Mine - HelenKay Dimon Page 0,16
specific details of where a team, or in this case Gabe, took an asset stayed with the team leader. The fewer who knew the safe location, the better.
“You can point me in the right direction and I’ll ferret the rest out.” Typical Rick. He didn’t dig for details because he had to know there were none to give. So, he circled back and ran at the problem another way. “Look, the CIA wants a check-in with Natalie now. That means surveillance and proof she is upholding her end of the deal. I get why she ran, and it was smart, but her being in hiding isn’t helping to smooth over the concerns.”
On one level Andy appreciated what Rick was trying to do—handle the matter on his terms, which made it less likely Gabe would need to take action. But this still amounted to an assignment implosion. Rick might act as though officials only contacted him, but there could be others. Rick could accidentally be leading the real killers right to Natalie.
“Your job sucks.” In that moment, Andy thought they all needed to rethink their chosen career paths. Forget his war hero father. Forget the mother he lost too young. Doing this shit day after day took a toll.
“If my men do the check, we don’t need to worry about the safety of Gabe and Natalie. I can make this happen. Bring Gabe home faster and safe.”
“You owe him,” Andy said, adding the unspoken words he wanted out in the open.
“Like I don’t know that.”
That was something. Andy chalked it up to personal growth or some such shit, but still. “He’s going to fucking hate the idea of you stepping into the middle of his assignment.”
“I’ll send a man. Gabe won’t kill him. We can work together on this without the CIA really knowing.”
Andy almost hated to ask the question. “Then what?”
A shrug. An exhale. Rick worked his way through all the gestures before finally spitting out a sentence. “After the job is done I’ll work on repairing the personal damage.”
That struck Andy as a “too late” issue, but he didn’t say it. “Remind me to take a vacation during those days. Preferably one out of the country.”
“I’ll get him to listen to me.”
“It’s like you don’t know our brother at all.” After all these years, after all the fighting, Andy didn’t understand how that level of ignorance was possible.
But Rick would learn that the hard way, just like he did with everything else. For being the oldest Rick sure did screw up the concept of family loyalty pretty often. Between Rick’s stubbornness and Gabe’s refusal to even listen, Andy had just about had it with being the youngest MacIntosh brother.
“He’ll forgive me.” Rick said the words, but the rock-hard certainty of his voice stumbled on the delivery.
Andy could not imagine a world where that could happen, and he really couldn’t blame Gabe for making any truce difficult. “You know something I don’t?”
Rick shook his head. “He can’t stay mad forever.”
That sick feeling of rawness crept back into Andy’s gut. Yeah, Rick didn’t get Gabe at all.
FIVE
Gabe lifted the handle and swung the maul. The tool looked like a cross between an axe and a sledgehammer. He’d found it in the supply shed along with large pieces of wood, clearly cut by a chainsaw earlier in the season, before the snow started to fall. Cutting them even smaller seemed like the best way to burn off energy without doing it the way he wanted to do it.
He set the head of the maul in the log and lifted. It glided through the air, straight down in a vertical line through a mix of gravity, momentum and strength. He enjoyed the rhythmic thumping as he whacked into the middle of each block. The repetitive motion started a welcome burning in his shoulders.
The snow had stopped falling and the wind died down. The exercise kept him warm in his quilted flannel jacket and thick boots as he worked. So did her stare. He could feel it as the sweat rolled down his back. Natalie, on the porch, watching.
“How do you entertain the other women you bring up here?” she asked, the amusement obvious in her tone.
Just the sound of her voice sent a flush of warmth racing through him. “This is a safe house, not the back of a Chevy.”
He lifted the maul again and brought it down with a heavy thwack. Sending the quarters flying brought a kick of satisfaction. Gave him