The Final Secret. Cassie MilesЧитать онлайн книгу.
Noah wasn’t the sort of guy who gave up easily. “Tell me about him.”
“A private contractor and weapons dealer, he was questioned regarding the explosion that killed my team. More than anyone else, he knew our schedule and our plans. I hate to think that he betrayed my crew.”
“He wasn’t charged.”
And it wasn’t the first time that Warrick smooth talked his way out of trouble. “The investigation concluded that a local warlord was responsible.”
“You and Warrick were close.”
So close that they’d discussed marriage. She would never allow herself to be that vulnerable again. “I was stupid.”
He lowered himself into the chair beside the sofa. His gaze dropped, and he stared at her feet. Though she tried not to look down, she glanced. Her slacks were hiked up, and she could see her discolored ankle. The swollen flesh bulged over the top strap of her sandal.
“One of the guys downstairs is a medic,” Noah said. “He could take a look at your injury.”
“It’s only a sprain.”
“How do you know?”
She’d had enough broken bones to know when she had one. “I’ve been putting weight on my leg and it hasn’t buckled. If I get the injury iced and wrapped with a bandage, I’ll be fine.”
“I have an assignment for you on Saturday,” he said. “If you’re not one hundred percent by then, I need to know.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now, I want the rest of your story. Three years ago, you were injured in Afghanistan. According to the medical report, you had several broken bones and a concussion.”
“That’s correct.”
“I don’t need to know the medical procedures you’ve undergone, but I want the results. You have a disability.”
Due to the concussion, damaged bones, a hematoma and extensive nerve damage, her left upper arm and certain muscles in both legs were numb. Ongoing programs of therapy and workouts had improved her condition. She passed her fitness tests with high marks, but there was one problem...not a problem, really, an anomaly.
She lifted her chin and confronted him directly. “In about thirty percent of my body, I can’t feel pain.”
“Noah, are you sure it isn’t too soon to have Gennie in the field?”
“I’m positive.” He stared at the face on his cell phone’s screen. Today, Anna Rose Claymore—the founder of ARC Security—wore her blue-streaked hair twisted in a bun atop her head. Her huge glasses had blue-and-pink-polka-dot frames. She looked several years too young to be the grandma of four—a phenomenon she attributed to being a full-fledged, dedicated nerd.
“Gennie Fox joined us only four days ago.”
“You don’t usually pay so much attention to field operations,” he said. Anna Rose ran the cyber-crime division and generally stayed at her multiscreen array of computers. “What’s up?”
“Gennie’s condition fascinates me. She’s like a comic book heroine whose superpower is being invulnerable to pain.”
“And I’d advise you to never tell her that. She’s not the type of woman who’d be complimented by a starring role in a comic.”
“Ah, well, I guess that’s my dream,” Anna Rose said. “Is Gennie’s sprain healed?”
“She’s keeping her ankle wrapped, but our doctor gave her an okay for full activity. Yesterday, I saw her running on the treadmill without a limp. She’s done well at every test we’ve come up with. Her marksmanship ranks at an expert level. She excels in hand-to-hand combat, and she understands our electronic equipment. Her greatest skill—one that can’t be measured—is her ability to work well with the others on the team.”
“Like I’ve said before, I approve of your decision to hire her. Gennie is remarkable and has contacts with people who might hire us.”
He heard an unusual sour note in her voice. “What’s troubling you?”
“It’s not about Gennie.” Above her glasses, her forehead scrunched with worry. “There’s something off about this fund-raising event at General Haymarket’s mansion. Why did he request a sweep of his house and grounds looking for explosives? He wants a metal scanner and ordered extra agents, including a sniper on the roof. Has our favorite general taken a deep dive into the paranoia pond?”
“I hope he’s not losing it. He sends a lot of business our way.”
“Send me a revised guest list,” she said. “I’ll check backgrounds and look for clues.”
“Consider it done.”
Noah ended the call and stepped back to watch as Gennie and other ARC field agents performed the pre-event security check at this palatial home southwest of Denver. The guest list that Anna Rose wanted would include the names of billionaires, high-ranking military personnel and influential executives. They’d allocated a good chunk of change for the privilege of attending this political event and were scheduled to start arriving in about an hour. During the silent auction, they’d drink artisan beer and whiskey from a local distillery. In keeping with the “Buy Colorado” theme, this elite group would chow down on stuffed mushrooms, venison, rattlesnake canapés and other regionally sourced delicacies arrayed on buffet tables.
Noah would have preferred a sit-down dinner where his team could easily keep an eye on the two hundred or so attendees. Instead, ARC needed to prepare for a roomful of Type-A personalities, accompanied by their equally aggressive spouses, all of whom would be competing in the auction, stating political views and matching wits. Even if there was no gunplay or exploding bombs, so much could go wrong.
For a moment, the red-and-gold glow of sunset flashed outside the west windows and distracted him. Beautiful and dangerous, the brilliant April skies were an omen that hinted at the onset of fire season. Instead of considering the potential for disaster, he focused on Gennie, noting her confident manner as she glided among the small circular tables in the center of the high-ceilinged, marble-floored ballroom. Her injured ankle didn’t seem to bother her, and he figured she was wearing a compression wrap under her ankle-high boots that were low-heeled but classy. She looked like a million bucks in a form-hugging black jumpsuit and a patterned black-and-beige cashmere vest that was long enough to cover her holstered weapon.
She paused in her inspection of the tables. With a toss of her head that sent a ripple through her curly blond hair, she glanced over her shoulder and met his gaze. He nodded in her direction and reminded himself to keep a careful distance from this woman who was as beautiful as a Rocky Mountain sunset. Another harbinger of danger! Getting involved with an employee would be a seriously dumb decision, but there was no harm in scrutinizing her every move. That was his job.
From over his shoulder, he heard a gruff voice. “I never expected to see Captain Genevieve Fox in my home.”
“General Haymarket.” Noah shook hands with the vigorous older gentleman who was hosting this event. Haymarket was dressed in slacks and a striped golf shirt that stretched tightly across his barrel chest. He looked comfortable. The casual outfit suited him better than the dress uniform he’d be changing into before the event. Whether or not he was paranoid, this four-star general had paid his dues and put in his time. He was due for retirement.
“Did Gennie use me for a reference?” he asked.
“No, sir, she didn’t.”
“Are you aware that I have a history with her?”
She’d spoken to him about her complicated relationship