Operation Zulu Redemption: Collateral Damage - Part 1 by Ronie Kendig

Author:Ronie Kendig [Kendig, Ronie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Barbour Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2014-07-18T00:00:00+00:00

Annie

Lucketts, Virginia

11 May – 1820 Hours

“What is that?” Annie’s heart beat in cadence with a war march. She saw it—a reporter talking with Sam. And he looked ticked. Handsome, but ticked.

“Annie, did you need something?” Trace asked, standing with his hands on his belt. So like when he wore ACUs and a tac belt. Except he had the addition of a bandage on his left forearm and hand.

Anger stirred within the second she realized he would try to hide it. Try to dismiss it. “What was that, Trace? And don’t tell me ‘nothing.’ I saw you two.” She glanced at Boone, who kept his head down as he sat in a chair, forearms on his knees. “Neither of you looked happy. And right now, neither am I. Tell me what it was.”

Braced for a standoff, Annie held her ground. Trace’s green eyes held hers. She saw a lot there, a lot more than most people would see.

His anger—but there was a lot of that since they’d been hit. His dislike—she’d talked to him as an equal, not as her superior. Truth of it was, she wasn’t sure where she stood on the organization chart considering she’d been Ashland Palmieri, not Lieutenant Annie Palermo, for the last five years. His frustration—things were clearly out of control and there didn’t seem to be any tendrils to grab onto to bring this mess back into something manageable. But there was something else there, something she couldn’t sort.

Annie stepped into the room, letting the door close behind her. She folded her arms. “What is that? Was it a video?”

Trace slid his gaze to Boone, then gave a curt nod. “Sam’s doing interviews.”

Annie blinked. “Interviews? About what?”

“You.” Image of calm, cool collection, Trace leaned back against the table, the laptop behind him. When they’d first met, he terrified her because she could never read him. Experience taught her how to read him. “He’s stirring up trouble about your disappearance.”

Sam. . .stirring up trouble. “That shouldn’t surprise me.”

“But it should concern you.” Trace gave her that look, the one that knotted the line between his eyebrows. “If he keeps this up. . .”

Outrage spiked through her. What? What was Trace going to say? “Then what?”

“He’s putting your life in danger, Annie. Téya and Nuala’s, too,” he said, nodding beyond the room to where Téya and Nuala stood watching them. “All of us. If he digs, if he shouts loud enough, someone’s going to listen. You’ll never be safe from the assassin’s bullet.”

“We’ll never be safe as long as we don’t know who we’re running from,” Annie shot back.

Lips tightened, Trace just watched her.

That’s when it hit her. “Is Sam in danger?”

Trace still didn’t answer. Didn’t respond. Just stared.

“It’s not an unrealistic question, Trace. You saw what happened to Téya’s boyfriend and grandmother. What if something like that happens to Sam or to Jeff.”

Boone raised his head. “Jeff?”

“The Green Dot’s owner. A good friend—he’s a good man, Trace. They both are, and I’m not going to—”

“You’re not going to what, Annie?” Trace’s expression darkened.

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