Shaking her head, she locked eyes with him. “My family has been messed up for a long time. It’s not a new issue for me. I don’t need to deal with it right now—or ever, for that matter. I’m good to go. I can start tomorrow.”
“You’re not good until you have a permanent solution. I can help you.”
She placed a hand on the table. “Lieutenant, I appreciate the offer but you need to understand that this is my personal business.” His eyes hardened so she softened her tone. “Relationships are complicated. I don’t understand why my mother stays with my father, but I’ve come to accept the fact that she’d rather die than leave him.”
He flinched and she realized she’d hit a nerve. Didn’t his mother commit suicide? She remembered that fact from the news coverage of his brother’s death.
“You asked me to trust you. You’re going to have to trust me that this is not an issue. I don’t need time to go deal with it. What I really need is to get to work.” Work was the only thing that kept her sane. She needed the order in her life.
He opened his mouth, then closed it. Desperate to move on, Alessa filled the silence. “Your turn to tell me something I don’t know, perhaps starting with why you need me to be your spy.”
Leaning back, he wove his hands into his hair. The creaking of his chair was the only sound in the room for several moments.
“If this is going to work, we need to trust each other,” she repeated quietly, as much for her own sake as his.
Finally, he unlocked his hands and placed them on the table.
“My brother Ethan isn’t dead. Someone in the army is holding him captive and I need your help to find him.”
IT WAS MADDENING. After his explosive announcement, Lieutenant Williams had been called away and Alessa had been assigned to a bed and instructed to get some sleep and report for duty at 0700. At least he’d relented on the one-week leave. Exhaustion eventually won over curiosity and she managed to get some good rest on a top bunk with a threadbare mattress.
She woke early and joined a group of soldiers on a predawn run. It was early spring, and after years in Kuwait she enjoyed the feel of cool, dewy air that smelled of flowers and grass rather than dirt and exhaust fumes. Reveille played around 0600. After ending her run, she went back to the barracks and took a shower and changed. She loved the routine, no matter where in the world she was.
“Sergeant Parrino.”
Rodgers was standing at the entrance to the warehouse she’d been instructed to report to. She almost didn’t recognize him because he wasn’t in army fatigues but was wearing jeans and a dark brown T-shirt that matched his hair and eyes.
A wave of disappointment hit her. She’d been expecting to see Lieutenant Williams. To find out why he thinks his brother is still alive. There was absolutely no other reason.
“Welcome to the unit. I’ll be giving you the tour and explaining the assignment.”
She nodded. “Thank you for going easy on me yesterday, Sergeant.” Rodgers was three years younger than her but the same rank. Experience had taught her that men didn’t like to be beaten by a woman and it was advantageous to put them at ease. A little trick she’d learned from her mother.
“I didn’t go easy on you. In fact, I gave it my best. You won fair and square, and I don’t mind admitting it.”
This is a first. “I appreciate that, Sergeant.”
“Call me Dylan or Rodgers. We’re equals. In fact, Luke isn’t into formalities—he wants us to call each other by first or last names. The point of this unit is to not follow our traditional training.”
“And why is that?” Despite her preparation for the assessment, she knew very little about the unit or its mission. Lieutenant Williams, Luke, had given her nothing. The papers she’d signed didn’t even have a designation for the unit.
“We are like secret internal investigators for the army,” Rodgers explained. “There have been some issues with treason, but we can’t seem to get to the root of the problem because we’re fighting an enemy within, one who knows how we work. There might even be some Special Forces involvement, which is why none of the unit members are Delta. Ethan started this no-rank business—he didn’t want the enemy to know how we operate, so first thing he wanted us to do was stop thinking like army grunts.”
Alessa couldn’t help but smile. She’d fit in perfectly.
“Did Ethan hire you?”
He nodded. “I was one of the first, so I’ve pretty much done all the jobs on this unit. You’re the sixth, but I understand you’re filling the logistics position.” He shot her a quizzical glance.
“Yes I am, Sergeant—I mean, Rodgers.”
“That makes no sense to me.”
She raised a brow. “Me neither. But it was either this or nothing at all.”
He shrugged. “My guess is it was Colonel McBride. Luke can’t stand up to him the way Ethan did.”
Aren’t you just a fountain of information. “How come?”
“He’s still feeling his way. Only got the gig because of General Williams. McBride wanted to put his own man in, so he’s looking for a reason to get rid of Luke. This unit was Ethan’s baby.”
“What’s your impression of Lieutenant...of Luke as a leader?”
Rodgers shrugged. “It’s too early to tell. He’s not his brother, that’s for sure, and that’s been hard on the unit. He looks just like Ethan, talks like him, but he’s a different man.”
“How so?”
“He’s not regulation army.”
“Didn’t you just say it’s not supposed to be?”
“Yeah, but he’s not an army man. The rest of us are here because we love the military, and we believe in the mission of this unit. Before Ethan died, he was lamenting the fact that Luke was quitting. So why take over his brother’s unit?”
“Because he wants to complete Ethan’s mission?”
Rodgers shook his head. “They weren’t tight like that. Anyhow, I’ve said too much to the newbie. Part of the training... We’ve been encouraged to fight our instincts. Do what doesn’t come naturally and be more transparent—whatever that means.”
He led her through a maze of boxes and random equipment, then opened a door to the area they’d been in yesterday. Luke wasn’t in his office. Rodgers stopped outside a door marked Men and went inside. Alessa followed.
“Heads-up.” Rodgers yelled, and Alessa averted her gaze as four men in various stages of undress quickly pulled on clothes and slapped on towels.
“This is Alessa Parrino.” He turned to her. “What do you prefer to be called?”
“Parrino is fine.”
“You the one who kicked his baby bottom yesterday?” one of the men asked.
Rodgers took it in stride. “Yep, so I’d watch myself if I were you guys. She’s mightier than she looks.”
Each of the men stood in turn and introduced