Way of the Warrior (Troubleshooters #17.5)(58)

Endgame.

“Here are the directions,” Vivi said in a voice that sang with weariness.

He wanted to leave her here. Take up this campaign on his own, but he knew she’d follow and cause problems. “I know how to get there.”

She nodded. “I thought so. Seems like you know everything.”

He ignored her jab. “Get some rest. I’ll pull up, do some scouting and come back for you before we meet up with him.”

She yawned, and before he could say another word, she was out.

So many unknowns in this game. So many entities vying for the ultimate prize of power. The waters were murky, and while Rook had struggled to maintain a position on the fence, he was being forced to align with a side.

He just hoped he picked the right one.





CHAPTER 5


A knock on the window pulled Vivi from sleep. It was a rough slide that ended with her heart in her throat. She snorted. Some CIA operative she was. Rook’s face was highlighted by the moon as it peeked from behind a cloud, but Vivi noticed the snow continued to fall softly. She opened the door and got out.

“Shit, it’s cold,” she muttered.

He grunted.

“Hey, that grunting thing you do? Yeah, it really gets on my nerves.”

He laughed. “Not a morning person?”

“It’s the middle of the night, so I guess not,” she bit out acerbically.

“Look at me,” he demanded.

She did but just couldn’t muster the energy to get mad at herself for obeying. “Yeah?”

“Now’s the time to cut bait and run, Vivi.”

She shook her head. “I made a—”

He held up a hand. “I know, I know. You promised Michael. But the truth is ugly, Olivia, and I’d rather not expose you to it.”

“Not your decision to make. I pulled this meet for you. He’s expecting both of us,” she reasoned.

“No, he isn’t. He’s expecting me.” He rubbed his chest. “Michael was a good man. You’ve done what his crazy ass asked. I don’t want you involved in this,” he said in a hard voice.

How had this man managed to weasel under her skin so quickly? What was it about him that made her want to throw away everything she’d worked for to save him?

She cocked her head, remembering her brother’s words, his plea. “My brother told me how you pulled him from the hut when the bullets started flying. You gave him your weapon, propped him against the outer wall of the compound your unit was scouting, and went back in for more men. He said he remembered seeing you flying out of the front door of that hut in Mogadishu, the world exploding around you. He remembered every bite of the shrapnel entering his body. He remembered you reaching him, finding his comm device and calling for help. He remembered the blood pouring from your head and your cries into his device for extraction.”

Vivi paused, her brother’s words ringing in her ears. She breathed in and smelled the antiseptic—that unmistakable hospital scent that never quite left you. “You saved him, and even though he died from his wounds, you gave him enough time for me to say good-bye.”

Her eyes blurred, but she met his gaze, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Do you have any idea what that meant to me? My brother was my world. He was all I had, and he knew I’d need something to keep me going. So he gave me you. He was the most honorable man I’ve ever known. The strongest man I’ve ever known. And I will see this through so that you live free because my brother couldn’t.”

He shook his head, reaching over and once again whisking away her tears. “Michael wouldn’t want you to give your life for me. I’m not worth that, Vivi.”

Her heart was back in her throat. “You are worth that. My brother believed it, and after everything I’ve learned about you, so do I.”

“When I see General Arbor, it will be over. If he’s not who you seem to think he is, he’ll report that he’s seen me. From that point on, your name will be locked with mine—”

“I’ve got this. I wear big-girl thongs and everything,” she said with a smile.

He grunted. She lowered her brows. He laughed. She sighed.

He finally relented. “Let’s go. You sure those scrawny legs can handle this terrain?”

She crossed her arms over her chest and cocked a hip. “Scrawny legs? Your mama’s got scrawny legs, Beret Boy.”

Those delightful lips of his tugged upward. “I don’t wear berets, baby.”

She shrugged. “I’m a cyber spy. I don’t really pay too much attention to what badass spec-ops boys wear. Also? I’ve got this. And contrary to your belief, Arbor is expecting me.”

He shook his head. “You’re armed?”

She raised a brow and rolled her eyes. “To the gills.”

“I found your stash,” he told her.

“Wasn’t hard considering I left it on the backseat in plain view.”

“For the record, I really don’t want you going in here.”

She nodded. “Yeah, I noticed. For the record? I’m going.”

He rolled his shoulders and looked up at the dark sky. Snow fell on his face, dotting his lashes, and she wanted to lick that snow, kiss his brow, hold him in her arms and tell him it would all be okay. Instead, she straightened her shoulders. “Fifteen hours, Rook.”