Page 17

Seventeen

I met up with the rest of my team in the conference room. With Brodie injured, Campy on leave, and Caiyan in the wind, it left Gerry, Tina, Ace, and me to defend the world. I’d leave the world to them. I only wanted to save Marco.

“Hiya, hotcakes,” Gerry said as I walked toward the beverage cart.

“Morning, y’all.”

Ace had his legs propped in the chair next to him and sawed violently at a hangnail. He paused his filing. “Hey, hon, how’s it going?”

“It’s going.” I grabbed a bottle of water and joined him at the table. I wanted another coffee with double sugar and lots of cream, but I held back. The extra caffeine would make me edgy, and the jump did that all by itself.

“Did ya hear about Brodie?” Gerry groaned. “The dumbshit couldn’t leave well enough alone. He messed up his leg again.”

“I heard he took a fall off a horse and reinjured his leg,” I said.

Tina looked worried. “We’re running out of defenders.”

“I’m tired of chasing those Crackys. They’re nothin’ but a bunch of drunk losers.” Gerry’s gaze lifted, and he spoke to someone behind me. “Hey, cookie, can ya bring me one of those donuts?”

I glanced over my shoulder. Fredericka stood in the doorway, her hair pulled back in a knot, the dark liner back around her eyes, red devil lips, and head-to-toe leather. The Lara Croft to my Nancy Drew.

She frowned at Gerry. “Get it yourself, Munchkin.”

“That’s hurtful. It’s hard getting on and off these chairs. You got a thing against little people?”

Fredericka walked to the table. “No. I have a thing against foul-mouthed, Old Spice-wearing, weak-minded, womanizing bigots.”

“Jeez.” Gerry scrunched his nose at her. “Who shit in your shoes this morning?”

I looked down at her shoes. Black Valentino combat boots with metal studs. Gerry probably didn’t want one of those up his ass.

“I’ll get it.” Tina slid out of her seat, mumbling, “He doesn’t wear Old Spice.”

Fredericka knocked Ace’s feet out of the chair and sat next to me.

“What are you doing here, love?” Ace scowled at Fredericka. “This isn’t your normal turf.”

“None of your business.” Fredericka turned her back on Ace. He stuck his thumb on his nose and wiggled his fingers at her.

Gerry gave a snort-laugh.

She ignored him, leaned toward me. “Have you heard anything about the jump?”

“Not a thing.” Except Jake wants me to lure my lover into my outhouse and capture him like some crazed Disney villain. If only I had a poisoned apple available. Maybe I should check with the gypsy from my last trip to Nassau.

“We’ll find him.” Fredericka squeezed my forearm.

She thought I was worried about Marco. I was, but I was more concerned Jake would send her to Nassau and leave me playing catch the Scot.

Tina placed a plate of chocolate-iced donuts in front of Gerry, then returned to her chair.

“Thanks, short stuff.” Gerry winked at Tina, then looked around the table. “Does anyone know why Agent McCoy is being so secret-spy this jump?”

I had an idea, but I wasn’t going to voice it out loud. The other transporters might be jealous of me if they knew I was traveling to help Marco and following such an important brigand as Mortas.

“He’s been so tight-lipped lately.” Ace pressed his lips together and released them with a loud pop !

“He’s been as tight-lipped as a barnacle on a boat hull,” Tina said. “But I am glad Fredericka is here. It’s not easy when we need to use transporters to do the defender jobs.”

If she only knew the half of it.

“Poor Marco, staying through a moon cycle and in such an unpleasant time,” Ace shuddered. “The pirate’s stench is such that it stays in your schnoz for a week. I can’t imagine having to live there for an entire month. As soon as the moon cycle opens, I’m positive he’ll come back.”

Wishful hoping on Ace’s part. Something had gone wrong. There was a reason Marco sent that chest. A reason why we didn’t save him this jump. A reason I didn’t understand yet, but I’d be damned if I let it happen again. Or, in my case, happen at all.

Fredericka picked up a number 2 pencil, sharpened to precision, and pointed it at a round digital clock hanging on the wall. “What’s that?” one minute, thirty seconds remained on the screen.

Gerry twisted around and looked up at the clock. “That’s the new countdown timer. Lets us know exactly how many hours, minutes, and seconds until we put our lives in jeopardy again.”

I prayed with all the saints and promises I knew that when the clock struck zero, Marco would walk through the door.

Everyone watched in silence as it counted down to the last second and then flipped to a digital full moon.

“Fancy,” Ace noted.

Fredericka frowned up at the moon. “It’s like a werewolf’s alarm clock.”

“You’d know, Tootsie.” Gerry shoved the last bite of donut into his mouth as Fredericka’s pencil plunged into his hand.

“You bitch!” Gerry grabbed the pencil, yanked it free. Blood spurted from the wound, and I felt a little lightheaded.

Tina grabbed napkins and pressed them against Gerry’s hand. “Let’s go to the infirmary. You’re going to need a tetanus shot.” She held his hand in the air and rushed him out of the room.

“He won’t need a tetanus for a pencil,” Ace puffed, then returned to sawing back and forth on his fingernail like a farrier on an overgrown horse’s hoof. “I hate that they order us here before the morning cock-a-doo , only to sit on our arses for hours waiting on the brigand to jump. I don’t see the bloody sense in it.”

I couldn’t do anything but stare at the door, hoping.

“He’s not coming.” Fredericka wiped blood off the table with her napkin. “Do we have a plan?”

I paused. There was no we . Jake couldn’t send both of us. Transporters remained on base until summoned by their defenders unless General Potts approved extenuating circumstances.

“If Marco doesn’t return, and Jake sends me,” I added to throw Fredericka off my already anticipated jump, “I plan to dress as a male. Try to get on board Vane’s ship and rescue Marco.”

Fredericka narrowed her eyes. “What about Sasha?”

“Don’t worry, Freddy, Marco won’t leave without your twin sissy. He’s got the hots for her.” Ace’s last words made my stomach go queasy.

Fredericka chose another pencil and pointed it at Ace. “Don’t ever call me Freddy.”

Ace inched his chair away from hers.

Fredericka turned toward me. “I’ll dress like a man too. Will be easier for me to hide my chest.”

I looked down at my breasts. They weren’t enormous but wouldn’t be as easy to hide as Fredericka’s small handfuls. I’d posed as a Civil War soldier. Although, the thick military uniform helped hide the girls.

“Sorry, hon, she’s got you there.” Ace waved his nail file at my chest. “You’ll have a bloody hard time hiding those boobies in one of those thin linen lace-up jobbies.”

Jeez. I’d rely on my outhouse to help me transform into a boy. I’d already studied a picture on the internet of a young pirate I planned to imitate.

We waited an hour. I paced the room. Marco hadn’t returned. Fear that Fredericka was right, he wasn’t coming, settled in my gut like a truckload of tacks.

I ate five donuts.

No. Marco.

I drank more coffee.

The moon clock didn’t make a sound, but I heard the ticking of every second in my head. It matched my heartbeat. Marco wasn’t coming back, and every minute counted.

Jake entered the room. “Hello, team.” As usual, he moved to the front of the room and placed his laptop on the table. He clicked on a few keys. The world map appeared on the video screen at the front of the room. He turned and looked at us. “Where are Gerry and Tina?”

“Small mishap with a pencil,” I explained. “They’ve gone to the infirmary.”

“Hope they get done quickly. The Cracky clan jumped, and General Potts wants Tina to accompany Gerry.”

Dammit. One less transporter on base. “Why?” My heart rate escalated with my impatience.

“Pickles predicted they might have a passenger to bring home. The general wants Tina on site. I’ll catch up with them later.” Jake turned to me. “No surprise, Marco didn’t return. And, as predicted, Mortas jumped to Nassau, 1718.”

“I can handle it.” Fredericka spouted off before I voiced my confidence in taking on the mission.

“I was going to send—” Jake stopped at the sound of footsteps echoing down the hallway.

Everyone turned toward the door. General Potts entered, followed by four armed guards. These weren’t the men in suits who worked with Jake. These guys were muscled-up, military-grade, raw meat-eating, ex-guerilla-warfare Gitmo guards.

Jake shot to his feet. “General, what’s going on?”

“At ease, agent.” He motioned for Jake to step aside. Jake took a step back.

The general, a sturdy man with broad shoulders and short military-cut steel gray hair, strode to the front of the room. He cleared his throat, which I’d learned over the years was his tell. His constant throat clearing before he barked orders made me think a hostile takeover was imminent.

“I’m here about the Nassau jump. It has come to my attention that we already have a defender in the field. I’m ordering you three to remain on base.”

“Stay on base?” My chair scraped, nails on chalkboard, against the tile floor as I sprang to my feet and snapped hands on hips. “We don’t have a defender in the field. Marco hasn’t returned. He’s in trouble. One of us should be allowed to go help him.”

And by one of us, I meant me.

“Miss Cloud, I’m aware of all your shenanigans and the fact that you rarely follow orders. I’m taking precautions to prohibit your interference in this mission. You and your consorts.”

“Precautions?” Jake asked before I could, his tone unsteady. “What precautions?”

“Arrest them.” The general pointed at the three of us.

Fredericka bolted to her feet. “What is the meaning of this?”

“I have a defender in the field. One that doesn’t need you transporters messing it up.” The general did more throat-clearing. “You’ll be held under guard until this moon cycle has completed.”

The guards moved around the table, pointing their guns. Jake looked as dumbfounded as the rest of us.

“You don’t understand.” I moved toward the general. His pot belly put a barrier between us. “Marco is going to be hanged and gibbeted if I don’t go back and help him.”

“Mr. Ferrari signed the contract. Putting one’s life on the line to serve our beloved country is part of the job.”

“Fine. Let me put my life on the line. Let me save Marco.”

“Not this time.” He gave a two-fingered motion toward the guards. “Lock them up.”

Jake stepped in front of me. “General Potts, I think?—”

“Agent McCoy, unless you want to lose your job, I believe you have other travelers to get on with their mission.”

I turned to Jake. He stood motionless. Then, as if shot with a syringe of the General Potts Kool-Aid, he nodded. “Yes, sir.”

My mouth dropped to the floor like some Looney Toons character. I stood firm and looked at Jake. When his gaze dropped to the floor, I poked a finger at the air and spoke in a tone I’d describe as psycho-possessed. “This is why Marco died. No one went back to help him. You killed him. All of you.”

The guard grabbed my arm and tried to pull me toward the door. I kicked him in the shin. He pinned me to the table.

The general went all squinty-eyed. “Miss Cloud, if you don’t cooperate, I have given the men permission to shoot you. In the leg or the arm. Not anywhere fatal, but I imagine it would still hurt.”

“Jen, for fuck’s sake, follow orders.” Jake motioned to the guards to take us away.

Jake, who I’d spent the morning with, drinking coffee and hugging congratulations, was stabbing me so deep in the back his knife scraped my sternum. I stopped the useless struggle and just before the guard jerked me from the room, I sent Jake my most hateful, how could you hostile stare.