Seek and Destroy (23 page)

    "No you don't."

    "I don't know how close, and I don't know if she ever ID'd him or vice versa."

    Okay, so maybe Weber did know what he was going to ask.

    "I just know she had him in her sites, that she had him convinced to turn himself in." Weber threw out a chuckle. "That lady has the ability to talk a hooker into attending church. Apparently she has very good negotiating tactics. I mean, look how easily she got you to come back. She must have found a way to get to you."

    He felt the sucker punch to the gut. His entire world felt a little darker, a little harder. The wall around his heart went back up in a flash, thicker, more protective than before. "I guess she's good," he stated bitterly, looking away.

    "Not just good," Weber corrected. "I've read her file. She's the best. Her success ratio is through the roof. She can talk the talk in any situation."

    He understood why. She had him fooled into thinking they were a spontaneous one-night stand. Holy Jesus. Negotiating? That's what they were doing all night? He'd been nothing more to her than another job. Jesus, how many others had she
negotiated
with? And how many others had fallen for her innocent, I'll-be-demoted act, batting her beautiful baby-blues at them? The bitterness enveloped his senses. "Apparently."

    "What's the matter?"

    "Nothing," he grunted.

    "Then focus on the threat and not your bruised ego."

    David shot him a look. Weber didn't back down, instead he held his glare with one of his own. He continued, "So you were played. So what? It sucks, I should know. McKoy did what she had to do. Get over it."

    He really hated Weber right now, but deep down knew he was right. He'd lick his wounds later. The real issue as to why Weber called him back slapped him across the face. If Surreal publicized David as an assassin for NASSD, not only would every terrorist faction come after him, every agent he'd ever been on assignment with would be on the hit list. If NASSD didn't find and remove the threat, it could potentially expose the entire agency. Careless agents disappear after exposure, sometimes by their own choosing, other times by force.

    And he sat here pissed at Charis for doing her job? Ah, man. His priorities were so far off the scale.

    He should be more concerned with the resurface of Surreal, added to the fact he could ID David as a hitter for NASSD, and he was in a shitload of trouble.

    David's existence linked other agents to the hit list, Weber and his wife included. They had to plug the hole.

    Or remove the link.

    He threw Weber a look as a deep foreboding crept into his bones. Who better to remove the link than one of the directors? Leave out the fact Weber was David's friend. His
best
friend. The acid hit the back of his throat, the pinch of betrayal hitting him like another sucker punch to the gut.

    Jesus. How many more could he take?

    The greater question... Did Weber really call him back to take him out?

    Fight or flight. Fight or flight. He tensed. His shoulder started to ache as the blood in his veins picked up speed. He steadied his breathing and recalled his scan of the room from his memory bank. Some of the little trinkets could be used as weapons. No doubt Weber had his sidearm on him. It took long enough to break in to NASSD's HQ. He didn't have time to pick up a gun. He didn't think he'd need it.

    Until now.

    No wonder they were in room three. And no wonder Weber seemed more concerned about the cameras than how he broke into the building. His gut knotted. If he tried to make a break for it, Weber would have him down in a matter of seconds. The man had a lethal chokehold. Of course, David could hold his own against Weber, but it sickened him to think he'd be forced to.

    "I suppose I should be honored," he snapped bitterly.

    Weber's eyes narrowed. "Grateful, at least."

    Unbelievable. The man actually expected his gratitude? The proverbial cold day in Hell came to mind. He cussed and closed his eyes as he shook his head. Leave it to Weber to know David's weakness and play to it.

    Fuck. What a cheap shot. He'd bet his good shoulder Charis had no idea how they'd played her on this. She actually thought she'd succeeded in pulling him back into the ranks at NASSD, when in fact she'd only lured him to what just might be his death. Holy shit, was she going to be pissed when she found out.

    His anxiety intensified. Here he sat across the table from a man who very well may kill him before the day ended, and his concern rested on her reaction? Oh, man. He was in more trouble than he thought.

    "Fine. I'm grateful you called me all the way back to the mainland so you could take me out personally. Thank you."

    "You've got to be kidding me," Weber muttered. "Do you honestly think I would bring you back here if I wanted you dead? Hell, I could have sent a hit if I wanted that. Besides, you are one of the best out there, not to mention my closest friend. I'm the first in line to take out the bastard who shot you. I've expended endless resources looking for him. When NASSD finds him, the agents have strict orders to hold him until I get there. I plan to kill him with my bare hands-payback for what he did to you. I won't stop until I find him."

    David watched him. The look Weber shot him felt like another sucker punch. The man didn't need to say how his assumption hit him. The lack of faith bothered him.

    After shaking his head, Weber muttered another round of crisp curses. "Jesus Christ, Snyder. Give me some credit. Why would you even go there? We've been through too much together. You had my back in Colombia and saved my life in Sri Lanka. I'm not Donovan. I would never, ever sell out one of my own. Got it?"

    He swallowed, feeling like shit for jumping to the wrong conclusion. Donovan, the last director, did sell out his own, Dan Weber included. If it weren't for them working together in Colombia, neither would have made it out of the jungle alive.

    His suspicions still spun on overdrive, although the blood in his veins slowed a bit. Knowing Weber didn't call him back to take him out should make him feel better. So why then did he still feel the need to fight or flight?

    His shoulder throbbed and he shrugged to stretch it out.

    Weber pinched the skin between his eyes. "Being out of the field has tainted you. Trust is key. You know that. All NASSD agents know that. So if you can put your paranoia on the next plane back to Maui, I'd like to actually talk to you about this assignment, since you will be taking point."

    David folded his hands in front of him and leaned back in his chair. It squawked in protest, the noise echoing throughout the small interrogation room. "So I'm back? And I get my position as lead back as well?"

    "Abso-fucking-lutely."

    The tension preventing him from taking a full breath lifted and he inhaled deeply. "Where do I sign?"

    Weber grinned. "Welcome back, Agent Snyder."

    

    

    Charis sprang to her feet as soon as she spotted David step out of the room. Special Director Weber didn't follow, and for that she was grateful. She did not like that man, and for the most part she felt he shared the same feelings toward her. Besides, for what she had to say to David Snyder, she'd rather have him all to herself.

    How could he simply dismiss her like that? She knew they agreed their moment ended as soon as they left the island, but have a heart. He didn't need to pretend it never happened. She didn't even exist in there today. Adjusting her glasses, determination settling into her veins, she moved out.

    Her strides were no match to his, and she had to almost jog to catch up to him. She ran on her toes so not to let her heels click against the linoleum. Finally he slowed, but did not turn around. She'd almost caught up to him when he suddenly whipped around and had her in a chokehold, her back pressed firmly against his front, one hand strategically placed under her chin. One quick snap and he'd break her neck. The thought sent an involuntary shudder through her body.

    "David! It's me!"

    "Jesus Christ, Charis!" She felt his breath hot and wet against her neck, which made her shudder for an entirely different reason. He loosened his hold on her, but still kept her close. "Don't ever sneak up on me like that."

    The anger she felt earlier toward him escaladed into a raging fury. They were inside HQ. He knew the elaborate extremes it took to gain access. Why the paranoia? It wasn't like some terrorist snuck in and chased him down the hall. In heels no less. The building was supposed to be impenetrable. Of course,
he'd
found a way.

    "Give me a break, David."

    "I almost did." With that, he let her go.

    She rubbed her neck and chin. Ouch. "That hurt."

    "That's the idea," he answered dryly. "Come on, we have somewhere to be."

    Together? "Where are we going?"

    He grabbed her arm and dragged her down the long corridor over to the elevator. Remembering what happened the last time they shared an elevator together brought so much warmth to her body she felt little beads of sweat sprout on her upper lip. The memory of the taste of his lips on hers made her arousal awaken, the wetness soaking the thin fabric of her panties. Her nipples started to pucker and peak.

    And damn did she wear the wrong outfit for that. Her cream-colored silk shirt displayed the hardened buds of her nipples quite nicely. A little water added to the outfit and she'd take first place in the wet t-shirt contest for sure. Aside from her matching skirt, her damp panties were the only thing between her and paradise.

    He gave her a quick once over, resting his eyes on her obvious arousal, causing them to harden to the point of painful. She whimpered against the feeling of them brushing against the lace of her bra. Even the cardigan sweater she wore didn't do anything to mask her body's response.

    Thank God he didn't say anything.

    "Let me ask you a question."

    Just not about last night. "Sure."

    "What happened last night?"

    Crap. Her nipples puckered further and sent a shiver shimmying up her spine. Her panties absorbed the moisture. For now. Think of something else. Think of...of... She stole a glance at his powerful hands. Those hands were magic, their owner gifted in knowing how to use them. "Hmmm. Last night," she purred, the intoxication of the memory causing her inner folds to swell and soften.

    How did he do that to her? She was Charis McKoy. The oldest of all the McKoy's. The safe one, the boring one. She wasn't the type to have a one-night stand and then damn near
think
herself into an orgasm. But when it came to this man, she felt brazen and bold. She wanted him like she'd never wanted another man. Some primal urge took over when it came to David Snyder. One she couldn't, and didn't want to, deny.

    "What happened with you? Last night you were," he laughed gruffly. "I mean, you were-wow. But that wasn't you, was it?
This
is you."

    Ouch. He said it in such a disappointing tone. The way his comment dug into her core made her response to him cool. His jaw hardened, obviously pissed about something.

    What did she do to warrant a reaction like this? Shouldn't it be the other way around? She had every right to be upset at him. Her nose tingled at the threat of her emotions showing. Straightening her posture, she adjusted her glasses on her nose and pinched her lips together.

    He was right, of course. They'd shared last night as a one-time thing. An itch she needed to scratch.
This
was the Charis McKoy she knew. As the oldest child, she had to demonstrate the epitome of propriety. Don't talk back to your parents. Eat all your vegetables.

    Don't have sex with strangers.

    
But that wasn't you.
This
is you.
Those words rang in her ears, louder and louder until something snapped. The dam broke and everything she'd been keeping locked up deep inside flooded to be free.

    She didn't want to be
this
Charis McKoy anymore. She loved the feeling of being
that
Charis McKoy. Not that she wanted to make a habit of sleeping with strangers. But she certainly didn't want her sensibility getting in the way if she ever decided to take that leap. Again.

    At twenty-eight, she should have some say in her life. Her mom chose her clothes for her, even back in college. Her father chose her classes, and then her career. Her brothers even chose the men she dated.

    Charis wanted to live Charis' life.

    But then her senses started to rebuild the mold inside her brain. She'd be in uncharted territory. Did she want to break out of her comfort zone? It was all she knew, all she ever thought she wanted. Her brother Chris even had someone in mind for her to go out with when she returned home.

    Should she throw away everything she'd worked so hard to achieve all because she had one fantastic night of hot sex with a NASSD agent? Maybe she would be better off sticking with what she knew. She sighed and inwardly cursed what fate had in store for her.

    She didn't like it. Hated it, to be exact. Boring and uneventful Charis McKoy. The reliable McKoy. The
good
daughter. She swallowed down the rawness as it started to close her throat. Her eyes smarted, her nose tingled.

    Life sucked sometimes. And fate really sucked. A deep sigh escaped her lips.

    "Quit pouting." His command broke her of her thoughts. He gave her a sideways glance. "I'm back. You got your way."

    
I don't think so.
"I'm not pouting."

    "This is you not pouting? 'Cuz you suck at it."