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CHAPTER ONE
Heather Slade crouched in the dark at the back of a sparring club deep beneath Capital City, Patriot Union. She timed her exhales with the rattle and clanging of the metal circulatory system of pipes that ran across the club’s ceiling. She’d broken into the gym over an hour before the place opened to wait silently for her prey. The large ring on her thumb, which looked like any ordinary twenty-thousand-crypto diamond, was really a device that relayed off the minicamera she’d placed at the tunnel’s entrance. She would have about thirty seconds to prepare once he started walking in. Pulling her midnight-blue hoodie down over her hair, she prepared to attack.
A dark figure made his way through the dimly lit tunnel and down the steps toward her. Her wait was over. Dressed in sweats and carrying a workout bag, he moved like a cat, confident of his skills and training, commanding respect with every step. He was tall, towering a good six inches over her, with a muscular frame and thick arms that looked like they could snap her like a twig. But she’d been trained, too, and was used to taking out opponents twice her size. The trick? Surprise attack like a mother and fight dirty.
She held her breath when he lifted the bars off the door and stepped inside the club. She didn’t twitch a muscle when he turned off the burglary-deterrent laser beams and flipped on the lights. He was three strides past her hiding spot and still she held steady. When his running shoes were two inches from the wrestling mats, she leapt into the air and slid feet-first into the bends of his knees. His legs buckled with the impact. She jumped on his back, driving him downward. Air whooshed out of his mouth in a groan when he hit the wrestling mat. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pinning his twig-snapping arms with her hands.
Victory!
She touched her lips to his ear and whispered, “I could’ve killed you a thousand ways by now, Hammer.”
“Right,” he said, with a chuckle.
Silly men. They always discounted her abilities.
“You didn’t even sense my presence,” she said smugly. “Just walked right on by. Not a clue.”
“You think I didn’t know you were here?” His signature gravelly voice held notes of merriment.
That gave her pause. Did he know she was there?
He flipped over faster than she would have believed possible and pulled her on top of him, and now they were face-to-face. His chest rose and fell slowly beneath her. He wasn’t winded at all. In fact, she was breathing harder than he was. That really ticked her off.
He lifted her hand. “Nice to see you kept the ring I gave you.”
“Still works.”
“Still looks good on you.”
She pulled her hand away. “You didn’t know I was here.”
“No? You were in that hidey-hole for forty-two minutes. I thought I’d give you a break and come on in to see what you had on your mind.”
“Wait.” Her cheeks heated. “Are you tracking me?”
His lips lifted at the corners. “What do you think?”
She slapped his hard chest. “Stop it! I didn’t ask I-Q-T to do that. I can take care of myself.”
“Is that right? Your kill device was triggered on the last mission. A few seconds later and we wouldn’t be having this wrestling match! So, yeah, I’m tracking you. Sue me.”
His words were gruff, but there was a softness to his face that she had never seen before.
“That wasn’t my fault! I got waylaid en route to the target zone last time. I wasn’t even late. And the mission was accomplished. I haven’t failed an infiltration yet.”
“I know it wasn’t your fault. And you were a badass out there, no question. But, hell, Slade . . .” He lowered his voice. “You scared me.”
“That’s impossible, Hammer. Nothing scares you.” She got off of him and offered her hand to help him up.
He took her hand and held it too long after he rose to his feet. “I was scared.”
She walked away because she didn’t want him to care. No one should. They saw each other on occasion and had spent a few nights together that she didn’t regret, but they both had jobs to do. Neither one of them should get distracted, because caring too much could get assets killed. They both knew the risks.
“What else did you hear?” she asked, walking to the punching bag area.
She needed to work out some of the nerves that had been plaguing her since the last mission. Truth be told, she’d been worried too. Her kill device had never gone off like it did at the end of her last mission. She’d survived extreme pain before but didn’t want to make a habit of it.
He offered her a set of boxing gloves in her size. “I hear a lot.”
Yes, he did. Hammer was the Chief Intelligence Officer at I-Q-T—the intelligence and technology branch of the Coalition. He worked mostly at Headquarters. Heather liked to think of the group as a team of Qs from that old spy series that she used to enjoy watching in the HQ library. Hammer was better than Q, but she was no 007.
She took the camera ring off and put it in her pocket.
“There’s a lot about the last mission that doesn’t add up. Why were there so many Patriot Defenders on the train?” she asked as he held the bag for her and she punched. Right. Left. Right. “It felt off to me the whole time. Like they were expecting something to happen.” Left, right. Right. “And then the bodies on the track. Who put them there? Was it a message or was someone trying to stop me from reaching the safe zone in time?” Kick. Spin. Kick.
He did his best to hold the bag still. “My answers? I don’t know what the Patriots were afraid of. They’re a squirrelly bunch of jackasses. And, no, we did not put those bodies on the track. Far too dramatic, in my opinion. To answer your last question . . .” he paused. “Maybe.”
She stopped punching and stared at him. “It was a message? Or someone was trying to kill me?”
“Inconclusive.” His expression was grim. “I agree that forces were working against you.”
“Huh.” She chewed her lip. Her gut had been right.
“Huh is all you’ve got? You could have been killed, Slade.”
She punched the bag, thinking. “How about the other asset on the train? What can you tell me about him?” she asked, hoping to God that Hammer would give her something to go on.
She’d been trying to recall the partner who’d helped her get Señora Pérez and her daughter to safety. All she could retrieve from her memories was a shadowy figure by her side. No face, no voice, no name. All she had tucked away in her head was: Food. Diplomat. Find him. Which meant that the asset was crucial and she had to find out why.
“He’s a newbie,” Hammer said. “The train mission was his first, but I wonder about his agenda. That’s all I can say.”
“What’s his name?”
He eyed her. “I’m not giving you that, Slade. They erased him from your memory for a reason.”
“Come on, Hammer. You know I’ll find out who he is.”
“Yeah? I’m not going to help you in that pursuit. It’s against protocol. You need to steer clear of him.”
“Are those orders from HQ?”
“Nope. Just a hunch from a nerdy IT guy.” He shook the boxing bag at her. “You doing this workout, or are we going to stand around and gab like girls?”
“Only one of us punches like a girl.” She kicked the bag hard, hoping to knock him backward. He caught it easily.
“Why do you question his agenda?” she asked.
His expression was dark, as if he knew something he couldn’t share.
“Hammer, I need to know.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, but I do, okay? I have this feeling that he has the answers I need.”
He scrubbed his jaw. “Related to your cover? Or…from before?”
Hammer knew she was searching for clues to her past. Who was she before the war? What side had she been on: the right one? Or the Patriots’ side? No one seemed to know.
She shrugged. “Both?”
He let out a soft groan. “The newb almost got you killed.”
That didn’t sound right. Why would she have told herself to find the asset if he’d tried to kill her?
“How?” she asked.
“You all were getting off the train, the asset said. Taking the package into the woods, he’d said.” Hammer’s voice was a low rumble. “We sent teams to locate you on the ground, searching the most dangerous territory in the Union. We burned time that could’ve been used to get you to the target zone safely. The asset didn’t call off the search teams until you were already down at the check-in zone. Too late, far too late. Your kill device triggered on you, Slade.”
“I know. I kinda felt that.”
“It’s not funny, Slade.” The muscle in his jaw flexed, and he ground out the next words. “I’m not sure if that damned asset is friend or foe, but I will find out.”
I will find out? Hammer was taking this far too personally. She frowned. “Wait. We were getting off the train! It was my idea. I remember that. The pile of bodies on the tracks was wired with enough boom to blow us all into the next life. I asked”—she struggled to dredge up a name from her mind and couldn’t even produce a first initial—“him…to find the route while I set fire to the evidence. At the last second, the tracks were cleared and we stayed on board. We had to hustle to get off and run to the Canadian Embassy. No time to give you the revised plan, that’s all.”
Only part of her answer felt like a lie.
His mouth opened, shut. “You were going to set Blockwell’s golden train on fire?” He was grinning now. “Ballsy, Slade. I like that about you.”
“My partner, Agent…um…” She paused again, hoping his name would pop up from her locked memory files. She shook her head. Nothing. “He and I made it in time. It was our contact, the Canadian at the target zone, who’d left early. I’d question his agenda. Not…” she tried to force the name again. Nothing. “Not my guy.”
Hammer cocked his dark eyebrow. “Your guy?”
She stepped away from the bag. “You know what I mean.”
“Heather, I’m not going to break protocol and tell you anything more about him. I don’t trust that guy. He’s dangerous. Hell, Slade, leave it alone.” His voice had a bit more gravel to it than usual. It was as if he was grinding his teeth on the words.
“Dangerous? You don’t know that.”
“Shit.” He came around the bag and stood before her. He tucked a strand of her brown, wavy hair behind her ear. “Is that why you brought me here? To find him?”
She smiled, hoping to throw him off the scent. She didn’t believe that Agent What’s-His-Name was dangerous for her. In her line of work, she trusted only one person—Heather Slade—and that agent had given her a secret message: Food. Diplomat. Find him.
“Of course not. I needed to kick someone’s ass and burn off a little steam. Plus, I was hoping you brought toys in that workout bag of yours,” she said. “I need to put in my order for the best that you’ve got, Hammer.”
Deep crease lines formed across his brow, and he held up his finger to silence her. He pulled a tiny listening device blocker out of his pocket and popped it open. It was unnecessary. The sparring club was deep underground, which made it difficult to listen in from street level. Plus, she’d already swept the place for bugs. It was clean.
“What’s the mission?” he asked, leaning in close.
“Infiltration. Again.” She looked him in the eye and tried not to telegraph her fear. “They’re sending me inside the Inner Circle.”
“Shit. Who’s going in with you?”
“No one. I’m alone.”
She didn’t add like always.
End of Excerpt
