Her Covert Protector by Victoria Paige
2
“What the hell does he want?”Nadia checked her phone as she got out of her Subaru in front of the apartment complex.
An unknown number flashed on her phone. It was a text message, ordering her to pick up, and she had no doubt that it was Garrison who’d been blowing up her phone for the past few hours. She shook her head and slipped the phone into her backpack and walked to the staircase. Well, he could wait until hell froze over. She was done jumping to do his bidding. And couldn’t the man leave a voice message?
Wednesday night was poker night for her dad and his buddies. And, if Nadia remembered correctly, it was Clyde’s turn to host. As she passed her neighbor’s apartment on the way to the third floor, she could hear their arguments and grumblings. She smiled. Maybe she’d join them later. The night was still young. Kelso would have invited her out for a beer if he wasn’t on his “shredding phase” as he called it. She shook her head. If there was a health nut on their squad, that would be him. Gabby seemed to get sucked into his healthy regimens, much to the horror of her husband, because that would mean kale shake was on the menu. They were a fun bunch. She loved her team.
Reaching the third floor, she froze upon seeing the lights on in her apartment. Levi had stopped walking her to her door two weeks ago. It was unnecessary, but Nadia wondered if Murphy’s Law was at work.
Or maybe it was a case of Garrison breaking in again.
It wasn’t the first time.
Was he in LA? Was that why he tried to reach her?
Her heart pounded.
She wasn’t sure if it was from anticipation.
Perhaps her blood pressure just spiked at his audacity.
She stopped and unslung her backpack from her shoulder to get her stun gun.
A figure detached from the shadows behind the stair wall.
She jumped, yelping.
“I sure hope you’re not thinking of using that on me,” a voice said.
“Asshole!” Nadia whisper-yelled, her hand on the weapon which was still in her bag. How did he know she wasn’t just reaching for her keys? “Would you stop sneaking up on people?”
John revealed his face under the hallway lights. “I thought I gave you enough warning.” He jerked his head toward the lit apartment.
“And stop breaking into my place.”
“Maybe if you’d install the necessary security I’ve been telling you to—”
If smoke could come out of her ears. “Is this your way of proving a point?”
“Take it however you please.” His eyes glittered and he nudged her forward. “Can we take this inside?”
“What’s the matter?” she retorted, stalking away from him. “Hallway conversations too uncomfortable for your spooky ass?”
“Not at all,” he returned mildly. “Especially since your nosy neighbors are playing poker.”
Nadia clamped her mouth shut. Of course he knew what was going on in this apartment complex before he graced it with his presence. He probably knew what time each resident walked their dog and took out their trash. When they came upon her door, she didn’t even bother with keys and twisted the handle knowing it was unlocked. Entering the apartment, she flung her backpack on the armchair before spinning on the heels of her scuffed boots to glare at her unwanted visitor.
“Why are you here?” she gritted.
He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, casually crossing his arms. “You’d know if you’d answered your phone.”
God grant her the patience not to throw the vase on the console table at his head. That would be a waste of vase and flowers. “I don’t answer calls from numbers I don’t know. You should have left a message.”
“I don’t leave voice messages on phones I haven’t vetted.”
Nadia raised a brow. “Unfortunately, I don’t answer to terse texts like ‘answer your fuckin’ phone’.”
A telltale muscle ticked beneath his right eye.
“I need your help,” he replied without inflection.
How could he so blatantly stand there and ask for her help? “So cut to the chase. Tell me what you need, and I might consider helping you.”
Or not.
“Kenneth Huxley.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Ken? Don’t tell me he’s on the government watch list. If that asshole from Homeland Security hadn’t goaded him to break into their database, he wouldn’t have tried.”
Garrison straightened from his lean against the door. “Ego has a way of making the smartest men do the stupidest things.”
Nadia couldn’t argue with that. She’d known Ken before he’d gained notoriety in the DHS hack. They’d moved in the same IT circles since she’d been a gamer. As her work in the LAPD took her into the branch of forensics science, she’d lost touch with him. Until two years ago when she’d been called as a character witness by the feds in their investigation into Ken. She stood up for him even if she thought he was an idiot for hacking into Homeland Security.
“If you’re asking me to spy on him …”
“Have you heard of his Crown-Key technology?”
“Yes. It’s an improvement from what he used when he targeted DHS.”
“We want to offer him protection.”
“He’s not going to go for it, especially after the government tried to crucify him.”
Garrison left his position at the door and prowled toward her.
Nadia stood her ground. She wasn’t tiny, but even at five-seven, John towered above her. She put his height at six-three, give or take. His dark hair was thick and needed a cut, but those gray wisps that winged his temples and threaded a trim beard made him a walking, talking, sexy male specimen of rakish charm and mature confidence.
It was a wonder women didn’t throw their panties at him whenever he ambled by. Maybe it was a blessing he stayed in the shadows. Nadia doubted she was the only female who felt the mating call whenever John was around. Sensuality oozed from this man’s pores.
Bad. Bad. Powell.
A cocky gleam entered his indigo eyes as he studied her face. Shit, did he know where her mind just went?
“It’s a matter of national security,” he said, the smirk teasing the corners of his mouth.
“Ken wouldn’t do anything to hurt the country.”
“Rogue states would love to get a hold of his technology.”
She stilled. “Where did you hear this?”
Garrison turned away and walked to the couch where Nadia noticed his duffel sitting beside it on the floor. “I haven’t heard anything yet.”
“Bullshit.” She stepped toward him. “You wouldn’t be here if that were the case.”
He spun toward her and pinned her with a stare. “My job is not to react, Powell. My job is to anticipate possible threats to this country. I don’t have to tell you that wars among nations are not staged with guns and troop movements. It’s gone cyber. The clusterfuck of the SillianNet malware is only the beginning, and now Thomas Brandt is dead, and we know it’s not suicide.”
Nadia remained silent. Kelso hadn’t mentioned that the Counter Terrorism Task Force (CTTF) was working with Garrison again, so she wasn’t commenting on the investigation or her findings.
His eyes squinted at her. “You’re not talking.”
“I don’t comment on ongoing investigations.”
The tic under his eye returned. She’d gotten used to his tells. Currently, he was trying not to say something that would piss her off and derail his chances of gaining her cooperation.
He backed up a step as though to give her space.
Another sign he was trying to make her feel more relaxed.
However, that had the opposite effect and made her more wary. “I told you. I’m done helping you. You’re the CIA. You have resources at your disposal, especially since you report directly to the DNI.”
“Right now, you’re my best resource.”
“Get out,” Nadia fumed. “Take your things with you.” She turned away from him and grabbed her backpack off the armchair. “See yourself out and lock the fucking door.”
“I have an upgrade to your Wasp 10k.”
She paused and then slowly turned around. “What?” she asked weakly. Her geeky heart pounded with the rhythm of a thousand drums.
John approached her stealthily much like a jungle cat would prowl toward its prey.
As for Nadia, she was feeling like a fly being lured into a pot full of honey.
His mouth twitched. “Weren’t you complaining about the camera?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve got higher resolution and faster frame refresh rate. The new Wasp is installed with a visual intelligence app.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope.”
“Tell me more.”
John grinned. Damn him. He knew he had her hook, line, and sinker.
After enumerating the Wasp’s new features, he asked, “Do you want to see it?”
“Yes, but what do you want in return?”
“It’s all yours if you go with me to this event tonight.”
“Event?” she frowned. “Tonight?”
“I’ve secured us an invitation to Huxley’s shindig at his penthouse.”
She pulled back her shoulders. “It’s sneaky of you to take advantage of my gadget-loving heart.” Or gadget-whore heart, but she didn’t say that aloud. “But you need to give me more than a future cyber threat if you want my help. I’m not following you blindly, John. I need to know it’s worth it before I piss off the best pen tester on the planet and have his wrath rain down on me.”
“Didn’t figure you for a chicken.”
Nadia’s eyes narrowed. “Chicken. No? But pissing off Ken Huxley is suicidal and that I’m not. And you know that to be true, otherwise the DHS would’ve used more convincing methods to get him onboard.”
John’s mouth tightened as they squared off. “We’re concerned with the Ukrainian hacking group.”
“Argonayts?”
“Yes. Since you’re not keen on sharing, I’ll tell you this. I believe Brandt’s death is not suicide, but an effort by the Argonayts to silence anyone who can expose them.”
“You have proof of that?”
“I have an asset in Ukraine who has the evidence, and I believe there are more targets.”
“Huxley’s Crown-Key.”
“Yes. If Huxley comes under Homeland Security protection, he will have the backing of the U.S. government to go after any rogue state or cyber actor that tries to exploit his technology. He will not end up dead like Brandt with our hands tied to go after his murderer.”
Damn, he made a strong point, and if the Argonayts were in any way connected to Brandt’s murder then …
She rubbed her brow before peering at John. “You’re going to do the talking. All I have to do is get him to a place where you can make your case.”
“Fair enough.”
“And you’re going to hand-over that Wasp right now.”
John headed to the black duffel laying on the floor and lifted a black case from its depths and held it out to her. “Done.”
She suppressed the urge to snatch it from his hands, calmly taking the black container from him and flipping the lid open. There, nestled in foam that had been laser cut to accommodate the shape, sat three shiny Wasp drones looking more badass than her last ones.
Her geeky heart did a happy jig.
Nadia staredat herself in the mirror, feeling a tiny bit of guilt in agreeing to Garrison’s plan to draw Ken into the protection of the spy agency. Of course, it wouldn’t be the CIA on record. They would still be Homeland Security. Ken had always had a crush on her. Before he hit his first million and aside from the gaming community, they were both into cosplay. One year she dyed her hair black and dressed in full-goth after getting the dragon tattoo on her right arm.
Right then and there, she became Ken’s dream girl, and he called her Lisbeth—as in Lisbeth Salander, the hacker genius in the book “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.”
She wasn’t about to dye her hair black again. Honestly, she’d been thinking of going back to her strawberry blond roots. However, Nadia had been digging the platinum blonde hair lately and more than debated in bleaching it almost to white until her trusty hairstylist advised against it, saying it would make her look ghostly.
Decisions. Decisions.
Good thing shoes were an easier choice.
Just buy more of them. Nadia was a lover of funky shoes. She peered at the pair currently hugging her legs. Suede over-the-knee boots paired with a black, slinky cami-dress that hit above mid-thigh. The style certainly displayed the dragon tattoo on her arm. Dark kohl lined her eyes, and her lipstick was darkish red, almost maroon.
Garrison said to dress sexy. He intended to use her for a distraction in their plan to lure Ken to an area where he could talk to the tech millionaire. Flirting with Ken with John’s encouragement somehow soured her stomach.
Her eyes flared as she saw herself in the mirror.
Dress sexy.
She would show him sexy.
She exited the bedroom just as Garrison was buttoning up a black dress shirt that he left open at the collar. Gold chains hung around his neck, and he had a gaudy gold ring on his finger. He had sleeked back his hair and she was suspicious that he’d done something to his nose. It looked a bit wider at the base and he appeared to have slathered on an orange tanner. He had the seventies Italian mobster vibe down pat.
Nadia smiled inwardly when John’s eyes darkened, and his jaw clenched into a hard line.
“I said to dress sexy, not give Ken Huxley a heart attack.”
She shrugged her shoulders while she strutted further into the living room. The three-inch heels on her boots certainly gave her more elevation so she could stare more closely at John’s face.
Eyes narrowing at his nose, she asked, “Is that a prosthetic appliance?”
He frowned and touched it briefly. “Is it obvious?”
“Only because I know what your real nose looks like.”
“I can see the outline of your nipples. Maybe you should change into something else.”
“Why? I’m proud of my boobs,” she retorted. “Do you know how many chest exercises I had to do so these girls stay up without support? Besides, I don’t get to dress like this often.”
She backed away and made a full turn, knowing that John had probably spied her bare ass cheeks because she was wearing a thong. Nadia thought she heard him give a strangled groan, but when she turned back to face him, his face was impassive.
“Are you ready?” he asked brusquely.
“I’ll just grab my wrap.”
“Good idea,” he muttered when she disappeared into her bedroom.
When she returned to the living room, Nadia was surprised to see her father scowling at John. Surprising, because her dad used to like Garrison. But this time, displeasure emanated from her father’s body language.
“Are you dragging my daughter into another one of your secret missions?” Stephen asked.
John said nothing.
“Dad, stop it.” She inserted herself between them. “Garrison needs a little help, that’s all.”
Her father’s scowl deepened. “Then why are you dressed that way?” His gaze lifted past her shoulders. “You disappear for weeks and, when you return, you’re taking my daughter to a club. What’s this, a date?”
Nadia’s face flamed. “No! John needs help—”
“With one of her contacts,” Garrison inserted smoothly. “I swear, Stephen, this has nothing to do with you or the Ukrainians who were after you. Everyone involved has been arrested. This is something else entirely.”
“Can you leave us for a minute, John?” Her father looked at her. “I’d like to speak to my daughter.”
“We were getting ready to leave, anyway. I’ll wait for you outside.” Without saying another word, John left her alone with her dad.
He didn’t say anything for a while, just stared at her. Not able to hold his gaze, she looked away. “Why are you here? It’s too early for poker night to be over.”
“We ran out of whiskey. I was heading to my apartment but I saw your lights on and thought to say hi. I was not expecting to see John here.” Stephen sighed. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for him to keep dragging you into things. You have enough on your plate with the LAPD.”
Nadia would agree if Garrison’s case wasn’t so related to hers.
“And I don’t like that you’re disappearing into yourself.”
Not sure where her father was going with this, she caught his gaze. “What do you mean?”
“I can’t keep track of who you are,” he said. He gestured to her outfit. “This is not you.”
“Dad, this is sort of a disguise.”
“A disguise? Or is it because you don’t know who you want to be?”
“You never said this when I cosplayed.”
“You were in your teens.” He stared at his feet. “And it was my fault.”
“Dad, we’ve talked about this.”
He raised his eyes, and her heart cried at the torment in them.
“I should have been honest with you about our situation here in America from the start.”
She gave a sad smile. “You were trying to protect me.”
“You went from being a precocious and confident child to a teenager trying to hide from the world.”
Stephen was talking about that day they were suddenly uprooted from their suburban home in Virginia after an agency leak exposed them to Russian assassins once more. She was twelve when she discovered the truth of their immigration to the United States. Her father had been a defector and not simply a pharmacist. Eight months of safe houses ensued, and, with it, the need for disguise. In Nadia’s young mind, that was coloring her hair, or changing her hair cut, wearing different styles of clothes, or noticing how wearing glasses changed her look drastically. It wasn’t until Halloween during their sixth month of hiding that she discovered the power of costumes, and how she could transform into someone else.
She reached out and gave her dad’s arm a squeeze. “I turned out okay, didn’t I? And I enjoyed cosplay. Being a geek is my calling.”
“I was happy when you found a job with the LAPD.”
“See?”
“But somehow I feel like you’ve reverted into not knowing who you are again,” he sighed. “I think John is a bad influence.”
“I’m not arguing there,” Nadia laughed. “But not in the way you mean.”
“Do you really think that man knows who he is?”
Stephen stared at her for a few seconds longer, and then he gave one shake of his head and disappeared out her back door.