Despite It All by Reese Knightley

 

Forest

“Remind me why I’m doing this?” Mason muttered.

“Because you love me and you’d do anything for me.”

“This is it, though.”

“Don’t take offense then when I blow you off and do it by myself next time.”

“You fucking better not!”

“Quit yelling at me.” Squinting through the thick drizzle at his brother, he tugged on his black climbing gloves, pulled down his black beanie to cover his face, and gazed up at the brownstone apartment building. It sat like a big wet slab in the dark, looming.

“Hurry the fuck up,” his brother growled low.

He grinned and stepped into his harness and Mason tightened his gear for him even though he could do it himself. Just like when they were younger, Mason took the older brother job to heart.

“I don’t know why we couldn’t have done this last night or the night before,” his brother mumbled, yanking at the strap and securing his anchor.

“Relax, bro. Doesn’t this remind you of Russia?”

“No, it doesn’t. It snows there, now hurry up.”

“True.”

Mason tossed the rope over the upper balcony railing. It looped over and the end dropped down. Pulling him forward, Mason attached him to the rope.

“I swear, if you feel like your wrist is going to give, you better speak the fuck up,” Mason hissed.

“Relax, it comes equipped with a plate and screws made of titanium. My wrist is going to outlive us all.”

“Maybe we should use the front door.” Mason studied him through a pair of glittering eyes.

“Shut up.” He gripped the slick rope. The damn rain wouldn’t make climbing easy, but he’d climbed under worse conditions.

“Start walking.”

He planted his feet against the wall, letting the rope take his weight. “But we did a wall walk up that apartment building in Moscow, remember?” He picked up the previous thread of conversation.

“Yeah, and if I recall correctly, you lagged then too.”

He grinned and moved his feet upward with both hands gripping the rope, so far so good. Mason pulled and he started moving.

It took a second or two to get his rhythm going and then he walked up the side of the brownstone building.

It wasn’t as fast as he used to be, but he was going at a good clip and his hand held. Before he was all the way up, he was flying high. This reminded him of Echo Cliffs right off Pacific Coast Highway. Rock climbing had been their thing. He, Mason, Summer, and Rick had scaled the rocks, racing to the top. Rick had frequently won, but he’d come in second. The fantastic four.

His step wobbled and Mason stopped pulling the rope. Glancing down, he gave a nod and his brother resumed his pull.

Reaching the wrought iron railing, he pulled himself up and over the edge, out of breath, but he felt fucking exhilarated. The balcony smelled of potted plants and earthy rain and he lifted his face, taking in a deep breath.

Once Mason was up over the edge behind him, he pulled up the rope.

He darted to the other end of the patio and tossed the rope to the window below. Turning, he reattached his harness and climbed over the wet railing.

“Goddamn it!” Mason hissed at him.

“What? I’m going down. I’m good at this. See you on the flip side.”

Mason returned his flashing grin with a grimace and he almost laughed, but stifled the sound. No need to get caught this early in the game by making stupid mistakes.

“So serious.”

“Someone needs to be.”

Mason sighed and locked the rope inside his self-braking descender. His brother had insisted he purchase the descender with the panic button. Adjusting his harness, he grabbed the self-braking handle with his right hand and sat back using his left hand to guide. It took a moment to adjust, but then he was easing himself downward until he reached a wide bedroom window. Darting a look inside, it was empty just as he expected. If his wrist held up this good, he might be back in the saddle again.

He gave Mason the all-clear signal with a thumbs up.

Mason grunted when he reached him. “Remind me why we’re doing this?”

“I need to get a look first hand at what’s in that safe.”

“We should have used the front door.”

“This is way more fun. I needed this.” He planted his feet on the wall. “We should go climbing at the cliffs.”

“You need therapy.”

He stifled a chuckle and swung close to pop off the screen. “Been there, done that.”

Using a metal slider, his brother slipped it between the frame and lifted the latch on the window and waved at him to finish.

Easing it open, he stepped over the ledge and into the dark bedroom with Mason at his back. He placed the screen against the wall. The carpet gave way beneath his feet, and he stilled for just a moment, listening.

The apartment stood silent.

The fresh paint smell was strong.

“How long is Hardier gone for?”

“Parish sent him out of town a few days, so we’re good,” he said, unclipping the rope from his harness.

“Why is he painting?” Mason draped the ropes over the windowsill.

“Hell if I know.” Hurrying across the bedroom, he closed the door, flipped on the light, and turned the small doorknob lock.

“That won’t keep them out.”

“It might slow them down. You guard the door and flip off the lights if they come.”

“We should have just told them we were coming here.”

“What’s the fun in that?”

He pulled out his headphones and pressed the scope to the side of the black metal box near the tumblers. Easily disregarding any further noise from beyond his headphones, he turned the dial. This was his thing, he was in his element, doing what he did best.

Click, click, click.

“Forest?”

“Yeah?”

Click, click, click, snap.

He rolled the dial the other way.

“I hear someone coming inside the apartment,” Mason quickly whispered.

“No, you don’t. They’re upstairs.”

Click, click, click.

“Um, no they’re not.”

“Just be quiet, they’ll think the owner locked the door.”

“Are you serious. Do they look that stupid?” Mason bitched under his breath.

Click, click, click, snap.He spun the dial one more time in the opposite direction and concentrated on the sound of the tumbler.

“Shit, they’re in the living room.”

Mason backed away from the door.

Click, click, snap.

The lock fell into place and he pulled the handle down and the safe swung open. Grabbing everything including the laptop, he stuffed it all into his bag along with his headphones and gear. He slung the strap over his head and shoulder.

“Go!”

Mason lunged, snapped off the light, and ran for the window. His brother was outside and hooked up when the door crashed open behind him.

With his heart pounding, he leaped across the room and launched out the window, catching the rope with both hands. His left hand slipped a little, but Mason was there, snapping a hand around his harness to keep him from falling. With a snap, his harness was hooked up and he was stable.

That was a close fucking call.

He laughed, breathing hard, and gripped the handle before gently releasing the brake. Mason’s hand stayed on his rope, guiding him. He didn’t need it, but let his overprotective brother do his thing.

The rope stopped so abruptly, he slammed against the brownstone brick.

With a jerk, his whole body was pulled upward by someone on the other end of the rope.

Shit!

He glanced up through the darkness and made out the outline of Joshua Greene and those big hands pulling him upward.

Fuck, the guy was built. His hands massive, strong, yanking his rope from Mason’s grip and pulling him upward.

He was about to get caught.

Mason spider-climbed back up and snapped a metal ring into his harness, locking him onto his brother’s harness and rope.

He gazed back up at Greene. They were so close, but he knew Greene couldn’t recognize him in the dark, not with his beanie mask on.

Mason sliced his rope and he swung free, suspended by his brother’s gear.

Greene disappeared, falling back at the release, but then was back at the window trying to grab at Mason’s rope.

Mason was growling beneath his breath and swung them over to the balcony they’d scoped out as an alternative escape route.

He laughed, he couldn’t help it.

He was still laughing in the car all the way back to the hotel room.

The look on Greene’s face was fucking priceless. He should have taken a picture to use later.

“That was close,” Mason said with a slight chuckle.

“My hand slipped.” He opened and closed his hand and then rubbed at his thigh where he’d hit the wall. To make matters worse, he’d bruised his leg further when he jumped over the railing and landed in the industrial sized trashcan at the end of the complex.

“How’s it feel?” Mason tossed his hand a glance.

He shrugged. It felt sore and he couldn’t wait to get the brace off and put ice on it, but he’d never complain. During the accident, he’d sustained nerve and blood vessel damage when his wrist was broken. The doctor said it would swell and could take up to a year to use as normal. He was lucky, though, it could have been much worse. Even the jagged metal that sliced down the front of his stomach, nicking the lining, had missed all major organs. Other than those two things, he’d walked away with no serious injuries.

He studied his palm. Could he trust it to hold up when the going got rough? Maybe this was his ticket out. Go out on disabled leave. His luck, they’d probably stick him behind a desk instead. No fucking way. He’d rather walk away than sit behind a desk ever again.

“Why didn’t you let Greene catch me?”

“Are you kidding?” Mason barked out a laugh. “No way. He’s gonna have to work for it.”

“Work for what?” He threw his brother a quick glance.

“You know what.”

He shook his head, but he remained quiet. Greene didn’t want him in that way. A few days ago, he’d wondered because of the way Greene had looked at him, but it was some weird sexual awareness on his own part. It didn’t make sense that Greene would want him now and not back then.

“You hit your leg pretty hard back there.” Mason let the subject drop.

“I’ll check it when we get to the hotel.”

A half an hour later, he was freshly showered, and he pulled on a t-shirt with a pair of dark blue briefs on his way back into the main room with an icepack wrapped around his wrist.

Mason disappeared into the bathroom and the shower started.

Settling on the bed, he pulled the computer from his pack. Hardier’s laptop. The guy had been stupid enough to rent an apartment below Summer’s place, like he wouldn’t find out. He’d had a hunch that Hardier was involved with the mole or was the mole, but if the guy had a hand in Summer’s disappearance, he was going to die. And that was just the facts.

Entering an alternate backdoor on the laptop, he was able to upload the encryption he would use to crack the computer’s password.

Mason came out of the hallway rubbing a towel on his wet hair, wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and matching t-shirt.

“I think Hardier is either the mole or he’s unknowingly giving information to the mole.”

“I think he’s in this way deeper than we know.” Mason cracked open a water and settled on the bed.

He placed the ice aside and reattached his wrist brace. With his right hand, he rubbed at his throbbing thigh and studied the dark, bruised area. At least the skin wasn’t broken.

The small startup bar was still loading on the computer screen, but within a few minutes, the encryption key popped him inside the computer. The first thing he did was put everything he could find on four flash drives.

“You had Robert Shawl send me some emails,” Mason said.

“Yeah. What did he send?”

“Just what he started. Surveillance on two local bars, an office building, and a park. It doesn’t look like he got very far.”

“Anything worth checking out?”

“The bars might be worth it,” Mason said, the water bottle crackling in his hand.

“Be careful. Maybe call Shawl to go with you.”

He tossed one of the drives to Mason.

“I work alone.”

“You work with me,” he pointed out.

His brother raked his fingers through his dark hair and scratched at the stubble on his jaw.

“You’re the only one.”

Clicking several files open on Hardier’s laptop, he quickly searched through folders, pictures, and documents, but nothing damaging stood out. He tossed his brother a grimace.

“This is going to take longer than I thought.”

“Maybe he doesn’t keep anything on his personal laptop.”

“Maybe.”

“Why wouldn’t Hardier take this laptop with him when he went out of town?”

“Because it’s a work trip and maybe he fears someone might get their hands on it,” he said.

“Good point.” He exchanged a smirk with his brother.

Mason stuffed pillows behind his back against the headboard and started taking pictures of the documents from Hardier’s safe. A few moments later, Mason’s phone rang.

“Hi, mom. What? Yes, I’ll be there. Forest? Yes, he’s right here.”

He grabbed the phone his brother held out and tucked it between his chin and shoulder.

“Hi, mom. Sorry I didn’t get back to you.”

“It’s okay, baby. Don’t forget Sunday dinner.”

“What time?” he murmured.

“Five o’clock, in time to grill the meat.”

“Chicken or Steak?”

“Steak,” she laughed, a happy tinkling sound, her musical voice making him smile. It was a lovely music he’d listened to his whole life.

“You can tell us all about your vacation.”

“We will be there.”

They talked for a few more minutes and when she rang off, he tossed the phone on the bed and stared at Mason.

“Are we going to tell her?” His brother stopped typing and held his eyes.

“Tell her that the girl she thinks of as a daughter has been taken? No.”

While Summer had a chance, he would keep his mother’s memory of her alive just as she remembered. Laughing and smiling and flitting around the kitchen helping with Sunday dinners. What she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

“Summer is still working abroad as far as mom knows, and that’s the way we leave it,” he said.

“Agreed. I’m done with these.” Mason handed him the documents from Hardier’s safe and he tucked them away in his travel bag.

When his brother became absorbed in the computer, he jumped up, then slid into jeans and a black, long sleeved t-shirt. Tying his red sneakers, he stood and slid on his holster and tucked his weapon inside.

“What are you doing?”

“I need to get Hardier’s laptop back before he finds it gone. Plus, I want to see if Infinity found Summer’s laptop.”

“You’re not serious?”

“Yeah, why not?” He frowned, glancing at the darkness beyond the window. “They didn’t even know we were there.”

“Don’t bet on it. Greene saw you.”

“No, he didn’t.”

He shrugged into his black wool coat. It covered his ass and kept him protected from the wind and rain.

Mason sighed, rolled his eyes, and scooted back on the bed. “I looked up Greene.”

“When?” he gaped, his heart kickstarting. He’d tried several times to find information on Greene, but his access hadn’t gone that high. His brother, who just so happened to have National Security clearance, did. Why he didn’t think to ask Mason, he didn’t know. Maybe, it was because he’d felt a bit like he was looking into Greene like a creeper, without permission, snooping.

“What did you find out?”

“He was a fixer.”

“A fixer,” he breathed. A military fixer, a lone wolf, someone who slipped through the darkness unseen, ending terror before it got started. They used not only their brains, but their combat skills were unparalleled. Some called them military assassins. Fucking hell, it had only been by chance he’d gotten away from Greene that day at his office. He trusted you, that’s why you got away.

“Damn, he almost caught me tonight.” He shook off his guilt. Screw that, he didn’t owe the sexy soldier a thing.

“He did,” Mason agreed.

So what? He’d been lucky to get away. Why did that thought send his pulse racing? He loved a man with muscles. So what if he wasn’t good with combat skills?

He had speed. As for fighting? That’s what his nine-millimeter Glock was for.

He stared at Mason. How did his brother feel about Greene? He tried to read his expression, but his brother was still CIA, so he did that shit where he could hide his feelings with an unreadable face.

It was another reason he’d left the CIA. He hated hiding the truth from people. You lied to Greene. Yeah, and it didn’t sit well with him at all. He’d make amends once he got around to it.

Tugging his buzzing cell phone from his pocket, he stared at the text.

Dave: “Meet Liam at Summer’s apartment.”

Him: “On my way.”

Now he didn’t need an excuse, they wanted him there. Guess his opportunity for amends would be sooner rather than later.

“How’s your wrist?”

“It’s fine.” He rolled his hand around on his wrist.

“Any pains?”

“No.”

“Emotionally?”

His frown was quick, but Mason only stared at him. He released a hard breath. “Mason.”

“What?”

“It’s been six months of constant therapy, both physical and mental.”

“I don’t care. You lost your best friend, now Summer’s missing, and I know how much Greene hurt you.”

“That’s old news.”

“You seem pretty excited about him.”

“I’m not, so quit bringing it up. You lost Rick too.” He snatched up the other three flash drives and tucked them into his pockets, and then gathered Hardier’s laptop.

“Your shoes stand out.” His brother gave his feet a flat look.

“What’s new about that?” He waggled his eyebrows, already forgiving his brother for being overprotective.

“Why does that look make me think you’re going to do something stupid?”

“If Greene did see me, I want to see the look on his face,” he said with a laugh.

Just knowing that Greene hadn’t caught him sent his blood pounding.