Saving secrets, p.2
Saving Secrets, page 2
In the middle of my mad dash to the dance floor, I ran straight into a brick chest of a man with salt and pepper hair. He caught my arm and held me upright with a gleam in his eye. “Rhea,” he said with a deep authoritative tone.
“Mr. H—”
“Conrad. You can call me Conrad. I’ve been wanting to talk to you all night, but you seem to keep slipping away.”
I’d never known my father. But the way Conrad stared at me, I felt like he knew everything I’d just done. He glared down at me as if he could see straight through me and he was a concerned father at what he saw.
I shook off the feeling, and met his stare. “After what I heard about you from Jake, I’m shocked you’re celebrating today. Not trying to sabotage it? Or at least perform a disappearing act so you didn’t have to attend?” I stopped with small talk years ago. My candor set a decent barrier for bullshit, and people who needed to fill their days with banter I didn’t quite have the energy for anymore.
Conrad laughed, the light not quite reaching his eyes. “I love Lena like a daughter. While Jake wasn’t the one I saw for her, I can support the happiness they give each other. In part, I have you to thank for that.”
It was my turn to laugh at the prospect. Me saving a relationship. Innocent lives, yes, but romance wasn’t exactly my forte. “I just reminded Jake nothing is over until your heart stops beating.”
“Poetic.”
“I wasn’t trying to be.”
He smiled tightly and grabbed a flute of champagne off a passing tray. “Sparkling wine?”
“I don’t think I’ll be drinking anymore,” I said curtly. It was about time for me to leave. I’d done my due diligence. Lena and Jake were happily married. They got the love they deserved. Another life saved. Well, a heart saved on this one. Whatever, I’d done what I came here to do—thanked them for the picture. I need to say my farewells and get the heck outta dodge.
“Will you also not be dancing anymore?” Conrad tilted his head to the wooden dance floor canopied with white roses and baby’s breath. The entire wedding had been one perfectly seductive detail to the next—soft candle light, romantic music, exquisite food. Even impeccable taste in wait staff.
Conrad had paid for every dime, and had spent most of the night silent in the corner of the room. He graced the dance floor once, to dance with Lena, so his question took me by surprise. Was the man flirting with me?
No. Absurd. Conrad had more than a few years on me. I’m thirty, not an old maid yet! But Conrad’s salt and pepper hair, his devilish eyes, his hard body, the man was still very handsome. If I could even see attractiveness anymore. I mean, I thought the bloody pulp of the man in a dark closet was sheer seduction. Perhaps the stress of this week had really been too much for me to handle.
Fuck it. What is the harm in one dance?
“I guess exceptions can be made,” I said.
Conrad offered his hand and the strength of his arm as he swept me on to the dance floor. The man knew how to dance. He moved smoothly across the mahogany floor in his flawless charcoal suit.
I followed his lead, caught up in the strangeness of the moment. I’d been warned by Jake and Lena to be ready for anything when Conrad was near.
The ghost over my shoulder, my constant companion, whispered, “Careful, Re. He’s a predator.”
Conrad’s shoulders were stronger than I thought they’d be. His tone almost gentle as he spoke. “You have a reputation, Rhea.”
I clenched my hand on his, trying not to stumble over his feet. “How do you know that?”
“I keep an ear to the ground on things that interest me.”
“Things or people?”
Conrad grinned. “Both.”
“And does my reputation precede me?”
“It absolutely does. Which is why this offer comes with silence and a returned favor.”
I didn’t want to be intrigued. But damn, if the devil himself played a tune, I might dare sing his song. “Well then, go ahead and proposition me.”
“The truth, Rhea. I can give you the truth about what happened to Max.”
My feet froze on the dance floor. Lena said Conrad had been a high-ranking Army officer once upon a time. He now had contacts in God knew where. Was the man bluffing? Probably not on this. If the truth was in a file somewhere, Conrad most likely had access to it, or could find a way around secret files hidden deep within military databases.
My ghost’s words tickled my ear, “Careful, Re. Devils lead to wolves. And you aren’t ready.”
“What do you want in return?”
“A job.”
“You want me to get you a job?”
Is Conrad drunk?
He smiled, the cool mint on his breath tingling against my cheek. “No, Rhea. I need you to work on a job for me. You are currently on the hunt for one if I’m not mistaken.”
I swallowed down the bile in my throat. “You aren’t mistaken.”
“Pilots like you don’t come around very often, and I’m in desperate need of your expertise, Ace.”
I sucked back the memories that came with the name. “People don’t call me that anymore.” My call sign faded away when I left the Coast Guard, which was intentional. I didn’t want the assumptions of the nickname. I didn’t want anything to do with that life. I’d left it behind when Max didn’t come back.
“My apologies. I thought the name suited you.” Then I guessed he didn’t know why I was currently on the job hunt.
I didn’t want to give Conrad the satisfaction of my curiosity. But if he could accurately find the truth about Max’s final days, then he had my undivided attention. Max still possessed a part of my thoughts I wouldn’t admit to a single soul.
“What’s the work?” I asked
“The details are a bit tricky. It’ll take some discretion, some diversion, some low flying with rugged terrain and unpredictable weather patterns. From what I understand, it’s what you’re so good at.”
“I might be.” I’d never even considered working for an ex-military private contracting firm who did unknown things in obscure and unstable countries. The pay had to be decent if the work was as erratic and dangerous as Lena had hinted at. Damn it, I liked the idea too much. The unknown of what death-defying task was around the corner excited me in a way it shouldn’t. Just like that kiss.
“The job is for six weeks hauling some freight to a ship. Are you interested?”
Screw beating around the bush. “What’s the pay?”
“Check your phone. I just sent you the contract. Review it. If you can agree to the terms, I’ll see you next week in Nashville for the mission brief.”
I stopped swaying and dropped my arms along with all pretenses of dancing. “You believe you can find the write-up on Max?”
“If you take this assignment, I will make it my personal mission to find it for you.”
“Six weeks? No pilot would commit without knowing the full details.”
Conrad narrowed his gaze. “Don’t act like you hold your life in such high regard. We both know better than that. My offer comes with a generous payout, and the truth you deserve.”
I almost left the man standing on the dance floor. Almost. But Conrad was right. I had gambled with my life a little too loosely in the past. And he knew it. I prayed he couldn’t see the desperation in my eyes. Or the craving for something more. I didn’t need to look at the contract. “I’ll see you in a week.”
CHAPTER TWO
RHEA
WALKING INTO AMN FELT LIKE entering a fancy hotel I couldn’t afford. I’d dressed in my normal flight clothes and tennis shoes with a full flight suit stowed in my backpack just in case. I thought it was unusual to meet downtown, assuming Conrad would want to test my skills at the private airport before we did the mission briefing. Apparently that was not the case. I smiled at the assistant in the lobby when she closely examined my Chris Stapleton T-shirt and flight pants.
I clenched my bag over my shoulder and prayed this wasn’t Conrad’s idea of a prank. I’d signed the contract, ended my rental agreement in Seattle, and arrived in town this morning with only two duffle bags in the back of my Honda.
“I’m supposed to check in with Echo team today. Do you know where I should go?” I asked the curvy redhead at the front desk.
“Echo team?” A familiar voice laughed behind me. “Rhea, chica, what are you doing here?”
“Stacy. Hey, yeah. I, well, I accepted a job offer from Conrad.”
“Holy-fuck’n-shit! You work for AMN now?”
I’d met Stacy at the wedding, briefly. In her couture V-neck electric-purple ensemble with matching heels, she gave off the impression of sexy sarcasm in a suit, but I’m certain her IQ was a solid hundred points above mine.
I didn’t want her to get the wrong impression if Conrad considered short-term contracts not full-time employees. “I’m contracted for six weeks.”
“Oh, yes! This is superb. The crazy amazeballs time we’re going to have! Now tell me, do you like tequila?”
“Uh, it’s 8AM.”
“I mean later, tonight. That place I was telling you about at the wedding. We have got to go. I’m sure if Echo team is spinning up, there will be a full get-together tonight before you head out.”
“I… I don’t think we head out for another few weeks. I mean. I’m supposed to train and get my team. I should be here for a bit before we do a farewell dinner.”
“Hmm.” Stacy’s eyes twinkled with suspicion. “So whatcha doing for the boys? I didn’t even ask what your line of work was at the wedding. Sorry, when you get the bubbly in me, I just want to dance.” She shook her hips and fist pumped the air like she was at a rock concert, but in sky-high heels.
“I’m a helicopter pilot.”
Stacy bit the side of her lip before bursting out laughing. “I don’t see any helicopters around here, sweetheart.” She eyed my flight pants. “I don’t think you’re training today.”
“You might have a point. Where is Mr. Vandenburg’s office? He’s my team lead. Do you know where I could find him?” I needed to clear up any misunderstandings right now. Perhaps I had rushed into this without thoroughly thinking it through, again. The contract was vague and never mentioned any details of the mission except the estimated timeline. But the money had been wired to my account two days ago. And holy crap, there were more zeros on the end of the number than I’d seen in a while. In six weeks I’d make what it would have taken me four years in the Coast Guard.
If Stacy’s shit-eating grin could get any bigger, she might burst at the seams.
“What? What did I say? Is that not how you pronounce it?”
“No. You said it right. It’s just that we call him Reginn, or Viking for fun. I don’t think anyone’s called him Mr. Vandenburg except at the DMV.”
I knew that name. Reginn. He was the no-show groomsman at Jake and Lena’s wedding. The one Stacy said was sex on a stick. Perfect. He sounds like a total asshat for never showing, and I’m working with him. Shoot me down now.
“Did he ever say why he never showed up at the wedding?” I asked.
“Something about a hiking accident. Lost his phone off a cliff. Whatever. Typical of him. Reginn usually makes it on time though. Scarcely made it for the last two hours of the reception. I guess you already left. Oh well, fate is in your favor. You get him for six whole weeks.” Stacy’s cackle had sweat dripping down the back of my T-shirt.
I didn’t think her words were a good omen. It was almost like a prophecy before the locusts descend upon the lands and the sky begins to rain blood.
“He sounds… great.”
“I’ll take you to the briefing rooms,” she chirped.
“Maybe I should go meet with Conrad first.” I had a bad feeling. No, scratch that. I had the creeping doom of a pirate walking the plank while sharks swam in circles chomping at each other, waiting to pull me apart one limb at a time.
“I’m sure he’ll be in the briefing.”
The hair on my arms stood up more with each step of Stacy’s clacking heels. It might not be too late to back out. I was confident in my piloting skills, but not in evading Conrad or whoever this Reginn man was.
No. The money was already sent elsewhere. No turning back. I had to ride it out, no matter who I worked for or with.
I counted each step and noted every turn Stacy took in case I had to find my way back out on my own afterwards. After five turns and way too many doors, Stacy twisted on her heel and waved at the room like Vanna White unveiling the next letter. “Here you are. Looks like most of Echo is here.” She winked before flitting down the hallway. “Knock ‘em dead, fly girl.”
I pushed open the heavy metal door and my eyes went directly to the head of the table where a lean man with chestnut-colored eyes and bronzed skin sat. His dark hair was buzzed short, but that was the only short part of the man. He stood as soon as I entered the room, his height a few inches above mine. His gaze curiously roamed my face. “Hi ma’am, you have the wrong room. R&D is at the end of the hallway.”
Do I look like I’m a tech nerd? This day is getting better and better. “No. I’m Rhea.” I assumed the brown-eyed, tanned man was Reginn since he was at the head of the table.
But not a single glimmer of recognition at my name showed in his eyes.
The confusion on the man’s face only accelerated my bounding pulse. Had Conrad not informed anyone I was supposed to be here? Or did I have the wrong room and Stacy was pulling one over on me? She seemed like the kind of woman who took great joy in keeping people on their toes.
I tried again. “I’m the pilot.”
The two other men in the room looked at each other then turned to me, confusion creasing their foreheads.
The man at the head of the table hurriedly moved to me and held out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Ace. Sorry. We didn’t know who you were.” A welcoming grin spread across his lips, creating two dimples on either side of his cleanly shaven face.
Thank goodness. A genuine smile. I can do this.
Reginn seemed nice enough and even slightly apologetic. But they only knew me for my call sign. Did they know what the call sign meant?
Oh no. What did Conrad tell these men about me?
“I don’t use that call—”
“All right boys, let’s get down to business.” A ginormous blond man with icy eyes cleared the threshold.
I almost ripped Reginn’s arm out of his socket when I turned to stare at the man I’d kissed in a storage closet one week ago. His bruises had faded against his light skin. His hair was cut shorter. No way he could tie it back now. It was cropped around his ears, and slightly spiked in the front from running his hands through it. But it was him, no question about it.
“Oh, shit. Sorry, Reginn.” I let go of his hand.
“I’m not Reginn,” the bronzed, dimpled man said. “I’m Eli. That motherfucker with a gnarly black eye is Reginn. Some crazy mama mountain lion went for him.”
No. This is not happening.
How could I have screwed up this royally before I even started? He was not a waiter… he was my… boss?! I avoided eye contact and held out my hand awkwardly. “Nice to meet you. I’m your pilot.” I will die on this table before I acknowledge one second of that closet.
Reginn’s large, callused hand engulfed mine and provided enough pressure to draw my eyes up to his. He stared me down with a ferocity that took my breath away. He recognized me. And he apparently didn’t like what he saw. “You’re Ace?” he growled.
“That’s not my call sign anymore.”
“What is it now?”
“I don’t have one. I’m just Rhea.”
The pressure on my hand hardened along with Reginn’s sculpted jaw. The coldness radiating from him jilted me into silence. How could he be the same man I’d kissed, the one who made me quake and wish for more than a brush of his lips?
Conrad strode through the doorway, then Aden, who shut the door with a quiet click behind him.
“Reginn, I see you’ve met your pilot,” Conrad said with a hint of cheeriness I wasn’t expecting from him.
Reginn released my hand like it burned him. “No,” he gritted.
“No?” I asked.
Reginn turned to Conrad. “Did you even vet her?”
Rude. But I get it. Reginn did see me at a low point when I was talking to myself in a closet, then I asked him to kiss me. Like an idiot teenager without any sense at all! Of course the man didn’t want me to be in charge of his helicopter. But he could’ve at least objected when I wasn’t in the room.
“I’m standing right here!”
“Oh, shit,” I heard Eli mutter as he sank down into his seat. His dimples disappeared fast.
Conrad dropped a set of files on the table. “Yes, I did,” he said to Reginn. “She’s flown thousands of hours with the Coast Guard and has hundreds of saves credited to her time in the air. She can fly the Airbus MH-65, to the AS350, to the McDonnell Douglas MD 900, and even the MH-60R Seahawk if I’m not mistaken.”
“But she hasn’t flown in combat.” Reginn enunciated each word like it was a sin to be standing before him. His blue eyes were edged with the promise of violence.
I raised my hand, then didn’t wait for Conrad to allow me to speak. “I thought this was a cargo drop?” I could handle any payload Conrad wanted, but I wasn’t aware there would be a possibility of getting shot at. What payload was Conrad transporting? And where the hell were we doing it?
“Reginn is rushing to conclusions. This is a series of cargo drops.” Conrad flipped off the lights and turned on a monitor. “Everyone sit down and listen. Timetable has moved up.”
The first few slides of his presentation showed a deep valley bordered by steep mountain ranges on all four sides. The eastern mountain range led to a long coast line and the open ocean. The northern and southern mountains led to miles of thick canopied forest. The west led to what appeared to be a city with a high population of homes and buildings. But the land beyond the northern range was painted red—designated rebel held zone.
