their eyes and the set of their mouths. A weird, but relaxing technique she picked up while in medical school. It helped her remember patient names, and with their names, she could recollect their ailments and treatments. It was what made her a standout in her class.

  Rae flipped the page and stopped. A brief flash of memory from the mass killing pushed forward. She saw the man staring back at her from his photograph. He’d been…She closed her eyes, trying to slow her mind down so she could figure out if she missed anything. A man—tall, athletic build, not too big like Asher or his team but not out of shape by any means—yelled at the men around him, but he wasn’t firing. Then, a split second later, the man with the cruel smirk appeared in the door.

  She glanced at the picture. Him. A split second later, this man appeared. He had haunting eyes, three days’ worth of scruff and thin lips, and nothing about him showed a bit of happiness. He appeared stressed. A bit depressed. Unlike a police book, this one had names below it. Franks, Joseph. Could Asher have been telling her the truth the whole time? Some of them were good guys? Still doesn’t explain their uniforms or why they looked alike. She tapped the book with her thumb. No, none of it made a lick of sense.

  The sound of a vehicle approaching caught her attention. After closing the book, she went to the window near the door. Two military jeeps were parked outside. Asher stood beside one while two of his team members stood next to him. When he smacked them on the back, each jumped into a vehicle and drove away.

  He climbed the stairs and gave a wave. Oh sure, now he wants to be neighborly. She contemplated leaving him out there to stew, but her conscience got the best of her and she relented. Opening the door, she stood for a moment and ate him up, inch by glorious inch, with her gaze. For as much as she hated him, she couldn’t get enough of him, either.

  “Yes?” She crossed her arms, taking up a defensive pose. “What can I do for you?”

  “It’s time for your debriefing.” He closed them in and locked the door behind him. The snick of the deadbolt sliding home put her on edge. The already too small space shrank even more with his larger than life presence.

  “I thought we did that in Colombia.”

  “Some. I have more questions for you, and I thought since you were settled, now would be the perfect time to get down to business.” He took a seat at the small table near the kitchenette.

  “I’m still not getting a lawyer, am I?” She reluctantly sat across from him.

  “You haven’t done anything wrong, so I don’t understand why you believe you need one.”

  She rolled her tongue across the inside of her teeth. “Do we really have to go down this road again? Look where I am. Look at how I got here. You tell me, do I need a lawyer?”

  “Only if you’re the mastermind who is behind this.”

  “Yes, because I get off on death and destruction.” She snorted.

  “Then you don’t need an attorney.” He relaxed into the chair. “What I’d like to go over, since you’re calmer now and realize we’re not the enemy, is your statement.”

  “Fine.”

  “You still don’t believe me.”

  No. She didn’t. How could two people, one for and one against, wear the same uniform? What the hell did she miss during the attack? “You still haven’t explained your uniforms.”

  He sighed. “We are observers. We’re a group of men who go into situations where things aren’t adding up and find the problems. Then we take care of it. Only this time, we went into this situation blind.”

  She shook her head. “How can you ‘take care of me,’ if you don’t even know what you’ve been entrenched in?”

  “You’re as stubborn as a pack mule.” He chuckled.

  “So, now I’m a mule.” She nodded, even though he had a point. She wouldn’t go down without a fight.

  “We’re getting off track here, Dr. Rae.” If he thought using her title would placate her, he had another think coming.

  “As I see it,” she said with a lift of her chin, “we’ve never been on the right track. You show me all the fancy stuff to dazzle me and then what? Pounce? If you’re hoping to distract me, it won’t work.”

  He grunted. “Are you always this suspicious?”

  No. But the fact her clinic became ground zero for a mass genocide, well… “I can’t trust you.” Maybe.

  “Because you’re unwilling to listen to me.” He blew out an exasperated breath. “Until we get out of this stalemate, we can’t move forward, and I don’t know who to go after to make this right.”

  She tapped her foot impatiently while staring at the man who made her blood boil in anger and arousal. “Fine. What do you want to know?”

  “What do you remember happening? From the beginning.”

  She recounted the details of her day. From the moment she walked into the patient room to see Isabella, to the moment she heard the approaching vehicles. “It had been pandemonium afterwards. Between the gunfire and the screams, I got everyone to the safe room. When I turned, the man from your group had his long-gun pointed at me.” Thankfully, someone behind him—the guy, killed the asshole. She also held back seeing the man in the book. She needed a little more information from Asher first.

  “I realize tons of shit happened. Did you see anyone out of place, besides that particular pe
rson?”

  She shook her head. “No. I’ve been trying to recall everything. It’s hard.” She glanced down at her hands. So much innocent blood had been spilled, because why?

  “We have recon on the cocoa plants in a field not far from where the village is located. Do you have any idea why the guerillas would come to your town?”

  “Yeah.” She wiped a tear from her eye. Blasted emotions. She didn’t want to seem weak in front of a man she didn’t trust to be a good guy. “Sometimes, if someone is in the field, they come to town as a warning. A—a show of force.”

  “Are you aware of any payments the village makes to the guerilla faction?”

  She nodded. “I think it’s once a month. It’s for protection. All of us pay it to the mayor of Puerto Nariño.”

  “Does Doctors Without Borders know about this?”

  “I’ve only been in Colombia for six months, so I’m not sure.” Maria handled the transfer of money to the mayor. Rae tried not to be nosy. She learned while in Aleppo nosy could get you hurt or worse.

  “I’ll have one of my guys get into contact with your bosses in Bogotá and see what they are privy to, as well.” He sat forward in his chair, bracing his forearms on the table. “You’re safe here. I understand why you’re afraid. Why you don’t trust me. It comes with this kind of job. No matter how much I want to be the white knight and tell you everything will be fine, I can’t.”

  No one told him to be a white knight, as he said, all she needed was the truth. Who the hell were they, and how the hell did this happen? A door slammed outside then, a few seconds later, heavy footsteps stomped up the stairs.

  Asher turned in his seat. “Stay here,” he told her before standing. He crossed the space in three quick strides and glanced out the window. “What the hell?” He opened the door but made no attempt to step aside. “What is he doing here?”