“No problem, boss.” The kid was game and Mack’s respect for him grew. Using psychic ability was draining and performing surgery psychically had to drain one’s strength even more. Paul hadn’t complained once.

Marc and Lucas closed in from either side and helped him as he staggered over to the table. Mack pretended not to notice. The kid deserved his pride remaining intact.

Paul dropped into a chair, taking the one just out of the light, probably to keep anyone from noticing a resemblance to his father. The pair had become adept at distancing their relationship publicly.

Joe was wary, looking around, noting each man, his gaze dwelling for a moment on Ethan, the IV, blood, and Jaimie lying asleep, so pale, beside the obviously wounded man. He waited for Kane to move in front of him before crossing into the kitchen area.

“Looks like you’ve had some trouble,” he greeted. His gaze shifted to the sergeant major and back to Jaimie and Ethan.

“You could say that,” Mack agreed.

“Is Jaimie all right? And your man?”

“Ethan Myers,” Mack provided. “Jaimie’s tired. She gave blood. Ethan will be fine.” He said it with more confidence than he felt. “Everyone, this is Joe Spagnola.”

He waved his hand toward the table. “You want to sit down?”

“Maybe over here,” Joe said. He stayed clear of the light, away from the window, and where he knew no one had slipped behind him.

Mack sighed. “Joe, if we wanted you dead, it would have happened the first time you came up and we had a gun on you.”

Joe winced. He hadn’t spotted the man. “Which one of you?”

Mack gestured toward the bed. “There’s your man right there. He took a knife for the sergeant major.”

“I’ve got to meet him. He’s damn good.”

“All my men are good,” Mack said. “I thought, since you were hanging around, you might want some action.”

“You’re talking about the tough guys hanging around.”

“They’re Doomsday. They’re sniffing around the wharf looking for their weapons.

They had a deal with an arms dealer named Madigan. He’s known far and wide as the Spider. He likes tats, has about a dozen spiderwebs covering his back and torso and down his arms. We think the weapons are in the warehouse at the end of the block.

The deal was set and Madigan had a heart attack and is in intensive care at the hospital.”

“You taking the guns?” Joe asked.

“We’re not taking the chance of them falling into terrorist hands. We’ll take the weapons and tag a couple of the suspects. If they lead us to the nest, we can wipe them out for good.”

“Any chance of making the deal ourselves and taking them out that way?”

Mack sighed. “Madigan is too well-known, as are his men. We’ll have to get the weapons out of there before Shepherd and Estes decide to make their move and try to steal the guns. We think they’re getting ready to do just that.”

Joe nodded slowly. “I’d say you were right. There’s been a lot of activity this evening. I’ve spotted four.”

“Same number here. First we have to remove the weapons and take over the warehouse without tipping them off.”

“Should be easy enough,” Joe said.

Joe’s eyes took on a silver sheen, gleaming bright and hot as if the very thought of finally getting in on the adrenaline-laced action had changed the chemistry in his blood—or at least the energy surrounding him. Mack was beginning to understand the energy of the psychics was a little different with each one. Joe and Gideon shared something quite different, the layers shielding them from others. He glanced at Paul, still slumped with fatigue, his face in the shadows. Paul nodded once, the movement nearly imperceptible, but it was enough for Mack.

“Marc, you and Lucas take Paul back to the room and get him to bed. Make certain he drinks a lot of water. I need you in shape as fast as possible,” he added.

“I can handle it tonight,” Paul said.

Mack scowled at him. “I wasn’t asking. Get your ass back to that room and go to sleep. If he can’t sleep, Lucas, knock him out. Take the med kit with you. Are we clear, kid?”

Sergeant Major stirred. Mack shot him a warning look.

“Got it, boss,” Paul said.

He stood up, swaying slightly. Lucas and Marc immediately closed in on either side of him. Paul glanced at his father, nodded his head, and went out.

“What the hell happened?” Joe asked. “You’ve got three down.”

“Jaimie gave blood and you know how she is with violent energy,” Mack said vaguely. “She’ll be fine. Ethan and Paul will both come around.”

I’ve got something, boss. Javier’s voice slid into Mack’s mind seamlessly. The woman assassin was Lieutenant Roslyn Kramer, formerly of the army. This is her second death. The first time was three years ago in a car accident in Berlin. She’s a real ball-breaker, this one. And Mack, her file was flagged. The moment I accessed it, through a thousand walls—and yes, I am the greatest—someone began erasing it and back-tracing at the same time.

Mack swore. You’re on Jaimie’s computer. You’ll lead them right back to her.

Javier snorted. Give me some credit, Top. I was ready for them. After the first six firewalls and encryptions, I figured they’d be ready for a hacker. I knew the moment I got to the file, alarms would go off somewhere. I had part of it downloaded before the flag went up. The moment the trace started, I bailed.

Which database? The army?

Nope. Homeland Security has their own supersecret database no one knows about. We’re in there, boss. Want your file?

If it’s so damned supersecret, how did you know about it?

The amusement faded from Mack’s mind as Javier sobered. Okay, I didn’t know about it. Jaimie did. She has amazing programs, Mack, things I’ve never seen before.

I think she may have worked on some of these. Each person has a sort of signature code, and I swear some of these look like hers.

Mack wasn’t certain exactly what Javier was talking about, but he knew Jaimie worked on many programs for the various agencies. She developed self-learning programs that adapted as they were used. He’d heard her talk about her ideas, and loved the sound of her enthusiasm, but in truth, he didn’t understand half of what she said. He was proud of her accomplishments even if he’d never fully comprehend them. If she was developing extremely sensitive software for the various agencies, then chances were it was impossible to hack unless she was using her own program to hack it. Which meant that would lead them straight back to her door as well.

As for her databases, she either developed them herself, or she stole them. Jaimie was resourceful, which made her invaluable to Colonel Wilford whenever he wanted information for his teams. Mack knew she still worked for the colonel and because her skills were needed on the computer, they didn’t insist she do fieldwork. That and the fact that it was common knowledge that anyone wanting Jaimie was going to have to go through Mack to get her kept her safe.

He rubbed his pounding temples. He was exhausted with trying to keep so many people protected. Do you have anything on that address for me, Javier?

Javier didn’t ask which address and Mack was grateful. A headache was kicking in hard. Talk flowed around him, Kane had picked up the slack immediately, but Joe was watching his face and Mack knew little escaped those eagle eyes. He kept his face without expression.

It looks like a drop to me, Mack. An apartment building in Virginia.

Who owns the building? Who is the apartment registered to?

That’s the thing I find interesting. A man by the name of Earl Thomas Bartlett owns the building. He appears to have no social security number and no driver’s license, yet he owns several companies. There’s a Lansing International based in Nevada he recently acquired and a company called International Investments. He has an entire list of companies in various states, all international. He owns a Falcon 2000

executive jet that seems to be able to land on any of our military bases in any part of the world, which he acquired from Lansing before he ever took over the company.

And Mack . . . Jaimie has a file on him as well.

He shouldn’t have been surprised by anything she did, but he was. Jaimie was thorough. When she began digging, she wasn’t going to let anything stop her. What’s in the file?

I have no idea. Jaimie’s private files are encrypted. I wouldn’t be in the databases except that she gave me a password to use on this particular machine for the various databases she’s tapping into.

Javier, how much trouble is she in?

There was another long silence. Honestly, boss, it’s hard to tell with Jaimie. She covers her ass, and I don’t think a computer working on her encryption could break it in a hundred years—she’s that good. But she’s got stuff here I’ve never seen before.

And Mack. Javier hesitated. She’s not working alone.

The words were a punch in the gut. Mack cursed under his breath. Are you certain?

She’s not only backing up her work; she’s sending it to someone else.

Damn her. I swear I’m going to wrap my fingers around her throat and strangle her. Mack flexed his fingers and shot Jaimie a glare. Joe watching him be damned. He would shake her until her teeth rattled. Why hadn’t she told him?

Boss. If you kill her, do I get all this cool equipment?

I’m not in the mood, Javier. Who is it? Can you get me a name?

Not a chance, Top. Remember that encryption program Jaimie was telling us about? Well, she uses it. I can’t hack her mail.

Do whatever she did to get into Paul’s. You were there. She talked you right through it.

Not exactly. She knows the code, not me. She told me what she did, not how she did it. She has a backdoor into the program, boss, not me. I could search for . . .

Yeah, I get it. A hundred years.

More like a thousand, boss.

It felt like a betrayal to him. She had been corresponding with someone else, sharing her data, her conclusions, her suspicions—with someone other than him. And she hadn’t told him. Had he really lost her trust to that extent? The blow was enormous. He stood up so abruptly his chair nearly fell over. Kane caught it, shooting him a strange look, but Mack paced away from them, wishing them all gone. Needing them to be gone so he could be alone to reason out the why of it. Why had Jaimie kept this from him?

It seemed impossible to separate his emotions, as intense as they were. Jaimie was his. His world. They’d talked about resolving their issues. Hell, they’d shared the best sex he’d ever had in his life. Everything was right. But this . . . Why hadn’t she told him she wasn’t working alone on trying to expose Whitney and whoever was backing him?

Kane, get them out of here.

What’s wrong?

I’ll tell you later. After he strangled her.

He stalked across the room, vaguely aware of Kane closing down the meeting with the others, filling them in on the plan to retrieve the weapons. Mack stared down at Jaimie’s face. So innocent. So pale. Her midnight black hair, so dark it gleamed bluish black whenever the light hit it, only made her skin look almost a pearl white.

Her lashes were thick and long and every bit as dark as her hair. There was even a curl on the ends of them, hardly surprising when her hair was so naturally curly.

He reached down and pushed the coil of tubing from around her arm and gathered her into his arms. She stirred, her lashes fluttering, lifting. Her eyes were so blue, like the deepest sea.

“Mack,” she said his name softly, a drowsy, slumberous, oh-so-sexy note.

Her smile was slow, drawing his attention to her mouth. The one he spent far too much time fantasizing over. His stomach did a slow roll in time to her smile. “That’s right, baby. It’s Mack. I’m putting you to bed and sending everyone home.” He bent his head to brush a kiss over her forehead. “You’d better not be giving other men that particular smile.”