The SEAL’s Surprise Baby by Leslie North

11

Anderson rolled over and reached for his phone on the nightstand. The buzz of an incoming text had brought him out of a dreamless sleep. His need to rest wasn’t a surprise after last evening. Nate’s illness had been frustrating and exhausting, and the conversation with Violet afterward was one of the most blunt and emotional ones of his life. He didn’t know what to think of it. Making love to her, though, had been the highlight of the night, possibly the year. He didn’t want to admit there was something between them, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to pretend otherwise. She made him feel… whole, somehow. No one had ever had that effect on him. He hadn’t allowed them to, and he shouldn’t now. But Violet…

He gave himself a shake and glanced at the text from Allen Zimmerman, one of Rogers’s men.

New developments. Use Wiffy.

Anderson got out of bed, for the first time realizing that he was alone. He listened for a second and heard Violet singing softly in Nate’s room. All seemed peaceful, so he went to the living room where he’d left Wiffy, the encrypted phone Rogers’s security company had placed in the house for them. A request to communicate via Wiffy was probably not a good sign.

He hit the only number programmed in the phone and waited for it to ping off multiple cell towers, making it more difficult to trace or listen in to conversations. After a minute, Allen answered.

“Thanks for checking in.” Allen got down to business quickly. “Our night-shift monitoring guys picked up some intel that set off alarms. We’re going to need you to move, but we don’t have a house available yet.”

Allen went on to explain how Russian mob communication in the area, though usually low, had suddenly increased. Rogers’s team was looking into it. By itself that might not mean much, but the team had also followed some of the leads Violet uncovered regarding the data breach and had new concerns for their safety.

“So what’s next?” Anderson asked. While listening to Allen, he’d prowled around the house, checking the defenses.

“We need to get you packets of intel for Violet to analyze—and new IDs. I can’t risk dropping the material off directly to your location, because one of our techs found a worm in our system. He killed it fast, but it might be an indication that someone knows we’re working with you. I don’t want to lead the bad guys to your doorstep. You’re going to have to go on a little scavenger hunt and retrieve the items yourselves.”

“Is that safer?” They would be out and exposed. Anderson wasn’t sure he liked that.

Anderson heard the man sigh. “We think it’s the safest way, but you’ll have to watch your back.”

“Seems a little cloak-and-dagger,” Anderson commented. “Is Rogers okay with this?” The method didn’t seem in keeping with the former SEAL’s usual caution.

“His order,” Allen said. “Look, I know it’s… unusual, but it’s been a lifesaver in the past.”

“All right,” Anderson agreed, since he probably didn’t have a choice. “Where am I headed?”

“Wiffy contains a secure app. We’ll feed GPS coordinates and instructions to it one at a time. Once you retrieve one item, we’ll make the next available.”

“Got it,” Anderson said.

“Good luck—and be careful,” Allen said before hanging up.

Anderson found the app on the phone and went to check on Nate who—thankfully—seemed fine, then told Violet the plan. She too questioned the unusual method, but it had started to have some appeal for Anderson. They’d get out of the house and be taking action, which was better than biding their time being sitting ducks.

Half an hour later, they put Nate in the car and made their way to the first set of coordinates. Anderson took the elevator to the third floor of an office building in downtown Nashville. An office at the end of the hall had a mailbox attached to the door. What looked like an interoffice envelope was sticking from the box. Anderson retrieved it and retraced his steps to where Nate and Violet waited in the car. He hadn’t liked leaving them, even for a few minutes, but a single man entering the building would gather less attention than a couple with a baby.

He handed the envelope to Violet as he climbed in. She undid the tie and pulled out a sheaf of papers while he checked the app and found a new message with the next coordinates.

“I’ll read. You drive,” she said and began flipping through pages.

“You’re enjoying this,” he commented as he wound his way out of downtown and made for the suburbs on the west side of the city.

“You know I love assessing new information,” she said, not looking up.

“Anything good?” Anderson asked.

“It’s definitely Volkhov’s organization,” she said, “but the question is who’s calling the shots.”

“Could be the Wolf himself, from prison.” That wasn’t unheard of in Russia, where the network of prisons was connected to the heart of the mob community.

“True, but someone must be directing the activity here.” She flipped over a page and continued reading. “I like working with Rogers’s team. They know how to get the goods. I’ve got descriptions and all known info for Volkhov’s associates.”

“Anybody ring a bell?” During their time in Moscow, they’d crossed paths with plenty of possible mobsters.

“I’m looking.” She continued to sort through papers until they reached their next destination. There she’d have to participate, since the packet had been left in a fabric store.

“I have no idea how to locate this,” he said, showing her the information on the encrypted phone. “McCall’s M7718. Whatever the hell that means.”

She didn’t hesitate. “McCall’s is the company name, and M7718 is the pattern number. Patterns are all stored in drawers, organized in numeric order.”

He gave her a confused look. “You sew?”

“Me? No way, but I did help a friend pick out a pattern for a dress once.” She put her hand on the door handle. “I’ll be back in five.”

She slipped from the car, and Anderson took a minute to scan their surroundings in the strip mall parking lot. Nothing seemed out of place, so he leaned over the seat to take a look at Nate. He was playing with his toes and looking around.

“Why couldn’t you have been so calm last night, kid?” Anderson asked. Nate gave him a sloppy grin in response. “Never a dull moment with you, huh?”

Violet returned to the car a few minutes later and pulled a white packet from a bag. The outside was printed with the image of a model wearing a fancy dress. Again, she emptied the packet into her lap and began reading as he checked the phone and started driving.

“Our next stop is south of the city, at a house they’re thinking of moving us to,” he said. “They’ve stashed new IDs for us in a planter in front.”

“Why aren’t we moving there now?” she asked without looking up.

“I guess it’s occupied.” The message had said they were working on it. Rogers’s team had steered them right so far, so he had to trust their judgment again.

Anderson kept his eyes on the road as they left the city and headed to a smaller town. He turned down a main street that looked like something out of an old movie, with its ornate façades and decorative light posts. Not a bad place to live. He turned off Main onto Pleasant Street and drove, keeping a lookout for number 343. He came to a stop sign and checked to his right. A black SUV sat at the curb.

He tensed. Anyone could own one of those, of course, but he didn’t like coincidences. He turned left, his action catching Violet’s attention.

“I thought the house was straight ahead,” she said.

“It was. We might have company.” He kept his eye on the SUV, but it didn’t move. Probably nothing, but it was a good reminder that he needed to keep his guard up. Gathering clues in this way felt like a game, but it wasn’t one. He took a loop around the block and came at number 343 from the opposite direction. He pulled to a stop three houses down and waited. No sign of the SUV or any other issues. He didn’t like the location, though. The old neighborhood was beautiful but full of mature trees and tall hedges that blocked visibility.

“Stay here,” he said to Violet. “I’m going to grab the IDs and be right back.” He got out and headed up the street. Number 343 was a blue bungalow that sat back from the road under the canopy of a huge maple tree. As he reached its front walk, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He thought of ignoring it, but something made him reach for it.

“The SUV just came around the corner,” Violet said as soon as he answered. “Look right.”

He swung his gaze in that direction and saw the black vehicle approaching at high speed. It slid to a stop thirty feet from him. Anderson felt torn. His training and instinct made him want to confront the bad guy, but he knew it was important to complete the mission: get the IDs they’d come for.

The SUV’s door flew open, and a man in black tactical dress jumped out. Down the street, Violet was honking the horn, trying to create a distraction, but his opponent never took his eyes off Anderson.

A showdown. Bring it on, Anderson thought. And then he remembered the two people he’d pledged to protect. He hated backing down, but confronting this guy might put them at risk.

With a dip of his chin at the enemy, Anderson turned and sprinted to the car. By now, Violet was in the driver’s seat and already had the vehicle rolling. He leaped in and they took off.

“Evasive driving,” he said. “Take that corner.” He pointed ahead. “We need to get out of this little town.”

Violet wasted no time getting back to a highway. All the while, Anderson watched out behind them. He caught a glimpse of the black SUV once, but they lost it easily.

A little too easily, he worried. Did that mean the enemy didn’t need to chase them because he knew where they were going?

It was a thought that made Anderson pledge to double down on security.