He stands, pushing the papers on the desk so they align. “I did.”

I leap out of my chair. “I can’t. You can’t be serious. I’m one of the best you have. You can’t let Al Mazir get weeks ahead of me.”

“You’re off his case. You need to take some time to get your head on straight. The operation went on too long. I should have taken you off when you got back with the hostage you found.” Tom strides out of the office, leaving me stunned.

He’s been my supervisor for five years, and I’ve never once been removed from a case. I know everything there is to know about Mazir. No one in this office could pick up where I left off. I have deep-seated contacts. This is a mistake. It has to be.

I rush after him but stop short.

“Hey, Charlie.” Vanessa stands before me, twisting her hands. I wish people would use the training we went through. I read her body language and the little nuances tell me she’s nervous.

“What can I do for you?” I look past her to see if Tom is at his desk. If he refuses to listen, I’ll go above his head.

She places her hand on my arm to bring my attention back to her. “I just wanted to say I’m really sorry about your dad. I know it’s been a while, but we haven’t had a chance to talk since it all happened.”

“Thanks.”

I don’t do small talk or fake empathy. My father was the most brilliant mind that ever worked for the CIA. He was an asset to this country, a patriot through and through. He gave his time, love, and devotion to this agency. Then he was brutally murdered and left for dead at the hands of Al Mazir. There’s no one in the entire world who wants Mazir more than I do.

“I know you still have a few more things to do with the debrief, but I’d like to go over the case file and really pick your brain.”

“Why?”

“Oh.” She shifts again. “Didn’t Tom tell you? I’m the new op on the case.”

I close my eyes and count to five to calm myself.

He wouldn’t.

He couldn’t.

Would he?

He did. Motherfucker . . . he did.

I need a vacation.

I look back at Vanessa, who now appears as if she’s gloating. “I can’t talk now. I need to just think, okay?”

She nods. “Sure thing.” Her smile grows before she walks off in the other direction.

Tom isn’t at his desk, my co-workers refuse to make eye contact, and my mind won’t stop spinning. None of this makes any sense. I’ve seen people do way worse than not gather one small piece of information and still be left on the case. Even though this “small” thing is really a large gaping hole, but that’s beside the point. I’ve invested so much time. I know the area, the locals, the entire backstory, and with the help of the ground operative there, I’m so close to figuring out where Mazir is. My asset has been guiding me, which has allowed me to monitor Mazir’s movements. The only thing I can think of is this is either personal or the agency doesn’t want me to uncover something.

Director Asher and I are going to have a meeting. There’s no way in hell I’ll just go quietly into the dark. My gut tells me there’s way more to this than meets the eye.

The phone rings at my desk.

“Hello,” I say, still trying to wrap my mind around being pulled from a case.

“Charlie?” I recognize the voice instantly. Mark Dixon. As if this day couldn’t get any more complicated.

“Hello, Mark. What can I possibly do for you?” I smile despite my shit mood. He and I had spent the entire flight home talking. He’s funny, sexy as hell, but more than that, he makes me feel alive—something I haven’t felt a lot since I lost my father. I worked with Mark for a week when we got back from Aaron’s rescue but it yielded nothing. Then I had to leave for Dubai to track an informant, and things returned to life as usual. We met a few times, but since then it hasn’t been anything regular.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to, princess.”

Good mood gone. “You want your balls in a vice? Call me princess again and see how fast I get to Virginia Beach and you lose them.”

“You just want to touch my balls,” he retorts. “Besides, maybe that’s my plan. Get you here.”

“If you had any.” I smirk.

I picture him leaning back in his chair, longish blonde hair pushed back, scruff painting his face, and his green eyes filled with mischief. Mark Dixon would bring any woman to her knees. Good thing I’m not just any woman. I think about the last time I saw him. It was when he came to DC with Aaron to talk. It’s not normal protocol, but after all Aaron went through, it was important. My handler urged me to help him through it, since no one else really could. It was really the first time I’ve ever had guilt over a mission.

“Anytime you want to play with my balls, you just call me.”

“Why did you call me?” I try to bring the conversation back on point. I have no idea what he could need.

He pauses. “We need your help.”

That had to take a lot for him to admit. “How so?”

“Another shipment of ammo was sent to Africa this time. It’s . . . well, missing. I personally set up that transport. I double-checked it. And some of my guys aren’t checking in on another op. Someone is still fucking with us, and I can’t seem to uncover it. Aaron made mention of something, and I thought of you.”

“I’m sure you think of me more than I think of you.”

He laughs. “Doubtful. I’m always on your mind.”

“Anyway,” I draw the word out. “What are you thinking?”

On the flight back with Aaron, I had overheard them speculating. There were too many variables that all seemed to lead back to the head of the company. Jackson Cole was a good man from what I observed, but red flags were everywhere.

First, they had issues in Afghanistan, which led to Aaron going there in the first place. Everyone but him was killed when his convoy was attacked. Then, when Jackson and Mark went to assess the incident, they were shot at. Jackson sustained life-threatening injuries and was flown out immediately. However, after following a few leads, nothing ended anywhere solid. Everyone checked out, so we let it go.

“Aaron mentioned a name,” he says cryptically. “Jackson wants this shit to stop. And to be honest, I do too. It doesn’t make sense, though. I’ve used all my contacts in the FBI and they say everyone within the company is clear. Nothing has surfaced or been suspicious. So, that leads me to think it’s someone outside my inner circle.”

It’s definitely a possibility, but what name would Aaron know? “Maybe, but why Cole Security Forces?”

“Why not? We’re all former SEALs, we’ve all killed, and we’ve all been involved at one time or another with taking out terrorists. Plus, we still do. We protect bases and take missions that others are too scared to accept. I mean, you can tell me where you’re confused on why they wouldn’t want to stop us.” His deep voice only grows deeper in his anger.

Before I can say anything, Tom walks by. “I gotta go. I’ll call soon.” I disconnect the call and run to save my career.

My phone has been ringing non-stop. My brother and mother won’t leave me alone. We all knew what my father did. He recruited me when he noticed I had a knack for the business. Now, it seems to be the excuse used for every mishap in our lives. Dominic didn’t get into the college he wanted because Dad was a spy and refused to move. Mom didn’t get the head of the last charity she was involved in because Dad was a spy and it wouldn’t look right. I’m not married because Dad was a spy and scared men away, which is totally untrue. It’s because the men I’ve dated are idiots.