Undercover Wife

Maggie and Adam could have stayed. They’d both taken direct calls from past presidents and were still cleared at the highest levels. But Lightning now shouldered responsibility for OMEGA. Unwilling to intrude on his turf, they joined the general exodus.

The operatives headed for the elevator that would whisk them to the ultra-high-tech Operations Center on the third floor of the town house. Hawk hesitated several seconds before he, too, strode toward the elevator.

Adam’s eyes were narrowed as he followed the man’s progress. Maggie’s were thoughtful. Hooking her chin, she signaled for Jilly to accompany her to the ladies’ room just off the first-floor foyer.

“Okay, daughter of mine.” Leaning her hips against the marble counter, Maggie crossed her arms. “Tell me again, no frills, no fuss. How much of your decision to join OMEGA’s ranks stems from a real desire to work undercover and how much from a determination to prove to Mike Callahan that you’re all grown up?”

Jilly didn’t blink. “I’m one hundred percent…on both counts.”

Maggie eyed her daughter for long moments. She knew Hawk’s paternalistic and overly protective attitude irritated Jilly no end. The irritation had increased exponentially since their trip to Scotland. Maggie thought of all the advice she could offer and reduced it to one caution.

“Don’t push him too hard, Jilly. You might not like it when he pushes back.”

Her daughter’s jet-black brows snapped together. She looked so much like her father when he was annoyed that Maggie’s heart kicked over.

“You and Dad have known Hawk for years. This is the first time you’ve ever hinted that you have a problem with him.”

“We don’t. We would trust him with our lives.”

“But not with your daughter. What do you know about him that I don’t?”

Maggie hooked a strand of golden-brown hair behind one ear, considering her answer. She’d cheerfully rip out the heart of anyone who threatened her husband or children. But she had to weigh that fierce, primal love against her loyalty to the men and women she’d lived, worked and sweated blood with for so many years.

“I don’t know the details,” she said slowly. “No one does. Hawk has never talked about why he left the military, but…”

“But?”

“Your father ran into his former commanding officer at some function or another. The general didn’t go into specifics, but he did say Hawk hung up his uniform after a botched mission in Central America. Hawk went in with two other operatives. One of them didn’t make it out. The general didn’t say so but the implication was he buried his heart with her there in that steamy jungle.”

“Her?” Jilly echoed softly. “That explains a lot.”

“I thought it might. Tread carefully, sweetheart.”

Maggie couldn’t resist giving her daughter’s silky black hair a gentle yank. Where was the wide-eyed toddler who’d pulled up the just-planted pansies to decorate her mudpies? What happened to the mischievous little girl who loved to dress an ungainly iguana in doll clothes, deposit him in her baby sister’s buggy and stroll nonchalantly around the block? When had the giggling teen with braces grown into this smart, self-assured woman?

With a silent sigh, Maggie gave her daughter’s hair another tug and shooed her out of the ladies’ room. “You’d better go see what that call was about, Special Agent-in-Training Ridgeway.”

She tried to contain her emotion as she watched Jilly make for the elevator, but her husband knew her too well.

“She’ll be okay.”

Adam forced a smile as he looked down into his wife’s face, but acid rolled around in his stomach at the thought of what lay ahead of his darling, his little princess. He’d been out there. So had Maggie. Her exploits in the field had aged Adam well beyond his years. Remembering those turbulent times, his smile relaxed into a rueful grin.

“She’ll be okay,” he repeated. “She’s her mother’s daughter.”

The atmosphere inside OMEGA’s third-floor Control Center left no doubt in Jilly’s mind. Something was up. Something big.

She’d been up to the busy Control Center any number of times while filling in for Elizabeth. But the realization that one of those amber lights on the digitized world map that took up an entire wall would soon represent her sent a shiver of excitement down her spine.

Most of the agents had already dispersed, some to milk OMEGA’s computers, some to work the phones. Lightning stood at the main console with Hawk, their eyes glued to the data scrolling across a monitor.

They couldn’t be more different, Jilly thought as she approached the two men. With his tawny hair, deep tan and sartorial elegance, Lightning looked very much like the sophisticated jet-setter he now was.

Mike Callahan, on the other hand, looked very much like the man he was. Tough, uncompromising, no nonsense. He was more rugged than handsome, with a square chin and a mouth that rarely smiled. He wore his dark brown hair cut military short. His gold-flecked hazel eyes missed little. So little that Jilly had always believed that’s how he’d come by his code name of Hawkeye.

Until she’d seen him shoot, that is. The first time had been at an International Law Enforcement Tri-Gun Competition. Her parents had taken her to watch the final round, where Hawk scored top honors in the handgun and heavy metal categories. To his disgust, he’d come in second in the shotgun class. He rose to hero status in her eyes that day. She’d been trying to bring him down to the level of mere mortal ever since.

Soon, she vowed as both men acknowledged her arrival with a quick glance. Soon.

“What have we got?” she asked.

Her deliberate use of the plural produced a scowl from Hawk, but Lightning accepted her into the fold.

“Some sort of mutant virus,” he replied in a grim voice. “Scientists at the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service Forensics Lab found it a week ago when they autopsied the carcass of a…” He glanced at the computer monitor in front of him. “A nomascus concolor.”

Jilly didn’t even try to pretend she knew what that was.

“It’s a monkey,” Lightning informed her. “Or rather, a gibbon. A species of small ape native to southern China and Southeast Asia.”

He swiveled the monitor around to display a black, furry creature with tufts of white on his cheeks and impossibly long arms.

“It’s the most critically endangered ape species in the world. Supposedly, its very scarcity makes it highly prized as a sacrificial offering in certain far-out religious cults.”

The tiny ape on the screen stared back at Jilly with an inquisitive expression in his caramel-colored eyes. The thought of this cuddly little creature being carved up by religious fanatics raised goose bumps on her skin.

“Someone tossed the carcass of one of these gibbons into a ditch in California,” Lightning continued. “Both the road worker who discovered it and the animal-control officer who responded to his call are now in intensive care. Their docs are still trying to find the right combination of drugs to combat the virus infecting them.”

That was scary. Gillian knew all kinds of nasty diseases like HIV, SARS and Ebola were linked to primates. Now, apparently, a new one had appeared on the scene.

“How did this gibbon get into the States?”

“We don’t know. But the bug that killed it has proved so virulent that Homeland Security tasked one of their top agents to track down the person or persons who brought it in.” Lightning’s voice went flat and hard. “That agent was found this morning in a back alley in San Francisco, with a bone-handled knife through his throat.”

His glance cut to the operative standing stone-faced and rigid on the other side of the communications console.

“Hawk was just about to tell us why his name was the last word the agent uttered.”

The clatter of keyboards and hum of voices in the Control Center stilled. A tense silence descended until Hawk broke it with slow deliberation.

“Charlie Duncan and I served together. A long time ago. In Special Ops. He saved my life. My guess is he was hoping I’d repay the favor by hunting down whoever put that shiv through his throat.”

His rigidly controlled tone belied the feral light in his hazel eyes. For the first time in her life, Jilly was just a little afraid of him.

Her mother’s warning rang in her ears. But as quickly as the goosey feeling came, she shoved it aside. This was Mike Callahan. The man who’d cradled her against his chest, corrected her aim and taught her to put nine out of ten rounds dead center. He was big, certainly. Gruff, sometimes. Hot as hell, always. She refused to be afraid of a man she fully intended to bring to his knees.

Unaware of his fate, Hawk zeroed in on Lightning. “I want this mission.”

“You’ve got it.”