Targeted

having an endless supply of illegals to experiment on. He rolled his shoulders and shoved those thoughts out of his head. “What am I meeting him about?” And how the hell will I handle seeing Sophie? he thought.

“You supposedly want to go over flight schedules and the books and you want to talk about the possibility of investing in his company.”

Jack was silent for a long beat. Then he asked the only question that mattered. The question that would burn him alive from the inside out until he actually voiced it. The question that made him feel as if he’d swallowed glass shards as he asked, “Will I be working with Sophie?”

Wesley’s jaw clenched. “She is Weller’s assistant.”

“So yes.”

Those knowing green eyes narrowed. “Is that going to be a problem?”

Yes. “No.”

“She won’t recognize you. What’re you worried about?” Wesley folded his hands on top of the desk.

Jack wasn’t worried about her. He was worried he couldn’t stay objective around her. Sophie thought he was dead. And thanks to expensive facial reconstruction—all part of the deal in killing off his former identity when he’d joined Wesley’s team with the NSA—she’d never know his true identity. Still, the thought of being in the same zip code as her sent flashes of heat racing down his spine. With a petite, curvy body made for string bikinis and wet T-shirt contests, Sophie was the kind of woman to make a man do a double take. He’d spent too many hours dreaming about running his hands through that thick dark hair again as she rode him. When they were seventeen, she’d been his ultimate fantasy and once they’d finally crossed that line from friends to lovers, there had been no keeping their hands off each other. They’d had sex three or four times a day whenever they’d been able to sneak away and get a little privacy. And it had never been enough with Sophie. She’d consumed him then. Now his boss wanted him to voluntarily work with her. “Why not send another agent?”

“I don’t want anyone else. In fact, no one else here knows you’re going in as Keane’s partner except me.”

Jack frowned. It wasn’t the first time he’d gone undercover with only Wesley as his sole contact, but if his boss had people already working on the connection between Vargas and SBMS, it would be protocol for the direct team to know he was going in undercover. “Why?”

“I don’t want to risk a leak. If I’m the only one who knows you’re not who you say you are, there’s no chance of that.”

There was more to it than that, but Jack didn’t question him. He had that blank expression Jack recognized all too well that meant he wouldn’t be getting any more, not even under torture.

Wesley continued. “You know more about Sophie than most people. I want you to use that knowledge to get close to her. I don’t think I need to remind you that this is a matter of national security.”

“I haven’t seen her since I was eighteen.” And not a day went by that he didn’t think of the ways he’d failed her. What the hell was Wesley thinking?

“It’s time for you to face your past, Jack.” His boss suddenly straightened and took on that professorial/fatherly look Jack was accustomed to.

“Is that what this is about? Me, facing my past?” he ground out. Fuck that. If he wanted to keep his memories buried, he damn well would.

Wesley shrugged noncommittally. “You will complete this mission.”

As Jack stood, he clenched his jaw so he wouldn’t say something he’d regret. Part of him wanted to tell Wesley to take his order and shove it, but another part—his most primal side—hummed with anticipation at the thought of seeing Sophie. She’d always brought out his protective side. Probably because she’d been his entire fucking world at one time and looking out for her had been his number-one priority.

He’d noticed Sophie long before she’d been aware of his existence, but once he was placed in the same foster house as her, they’d quickly become best friends. Probably because he hadn’t given her a choice in being his friend. He’d just pushed right past her shy exterior until she came to him about anything and everything. Then one day she’d kissed him. He shoved that thought right out of his mind.

“There’s a car waiting to take you to the flight strip. Once you land in Miami, there will be another car waiting for you. There’s a full wardrobe, and anything else you’ll need at the condo we’ve arranged.”

“What about my laptop?”

“It’s in the car.”

When he was halfway to the door, his boss stopped him again. “You need to face your demons, Jack. Seeing Sophie is the only way you’ll ever exorcise them. Maybe you can settle down and start a family once you do. I want to see you happy, son.”

Son. If only he’d had a father like Wesley growing up. But if he had, he wouldn’t have ended up where he was today. And he’d probably never have met Sophie. That alone made his shitty childhood worth every punch and bruise he’d endured. Jack swallowed hard, but didn’t turn around before exiting. His chest loosened a little when he was out from under Wesley’s scrutiny. The older man might be in his early fifties, but with his skill set, Jack had no doubt his boss could take out any one of the men within their covert organization. That’s why he was the deputy director of the NSA and the unidentified head of the covert group Jack worked for.

Officially, Black Death 9 didn’t exist. Unofficially, the name was whispered in back rooms and among other similar black ops outfits within the government. Their faction was just another classified group of men and women working to keep their country safe. At times like this Jack wished the NSA didn’t have a thick file detailing every minute detail of his past. If they didn’t, another agent would be heading for Miami right now and he’d be on his way to a four-star hotel or on another mission.

Jack mentally shook himself as he placed his hand on the elevator scanner. Why was Wesley trying to get under his skin? Now, of all times? The man was too damn intuitive for his own good. He’d been after him for years to see Sophie in person, “to find closure” as he put it, but Jack couldn’t bring himself to do it. He had no problem facing down the barrel of a loaded gun, but seeing the woman with the big brown eyes and the soft curves he so often dreamed about—no, thank you.

As the elevator opened into the aboveground parking garage, he shoved those thoughts away. He’d be seeing Sophie in two days. Didn’t matter what he wanted.

•   •   •

Sophie Moreno took a deep, steadying breath and eased open the side door to one of Keane Flight’s hangars. She had a key, so it wasn’t as though she was technically breaking in. She was just coming by on a Sunday night when no one was here. And the place was empty. And she just happened to be wearing a black cap to hide her hair.

Oh yeah, she was completely acting like a normal, law-abiding citizen. Cringing at her stupid rationalization, she pushed any fears of getting caught she had to the side. What she was doing wasn’t about her.

She loved her job at South Beach Medical Supply, but lately her boss had been acting weird and the flight logs from Keane Flight for SBMS’s recent deliveries didn’t make sense. They hadn’t for the past few months.

And no one—meaning her boss, Ronald Weller—would answer her questions when she brought up anything about Keane Flight.

Considering Ronald hadn’t asked her over to dinner in the past few months either as he normally did, she had a feeling he and his wife must be having problems. They’d treated her like a daughter for almost as long as she’d been with SBMS, so if he was too distracted to look into things because of personal issues, she was going to take care of this herself. SBMS provided much-needed medical supplies to third-world countries, and she wasn’t going to let anything jeopardize that. People needed them. And if she could help out Ronald, she wanted to.

She didn’t even know what she was looking for, but she’d decided to trust her gut and come here. Wearing all black, she felt a little stupid, like a cat burglar or something, but she wanted to be careful. Hell, she’d even parked outside the hangar and sneaked in through an opening in the giant fence surrounding the private airport. The security here should have been tighter—something she would address later. After she’d done her little B&E. God, she was so going to get in trouble if she was caught. She could tell herself that she wasn’t “technically” doing anything wrong, but her palms were sweaty as she stole down the short hallway to where it opened up into a large hangar.