Seconds to Sunrise Read online

  Of course he had. Nothing got past James. He stilled. “Would you rather I left?”

  “No.” And she ate her forkful as proof.

  “Alright.” He focused back on his food. “But I might be more comfortable on my feet with a plate in my hands. Can’t think of the last time I sat across from a pretty woman in a fine restaurant.”

  She forgot how to use the fork again. If the flattery was meant to put her at ease, it wasn’t working. “I doubt that.” A man with James’s looks, wit and physicality wouldn’t need to eat solo often.

  “You’d understand if you saw my calendar.” He took a drink and his hand blocked his eyes so she couldn’t see if the hint of sadness in his voice was mirrored there. When his face was revealed again, he wore a neutral, unreadable expression.

  “There’s no Mrs. Simon?” She hadn’t seen his file as he had hers, but reading him hadn’t indicated any wife.

  “I wouldn’t want to disappoint anyone.” Only a glint of the wit shined through. He was serious.

  She probed deeper. “Or a standing date with the woman who runs your accounting department? Pencil skirt and a crisp blouse.”

  He smiled sadly. “I do my own accounting.”

  As did she.

  They resumed eating. She tried to let the bold flavors wake her up, but they couldn’t shake her out of her solitude. Her thoughts continued to churn. She couldn’t just let go and enjoy the moment. The dinner was fake, a date between two fabricated people. It called into question the little connections she and James had established. All part of the act? He was much more experienced with these scenarios and could just be doing his job while she was being tossed about on a stormy sea.

  There were no more distractions after their food was finished and the plates cleared. James stayed still, one hand on the table, one under it, eyes always scanning the surroundings. Any second, commandos could come swinging in the windows, and she knew he’d be ready. Exhaustion and energy tumbled through her. The day had been so long, so full of terror and confusion and anger and motion. But she had to be alert. She had no idea what was next.

  “We have to get you to bed.” James’s voice was free of seduction, yet a wave of nervous anticipation rushed through her. The waiter arrived with dessert options, which they declined, and James requested the check.

  Once they were alone again, she asked, “You sure there aren’t any more surprises today?”

  “One never knows.” He spread out his hands. “But that doesn’t mean we tighten up and wait for disaster.” His credit card was ready when the check arrived so there’d be no waiting. “Good meal, good sleep, good day tomorrow.”

  His deep voice was almost hypnotizing. The fatigue dragged deeper into her. “It’s not always that simple.” Even when she kept her own life ordered and contained, the hail of emotions from the past, or worries about the future, would still arrive unexpected.

  He adjusted his jacket. The weapons weren’t visible, but she knew they were there. Just like the deeper secrets she saw him carrying.

  Simon disappeared for a moment as James looked at her. “We know that.”

  The check came back, he signed off and tipped his head to ask if she was ready. Would her tired legs be able to get her walking once again? Somehow she stood and walked in a straight line out of the restaurant. James remained at her side, careful and protective. Emotions wore raw under her fatigue. She held back tears as they crossed the lobby toward the elevator. Who had stood by her like this? All of her support had been from online friends, her family in the distance. To have someone this close and ready with her revealed how long it had been.

  If James saw how she was reacting, he didn’t say anything. The intimacy of the dinner table disappeared in the more public space. He was back on the alert. She collected herself and took in their surroundings as well. Two of the women from the bar sat in the lobby, talking privately on a small couch. The man behind the front desk glanced at them, the front doors, then down at his computer. Otherwise, all was quiet.

  The wait was short at the elevator, giving her just enough time to see how tired she looked in her reflection. James showed no signs of wear throughout their ascent. He walked briskly down their hall and unlocked the door for her. It closed, heavy, and it rattled her. They were alone again.

  He picked up the chair from the desk and lodged it under the door handle. “Habit,” he explained when he saw her watching. “I don’t think we’re in any danger.”

  But for her, everything was dangerous.

  “I’ll take the bed closer to the door.” He unclipped a sheathed knife from his belt at the small of his back and tossed it to the pillows. “Bathroom’s yours first.”

  There was no sense in arguing or negotiating. She was ready to get out of her contacts and go horizontal for a while. She dug through her suitcase, found her toiletries and closed herself in the bathroom. Contacts out, glasses on. She spent as little time in the uncompromising lighting as possible.

  Back in the room, she realized she hadn’t thought to pack anything specific to sleep in. Her usual mental lists to account for anything she might need broke down when it came to overnights with British special forces operatives. A T-shirt and yoga pants would have to do. She didn’t change until James took his turn in the bathroom. Water ran, and she imagined him washing his face and hands, perfectly awake and refreshed.

  By the time he emerged, she was under her covers and sinking into the mattress. He flicked off the bathroom light and darkened the entire room. Her eyes adjusted and gathered what city light came through the perimeter of the curtains to see him remove his jacket and boots and lay them next to the bed. Hard plastic rasped against rigid fabric, chilling her. He’d pulled his pistol from the shoulder holster. It tapped lightly when he set it on his bedside table, like a scorpion walking across a tiled floor.

  “Habit again?” she asked, keeping her voice even.

  “I don’t anticipate trouble.” He stretched himself out on his bed, still wearing his shirt and jeans. “But I hate surprises.”

  “Then you know how I’ve felt all day.” If she thought about it too much, the fight-or-flight would kick back in again, and she wouldn’t get any sleep.

  “It was eye-opening for me, too.” He chuckled, raspy. “Get your rest.”

  “Shifts?” He had a gun on the table and a knife under his pillow. She had a...flashlight.

  He dismissed her gently. “Not necessary.” He took a long breath that ushered her further into her fatigue. “I’m a light sleeper.”

  “A professional,” she slurred.

  “That I am,” he whispered.

  She wasn’t. He’d had an answer for every twist and turn, and she was still trying to catch up. She was so inexperienced that she’d let her unexpected attraction to him get into her bloodstream, while he remained as cool as stainless steel. Sleep continued to drag her into the mattress. Tomorrow, she’d wake up with more control over herself and the situation. He was a soldier, and she was critical to the mission. That was all. She was a fool to think of anything else. But it had been so damn long since she’d been foolish.

  Chapter Five

  The night had passed without interruption, and James woke fully before the dawn. April continued to sleep, head on one pillow, arms clutching another. Her legs twitched periodically. Was she chasing someone or running away? He wasn’t going to wake her and find out. She needed all her rest and strength. Yesterday had taken it out of her. He’d watched the weariness drag her down at the end of the night. But he gave her credit for keeping the motor running until then. She’d been mostly alert through dinner and had run with the ridiculous scenario he’d set up on the fly as their cover.

  He leaned over the bed and retrieved his phone from his jacket. No new messages from Automatik. He’d hoped the cyber team was going to locate the hackers a
s he and April slept, giving them a strong target to follow in the morning. Instead, they were back to chasing thin leads at the CPA firm.

  And he’d be back in her perceptive gaze. Through dinner, she’d drawn him out more than he’d expected. But she didn’t know it was like digging at the edges of a buried landmine. Territory she shouldn’t be in. He’d seen her past pain during the meal and how the isolation had dug into her. The woman deserved to be happy, chasing whatever food and sights she could collect in those countries across the globe.

  He rose and took his pistol and bag of clothes into the bathroom. A fan turned on with the light, both grating. Better than the mood lighting in the restaurant. Her face had glowed beautifully, and her dark eyes had glittered whenever she’d pierced into him. He’d been stupid enough to wish for an impossible blank slate. As if they could both start over just that moment. No pain. No past.

  But he knew there was no future. Nothing could be undone. All he could do was to find the hackers, finish their hold on April and set her free. Then he’d be on to the next mission, then the next. None of them powerful enough to erase his debt. Just as the shower didn’t have enough pressure to clean the blood he still felt on his skin.

  He showered and changed and stepped quietly into the main room. The sun had risen, leaking light all around the curtains. April was awake and dressed, sitting on the edge of the bed with her packed bag at her feet.

  “I need coffee.” She raked her fingers through her hair and arranged her bangs.

  He took his boots to the club chair in the corner and sat. “I’ll be ready by the time you’re out of the bathroom.”

  She shuffled in and closed the door behind her. While she brushed her teeth and did whatever else she needed in there, he got his boots on, reattached his knife to his belt and organized his other belongings. The pistol settled into its usual spot under his arm, then his jacket covered all the weapons.

  April reemerged as he was calling the front desk to check out. She’d replaced her glasses with contact lenses and gazed at him with those dark eyes. His body responded with the urge to go to her, pull her against his chest and ask her if what she saw was a complete man. What if they didn’t have to leave? What if they could hide in the room all day and he could learn her, show her that life didn’t have to hurt all the time? And she could show him that he wasn’t what his past had made him anymore.

  The front desk picked up, and he checked out.

  “Let’s get you caffeinated.” He lifted his kit and left the room. If April was tired, she didn’t show it as she followed him, rolling her bag down the hallway. “You slept through the night.”

  “I was motivated.” Her voice was raspy with morning. “You?”

  “Aces.” The normal noises of a hotel woke him at intervals, but nothing had him reaching for his pistol.

  The hotel lobby was quiet. April grunted when she walked into the cold outside with him. If someone had been waiting for them in the parking lot, the clouds of their breath would’ve given them away. But the egress was trouble-free, except for the car struggling to warm up after turning over.

  April cranked the heat and adjusted the vents. “We’re too early for the CPA.”

  “Part of the rhythm of a job like this.” He drove them to their target neighborhood and parked them about a block away from the offices, at a chain coffee shop on a corner. “Stalking our prey.”

  The morning rush was in full swing at the coffee shop. James and April waited in a long line of shuffling people, some of them dazed, conserving their minds and bodies for the workday ahead. Others were already on their phones. The most energy came from the men and women behind the counter, who coordinated like an artillery team to take the orders and get them out.

  He scanned the people in line and didn’t detect any firearms on them. None of their briefcases and backpacks seemed exceptionally heavy. A couple of the blue-collar workers had knives clipped in their front pockets, but nothing out of the ordinary. He noticed April watching the populace as well. She maintained a casual external attitude, but those sharp eyes of hers didn’t rest, and each new person who walked into the shop was checked out. She wasn’t a Green Beret like Raker, but she was more of a partner than he’d expected.

  They were close enough to the front counter to hear the specifics of the transactions. He pulled a bottle of juice from a cooler and caught April staring at him with a realization that turned her mouth down.

  A charge of danger sparked in him, and his muscles readied to move. He leaned close to her. “What’s up?”

  She spoke just loud enough for him to hear. “You know what I order, don’t you?”

  Lying would’ve only set up more distrust. She was a woman of habits and easy to learn when he was shadowing her. “Large soy vanilla latte. Three shots.”

  Her face remained stony. “A table just opened. I’ll grab it. You order for me.” She left the line and sat at a small table, her back to the wall. Her wary eyes landed on him as well during her sweep of the room. He felt her judgment. Normal people didn’t secretly follow other people. But he hadn’t been ordinary in a long time. Starting with the army, then the SAS. Then...after. If she could really see all the things he’d done, she wouldn’t even want to be in the same room with him. Automatik didn’t judge him. They’d still reached out when he’d been freelancing with Hathaway. They’d given him a chance to make right where he’d gone wrong. April was another one of those chances.

  He reached the register, placed their orders, then waited at the other end of the counter with the rest of the people. Someone there could be one of the CPAs, or one of the hackers. He knew how easy it was to hide.

  The hot drinks and warm food finally arrived, and he took them over to April. She stood and switched seats, letting him put his back to the wall.

  “Cheers,” he thanked her, while spreading out their breakfast on the table.

  She’d been alert since early that morning, but became awake as she drank and ate. She tipped her head toward his hot drink. “What’s your usual?”

  “Green tea, two bags.” He toasted her with it and drank the welcome heat.

  “Not what I’d expect from a Brit.” She maintained a private voice.

  He finished her thought, “With Indian blood.”

  “If I’d been following you for a week, I’d already know your habits.” She shot him a look over the lid of her coffee.

  “This chai’s bollocks.” He looked over the thin shoes of the men in line. “And I don’t drink Earl Grey like some Square Mile wanker.”

  “Just when I thought I’d figured you out, Simon.” She’d picked up on the name he’d also given the coffee makers for their order.

  “Don’t try.” Any truth she found besides what he’d told her wouldn’t be pretty.

  She quieted, but didn’t shrink. The population in the coffee shop turned over twice as they completed their meal. April appeared more cautious with him, and he was glad for it. She shouldn’t trust him completely. All she needed to know was that he’d complete this mission no matter what. Anything else, anything deeper in him, wasn’t going to help them.

  He checked his watch. “We know they close early. Hopefully they open on time.”

  They cleared out of the coffee shop and back into the day. The sun had done little to warm the air, and the cold stung his lungs. Back in the car, back on the road for a block. The parking lot for the business building had more cars. None seemed out of place. He found a spot near the exit and they retraced their steps from yesterday to the second floor.

  Before they reached the office door, he asked under his breath, “What do you need to see in there?”

  “Their servers. From the type and size, I can see if this is the mother ship.” The nerves collected in her again and serrated her breath.

  “Yoga,” he reminded her.

&n
bsp; She calmed and centered herself. “Do you have a plan?”

  “We’re getting a divorce.”

  * * *

  All the coffee in the world wasn’t going to get her ready for this. James opened the office door and swept in ahead of her. The only updates to the 1980s waiting room were the magazines piled on a table next to the slumping leather couch. The black laminated counter under the window to the receptionist was peeling up, and a fluorescent light buzzed overhead. The dull brass handle of the door to the offices was worn to a shine in one spot.

  But the Latina receptionist appeared unaffected by her surroundings. “How can I help you?” she chirped. The woman belonged in a much finer establishment, probably in a corner office of her own.

  James used his high-class accent. “We’d like to talk to an accountant about the financial repercussions that would result from a divorce.” With the last word, he shot April a look. He certainly sold it. Was he venting his true feelings about having her on this mission with him?

  The receptionist remained neutral. “I’ll see who has some availability right now.” She clicked across her keyboard.

  April shouldered past James to play her part and stand up to him. “I’d prefer to see a woman accountant.”

  “Of course.” The receptionist couldn’t hold back a split-second sympathetic glance at April. “I see that Ms. Bell has an availability in about fifteen minutes.”

  From the way the receptionist was typing, April knew she was currently in a text chat with the accountant. Probably telling her about the shit storm that was about to walk into her office.

  “Fifteen minutes?” James made a big show of checking his watch.

  April rubbed her temples and asked the receptionist, “Is there a restroom I could use?”

  “Outside, all the way to the left.” The woman pointed with her immaculate manicure. “Here’s the key.” When she turned to retrieve it from a table along the side of her small alcove, April scanned further into the room and spotted where the Ethernet cables snaked along the floor and around a doorway in the main hallway of the offices. That must be where the servers were. Without even a lock guarding them. The woman came back with the key and handed it through the window.