Page 18 of Defender (Omega Sector: Under Siege #1)

“S O WE ’ VE CONFIRMED that Curtis Harper is working with someone else,” profiler Jon Hatton told the team as they sat around the conference table.

It had been a long damn day. Ashton had wished for the obstacle course or an escaped criminal they had to chase down or even some cat caught in a tree that required a SWAT rescue.

Anything that would get him out of this room and provide him a physical release for the frustration coursing through his system.

Summer’s face when he’d told her about his part in Tyler’s death yesterday. Eyes open or closed, it seemed to be the only thing he could clearly see.

They’d talked a couple of times on the phone so he could be certain she and Chloe were okay. He’d even dropped by there this morning to drop off one of Chloe’s favorite toys. A fire truck.

Summer had been polite but distant. Ashton hadn’t pressed. Like she’d said, there was too much going on right now to concentrate on what had happened in the past. He could see the weight of all the stress wearing on her. Her normally light and happy features were pinched and pale.

And the fault lay squarely at his feet.

“A security camera caught this footage of Harper and an unknown second man just after the florist shoot-out last Friday,” Jon continued. He put a picture up on the screen. “We haven’t gotten a hit on the second man in any of our facial recognition databases.”

“We also checked the picture against all family members of anyone that the SWAT team, particularly Ashton, had any sort of official contact with in the past few years,” Brandon Han said. “In case they’d started a club or something.”

“Anything?” Ashton asked.

“No. You don’t recognize him, do you?”

Ashton studied the second man. There didn’t seem to be anything striking about him whatsoever.

His hair was brown, generic. Skin pale. His cheekbones were just short of puffy.

His clothes were ill-fitting. He could’ve been anywhere from thirty to fifty years old and probably got passed by on the street all the time without anyone noticing him at all.

“No. Hell, I’m looking at him right now and am not sure I could describe him to anyone else.”

Brandon and Jon looked at each other, nodding. “We think that’s what he wants. That he’s wearing a pretty effective disguise.”

Ashton studied the picture again. Granted, he wasn’t an investigating agent like Brandon or Jon, but he was still pretty observant. “I don’t disagree with you. But it’s a pretty damn good disguise if it is one.”

Both men nodded.

“Do we think this is the same second guy who was at Summer Worrall’s house when Fitzy got shot?” Roman asked.

“We definitely know, like Ashton reported, that there was a second gunman at the scene. Interestingly, he did not use a rifle to shoot through the window. The casing forensics found was from a .357 mag revolver.”

Ashton wasn’t surprised by that news. “Good thing for me. If he’d been using a rifle and had any accuracy at all, I’d probably be dead.”

“It was pretty risky of him to shoot through the window since his partner was inside wrestling with you. He could’ve just as easily hit Harper,” Lillian pointed out.

“If they both only had handguns, it would’ve made more sense for them to go inside the house together.” Ashton leaned back in his chair. “Or at least for the guy to have rushed in once he realized Harper had trouble.”

But thank goodness the second guy hadn’t, because if he had, both Ashton and Summer would probably be dead right now.

“We think this unknown guy is calling the shots. A puppet master of sorts,” Jon continued. “That maybe he’s the one who got Curtis Harper riled up enough to try to kill Ashton.”

“I wondered about that,” Ashton said. “Why would Harper suddenly decide to come after me four years after his father’s death? It didn’t make any sense to me. But someone egging him on? That makes more sense.”

Steve Drackett, head of the Critical Response Division, walked in. “We’re going to continue to search for the identity of this man. In the meantime, there’s still an APB out for Curtis Harper. All locals are looking for him. We’re also starting to use nonofficial channels.”

Omega Sector had resources—both computerized and human—that most law enforcement agencies didn’t have. When Curtis Harper had started shooting at Ashton in the middle of a crowded city street, he’d become someone Omega would use all their resources to find and apprehend.

“By all reports, Harper isn’t a criminal mastermind. Or mastermind of any sort,” Brandon said. He tapped the screen at the picture of the unknown man. “This man is key. I know it. He’s manipulating Harper. Using him to do his dirty work but staying clean himself.”

“If it’s true, that’s a pretty elaborate scheme,” Lillian said. “Most people don’t sit around creating henchmen to eliminate law enforcement personnel.”

Brandon smiled, unoffended. “You’re right, of course.

Creating henchmen, as you put it, takes time.

Of course, Curtis Harper was already a henchman.

He just needed someone to bring it out.” The profiler studied the picture more carefully.

“There’s something familiar about this guy.

I don’t know what it is. But it’s something. ”

Brandon was the most brilliant agent any of them knew. If he said this unknown guy was important, everyone would listen.

“We also have an update on the training facility accident,” Steve said. “Except I can’t call it an accident. Turns out it was definitely sabotage.”

Ashton cursed under his breath. “Is it possible that Harper was able to manipulate the training facility in some way? Trying to take me out?”

Steve shook his head. “No. Definitely not. This was an inside job. The problem is, we don’t know inside where.”

Ashton sat up straighter. “So maybe not inside Omega Sector.”

Steve shook his head. “I sure as hell hope not. There were a number of different individuals, even whole firms in some cases, who were involved in the creation of the simulation vests. Not to mention the programmers and the electricians. Any one of them could’ve been bought off to sabotage it.”

“Great,” Roman murmured. “Fitzy’s got enemies crawling out of the woodwork.”

“Actually, it doesn’t look like Ashton was the intended target. He just happened to choose the sensor suit that had been tampered with.”

Ashton rubbed his temples against the headache brewing there. “Well, that seems par for the course with my luck this week.” The worst of it having little to do with people trying to kill him and everything to do with one petite woman who had every reason to hate him.

“Sorry about that, Ashton.” Steve’s glance was sympathetic.

“The training facility will remain shut down until we figure out what’s going on, which may be weeks.

Like Dr. Parker said, if it had been someone else who’d put on those sensors—someone with not as much body mass as you—we’d be at a funeral now. We can’t take any chances.”

The thought sobered everyone even further.

“Alright, people, it’s late.” Steve closed the file in front of him. “Time to head on home—get some rest. I’ll keep everyone posted if we hear anything about Harper or our mystery man.”

The team got up and began dispersing. Steve was right. The best thing they could do now was be ready when they needed to move. That meant allowing themselves some downtime while they could get it.

“You heading to the safe house?” Roman asked as they walked toward the locker room.

“No, I don’t think I’m welcome there.”

“Really? I thought you and Summer were a thing now. Looked that way when she was here yesterday morning.”

“Yeah, that was before she found out that I had the shot that could’ve saved her husband two years ago.”

Roman whistled through his teeth. “She blames you?”

“Wouldn’t anybody?”

“Fitzy, I’m no sniper expert like you, and I wasn’t up there that day. But we all know you would’ve taken the shot if you could’ve.”

Ashton was tired of everyone being so quick to forgive him. Everyone except Summer, who was the only one who mattered.

But he just shrugged. “Thanks, man.”

“I’m sure all of this has been pretty hard on Summer. For a civilian, that woman has seen way more than her fair share of violence. Let things blow over with Harper. She’ll come around.”

Ashton wished he could be so sure.

He turned back as Jon Hatton called his name from down the hallway. “Hey, Harper has been spotted in a bar across town. We’re going to apprehend him, think he’s less likely to run if we go in rather than uniformed locals.”

Ashton ran down the hall. “I’m coming with you.”

“We don’t need SWAT for this one. We can handle him,” Jon said. “I just wanted to let you know.”

But Ashton was already jogging back toward him. “I know you can. I’m still coming.”