Elite Ops: Black Jack Part 2

The tired young woman who checked him in paid a little too much attention to the wet leather he was wearing. The glint of l.u.s.t in her eyes a.s.sured him that if he needed any company when she got off her shift, he only had to let her know.

h.e.l.l, he should take her up on it, he thought as he strode to the elevator. He would have, if he wasn't d.a.m.ned sure that he'd end up disgusting himself. Once a man saw heaven in one woman's arms, then nothing else would do. And that scared the s.h.i.t out of him, the thought that no other woman but Lilly would do.

Sliding the security key card into the electronic slot, Travis waited for the green light before stepping carefully into the room, his fingers curled around the b.u.t.t of the gun holstered beneath his shirt.

The room was empty. The sense of vacancy that filled it wrapped around him. It was pure loneliness. h.e.l.l, he would have almost preferred an a.s.sa.s.sin.

Closing the door behind him, Travis tossed his leather bag to the empty chair beside the bed and stared around the darkened room for long moments before moving to the lamp and flipping it on.

Turning, he came to a hard stop at the sight that met him in the shadowed corner on the far side of the room.

"h.e.l.l, I didn't even sense you." Travis raked his fingers through his hair as Jordan uncurled himself from the chair next to the small round table. "I thought we were meeting later."

Jordan was an enigma to him, as well as to the rest of the team. Even his nephew, Noah Blake, admitted that his uncle was d.a.m.ned complicated. Travis knew he had never worked with another man as dangerous, nor as completely icy, as Jordan Malone.

"We need to talk before we meet with the commanders from Elite Two. You'll be accompanying them to Switzerland, and I wanted to brief you first," Jordan informed him as he moved to the tiny kitchen station in the corner and pulled open the door to the box refrigerator.

"I could have used a nap first," Travis grunted.

Why the h.e.l.l Switzerland? The last he heard he was heading to England.

He could have used some time to think about this one.

"You want the nap or full disclosure?" Jordan asked as he pulled free two beers, uncapped them, and handed one to Travis before returning to his chair.

Full disclosure from Commander Tight-a.s.s? Now that would sure as h.e.l.l be a change.

Setting the bottle on the dresser behind him, Travis threw the helmet to the bed before peeling off his wet jacket and throwing Jordan a dark glare.

"Since when do you give full disclosure?" he asked.

Bright blue eyes flashed with a hint of anger as Jordan lifted the bottle and took a long drink of the beer. When he set the beer back on the table, his expression was once again cool, composed.

"Since we're using a noncombatant," Jordan stated, his voice harder than normal.

Travis watched him carefully now. "Night Hawk isn't a noncombatant, Jordan," he reminded him. "She's an agent."

Jordan took a long sip of his beer, his expression thoughtful before saying, "Not any longer."

Travis froze. He'd never heard of an Elite Ops agent being released from duty. It was a life sentence. Try to run, try to hide, even dare to think of revealing the truth about your life, and it was fatal.

"What do you mean, not any longer?"

The only way she could have managed release was death. And she couldn't be dead. She couldn't.

Leaning forward, Jordan braced his elbows on his knees and stared back at him, his expression remote, but Travis felt the tension emanating from the other man.

"We believe Night Hawk has been compromised," Jordan said. "Two months ago she was shot outside of Elite Two's headquarters. She was struck in the head."

Two months ago. She would have just been returning to England. Two months and he was just now learning what had happened to her.

Travis felt ice form in his veins. For one everlasting moment bleak darkness seemed to flow through him, to slice into the hardened shield he'd placed around his heart.

Night Hawk. She was tiny as h.e.l.l, fragile, slender. There were times she appeared almost broken inside. She was the type of woman that a man wanted to protect, to wrap in cotton batting and hold close to his heart forever.

The fact that she was a trained sniper with a rating that other snipers would envy never failed to amaze him. She didn't look strong enough to carry the rifle he knew had been customized for her. She sure as h.e.l.l didn't look merciless enough to use it, though he knew she was.

She was filled with regret, with bitterness. There was a dark, overwhelming agony that lived in her eyes, and a hunger that went far beyond the l.u.s.t he knew she felt for him.

And now, there was a chance he would never again touch her, never taste her, never know the culmination of the need that filled her gaze each time she looked at him.

He could only imagine the damage, and the horrific results of those images flashed through his mind, sending a shaft of pain through his soul that he should have been immune to.

"Status?" He could barely force the words past his lips as he suspected the worst.

Jordan had stated she was compromised, not dead. That left hope. G.o.d, he needed hope. He couldn't imagine his Night Hawk gone forever, the tiny glimmer of hope that always lingered in her gaze extinguished.

"Recovering. She moved at the last second, so the bullet just grazed her. She has a d.a.m.ned hard head, but there are complications." There was no emotion in Jordan's tone. He could have been discussing the weather rather than a person's life.

Travis had to do something. If he continued to stand there, then he might end up losing his grip on reality.

Jerking fresh, dry jeans from his pack and ignoring Jordan, he removed the leather riding pants before pulling the jeans over his legs and securing them quickly. Pulling the damp jacket from his shoulders, he tossed it negligently to the floor before stripping the moist T-shirt from his body and tossing it to the floor with the jacket.

Jordan wasn't talking.

Travis pulled a T-shirt over his head, then turned, lifted the beer, and finished it in one drink.

"What are the complications?" he finally asked, knowing Jordan was going to draw this out, to force him to ask, to reveal any emotions he might feel. Any feelings that could compromise the a.s.signment or Travis's ability to use Night Hawk however Jordan intended to use her.

When he spoke, he was deadly serious.

"Amnesia. She's completely forgotten the past six years. That includes her father's death.

For all intents and purposes, she's become a liability, Travis."

Amnesia. She was once again the woman she had been rather than the woman she had been trained to be. For a moment, a sense of joy threatened to swell within him, because he remembered the young woman she had been rather than the agent she had been forced to become. One he knew suffered from the loss of the life she had left behind.

"Then the operation has changed?" She was alive. She was alive. The words played through his mind, his heart, as he fought to get his bearings upon realizing that she hadn't been killed, that at least he could hold on to the fact that she still breathed.

"The operation's focus is still the same. But the reasons behind the mission have . . .

expanded a bit," Jordan informed him. "And we're still going to use her. You're still going to use her."

Knowing it and hearing it were two different things. Having that knowledge affirmed with such cool confidence, such lack of regret or mercy, had the power to p.i.s.s Travis off more than it should have.

"Now why the f.u.c.k doesn't that surprise me?" Travis bit out, his voice rough, emotion slipping through his control despite his attempts to hold it back. "f.u.c.k, Jordan, over the years, has it occurred to you that you've turned into nothing more than a governmental f.u.c.king robot?"

He knew the original operation that had been planned. It would have been hard enough for her to go back to her old life. Doing it with no memory of who she had been for the past six years would make her a danger to herself, to himself, and to the mission, and that wasn't acceptable.

"We suspect that whoever tried to kill her six years ago has somehow found her again. The Elite Ops could be jeopardized if this is true, Travis. If they found her, then every agent in the program could now be at risk. We have to find this b.a.s.t.a.r.d and find out just how much he knows."

"You'll get her killed if you try to use her now," Travis warned him, only barely managing to maintain an air of unconcern now that the initial shock had pa.s.sed. "If she's unaware of her training, then she's unaware of the danger as well."

He was surprised at the slow nod of a.s.sent he was given in reply.

"We've considered this," Jordan informed him. "Myself and Night Hawk's commanders have come up with a viable alternative for the situation. She's changed, Travis, just as the rest of you have. She won't be the same woman no matter what her memories are. However, you were more involved in her training and she's closer to you. We suspect she'll trust you no matter the situation. You'll have to guide her through the mission without revealing your true reason for being there, or her previous agent status."

"Really?" His lips twisted cynically. "Is that all?"

Jordan gave him a mirthless grin.

"Her closeness with me may not help," Travis told him. "Actually, it could hurt."

Jordan watched him closely for long moments.

"I'm confident you can handle it," Jordan finally stated. "Especially considering the night the two of you spent together."

Travis remained silent at the comment. His night with Lilly was between him and Lilly. It had nothing to do with Jordan or with the Elite Ops. "What do you know about the attempt on her?" he asked instead.

"The plastic surgeon listed as her doctor was killed in a fire in his office the day before she was shot," Jordan revealed. "And Raisa has reports that in the past month someone had been questioning Lilly's contacts in Berlin and Afghanistan. We have to find out if they know about the Ops as well."

Dragging his fingers through his hair, Travis sat down on the edge of the bed and stared back at his commander. "What are the chances of her memories returning?"

Jordan shrugged. "Our doctors say no chance. There was too much damage. She's d.a.m.ned lucky to be breathing on her own.

"Elite Command is willing to let her go, to allow her to return to her old life as long as her memories stay buried. She'll never be safe, though, until her would-be a.s.sa.s.sin is caught. This is the second attempt on her life. We have to know if Elite Ops is at risk as well, how she was found, and who Lord Harrington suspected was electronically stealing and transferring those funds. It's all tied together. Find Lilly's attempted murderer and we'll solve the rest of the mysteries."

"Do we have any suspects?" Travis questioned, his voice rough.

"A whole society full," Jordan informed him grimly. "Lady Victoria Lillian Harrington and her father were incredibly social, as her family still is. At this point we haven't pinpointed who it isn't, so it could be anyone."

"What does your gut say?" Travis demanded.

"Her uncle, Desmond Harrington. He married her mother the second year after Lord Harrington's death. He's my best guess."

Breathing in roughly, Travis fought to push back the anger that was fraying his control.

He'd learned over the years that it rarely paid to give in to his emotions. The plain and simple fact was that he had signed up for this willingly, and he had known the rules when he had done so.

"Any indication Elite Ops has really been compromised?" It was all he could do to force the words past his lips, to keep his anger at bay that Lilly would now be so d.a.m.ned vulnerable.

"Several." Jordan's jaws clenched together. "There were inquiries into several agencies questioning any covert status she might have with them. In Afghanistan one of her contacts reported and forwarded several anonymous e-mails he received requesting any known agents she may have worked with."

"That list is long," Travis bit out, his voice cold. "Lilly Belle was trained for just such work."

"And it's well doc.u.mented within those agencies that she provided security as well as contacts," Jordan agreed. "But we believe her cover will hold."

Travis nodded thoughtfully. He kept his anger contained for the moment and forced his mind to consider the angles of this new, far more dangerous operation.

"How will I re-establish myself in her life?" he asked.

"Directly would be the most efficient," Jordan said. "Her Elite Ops cover as a professional escort will be in place. If anyone goes digging into the past six years, that's what they'll find.

We'll also stick close to the truth about your past a.s.sociation with her-that you trained her.

But in addition to that, you were one of her more frequent clients, as well as her lover. That should give you more than enough cover to get close to her. She'll want to know about those missing years. Who better to tell her about them than her lover, Travis Caine?"

Travis clenched his teeth and refrained from warning Jordan that this might not be as easy as he and the others were a.s.suming.

He knew Lilly. She would never accept that she had been a professional escort. She would know better, and he fully expected she would eventually remember the truth. Lilly was too stubborn not to remember.

"It's as if you had this planned from the beginning. It's laying in smooth as h.e.l.l, isn't it, Jordan?" Travis mused sarcastically.

"Nothing about this has been smooth," Jordan informed him. "You were the one who rescued her that night. If you hadn't been there, she would have died six years ago. It's unfortunate we weren't fast enough to save Lord Harrington though or to identify the killers."

Travis regretted that as well. And sometimes it shook him to think that it had been mere luck that had saved Lilly's life that night. He and Noah had been there hoping to steal the information Lord Harrington was going to turn over to MI5.

"So is MI5 in on this?" Travis asked.

Jordan shook his head. "We've been involved with this one since the beginning and it concerns one of our own agents, so they're handing it over to us completely. Besides, you know they'd prefer not to have to go after one of England's most privileged themselves, and that's exactly where this thing is pointing."

Jordan sighed. "As for Lilly, this is her chance to go home, Travis. We both know she's missed it, despite the fact that she never mentions it."

"Even if she doesn't belong there anymore?" Travis ran a hand through his hair.

"Yes," Jordan said with a joyless smile, "even if."

Travis paced to the large window, though he didn't pull the curtain aside to stare into the night beyond.

Lady Victoria Lillian Harrington.

Victoria Harrington had been quiet, filled with laughter, and as polite as h.e.l.l. She had been all woman, though.

He remembered dancing with her before his own "death." He had been very married at the time. He had also been very aware of his wife's infidelities. He'd danced with Lilly and fought his arousal as he saw the very innocent, very feminine hunger in her eyes. He'd seen her regret, too, just as sharply as he had felt his own.

"Do you think it's truly possible for her to go home after the life she's lived the past six years?" Travis mused. "She's not that innocent, idealistic young woman any longer, Jordan."

Was it really possible to return to innocence no matter the memories lost?

Jordan breathed out roughly at the question.

"Who knows?" He finally shrugged. "Either way, we have a mission to complete and a very dangerous person to find. Lord Harrington was a very specialized, well-trained agent.

Whoever killed him knew what the h.e.l.l they were doing.

"MI5 focused on the new lord. Desmond Harrington, Harold Harrington's half-brother from their father's second marriage. He's caretaker of the Harrington t.i.tle now."

"I'm surprised Lady Harrington remarried so quickly." Travis knew Angelica as well. There were few things that mattered as much to her as appearances did.