Logan, p.8
Logan, page 8
Glancing back at the note, he realized he’d been gone for a long time and hadn’t told her what he was doing or where he was going. When he worked alone, he didn’t have to worry about a partner or telling anyone his whereabouts. In a significant shift, he acknowledged that if he was going to be an example for the other Keepers, he needed to work and communicate with Vivian.
After chastising himself, he looked across the hall to where her door was closed. He moved to it, his hand on the doorknob before hesitating. The desire to open the door to see that she was safe was unnervingly strong. I can’t just open her bedroom door. I can’t just peek in. What if—fuck it, I need to see that she’s safe.
He opened the door slowly, and his eyes quickly adjusted to the dark room. The soft moonlight peeked in through the slit in the closed curtains, revealing an unmoving lump in the bed. He stepped closer, allowing light from the hall to shine on the bed. Her dark hair flowed out behind her on the pillow as she lay on her side facing him. Her eyelashes made thick crescents on her cheeks, and her mouth, for once not talking, was slightly open, her breaths deep and even.
Nothing about the day had been what he’d expected. From her defiance to her melodious voice, he was caught off guard. When she’d laughed at his reticence over pretending to be a couple, he refused to admit he hadn’t been part of a couple in a long time and that his only experience with it was just a college romance that lasted a few months. When wanting company, it was easy enough to find a willing woman, usually a tourist passing through Cut Bank or the SEAL bunnies years earlier. Lately, it had been his hand he’d been wedded to.
Now, unwanted, unexpected, and unneeded ideas of what he’d like to do with Vivian slid through his mind. From the moment she announced who she was, he’d felt this assignment was a mistake. Comments about his gas-guzzling truck and then defiance in following orders had him recognize fully that this wouldn’t go easily. Used to those under him obeying without argument, her defiance had rubbed him the wrong way. But her willingness to work with him and eagerness to do what she could to make the situation better caused guilt over his earlier harshly spoken words.
The floorboards creaked underneath his weight, and he inwardly cursed, but Vivian never moved. Satisfied she was safe, he backed out of the room, closing the door behind him. A slight grin slid over his face as he thought about how deeply she slept. He was trained to sleep light, to be awake and aware in an instant. But her? She looked as though she could sleep through fireworks.
His cock stirred at the thought of her tucked into bed, but he tamped down any thoughts of sex with the pretty Viv. His frown now back firmly in place, he headed to wash up in the tiny-ass, shared bathroom. It didn’t miss his notice that it was neat, with no evidence of her personal items at all.
Glad for the hot water, he showered quickly. Back in his bedroom, dressed in cutoff sweatpants and a T-shirt, he set his bag off the bed after checking his weapons. The rooms were small, only fitting a twin-sized bed with a scuffed wooden headboard, a chest of drawers, and a wooden door that opened to a small closet. Vivian had closed the curtains, but he moved to the window, barely pulling them to the side once his light was out, and looked next door. Their lights were out as well now. His run in the dark included reconnaissance on the neighbor’s property.
And that was what led him to his next call. Glad to hear Donald answer sleepily, he hoped he woke up the fucker. “What the hell were you thinking?”
A heavy sigh met his ears. “Look, Logan. You were the best person for me to send. I know that your LSI team is involved, but I also knew you’d be the one to take this assignment. Ms. Sanders was chosen because she had the scientific knowledge you need and the appearance to fit in easily. I know I can trust you to take care of her, work with her, and figure out a way to make the mission successful.”
“And the end of the mission? If termination is necessary?”
“Then I also trust you to keep her out of it.”
Silence fell between the two, and Donald finally broke it. “Look, Logan. You’re making this more difficult than it has to be. If you’re going to lead a team for LSI, then you need to figure out how to work with people in all kinds of situations again. Not just the ones who call you boss, but ones who will challenge you.”
“And you think little Ms. Sanders is the one to challenge me?”
A deep chuckle came across the line. “Logan, my man… I think she already has.”
Donald disconnected, leaving Logan to stare at his phone for a few minutes. Finally, giving up the pretense of wondering how the hell everything would work out with the aggravating woman, he tossed his phone to the nightstand.
Satisfied there was nothing else to be done tonight, he pulled back the covers and slid into bed. As his head hit the pillow, the soft floral scent of Vivian encircled him, filling his nostrils. For an instant, he thought that perhaps he should have changed the sheets. But as he relaxed into sleep, he liked that her scent surrounded him.
12
Vivian’s eyelids fluttered opened, and the world gradually seeped into her consciousness. It took her a moment to remember where she was. Always a deep sleeper, she lay for several minutes, enveloped in disorientation until the sunlight coming through the slit between the curtains and the sound of boots moving down the hall pierced through the mental fog.
Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she pulled on her woolen socks as a desperate, primal urge for coffee overrode all other needs. She staggered out of her bedroom in a mindless quest for caffeine, barely noting Logan’s bedroom door was open. Shuffling into the kitchen, she rounded the corner and viewed the back of him.
Tall and sinewy. His tight, long-sleeved T-shirt pulled across his back and fit along his trim waist. His jeans hung just right on his ass, but she could tell he didn’t care about his clothes or how they looked on him. He exuded confidence just in his bearing.
She was still gawking when he looked over his shoulder, catching her standing there. His lips quirked slightly, sending a jolt of awareness coursing through her veins. Holy hell. It wasn’t much of a smile, but she wasn’t sure she’d be able to handle the force of his gorgeousness if he offered a full smile. Especially not without caffeine first.
“You’ve got a pillow crease on your cheek.”
“Huh?” She kept her gaze down, now focused on the mug of coffee he had in his hand.
“Viv? You awake?”
Her eyes jumped to his, and she shook her head. “Nuh-uh. Coffee.”
He filled another mug and set it down before placing the creamer and the sweetener packets on the counter.
She fixed her coffee and then glanced at the very black brew in his mug. “How’d you know how I liked my coffee?”
“Creamer was in the refrigerator, and the sweetener was on the counter.”
Wondering if she’d ever get used to his short way of speaking, she circled her hands around the warm mug, holding it close. Her eyes closed as she inhaled deeply. After taking a few sips while he stood at the stove fixing bacon and eggs, she finally asked, “When did you get in last night?”
“Late. You were already asleep.”
No response seemed necessary, so she continued slurping. He plated the bacon and eggs, then moved past her to set them on the table. She remained standing in the same position, her hip leaning against the counter as though it were holding her up.
“You gonna eat?” he asked, taking a seat.
“Uh-huh,” she mumbled as she shuffled to the table and sat down. Sniffing appreciatively, she nodded her thanks as she shoveled a forkful of scrambled eggs into her mouth. “This is good.”
He eyed her carefully. “Are you always this much of a zombie in the morning?”
Blinking, she halted the fork on its path to her mouth. “I’m not a zombie.”
“Viv, you sleep like the dead. I checked on you last night, and you didn’t even stir. I checked on you this morning, and you were lying in the same position as though you hadn’t moved all night. Now, you can barely speak a sentence and look like you’re going to face-plant right into the middle of your eggs. I’d call that a zombie.”
Vivian opened and closed her mouth several times, but no response came. How did he do that? Reduce her to silence. And he calls me Viv. No one calls me Viv. Her parents sometimes called her Vivie, but that sounded too much like her teenage years. But Viv? Her lips curved up slowly as she turned her attention back to her plate. “I just need caffeine in the morning.”
As he finished his breakfast, he pushed his chair back, stretching his long legs in front of him. “Thanks for taking care of changing bedrooms last night. I need to be on that side to keep track of the house next door at night for any unusual noises or visitors.”
Realizing he was ready to talk business, she finished quickly and took their plates to the sink. Rinsing them, she left them for later and poured two more cups of coffee. She doctored hers and left his black before setting it in front of him. “Here’s your unsullied cup of coffee.” Taking her creamed and sweetened cup to the opposite side of the table, she sat down.
“Unsullied?” He chuckled.
Not having heard him chuckle before, she stared for a second. The rumble came from deep in his chest, wrapped around her like a hug, and her breath caught in her lungs. She looked down, trying to hide her grin. “Yeah…it’s unsullied with anything to make it remotely drinkable. But that’s the way you like it, right?” she asked, looking up to see him smile. And her breath caught once again.
After taking a sip of his brew, he nodded. “Okay, we need to talk about our plans.” He leaned a long arm over to the counter, snagging a folder and laying it out in front of them.
She slid her chair next to him so they could view it together.
“Were you given any details about the suspects?” he asked.
Shaking her head, she answered, “No.” Biting the corner of her lip, she altered her reply. “Other than they were suspected terrorists. But, honestly, that means little to me.”
His sharp gaze met hers, and she quickly added, “It’s not that I’m ignorant, but there are many terrorist sects, and the particulars weren’t shared with me. I’m just interested in the possible chemical and biological combinations and mixtures that can be made. Unlike explosives, the results can be easy to hide. They don’t have to be completely volatile.”
Turning to the first page of the notebook, she observed the pictures in front of her: one man and one woman. Tapping the two pictures, he said, “This is Akram Zaman. The house is rented in his name. The lease includes his wife, Farrah. Whether or not they are actually married, we can’t say for sure. We do know they didn’t come straight to Alaska. They immigrated to Chicago, and it appears they spent time in Denver as well. He’s been on the radar because of the past company he’s kept—members of other known ISIS cells. They moved to Fairbanks almost two years ago, where they leased an apartment near the university. Akram was active in the local mosque and began spending time at the university, hosting gatherings for other Muslims.” Snorting, he added, “That sounds good, except he was recruiting for his organization, not socializing with peace-loving students.”
She listened attentively, studying the photographs carefully so she could identify them when she saw them.
“They took out a lease on this house about two months ago.” Flipping to the next page of photographs, he continued, “And these people seem to be the most frequent visitors. Malik Jones, Rashad Smith, and Nafisa Fariq. All university students majoring in biology or chemistry. There have been other visitors since they’ve been under suspicion, but these are the most frequent.”
“How on earth do you already know all that?”
Logan looked up, his brows lowering. “I may have just been handed this mission a couple of days ago, but DHS has been gathering intel for a while.”
Eyes widening, she asked, “But if they know all that, then why are we needed?”
“Not all intel can be gathered by computers or satellites or—”
“Satellites?” She leaned back in her chair, shaking her head. “But…but…that sounds like something out of a movie.”
“Movies are shit. I work in the real world.”
Vivian sucked in her lips, her mind swirling with questions.
He held her gaze. “What are you thinking?”
Her gaze jumped to his. “How did you know I was pondering something?”
“Viv, you’d better not play poker. Your face hides nothing. In fact…” His mouth pinched as he rubbed his jaw. Leaning back in his seat, he pinned her with a hard stare and sighed. “This whole thing may be a big mistake.”
She bristled. “Are you saying I’m a mistake?”
His gaze was piercing as he nodded slowly, but his voice was softer. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“I’ll have you know—”
Throwing his hand up, he said, “Don’t get riled up. This isn’t personal. But why the hell did the DHS security think it was a good idea to put a woman with no investigative, security, or military experience out here? Viv, your face is an open book, easy for anyone to read.”
“I was sent to analyze the materials and compounds they’re using and creating. I can test what you find and let you know what it is.”
“And our cover? Jesus, it’s more than just us living in the same house. We’ll see them out in the yard…maybe at the store. Sure, you can act the part of my wife from a distance, but how will you ever shutter your face so they can’t see your suspicion when we’re close?”
Shoving her chair back, she stood quickly and entered the living room. Embarrassment and frustration moved through her. He might be a man of few words, but he sure knew how to make her feel inadequate with those words.
Logan sighed heavily, then she heard the sound of his chair scraping along the wooden floor. As she stood motionless in the middle of the room, his boot steps came closer until he placed his hands on her shoulders and gently turned her around.
“Viv, I’m sorry,” he said. “I swear, I’m not trying to be a hard-ass. I’m just used to working either alone or with a trained team.”
Vivian’s eyes stayed on his chest, not trusting herself to look higher although his muscles right in front of her face were distracting. Nodding jerkily, she continued to stare straight ahead. She blinked while refusing to let him see the moisture in her eyes.
He lifted her chin with his finger, and for a long moment, the silence hung between them. Finally, he said, “Let’s get back to planning, okay?”
Shrugging, she lifted her gaze. “What’s the point? As far as you’re concerned, I’m not right for this job.”
Logan simply tugged on her arm, leading her to the sofa. Once seated, he twisted to face her. “I was a SEAL.”
A SEAL? At that pronouncement, Vivian’s gaze jumped to his as her mouth opened in stunned silence.
“Guess you know something about SEALs.”
Not wanting to admit she read SEAL romances, she snorted. “Not officially, but yeah, I know a little. Mostly from TV, movies, and…uh...books.” She thought about what she knew—they were some of the best of the best, could take on any mission, and were highly trained. Understanding dawned, and defeat filled her voice. “I’m so not what you’re used to. You’re right… this is a mistake.”
They sat quietly for a few minutes, and she tried to think how her superiors would react if she went home in disgrace. While she’d never had aspirations of espionage, she still hated to fail at anything.
Finally, Logan said, “Look, maybe we’re both thinking of this all wrong.” Her brows lifted in surprise, and he continued, “In a SEAL team, we each had our own strengths, our own particular jobs that we were to accomplish, but we worked as one—seamless. We spent so much time together that we could read each other’s faces and body language.”
A faraway expression filled his eyes for a few seconds, then he seemed to snap back to the present. “We knew the mission, planned it out, but could change on a dime and reassess what needed to be done. And this only came with intense, twenty-four-seven training over a long period. When I started taking on assignments by myself, I had no one else to consider in my decisions.”
She nodded, dejection still on her face. “What you’re saying only proves why we can’t make this work.”
“No, no,” he said, shaking his head. “It just means that I need to change what I’m used to. And so do you. I’m not on a SEAL team anymore, and you’re not stuck in a lab.”
“But how do we do this now…with no time for training together?”
He stared into her eyes and seemed lost.
“Logan?”
Blinking rapidly, he looked away, clearing his throat before turning his attention back to her. “We need to be clear on what our different roles are. We need to carefully review the information we have, but I’m not going to force you to learn anything outside your need to know. After all, if we were just newlyweds moving to the neighborhood, you wouldn’t know their names ahead of time. You’d stumble over their names. Hell, you might even get the names mixed up if you saw a different person over there.”
Nodding, she agreed. “Okay, so I need to review the information as to what you know and what you’ll be doing, but I need to keep to my role of just a neighbor until you bring over samples for me to analyze?”
“Yeah, that sounds about right.” Looking up suddenly, he ordered, “But I don’t want you over there by yourself. At all. Do you understand me?”
Crinkling her brow, she shook her head. “But why? What if we get invited over for…for…I don’t know. Maybe coffee?”
Incredulity hit him. “Jesus, Viv. You think a terrorist is going to invite you over for coffee?”
