Way of the Warrior (Troubleshooters #17.5)(51)
His face was blank. His eyes, filled with cold temerity moments earlier, shut down flat. He slouched in the chair now, leaning back negligently. But Vivi had the upper hand here. He couldn’t bluff her because she knew the truth and she knew he wanted that truth. Badly.
“Leave,” he said again. Oh, the look on his face was calm, bored even, but his voice was horrible. Yet the deep baritone moved her, settling her nerves.
He was a strong man. An honorable man. He’d been done wrong. And Vivi had made a promise to her brother. Rook Granger would not prevent her from keeping it.
She shook her head, crossed her legs, and stared at him, waiting for the next phase of his denial to begin. He stood so abruptly the chair skated backward, hitting the wall behind him with a banging screech of metal. The guard behind the glass to their left stood up as well, walking around to the door to unlock it and get her out of there. She held up a hand and thanked her lucky stars Brigadier General Johansen had seen fit to help her, greasing the wheels for this venture so everything went smoothly. The guard stopped and returned to his seat.
Vivi remained seated, though now she looked up to where he stood, arms stretched to his side by the metal chains bolted to the floor. “You don’t scare me, Sergeant.”
“I should f*cking terrify you.”
She ignored him, keeping her voice even but low, almost a whisper. “You are going to walk out of here with me, and we are going to do whatever must be done to get to the truth. I made a promise. I have called in favors owed to me by men in some of the highest positions of our government. If you do not go with me, my life is forfeit. My inquiries have no doubt met the ears of the very people responsible for your incarceration—the ones responsible for the death of your Delta Force unit and my brother. In an effort to hide their very ugly truth, they will eliminate whomever they need to. Neither my position in the CIA, nor the people indebted to me, will be able to stop the bad guys. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
He said nothing, maintaining that stony silence.
The door to the visitation cell opened. “It is time, Ms. Bentwood,” the new guard said.
She stood to her feet, keeping her gaze on Rook, daring him to naysay her. The guard walked over to stand next to Rook. He was an average-sized man and the difference between him and Rook was startling.
The war truly began in that next moment. The first skirmish was one Rook had with himself, and it showed in small ways. The tensing of his jaw, the muscles there bunching and relaxing. His narrowed gaze and flaring nostrils. He was a wild thing, and Vivi irrationally wanted to soothe him.
She smiled once more, aware it may be her last for a while. Michael had told her Rook Granger was a mean son of a bitch when riled. But he hadn’t met Vivi. She was the most stubborn woman in the world. Badass Delta Force commander or not, she could take his mean and counter it a million different ways, tipping the scales in her favor.
The first guard, the one with the touchy-feely hands, glared at her through the doors. He was her biggest obstacle at the moment, but not for long. Her thumb pressed the screen and within moments the lights of the holding wing of the prison began to flicker.
Vivi trained her gaze on Rook.
“What the hell are you doing?” Rook asked in disbelief.
Long seconds passed, and she arched a single brow. He bit off a curse but raised his arms. The guard unlocked his shackles and stepped back as the lights went out completely. As soon as the lights extinguished, every guard with the exception of the one in the room with them scattered to assure the prison remained locked down.
“This way,” the guard said and moved for the door, placing a key in the lock and opening the cell.
The backup generator kicked in, the lights flickered back on, and Rook Granger was in her face before she took a breath. “I don’t know you. I don’t know why you’re here. But if this is some kind of trick, it won’t matter that you’re Michael’s sister. I’ll snap your skinny neck and keep moving.”
His heat wrapped around her, and she wanted to sink into him, let that warmth chase away the chill his gaze had spread.
“You would have to catch me first, Sergeant. I feel it only fair to tell you that I’m pretty fast,” she murmured.
“You think because I’ve got a prosthetic I can’t catch you?”
She wouldn’t even dignify that with an answer.
“Ms. Bentwood,” the guard urged.
Vivi turned away from Rook, away from that sensual, mocking curve of his lips and that bitterly cold ebony gaze. His hands landed on her shoulders, preventing movement but not painful. A shiver worked through her.
Even as she recognized he was affecting her, Vivi pressed one more button on her phone. The entire holding wing of the prison went dark once more. Security protocols were overridden, and the backup generator was disabled. Vivi had hacked the prison’s system, infiltrating it two weeks ago with an ease that made her stomach cramp. She’d established a program that allowed her to remotely manipulate the lights, cameras, and security grid for this wing with her smartphone. The doors to the cells would remain locked unless a key was inserted to override. She’d shut the entire wing of a federal maximum security prison down with the touch of a button.
Rook leaned against her back, lowering his mouth to her ear. He inhaled deeply, the air he moved with that breath slithering against her skin, heating her in ways she’d never been heated. “Michael told me about you. How much he loved you, how he helped raise you when your parents died.”