Lethal Echo by Cara Carnes
1
No matter how many times Bree Geissinger studied the document, the results were still the same. Something happened seven months ago to make the secretary of defense turn on The Arsenal. But what? Why?
Grrr. Answers would come faster if she could brainstorm this out with her Pentagon crew, aka her best friends: Mary, Vi, Rhea, and Addy. Oh, and then the new additions since she’d joined The Arsenal: Riley, Kamren, Zoey, Ellie, and…hmm…was Mia a part of the Pentagon squad now? Maybe? She was definitely a kickass, protector commando like Addy, but Bree hadn’t interacted with her much yet. She’d need to be vetted before she joined their inner ranks.
There wasn’t a problem in existence that the Pentagon couldn’t figure out. Every single one of those women was fiercely brilliant on her own, but combined? Yeah, they were a hive mind that could easily conquer the world. She laughed maniacally at the thought, mainly because none of them would want that responsibility.
Nope. They’d all taken on more than sane people would because none of them would ever sit on the sidelines when trouble struck—and boy did it. Huge, menacing waves of trouble, one after another, had almost drowned them all. But they’d overcome the threats and found the calmer waters that promised a brighter, happier future. The amazing men in their lives had helped them navigate the chaotic waves and kept them safe.
Some had endured more than others. Bree’s gut tightened as the memories assailed her, an unwelcome undercurrent that threatened to drag her under once more. Doctor Sinclair had given her the weapons she needed to fight those urges, the twisted whispers that’d dragged her into a chaotic, destructive storm.
Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. The simple exercise focused her thoughts on something other than the past, the things she couldn’t change.
All we can do is analyze what happened, accept the things we can’t change, and move on.
How many times had Sinclair said that during Bree’s daily sessions? Loads. Her mind recalled the first time the psychiatrist had confronted her with the truth. Denial still crawled within her whenever she thought about the conversation, but Bree knew deep down that Sinclair was right back then.
“You’ve been through a lot, Bree. All while not being in the driver’s seat, which I suspect is a huge problem for you. You’re used to be being the one in control, the one with power to turn the wheel in the direction you want. Trusting those around you to navigate isn’t always easy.” Empathy filled the woman’s gaze as it remained on Bree.
“That’s ridiculous. I trust everyone at The Arsenal with my life.” She did, without hesitation. Yet, her pulse quickened and the need to retreat consumed her thoughts.
Wait. Why had she reacted like that?
“Maybe, but that doesn’t stop the fear that’s invaded your defenses. It’s pervasive and something you can’t ignore if you want to overcome it.”
“I’m not scared.” The lie slid out easily as it always had since the first ordeal struck her friends. Mary had been kidnapped and tortured. Violated. She’d endured hell for days, and Bree hadn’t even realized she was in trouble. Why hadn’t I realized she was missing? We should’ve found her faster.
She’d chewed on that guilt daily since being at The Arsenal. Then Vi’s problem dropped another meal of emotional turmoil for Bree to consume. One threat after another had fed her thoughts with regrets and compounding guilt. She should’ve done more to help her friends, keep them safe.
Silence descended as she mulled over the vile banquet she’d feasted on. Why hadn’t she done more?
Sinclair broke the tense silence. “No. You’re terrified. Terrified you’ll be next. You’ve all faced harrowing ordeals since arriving at The Arsenal, one after another. You’re one of the most brilliant people I’ve ever met, Bree. Think about what I’m saying, really analyze the situation, and assess it for yourself. Terror drove you into this path and separated you from those you trust most. Why?”
“Because I was too weak to stop any of it,” Bree whispered. “I should’ve done more. I was powerless to stop what happened to them all. I could’ve done something, anything, to keep them safe. Why didn’t I?”
Sinclair leaned forward and took Bree’s hand. Squeezed. “Wars aren’t won alone. You have single-handedly done more than almost anyone here to combat every adversity we run up against.”
“No. That’s not true.” If it were, Mary wouldn’t have been taken. Assassins wouldn’t have come for Vi. Zoey wouldn’t have been waterboarded and lost her hair. Rhea wouldn’t have been taken by her psycho ex, and Fallon and his team wouldn’t have almost freaking died. “I’m the weak link. They’ve all suffered because they’re protecting me. A team is only as strong as their weakest link, and that’s me.”
Sinclair leaned back and studied her a moment. “You aren’t. That’s the guilt talking.”
“It’s not,” Bree whispered, clinging to her revelation like a life raft. She needed Sinclair to understand. “You have to believe me.”
“Why?”
“Because they won’t be safe until I’m no longer the weakest link. I have to be stronger. Smarter.” And she would be. All she needed was time. Time to plan. Time to figure out how to combat the threats still looming on the horizon. There’d be another storm because there always was. The next one might kill one of her friends, or the commandos who kept them all safe. She couldn’t let that happen. “I need to go away. I can’t be here while I overcome this…problem.”
“You’re stronger when surrounded by friends and family who understand what you’re going through,” Sinclair said. “They can help you navigate this.”
Bree shook her head. “They need to be focused on what matters.”
“That’s you, and there’s not a single person at The Arsenal who would refute that.”
“You’re wrong.” She licked her lips and looked down at the carpeted floor. “I can’t deny I have a problem, but I shouldn’t be here until I’ve overcome it. I’ll only distract them from what matters.”
Sinclair didn’t respond, not at first. The silence turned even more intense, a tsunami that threatened to drag Bree under the stormy waters. Icy remnants burned her lungs, a terrifying reminder of why she was in Sinclair’s office. Addy never should’ve found Bree waterboarding herself. Talk about pathetic.
Leaving The Arsenal and her friends would be hard, but she deserved to suffer that loss. A penance for being weak—a threat to them all. She’d work her way back to strong. Somehow.
“You’re a smart woman, Bree. Somewhere deep down, you know you are wrong. You have never, nor will you ever be, weak. Even if you were, that’s why we surround ourselves with friends. A team. We hold each other up when we’re struck down.”
“But I wasn’t struck down!” She shouted the words. “None of this shit happened to me. It happened to Mary. Vi. Zoey!” She shouted the last name because somehow her suffering seemed worse. She hadn’t been there from the start. No, she’d been dragged in because she’d wanted to be a part of The Arsenal to make a difference. “None of this happened to me, but I’m making it all about me. How selfish is that? That’s how I know I’m the weak link. They would never, ever, ever do that.”
“The closer we are to someone, the harder we feel a blow they take,” Sinclair whispered gently. “Let’s use Jesse as an example.”
Bree tensed. “Let’s not. He’s been through enough without being fodder for my crazy brain.”
“He has endured a lot.” Sinclair nodded her head. “But he came home and surrounded himself with family. Friends. Comrades. Do you think he would’ve overcome what happened to him if he’d self-isolated?”
“He did, at first,” Bree argued. “He may have been home, but he didn’t share. Not at first.”
“No. It took him witnessing Mary’s strength to seek the help she needed for him to do the same.” Sinclair paused when her voice turned emotional. “We should all learn from him. He wouldn’t want anyone learning that lesson the way he did.”
“What way?” Bree’s pulse thudded hard in her ears as she waited for the answer, even though she already knew. Deep down she knew.
“Fighting his demons alone,” Sinclair whispered. “It didn’t work. Wars aren’t won alone.”
Maybe not, but this wasn’t a war. Bree’s troubles weren’t even her troubles. They’d happened because of her, but they hadn’t hurt her. They’d ravished her friends. “This is different.”
“How so?”
“None of my friends would’ve suffered if I’d been smarter. I talked them into adding the drones to HERA. They were my idea. Every single fucked up thing they’ve gone through is because of me. I was behind the drones from the start.”
“Zoey’s ordeal had nothing to do with the drones. Mary and Vi were targeted for HERA—all of HERA, not just the drones,” Sinclair reasoned. “You’re smart enough to work through to that realization on your own. Promise me you’ll give your brain the room it needs to do that.”
“I will if I can go away for a while. I can’t be here. It’s not safe for them if I stay.”
“They wouldn’t want you self-isolating like that.”
Sinclair wouldn’t ever understand why this was important. Determination steeled Bree’s resolve. “This is happening with or without your blessing, Doc. I need a month away from here so I can get stronger and overcome this. If I stay here, I’ll get dragged under those crashing waves again. Seeing them risk their lives to protect me and everything I helped create is too much. You don’t understand.”
“You’re the one who doesn’t understand,” Sinclair said, her words edged with a tone she hadn’t used before. Bree tightened beneath the fierceness, but remained determined. “You make them all stronger, and you’ll only recover when you realize that without you, the entire chain will weaken. You aren’t the weak link, Bree. You’re the energy that feeds them all.”
Bree forced herself from the memory. It’d taken a long conversation to convince Doctor Sinclair to bless her temporary departure from The Arsenal. She’d only consented if Bree agreed to daily sessions via video conferencing. Three weeks instead of the month Bree had wanted.
It’d only taken a week for Bree to realize Sinclair had been right. Bree wasn’t a link in the chain because there was no chain. The Arsenal bond was far more formidable than a mere chain.
Even though a part of Bree had wanted to return to the compound immediately upon that discovery, she’d continued her therapy and remained at Grams’ mountain cabin because being away from The Arsenal’s ensuing chaos had given her the time she’d needed to plot. Plan.
I miss them all so much.
She’d return stronger and armed with a solid plan to take the remaining assholes behind Stan Carlisle out. Although she wasn’t a brilliant strategist like Mary, or a phenomenal hacker like Vi and Zoey, she was a damned good planner because she never thought inside the box. No, she moved into an entirely different stratosphere where nothing was impossible.
She just needed to create whatever was needed to make the plan work. Tech solved any problem, and she was the best at making anything necessary.
A soft knock on the tiny bedroom’s door dragged Bree from her thoughts. “Come in.”
Lars entered and clicked the door shut behind him. His gaze swept the room and landed on her computer. “Sorry to bother you, sis, but we might have a situation.”
“What?” She dragged her computer closer. “What’s happening?”
“That alarm you set up in the living room chimed three times, all within a minute.” He fisted his hands. “Someone’s making their way up the mountain, moving in fast.”
Shit. Bree grabbed her cellphone and cursed. “I missed calls from Zoey. I had my phone on silent and forgot to switch it back.”
“What’s the plan?”
Bree wasn’t dumb enough to think she could formulate a good plan if whoever was making their way up the mountain was a bad guy. That’s why she’d set up all the drones—to give herself time to call her friends. The ones she’d run away from.
God, I was so stupid. Why didn’t I listen to Sinclair?
“Finally!” Zoey shouted by way of greeting.
“Someone’s coming up the mountain.” The words came out jumbled together. “Help.”
“Deep breath, sister,” Zoey said, her voice calm. Even. “It’s friendlies. The Triple Threat is coming to bring you home where you belong.”
Ramon, aka one-third of the Triple Threat. Her pulse quickened at the thought of seeing the tall, dark, and sexier-than-legal operative who’d slid onto her radar back when Zoey’s ordeal was going down. No. Earlier than that. Although they’d flirted with one another on occasion, they’d both maintained their distance. She hadn’t wanted to explore a relationship with so many threats against those she loved looming on the horizon.
“Bree?” Lars asked.
“It’s okay. They’re friends,” she said quickly. “Z, is there a problem? Why are they here?”
“A certain sexy commando has been wanting to come and bring you back since the day you left.” The teasing tone quickened Zoey’s pulse. “Gage has exhausted them with mission after mission and practically sat on them in between. Ram was not deterred, though. They’re done waiting. We all are. We miss you. Get your ass packed and back here.”
Relief filled her. They wanted her back. A small part of her worried they’d take her retreat personally and question whether or not she belonged at The Arsenal. “I can’t wait to see you.”
“Good.” Zoey paused. “We’ve been talking. Do you think your family should come and stay for a while? There’s been a lot of chatter on the DeepWeb about you being gone. We don’t fully know who’s got eyes on us, but whoever it is made it known that you left.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah. We don’t know how that fallout will go down. Your family would be safer here.”
Damn. Bree squeezed her eyes shut. “Grams hasn’t left this mountain other than grocery runs since she married Gramps.”
“Then you’d best get to talking,” Zoey said.
“What’s going on?” Lars asked.
“Is that your brother?” Zoey asked. “What’s he like?”
“Annoying and rude,” Bree clipped. “Get the kids packed. You’re all coming back with me.”
His jaw twitched. “You know she won’t go for that.”
“She’ll go. I’m not giving her a choice.” Bree focused on the conversation with Zoey. “I’d better get to talking Grams around. They’ll need a cottage.”
“We’ve got a four-bedroom one set aside, just in case,” Zoey said.
“Three rooms will do. We’ve had three adults and two kids in a two-bedroom cabin,” Bree said. “Luke’s six and Hillary is four. They can share a room. Too much space will probably freak them out.” Bree had a cottage of her own, one she’d shared with Addy since Rhea had moved in with Fallon. “I assume I still have my cottage.”
“Yes, but your roomie has changed. Addy and Kristof moved into one with Stacia and Olaf last week. Mia’s in what used to be Rhea’s room and then was Addy’s.” Zoey sighed heavily. “I’m sending a massive file your way. Get your tablet and download it before you leave the mountain. It’ll catch you up on everything that’s happened since you left.”
Sharing a cottage with the mysterious and lethal Mia sounded terrifying and exciting in equal measure, so she focused on Olaf and Stacia living with Addy and Kristof. The young couple had been through hell. They deserved a happily ever after. Add in Zoey thinking ahead and giving Bree what she’d need to be caught up with everything that’d happened while she was away, and wow. “That’s amazing,” Bree whispered. “You’re awesome. You know that, right?”
“I try. Later, chica.”
“Later.” Bree clicked off the call with a smile and grabbed her tablet. Two clicks later and the file was downloading. She stood and headed toward the corner where she’d kept her stuff all packed, mainly because there hadn’t been enough room to unpack anything.
Lars hovered.
“This’ll be good for the kids,” Bree said. “Kamren and Dallas have two boys. DJ’s about Luke’s age, so they’ll be best friends in minutes.”
“I’m not worried about the kids. Grams won’t take this well, even if it is only for a couple weeks.”
Hmm. If Bree had her way, it’d be a permanent move. While she loved her Grams and admired her love of the mountain she and Gramps had raised their family on, she was too isolated. Sure, Lars had moved in when he’d finally scraped off the baby momma, but this wasn’t a good place for the woman to help raise her great-grandkids.
“She’ll do this for her great-grandkids. She was the one who talked Dad into leaving the mountain so I could have a better education and be the first of us to go to college.” Bree hoisted her duffel bag and looked at her brother. “That’s our main talking point. It’s temporary, as far as she knows. Once she meets Momma Mason, she’ll be in love with Resino and everyone at the compound. Then we can discuss a permanent move.”
“You think they’ll hit it off?”
“Everyone loves Grams and everyone loves Momma Mason. Grams isn’t much older than Momma Mason since she and Mom both had kids young.” Less than a decade separated the two women and they both loved family. “Get the kids packed, only the essentials.”
Lars exited the bedroom. Bree took a fortifying breath as she packed the rest of her electronics, including the tablet that’d finished downloading the file. She couldn’t wait to catch up on what all had been going on at The Arsenal. Sinclair had insisted she keep her contact minimal with everyone, likely to reinforce the lesson she was teaching Bree.
A painfully lonely lesson Bree wouldn’t soon forget. The Arsenal and everyone there were her tribe. Her family. She needed to accept their help getting through her PTSD, just like Jesse and Mary had.
She carried her stuff into the small living room and looked around. Every crevice was filled with photographs or artwork Luke had done. A few of the older drawings were creations saved from when Lars had been young. Could she really ask the woman who’d given her more love and support than anyone to leave this place, even if it was for her own good?
Bree had worked hard over the years as time allowed to make the cabin safer. Grams had her own power grid. Now she had internet, even though she hadn’t owned a computer until three weeks ago.
She locked gazes with the stubborn woman who’d given Bree everything she’d ever needed. “We need to talk, Grams.”
“No. We don’t.” The woman motioned toward the bag, then to Lars, who was carrying three bags from the second bedroom he shared with the kids. “I’ve known this moment was coming. I’ve heard everything you and Lars have said. I don’t agree, and I’m not saying I’ll make this a permanent move, but I want to see this place. The Arsenal. I want to suss those folks out for myself and make sure they’re good enough for my baby girl.”
Thank goodness. Bree expended the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Okay. You’ll all have a cottage to yourself. The kids will share a room, though they have a four-bedroom one you could use if you want them to have a place of their own.”
“They’ll be better together,” Lars said. He wrapped an arm around Grams. “I love you. I know this isn’t what you want, but we both know my sis has been hiding something from us.”
Her stomach churned. She hadn’t told them why she’d showed up at the cabin. They’d asked, but she’d dodged every attempt because it wasn’t their burden to carry.
“I read between the lines. Her light wasn’t shining as bright as it always does when she showed up. Something knocked the wind out of her and dimmed that light. She’s better now,” Grams said. Intensity resonated within her gaze. “Your gramps would be better with this than me. He always knew what to say.”
“I’d imagine he’d say it’s not how many times we get knocked out, but how many times we stand back up and dust ourselves off,” Lars said with a wink. “Wasn’t that what you told me when I finally cut Janie loose?”
Yeah. Repeatedly. Bree swallowed the emotion clogging her throat. “I love you both. So much.”
“We love you, too,” Grams said. “Now who’s coming up my mountain?”
“An Arsenal team. The Triple Threat. I’m not sure if it’s just those three, or if their team leader, Gage, will be with them,” Bree said.
“I’d best pack my shotgun then,” Grams said as she turned toward the fireplace where Gramps’ old weapon hung. “If they get out of line, they’ll get a lesson in manners.”
“It’s probably best not to go against Bree’s superheroes,” Lars teased. “This’ll be interesting.”
Holy shit. How had she forgotten about story time? Bree squeezed her eyes shut. “Please, please, please contain Luke.”
“Afraid I can’t do that. He’ll explode when he meets them.” Lars crossed his arms. “I bet you’re regretting story time right about now.”
That was the understatement of the century. Regaling her niece and nephew with fictionalized stories using the kickass commandos she knew as the basis had been a fun way to keep those she cared about close despite the distance. Luke had gobbled up every word and the story time had become a nightly event, often taking hours to complete.
Entertaining a hyperactive six-year-old boy and a precocious four-year-old girl was a lot of work. Bree had a newfound respect for Dallas and Kamren for making it look so simple with TJ and DJ.
Yep. This was about to get embarrassing. “Where are the kids?”
“Outside playing,” Grams said.
Bree froze. “You heard the alarms and didn’t get them inside?”
“First, you’ve got enough drones in the area to down a small army if they do what you told me they did.” They did, and then some. She’d been low on the details. Lars held up a second finger. “Second, they aren’t getting past that little makeshift security gate you have a mile down the road without either knowing what they need to know to be a friendly, or suffer a hell of a lot of pain.”
All true. New drones she’d decided to field test on the mountain secured the narrow road leading to the cabin a mile down. They’d temporarily incapacitate a vehicle with her own version of an electromagnetic field and could also shoot sleeper darts if needed. Since HERA ran them via its background test environment, Bree assumed they’d make it through.
You should probably give Zoey a heads up, though.Oops. She clicked the contact button on her phone.
“Something you forgot to tell me?” Zoey asked. Amusement filled her tone. “My man is not happy right now. What brilliance did they become the lab rats for?”
“EMF drones,” Bree said. “You can turn them off in HERA’s test environment. Sorry, I forgot to send you and the others an email about them. I may have thrown a few sleeper and zapper drones in for, you know, testing purposes.”
Zoey chuckled. “This is brilliant. I’ve missed your zaniness, woman. Okay, I’m on it.”