Page 19 of Stealthy Seduction (SEAL Team Blackout Charlie #5)

W ith one hand on Izzy’s back, Steele propelled her through the back door of the Blackout Charlie base. Updates from his team channeled into his ear in rapid blasts.

Her steps were unsteady, shock making them disjointed and mechanical, but she didn’t falter as he ushered her toward the war room.

And to think he’d really believed that being Izzy’s sound guy at a peaceful healthcare rally would be a boring job. Nothing concerning Izzy was boring.

This was all the more reason why he couldn’t have a relationship with her. She had enough trauma, and being with him would only heap on more.

The war room doors were already open as they approached. Con’s tall form was braced in the opening as he coordinated their team’s response to what could only be called a catastrophic security breach.

The man’s expression was grim as he watched them approach, but Steele caught the flash of relief in Con’s eyes when he realized they were safe.

They cleared the doors and Steele guided her to the closest chair. As if out of nowhere, Kennedy appeared at Izzy’s side and pressed a steaming mug into Izzy’s trembling hands.

“Chamomile tea,” she said softly, her voice carrying the kind of gentle authority that reminded him that she had firsthand experience with trauma.

Izzy cradled the mug without speaking, gripping it like it was a lifeline.

Steele glanced up from her just as several of his teammates barreled through the door. Chairs scraped back and Con moved into his usual position at the front of the room.

“We’ve got a lot to figure out and not a lot of time to do it.”

Unable to think about sitting down when adrenaline still pulsed hard and fast through his veins, Steele shifted to stand behind Izzy, his fingers curling around the back of her chair. He expected to feel the warmth of her body seep into his fingers, but it never did.

In fact, she was shaking badly.

He whipped off his thick outer layer and draped it around her shoulders. She turned her head toward him in acknowledgement but didn’t speak.

The loose curls shook around her face as if there was a breeze. A strong urge to pick her up and hold her in his lap barreled through him.

But he couldn’t do that. Not yet.

Mason and Dante joined the group and sat upright, all business. Seconds behind their arrival came the tap of female shoes on the marble floor.

Sophie strode in with Alyssa right behind her. A second later, May joined them. All the ladies tossed concerned looks at Izzy but didn’t attempt to question her about her ordeal.

Some of the adrenaline leeched from his system. He drew out the chair beside her and sank onto it, settling a hand on her knee. She huddled deeper into his coat and continued to tremble.

Leaning closer, he pitched his voice low. “Try to sip some of the tea, honey. It will warm you.”

Kennedy returned with a throw blanket looped over her arm. She brought it over to Izzy. Steele took it with a nod of thanks and spread it over her lap, tucking it around her thighs.

He was totally aware of how everyone watched her. As if they would throw themselves in the line of fire to protect her. But his reasons had to do with the way she made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t felt in years. Like maybe he wasn’t just a ghost.

With a single sweeping glance around the room, Con brought the meeting to order. Then his gaze centered on Izzy. “Before we start, how are you doing, Izzy?”

“Not great. Thanks for asking.” Izzy’s laugh was hollow and edged with hysteria.

“Do you have any idea what it took for me to heal after Syria? I tried everything—talk therapy, journaling. Women’s weekends in the mountains.

Meditation. Ayahuasca ceremonies in Peru!

I did shrooms in Costa Rica! I went to a retreat center that specialized in equine therapy. ”

She started tapping each finger as she named a new therapy. “I tried acupuncture, reiki, sound baths . And I’m not gonna lie, the baby goat yoga was actually fun, but there aren’t enough baby goats in the world to fix what just happened out there!”

She set the mug down with shaking hands, her voice growing smaller.

“This is a lot. And it’s all coming back to me—everything I worked so hard to overcome.

I thought Syria was the worst thing that could ever happen to me.

But this…” Her voice cracked. “Why does some guy in a creepy LED mask want me dead?”

Steele’s stare flashed to Con. His leader held his gaze as they battled silently with who would tell her.

After a long heartbeat, he dropped his gaze to the table, but his jaw tightened until it popped as he waited for the words to come.

“I told you it really is connected to Syria.”

Her voice came out faint, reedy. “How?”

He slipped his hand under the blanket and found her chilled fingers. “This isn’t the same people who held you hostage, Izzy. It’s connected to a bombing that took place at the same time.”

Con settled his palms on the table and looked straight at Steele. “Shut up!”

He started trying to explain more, but Con cut across him. “Shut up, Steele! Shut up now!”

Izzy jolted to her feet, prepared to take flight like a frightened bird.

“Jesus, Con. She’s been through enough!” Steele grabbed her, pulling her down next to him and keeping his arm around her shoulders. She was trembling all over.

Con sent him a glare. “We need her to swear in. Not another word until she swears in.” His eyes cut to Izzy.

“What? What am I swearing to?” Panic seeped into the edges of her voice, making it brittle.

Steele squeezed her fingers. “Izzy, what you’re asking is classified information. We need you to keep this under wraps.”

She let her eyes slip shut and when she opened them, he saw she was more grounded. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

Con pushed off the table. “Ms. Cruz, before we proceed, I need you to understand that what you’re about to hear is classified information vital to national security.

By accepting this briefing, you agree to maintain absolute confidentiality about all operational details, personnel identities and tactical information shared in this room.

You will not discuss or disseminate any portion of this intelligence to unauthorized individuals, including your colleagues, supervisors…

or any media outlets. Violation of this agreement could result in federal prosecution under the Espionage Act.

Do you understand and agree to these terms? ”

She gulped, chest heaving. “I agree. Now somebody please tell me what’s going on.”

Steele leaned in, capturing her gaze. “There was a Blackout team in Syria working to protect Alyssa while she negotiated for your rescue. At the same time, there was a bomb threat—a delivery to the American Red Cross station.”

“The Red Cross… The doctor?”

He shook his head. “He plays a part in this, but we have cause to believe the guy in the mask is Cipher.”

“Cipher!”

He nodded. “His real name is Daniel Sheen. The woman running that Red Cross station was his mother.”

Izzy’s eyes widened as she began to process the information.

“One of her coworkers was being extorted,” Steele continued.

“He knew about the bomb and sent an email warning to Daniel. Naturally, Daniel reached out to everyone he could think of to try to save his mother, but…” He paused.

“They couldn’t risk compromising the hostage rescue mission to stop the bomb. ”

Izzy went very still, her journalist’s mind working to connect the dots.

When she spoke, her voice was slow, measured.

“And the doctor I interviewed—Dr. Samuel Webb—it was Daniel’s mother he tried to save after the bombing.

” She looked around the room, her amber eyes reflecting a growing understanding.

“What are the chances that I was the one held hostage in Syria, then I’m the one who just happens to interview the doctor who tried to save Cipher’s mother?

” She let out a hollow laugh. “Sheer coincidence. I mean, I’m like the guy who kept getting struck by lightning. ”

“You’re not alone,” Alyssa said softly.

Izzy’s gaze moved around the table, and Steele could see her putting together pieces she hadn’t seen before.

“Chase and each of the women in this room is a target for Cipher,” Steele explained.

Chase picked up the thread, reaching for Alyssa’s hand as he did. “Alyssa was the negotiator trying to free the hostages in Syria. That placed a target on her, which you already knew.”

Kennedy shifted in her seat. After a pause, she made up her mind to share her story.

“I needed my background as an exotic dancer wiped clean so I could get a government security clearance without embarrassment. Cipher is the one who erased my work history.” Her voice carried a bitter edge.

“What are the chances of that? Another lightning strike, right?” She shook herself slightly before continuing.

“And then he used that connection to plant spyware on my phone, which meant he always knew where Alyssa was.”

After a glance at Henner, May spoke next. “I became a target when I was working with AJ to locate a bomb. There was a military general being controlled by Cipher who was trying to move the device to a populated area.”

Sophie’s voice was quiet when she added, “I’m one of the few people capable of decoding his puzzles and cryptograms. He’s not my biggest fan.”

Steele took over once again. “It took us a while to figure out the connections. But the pattern became clear eventually.”

Con leaned forward. “The thing is, they’re all safe because there are protocols in place, and we have rules.” He fixed his gaze on Izzy. “The reason you’re safe right now is because Steele followed those rules.”

“Did you know Cipher was targeting me?” she asked.