Jim grabbed the waterproof sack and slung the strap over his head, the small shovel still primed to strike.
Derek inhaled. “It’s close.”
“I know.” Jim felt the presence, indistinguishable but definitely there. “Keep moving, but go slow.” He couldn’t take his gaze off the jungle.
Then between the fronds and branches, nearly blending into the foliage, he saw it.
One golden-brown eye stared back at him.
Riley watched his sister approach, smiling. In her forties, she had the beam of a good life radiating from her, and he wished he knew her secret. Her passion about her work eluded Riley. He was a little jaded now, he got that, but while one mission nearly killed him, another nasty mess had the CIA kissing ass any way they could. It left Dragon One not only debt free, but at their disposal. Riley wasn’t keen on that. He trusted very few and the Company wasn’t even in the running. From his experience, they lacked a decent moral center.
As she neared, Bridget pulled her frayed slouch hat low. It was one of his old desert booney covers from his tour in the Marines. She was never without it considering she had the hair and skin of a true Irish lass. Fair and freckled. Even a tube of sunscreen hung from a belt loop on her shorts.
“Thanks for humoring them,” she said, inclining her head toward the island.
“It gives me a break from that heavy metal noise Derek is so fond of.”
She rolled her eyes. “Try living with that every day.”
She was referring to his nephews who enjoyed head banging music. It just gave Riley a headache. “You really don’t need me here, Bri.” After two weeks, he was little more than an extra pair of hands.
She glanced, blue eyes soft with concern. “Getting antsy?”
“Not really, but security on a research ship?”
“I wanted you near me, Riley. I missed you.” She leaned her head on his shoulder and he swept his arm around her waist. With four sisters, she’d practically raised him, letting him tag along as a kid. He’d probably be dead on the streets of Belfast if it wasn’t for her, but he knew this went deeper. It had taken him two years to recover from a mission that put him in a coma along with several broken bones and a gunshot to the chest that barely missed his heart and lungs. According to his buddies, he’d drowned, but he barely remembered any of it.
“Your job attracts the wrong sort of people. Why do you insist on chasing such danger—” She stopped herself, let out a breath, then said, “I worry…we all do. I thought this might be a nice break.”
And show him a different life, he thought. He was wise to his sister. “You’re hoping I won’t go back to Dragon One? It’s my job. I can’t freeload off you forever.”
She cocked her head, a hand on her hip. “Do you know what an electrician makes in the states?”
“Yes I do, but installing lights isn’t as rewarding. Besides, I’ve been on a couple missions since then.”
“I know,” she snapped, then softened. “I know. But I keep seeing you in the hospital in traction, machines helping you breathe, tubes running everywhere. You’re lucky to be alive and I thank Logan for that. A doctor on sight saved you.”
He knew he owed Sam and Logan more than he could repay. “But I’ve got better equipment now.” He bent his knee, the surgical scars still plump against his tanned skin, but beneath the stitches were hydrogel kneecaps and titanium rods that replaced shattered bones. “Want to arm wrestle?” He flexed one bicep like Arnold.
She elbowed him. “Don’t tease. It was hard on us all.”
He squeezed her, pressing his lips to her temple. It was the first time she’d really spoken about it. “I’m sorry.” His family was close knit, and yet he was only just learning the effect his injuries had taken on the Donovan clan. His teammates were just as coddling. He put up with it because he wasn’t in any hurry to return to work and focused his attention on more leisurely activities these days.
“I’ll say this once—”
“Once? Since when?”
She crossed her eyes and made a face, then sobered, facing him. “Don’t take so many risks with your life…and I never thought I’d say this, but shoot first.”
He chuckled to himself. “Now there’s me Belfast girl.” She laughed, then her assistant called to her, and she moved away.
Riley checked his watch, waiting for signs of Jim and Derek. Then he heard his name and turned.
“You have a call.” Bridget clutched his satellite phone.
Riley tensed. No one but the team knew he was here.
“I was hoping there were no SATs in range for that to be of any use.” It wasn’t like this part of the world was a threat to humanity. There wasn’t anyone else around for nearly a thousand miles.
“Kate said it’s rung four times in the last hour.”
That can’t be good. Frowning, he took the phone, holding it to his chest. “Is it a female?”
“No, me handsome boy.” She patted his face. “It’s not.”
“Then you should have hung up.”
“Who left it turned on?” she said, already turning away and waving over her head.
He put the phone to his ear. “Riley Donovan isn’t available for at least another three weeks.”
“Really? Is she blond or brunette?”
Riley smiled.
“Neither,” he said to Sam. “A redhead, and we’re related. Don’t go there.”
Sam chuckled, then said, “Had enough sun and sea? Ready for work?”
“Not especially.” But he admitted he was bored silly.
“We have a hand me down job.”
Instantly Riley’s radar went up. “Whose?”
“The State Department, more specifically, the Bureau of Diplomatic Security.”
The law enforcement agency charged with the security of diplomats and just about anyone traveling abroad on State Department business, DS agents were assigned to a hundred-fifty-some foreign offices around the world. They used their diplomatic connections and with in-country police and Interpol, tracked and apprehended international fugitives who posed a threat to U.S. national security and dignitaries.
A heavy hitter, whoever they wanted to retrieve. After Venezuela, did the team really want to do anything remotely connected to government intelligence work again? One thing he knew for certain…“You’re two stepping, Sam, and I’m wondering what’s so bad that you can’t spit it out.”
He heard him sigh through the phone. “It’s Vaghn.”
For
