Missing Lynx (13 page)

Eleven

I
slid behind the giant framework of an obese man as he waddled out of the stairwell. Skimming seamlessly along the wall, using people and objects to obscure me, I shadow walked, scanning up the corridor for any obvious operative-eyes. I stole my way down the few doors to what I hoped was still Spyder’s assigned room. Opening Spyder’s door would change the lights; a camera would definitely pick up the contrast. If they were doing remote surveillance, this was my most vulnerable point. Iniquus didn’t tell me what precautions they had taken to protect Spyder. I was winging it.

I stretched out my fingers to turn Spyder’s door knob when two hands caught my shirt, yanking me back, and then releasing me so I bounced against the green tiled wall. I spun my head with a startled gasp. Striker.

“You aren’t following orders.” He trapped my wrists by my side.

Even though he was obviously furious, my breath rushed out in relief. “You saw me? And hid behind the towel cart?” He was unbelievable.

“Shadow walking is like a magic trick – once you’ve seen how it works, it’s not hard to catch you in the act. What the hell are you doing here?” he growled. He
actually
growled at me.

When I tried to shake off his grip, he stretched my wrists down and moved my hands a few inches behind my back. I didn’t know if he was he trying to hide his clasp from the people strolling in the hallway, or if he was making sure I had no leverage. This seemed somewhat playful — and yet…

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Let me go this minute.”

“Lexi, what in the hell are you doing here? You’re risking your job and now mine, not to mention Spyderman’s damned safety.”

Shit. He’s right – I’m risking all of us.
“I have to talk to Spyder. This has nothing to do with Sylanos or Iniquus. I need his help. I’m in danger.” I twisted my wrists slightly to position them for a release. “Let. Me. Go.”

Striker shifted my arms farther behind my back and pushed a knee between my legs, leaning into the wall. I was effectively trussed. Striker slowly shook his head “no”.

“I can get out of this. You can’t stop me.” I wiggled against him, testing his hold. Why was I behaving this way? I should just explain. Striker was reasonable. He’d look the other way. But being in his grasp this way, set something off in my brain I didn’t recognize.

“Chica. We can go hand-to-hand right here in hospital corridor. Then security will come, we’ll both get kicked out, and Spyder will be left vulnerable.”

There was a glint of something feral in Striker’s eyes, inflating the sensations burning through me. I wanted. . .This was wrong
. Head in the game. Stop it. Stop it now, Lexi.
While my head might be playing one game, my body seemed to be playing by a different set of rules. And it was winning out. I couldn’t seem to pry my attention north of Striker’s belt. “That would only happen if you didn’t let me go – or if you tattled.” I had to get him off me.

The steely muscles of his leg flexed between my inner thighs.

“I’ll scream.” I tried on for size, but it came out husky and low pitched with zero conviction.

Striker’s attention moved to my lips. “You could try,” he said not shifting his gaze. Definitely a challenge.

I took in a deep breath and opened my mouth. I didn’t really mean to scream. But a shriek danced up my throat. Before the sound hit air, Striker’s lips sealed mine in an open mouthed kiss– a kiss very different from the tender one under the mistletoe. This kiss was jarring — slamming into me like a locomotive. It was its own emotional thunderstorm. And all I wanted in that moment was for him to keep kissing me. Spyder, Sylanos, and the creepy neighbor two-doors-down be damned.

I heard a wolf whistle followed by a “Get a room!”

Striker pulled away. His eyes were dilated to black. The vein on the side of his neck pulsed. I was dizzy and welcomed his constraining stance. It kept me from sliding down the wall.

Striker whispered in my ear, “You scream here, and I’ll slap handcuffs on and put you under arrest.”

“On what charges?” Handcuffs. Did I just bat my eyes at him?

He stalled. Then slowly shook his head “no” again. Leaning down he whispered into my ear. “Idiocy.”

I swayed; yeah, I’d say that summed this whole thing up.

With his hand still on my right wrist, Striker yanked me toward the stairwell, forcing me to run after him on wobbly legs.

When we were safely alone he turned on me. “What do you mean you’re in danger? Why didn’t you tell me immediately?” he demanded holding my arm up in front of me.

All I could do was stare at him. I was having trouble shifting gears. No words were forming in my brain.

He dropped my arm and gave my shoulders a shake. “What kind of danger?”

Something hummed just under his skin. Anger? Concern? I rubbed my bruised lips. “Because…” I stammered.

“Because what?”

“I’m not used to you.” I took a step back from him. “I’m used to puzzling things out for myself.”

“Lexi, I’m in love with you. I
want
to protect you. That’s the role I’m supposed to be playing.”

“I wasn’t clear that we’d established a role for you in my life.” I glared at him.

He scrutinized me, then his eyes hardened. “I’m Team Command of Strike Force. So if you need a clear position title, there it is.” He still had me by the shoulders, and he gave me another shake.

“You know what I mean.” My voice turned quiet with a dash of defeated.

Striker leaned down and touched his forehead to mine. “I know what you mean. Let’s do one thing at a time. Why are you going to Spyder and not me.”

“You don’t have the answers I need. Spyder does. I was afraid if I went through Command they would stop me before I could figure out what’s going on.”

Striker nodded. “You’re right. You are absolutely barred until Spyderman’s back at HQ. You don’t have time to explain this to me now. I’m in charge of Spyder, but I only have fifteen minutes left on my watch. They’ll have my relief coming in…you’re going to have to make this fast.”

Striker’s the watchdog? That explained his oversized T-shirt and 501s. Holy shit this must be serious if they’re using Commanders as surveillance. Why didn’t he tell me? Then I realized I wasn’t exactly forthcoming with Striker either. Trust. Right? I’d lay my life down for him, just as he would for me. But the emotional stuff seemed so damned daunting.

Striker opened the door and scanned the hallway. Empty. “Quick,” he ordered, pushing me behind him, using his body to shield mine. I scuttled up the hall, and we burst through Spyder’s door.

“Spyder, I hope what I’m about to ask you isn’t going to be stressful, but something happened today, and I need to know what to do.” I dragged a chair over to his bed and sat so we were eye-to-eye.

“Yes, Lexicon, what happened?” Spyder’s voice was deeply resonant with an unusual accent. Even though Spyder was an American citizen, born in New York City, Spyder grew up somewhere else. I’ve asked him repeatedly where he learned his English, and he’d smiled his response. His accent was beautiful and rich and had a gentle formality about it. It made me think of a yoga bow - and the word
namaste
.

I reached out to smooth the blanket on his hospital bed. “I got a new neighbor. I have a bad, bad feeling about this new neighbor. I had a ‘knowing.’”

“What did you hear?” Spyder asked.

I bit my lip not wanting to repeat the words out loud — making them whole and tangible instead of a pulse in my veins. Spyder gave me a stern look.

“
Danger is moving in.”
I managed.

Spyder stilled. Oh dear. Was this too much for him? Maybe I shouldn’t have come.

“You have met this neighbor?” he asked.

Striker stood glaring at me from the end of Spyder’s bed. I swallowed past the lump in my throat and refocused on Spyder. “No, sir. Not met. I saw her…and recognized her.”

Spyder nodded slightly; I should continue. I worked my thumb into my palm. I took a deep breath in and met Spyder’s gaze. “I never saw her in person before now. I remember her from a photo at Mrs. Agnew’s.”

“The couples honeymooning at the beach?” Spyder’s hushed tone brushed the air.

“Yes, I believe so, two couples at the beach with trees in the background. My new neighbor is a Latina with black hair and deeply tanned olive skin. She’s gained weight since the picture, especially around her waist, and her hair is short now. But I’m pretty sure I’m right.”

“Maria Castillo,” Spyder said under his breath before refocusing on me. “This is not good news.” Spyder’s eyes searched over the wall as he thought. “I’m afraid I cannot tell you much about my connection to Mrs. Agnew except that Agnew is not her real name - she was under my protection until she decided she would be safer outside of the United States. There is nothing more I can reveal at this juncture. You will treat this neighbor as an enemy.”

The leopard in my head screamed as if burnt and slid under the bush to rumble her displeasure. A shiver racked my body.

Spyder stopped and studied me for a moment. “Listen to me closely. I came back to Washington because I needed you and Striker to help me with an assignment. We are to incapacitate a dangerous beast with many arms reaching in many directions. This is a case I have been working on for over a decade; one where you have already worked through several of the puzzles, Lexicon.

“It is remarkable that this woman comes to your neighborhood now. She has been but a barnacle on one of the monster’s tentacles, yet she may prove dangerous to you, or me, or our mission. I can’t imagine she could know of your capabilities. I presume they lost track of me over this last year and have sent her in to befriend you. I believe you might be in direct danger, and yet I am torn…”

While Spyder weighed options, Striker took a surreptitious glance at his watch. His lips tightened, and I knew our time was coming quickly to a close.

Spyder nodded his head. “Perhaps it is best for you to remain where you are so that you can watch her. An enemy is always more dangerous when masked. Keep an eye on your house and your vehicle — make sure no monitoring devices are planted. Striker, would you please do a sweep of Lexi’s house and car?”

“Yes, sir, I’ll call it in.” Striker nodded but didn’t make a move to leave. “I’ll need to brief Command.”

“Absolutely, they need to know about this new twist. Every precaution will be used to keep Lexi safe.” The last words were barely audible. Spyder panted before continuing. “Lexicon, you will be careful not to let this woman know you have identified her. You will not spend time with her alone. Your conversations will always be brief and non-consequential. You will not speak with her in Spanish - guard your tongue; she is not to know you are bilingual. At some point, you may have the need for a safe house — if you believe she is pressing too hard.”

“What will that look like, sir? How will I know?” I asked.
Pressing too hard?
Right now it seemed as if she had perched on my chest not allowing me any air. How much more “pressing too hard” could I take?

“You will trust your inner knowing, and you will act accordingly.” Spyder smiled, though the smile didn’t touch his eyes.

My inner knowing said run for the hills, do not pass go, do not collect two-hundred dollars, just run. Run now. “Yes, sir. Striker gave me a key to his place in the barracks.”

Spyder shifted his focus to Striker. They stared hard into each other’s eyes; the alpha dogs in silent communication. I felt mildly left-out. What was that all about?

After a minute, Spyder gave him a nod. “Thank you,” he told Striker warmly. Their years of working together in the worst possible conditions made actually speech irrelevant, and I was jealous of their connection.

“I will need to be moved to a different hospital where I can be secured.” Spyder continued. “Too much is at stake to allow them to take me out now. Obviously, I am in a vulnerable state. Striker, you will have Iniquus arrange this. Lexicon, with all of my heart, I am sorry to tell you that, once again, I will not be able to be in contact with you. It might endanger both of our lives, as well as many others. A mission would be at risk.”

“I’m sorry, sir. Time is up. Lexi has to leave. Now.” Striker commanded.

I jerked my focus over to him, startled. I needed more time. I wasn’t ready to go. Pain filled my heart as I pushed reluctantly up from my seat. “I love you, Spyder. Please get better soon.” I leaned down and gave him a kiss on the cheek, and I left.

Striker followed me out and told me to sit tight in Mrs. Nelson’s room. I did as I was told, apprehensive about how this was all going to play out with Command – my disobeying direct orders…Striker facilitating my meeting with Spyder…Spyder’s revelations…how would I keep my extra-sensory crap a secret from them? Right now the only ones at Iniquus who knew about this were Spyder, Striker, and Jack.

When Striker came to collect me, he didn’t speak — not a single word. He made me swap cars with him, and he followed me back to my house.

A Hummer sat out front of my duplex, and we pulled in behind. Striker came over, opened the door and jumped me down. We found Blaze and Gater inside, crouched on the floor playing with scanning equipment.

“Hey, Lynx.” Blaze glanced up from his monitor. “It looks like your kitchen exploded.” Blaze was usually soft spoken, thoughtful, with bursts of bravado. He kept his bright auburn hair, shot with copper highlights, in a short military style, but it still tried to curl rebelliously. I thought that his coloring gave him the call name Blaze; it turns out his name came from his motto: “If I’m going out, it’s going to be in a blaze of glory!”

“Manny’s food. Shoot, Blaze. I completely forgot about my project.” I ran back into the kitchen and grabbed an apron.

Blaze nodded, standing at the kitchen door frame, taking in the mess. His eyes were startlingly blue, like a clear October sky.

“I’m bagging up prepared dinners. They’re my barter with Manny.” I said by way of explanation. “Did you find anything?” I asked.