“Of course I will,” I manage to say, avoiding Cage as I smile at my mom and dad in turn before Laney and I head for the door.
“We need to talk,” Cage calls. “Tomorrow.”
“Busy tomorrow,” I flippantly reply.
“Then, the day after.” His voice follows me as Laney and I make it to the front door.
“Busy then, too.”
When Laney giggles, I grin at her.
He doesn’t say anything in response, so I open the door and usher Laney ahead of me. Just as I’m about to shut it behind me, he gets in the last word. It sends a chill up my spine. “You’re my wife, Jaime.” There’s nothing but grit and determination in his voice. “And you cannot hide from me.”CHAPTER 25CageMonday morning starts the same way almost every week. We have a meeting in the large conference room to discuss upcoming projects, give updates on existing ones, and brainstorm ideas as needed.
My head isn’t necessarily into it, but I attempt to pay attention. Granted, my mind keeps wandering to my wayward wife, who refuses to give me the time of day. I had hoped dinner at her parents’ last night would go better than it did. I’m forever appreciative of their invite, both making it clear they are firmly in my corner. That doesn’t mean they don’t love Jaime with all their hearts and want what’s best for her.
It’s just that they’ve decided I’m what’s best for her.
Now I just need to convince her of that, but when I might have the chance, I have no clue. As she left her parents’ home last night, I reminded her that we had to talk. She put me off, and it was clear I was going to have to get creative to get her focused attention.
There’s a nudge to my arm from my left, and I swing my attention Jackson’s way. Leaning in, he whispers, “Am I the only one who doesn’t understand half of what Dozer and Bebe say?”
I snicker, cutting my gaze to them. They’re standing at the end of the room in front of a SmartBoard, rambling on about a new communication technology they are working on that will enable comms without a satellite signal. I had tuned out a bit when they said it was still a few years away from production, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think their work is important. Bebe is probably the best hacker in the world, and Dozer is a NASA scientist genius. Together, they’ve probably been the biggest deciding factor on whether our missions succeed or not.
Bebe and Dozer finish their presentation. Kynan gives an update on our most recent mission down to Colombia, reporting the rescued family has settled back into their homes and the children are in therapy. It may seem stupid to give us that follow-up information, but it actually helps in validating the importance of our work. These are real people we are saving from real horrors.
Kynan stands from his seat at the head of the large conference room table, a smart tablet in his hand with a stylus in the other. He used to do these meetings with an old-fashioned clipboard and paper, but it offended Dozer, who insisted he get with the technological times.
Kynan starts to go over the week’s assignments. “Malik, I want to put together a tactical seminar for the Vegas office focused on evasion techniques. I’d like to be able to do that in the next few months, so maybe you and I sit down this week and brainstorm ideas.”
“Got it,” Malik replies, leaning back in his chair. He swivels to look at Anna, who sits next to him. She’s busy typing notes on her laptop, recording every word of the meeting. She doesn’t notice him staring at her, but I can’t help but smile at the all-out love and devotion in his expression. Anna and Malik have been through their share of horrific struggles this past year, but they’ve both been healed through the power of love.
That was a notion I’d found slightly comical not but a handful of weeks ago.
Before I met Jaime.
Kynan hands out more assignments. He’s sending Cruce to meet with some high-up at the defense department to discuss future contracts, and Saint and Jackson are spearheading security for an upcoming visit from a foreign ambassador next month.
“Jackson,” Kynan announces, his gaze roving over his tablet. When he looks up, he says, “We’ve been contacted by the government of Bretaria. They are sending an emissary to the U.S. to do a tour.”
“Bretaria?” Jackson asks, frowning. He raises an eyebrow at me, but I shrug. “Where the hell is that?”
“It’s a moderately sized and incredibly wealthy island that sits off the Australian coast. It’s ruled by a monarch, and it boasts one of the world’s largest ruby mines. Our government is extending a hospitable welcome, but, frankly, the country has no trade relations and nothing of value to us. They’re not going to provide security. Instead, they have contracted us to handle it.”