Page 16 of Code Name: Reaper (K19 Allied Intelligence Team Two #5)

His leg pressed harder against mine, and I raised my head.

“Amaryllis?” Nemesis prompted.

“Sorry. Can you repeat that?”

“Would you like me to facilitate both meetings?”

“I’d prefer to reach out to Edmonds myself.” I couldn’t explain why, but something told me I’d get further with him than she would.

“And Briggs?”

“As commander of the coalition, I think Nemesis should be the one to establish first contact,” Reaper suggested.

“Roger that,” I said, but my mind was on Edmonds. There had to be a connection between Mercury living in the same area as I had, and now him.

“How much do we know about Aldrich’s history? Her childhood, things like that?” I asked Wren directly.

“I’ve been working on that. It’s buried so deep that even I can’t get my hands on it.”

Nemesis’ brow furrowed. “What are you thinking?”

I shrugged. “I’m curious.”

Nemesis stood. “If there’s nothing else, we have a full agenda. Blackjack can coordinate transport and arrange for a place for you to stay.”

Reaper pressed his leg against mine for the third time, then stood when Nemesis walked out of the room.

He didn’t speak again until we were on our way from the command center to the cottage. “How are you feeling about Edmonds being from your hometown?”

“The coincidence plagues me.”

“I get it, but do you care to elaborate anyway?”

“How does it all piece together? Mercury, Jekyll, Edmonds…”

“Aldrich.”

“I swear if she’s from anywhere near Newport News, I’m going to freak out.”

He raised a brow, glanced over at me, and smirked. “Freak out?”

“It’s highly classified, secret-agent code for ‘enough is fucking enough.’”

Reaper laughed out loud. “I’ll have to remember that. Is it exclusive to the NSA?”

“Exclusive to me is more like it.”

The next hour was a whirlwind of logistics. Blackjack and Reaper coordinated flights and accommodations while I contacted Edmonds.

The man was hesitant when I mentioned we’d received intelligence from Senate sources about something called Operation Avalon.

His voice reminded me so much of my grandfather’s that I wondered if they were contemporaries.

“The investigation into the organization involved two missing intelligence agents—Eleanor Aldrich and Lyra Carrington. Do either of those names sound familiar?”

“Prism was presumed dead years ago,” he commented.

“In the past few weeks, we’ve received intelligence indicating that wasn’t the case.”

“How credible is this intel?”

“I saw her myself.”

“Interesting,” he muttered. “So what do you need from me?”

“Everything you know about the investigation and Prism’s and Mercury’s role in it. Including why it was abruptly terminated. I’ll be in Newport News in the next day or so and was hoping we could meet.”

When he agreed to the day after tomorrow, I was elated, given I’d been close to certain he’d turn me down. “One more thing. Two actually,” I said as we were getting ready to end the call.

“Go ahead.”

“I’m curious how much you know about Prism’s early years.”

“Meaning?”

“Do you know if she was from the East or West Coast?”

“Are you playing games, Agent Beaudoin?” His question confused me.

“Not at all. Why would you think I would be?”

“Never mind, it isn’t important. Good day to you.”

“Wait,” I blurted, hoping he hadn’t already hung up. “Please tell me why.”

I heard him sigh. “Eleanor Aldrich was raised here, in Newport News. The same way you were.”

When the three chimes sounded, signaling the end of the call, I stared at the screen, equally nauseated and dumbfounded.

“How did the call go?” Reaper walked up behind me.

“Okay,” I mumbled, still too stunned to piece coherent thoughts together.

He pulled out the chair beside me and sat down. “What happened?”

I folded my arms. “He agreed to meet the day after tomorrow.”

“That sounds positive. Why do you look like you’re about to freak out?”

“Interesting you’d use those precise words,” I muttered before continuing. “He accused me of playing games when I inquired about Prism’s background.”

Reaper’s head cocked, and his expression mirrored my own. “What did you say?”

“I questioned it, and he told me Eleanor Aldrich was raised in Newport News like I was.”

“Holy shit.”

“That about sums it up. I warned you what might happen if I found out she was.”

“Anything else pertinent?”

“Only that he was surprised to hear she was still alive.”

“The plot thickens,” he muttered under his breath.

“Doesn’t it always?” I packed up my laptop. “When do we leave?”

“That’s what I came out to tell you. The plane is at Gatwick, fueled and ready to go.”

“We’re not flying commercial?”

“Nope. We’re on coalition turf now, babe.”

Babe. The first time he’d called me that was in Berlin. When we’d kissed. Right after he told me he hated me too.

Ten minutes later, I was coming out of the bedroom with my bags when I heard Reaper talking with Blackjack. Rather than join them, I stopped.

“You should meet with Mom and Dad while you’re in the States,” Blackjack said. “Dad was CTO at Cerberus during the time frame we’re investigating. He might have insights about defense contracting corruption from that era.”

“Absolutely not,” Reaper replied immediately. “I’m not bringing them into this.”

“They have the clearance, Kingston. And Dad’s memory for that stuff is incredible. He’d know the players, the schemes?—”

“I said no. Not now, anyway.”

“Why not?”

There was a pause, then Blackjack spoke again. One word. “Gotcha.”

I walked toward them. “Ready to leave?” Was it my imagination, or did both men appear uncomfortable about my arrival?

While Reaper offered to let me sit upfront for the drive to Gatwick, I took the rear passenger seat instead, noting that neither man seemed to have recovered from whatever awkward exchange had occurred prior to me joining them.

Was I being paranoid, thinking it had something to do with me? The longer the silence stretched on, the more I decided it must.

We’d been on the plane for ten minutes when I couldn’t stand the lack of conversation between us any longer. He’d barely said five words since we left the cottage.

“About your parents,” I began, looking at him from across the aisle.

“What about them?”

“I overheard you say you didn’t want to involve them after Blackjack suggested your father might have insights that would prove helpful.”

While he still didn’t look at me, his eyes flared. “It would be premature, not to mention an unnecessary security risk.”

I raised a brow, which he must’ve noticed.

“This investigation involves networks that have killed people to protect their secrets. I won’t put my parents in that kind of danger.”

The explanation was logical. What I should have expected. So why did it feel like he was leaving something out?

Thinking the conversation was at an end, I was stunned when he spoke again.

“What did you think it was?”

“I didn’t know, which is why I asked.”

He surprised me again by standing and crossing the aisle to sit next to me. “You obviously thought something .”

“Don’t make more of this than it is.” When I pulled my tablet from my bag, he snatched it away from me. “Hey! What do you think you’re doing?”

He waved it at me. “You’re not disappearing behind this thing until you answer me.”

A thousand responses raced through my mind, but honestly, I wasn’t in the mood for another battle. “I thought maybe you didn’t want them to meet me.”

He raised his chin. “Why would you think that?”

I unfastened my seat belt to move to another row, but he stopped me with his hand on my arm.

“Don’t hide. Answer me.”

I put my face in my hands, embarrassed when tears threatened. “It’s nothing. Less than nothing, in fact.”

“Do you want to know the truth?”

I lowered my hands and turned to face him. “That would be refreshing.”

He leaned closer, pressing his arm against mine. “My mom will take one look at us and see everything we refuse to.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re not the only one who dreams, you know?”

I felt my cheeks heat, and my mouth went dry. God, why hadn’t I brought a bottle of water with me?

“You say my name in your sleep.”

I gasped. “What?”

“I’ve heard you say Kingston. More than once.”

He’d told me not to hide, but this was the reason I’d wanted to. I was mortified enough to consider getting off the plane.

“I dream about you too.”

As much as I hadn’t wanted to look at him, now I had to. “Probably that we’re arguing and you want to?—”

“We aren’t arguing, babe.”

It was the second time in a couple of hours that he’d used that word, and it hurt. “Don’t.” I jerked my arm from his grasp and shifted to get up.

“Sit down. We’re about to take off.”

If the pilot hadn’t started taxiing, causing me to lose my balance, I would’ve ignored him.

“Don’t what?” he pressed. “Don’t tell you how often I dream about you? Don’t force you to admit you do too?”

“Don’t call me babe.” I huffed.

“Why? Is that what another of your boyfriends called you?”

Another of my boyfriends? Like that was what he was?

He leaned closer. “Answer me, Charity. Who does that remind you of?”

“You!” I spat. “Right before you told me you hated me.”

“Then what happened?”

“You know what happened.”

“Say it anyway.” The gravely tone of his voice and the way he seemed to lean closer with every word he spoke sent desire coursing through my body that landed with a thud between my legs.

“We kissed,” I whispered.

He reached up and cupped my cheek. “Do you have any idea how often I think about that kiss?”

“Reaper—”

“Kingston,” he corrected, stroking my cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“We shouldn’t do this.”

“Do what? Talk about the kiss? You’re right.”

He was agreeing with me? Now, I knew I had to be dreaming again. “I am?”

“Why talk about it when we could do it instead, babe?”

In the split second I opened my lips to protest, his mouth descended on mine.