Dried blood covered her face. Aside from a killer headache and questionable vision because of the likely concussion, Dan hadn’t messed with Mary. He’d hauled her to an abandoned building outside San Antonio and tied her to a rickety chair.

As much as she wanted to be a bad ass commando and rip the chair up, kick the bastard’s ass, and run away, she knew this was a chance, a shot at finding out who was behind everything, pulling their strings.

“She’s not answering. She should be answering.” Dan clicked his phone off, then dialed again. Each time increased the man’s agitation, rage. He paced back and forth, back and forth.

The gun he’d shot Logan with waved in the air wildly with each pass. Mary flexed her arm muscles, testing the bindings holding her put. The chip she and Vi had inserted into themselves was still there, active. Vi could track her down.

Dylan would rescue her.

Hopefully.

She swallowed back the regret she’d stewed in the past couple hours. He’d cared too much to take a backseat, let others get the answers she needed. That they needed. She should’ve trusted him to take his own pulse if it got too intense.

Instead, she’d put the job first and cut him off at the knees. If she got out of this, she’d make it up to him. Even if he couldn’t forgive her, she’d apologize and give him what he needed to move on. He deserved better.

She did, too. She wanted the happy he’d given her. She hadn’t realized how much until she’d woken up in the car trunk and realized she wasn’t safe on Dylan’s ranch. Dan had entered and left via the main entrance under the guise of picking up his last check and clearing out his gear. What utter bullshit. There’d been no reason not to trust him. He’d killed the escort.

Logan.

“Who’s not answering?” she tried.

“If they hurt her, you’ll suffer twice as much. No, ten times as much.” He shook the gun in her face. “I could’ve snagged the other two he wanted easy, but he just had to have you, said you’d have all the data. They wouldn’t.”

“Whoever hired you, Dan, we can work this out. Call Marshall or Nolan. You’re right, you know. They see now you were right all along. Cord should’ve been kept in charge of operations. I was a threat, a weakness. I let them down today, just before you found me at the barn. I failed them.”

“Ha. She said you would,” he said proudly. “Baby sis is good, real good.”

Baby sis. The pieces slid together as Mary recounted the therapy session, Parsons talking about her big brother, the wounded Navy SEAL who’d come back a different man. Of course. Why hadn’t HERA established the connection?

“Doctor Parsons is your sister? I didn’t know.”

“I made sure no one did. Things happen to families. The things we do, they come back. That’s why I signed on when he approached, promised to keep her secure. All we had to do was this one job, then we’re set for life. Wherever we want to go.” The gun hand trembled. Mary’s pulse quickened. “I always promised I’d give her the world.”

“Sometimes promises have to be broken.”

“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” Dan laughed maniacally. “Just too smart for your own good. That’s what he said. Too many brains get you dead.”

Dread fired through her bloodstream as footsteps sounded behind Dan. Shadows obscured his face a moment, but two steps later, her entire world collapsed. Past collided with disbelief as she stared at a ghost.

“Peter.”

“He’s right, you know. You were too smart for your own good,” the man commented as he walked up until he loomed above her.

Legs spread slightly, he entered her personal space and settled a hand beneath her chin. “It didn’t have to come to this, Mary. You should’ve walked away, let it go.”

“I don’t understand. Why? How?”

“I knew you’d put the pieces together soon enough. Smoke and mirrors covered my tracks longer than I expected. You and Vi have kept me busy lately. That program of yours was a big problem, started undercutting years of work. Decades.”

Denial was poised on her tongue, but her heart burned as the truth seared itself there, branding its permanence on her soul. Peter Rugers was the mastermind. “This whole time. You’ve pulled Driggs’s strings the entire time.”

“Martin does what he’s told, a good lapdog to have around.” Peter flashed the arrogant grin she hated. “Great with money. He started having trouble a couple years ago, though. That’s when I first realized you and Vi had been busy little bodies, siphoning money I’d pilfered. You got me in a lot of trouble.”

“All this for money? That’s beneath you, Peter.”

“Years of careful planning and worming my way into organizations around the world were destroyed by you in one afternoon.” Anger mottled his tone, like oil and gasoline burned with a match. “When you came to my office holding evidence of my life’s work, the deals and the sacrifices I’d made, I knew what had to be done.”

“How long? How long were you dirty, Peter? All the things we accomplished. Why?”

“You always had to be the white knight, riding in to save the day. That’s what I admired about you the most, the raw tenacity. The way you sank your teeth into something and never let loose, no matter what someone did.” His voice lowered as he stroked her hair. “I told Driggs you wouldn’t break. I watched. Listened. You did good.”

Revulsion shuddered through her, a wave of nausea rolling in her gut. He’d been there. He’d watched. There were no compartments strong enough to withstand the shockwave the admission created in her.

“Why? You were like a brother to me,” she whispered.

“Sweet little Addy is a lot like you, always seeking approval. Coming back for more and more when she gets knocked down.” Peter chuckled. “I honed her into a beautiful killing machine, capable of doing whatever I commanded. And she did, you know. I never even had to give the details. She knew what I expected.”

Mary recalled the lists, long and endless. Men and women Addy seduced for the sake of a mission. Peter had done that. Crafted a weapon from the tattered soul of his little sister. He was a monster, one far worse than the ones she’d spent her entire life battling.

She stared up at the man she’d once respected. “I’m going to enjoy watching Dylan and Marshall tear you apart.”

“You think The Arsenal can stop me?” He laughed. “Marshall isn’t in the major leagues, never will be. The only way you win the game these days is if you check your soul at the door. He wears his like armor, never wandering much past the line drawn by humanity. He’ll never touch me. I never had a soul.”

“I don’t believe that. I saw the good you’ve done, the lives you saved.”

“That’s part of the game. The people who hire me, the real clients, they need what I offer. A clean cover, an in to the governments and alphabet soup. I grease the right palms and everyone’s happy. And I get a very nice pay day.”

“Then I found your nest eggs,” Mary surmised. “I bet that pissed you off.”

“Was it just you?” Peter leaned in. “I told Driggs to take Vi, too, but he said you’d be easier to break. I knew he was wrong. I let him have his fun, play with you a bit.”

Mary ignored the cloying fear in her and forced the conversation forward. “Then you steered me to The Arsenal. Why? Why them?”

“I wasn’t stupid. I knew you and Vi were looking around, scoping options. Word gets around when we’re in such small circles. I knew if you two landed somewhere, it’d have to be a clean operation, one so above board it squeaked.”

“So when I brought the evidence to you, thinking it was Driggs, you staged your death. Why?”

“I needed a huge payday to appease the people your moves pissed off. Your head on a platter didn’t help anything. You were a cash cow breathing. Both of you were.” He sneered. “The Quillery Edge.”

“And stealing HERA wouldn’t be enough. You always want more,” she spat.

“You and Vi held your assets for that fucking computer and the programs it ran close. Never could crack either of you, find out who created the power source, the chemical weapons. You had no idea what gold mines you two stupid geeks were sitting on. You didn’t even care. Sitting in your cave, playing cops and robbers.”

“We caught you, took every penny, didn’t we?”

The slap stung her face, but she welcomed the pain, the burn as it spread through her skin and settled into a dull throb. The sensation reminded her Peter wasn’t the man she’d thought him to be. He was a monster, plain and simple.

He rolled up his sleeves and sighed as he pulled a cart over. “I need those access codes, the data you gathered. I need it all, Mary. Give them to me, and I’ll make this quick. We both know what has to happen.”

“Yeah, Peter, we do.” Mary gritted her teeth and willed her emotions away.

For once, summoning The Edge, the emotionless bitch she’d honed through the years, was a welcomed chore. She smiled, confident the chip in her was one move he hadn’t expected. He’d underestimated her. That was his first mistake. All she had to do was hold on until Vi tracked her and Dylan and his badass commandos rescued her.

THE VEHICLE FLEW DOWN the highway, but Dylan didn’t give a damn how fast Marshall drove. It wasn’t fast enough. He needed to be where the red dot on the navigation panel indicated. Now.

They had Mary’s location. While a couple men handled loading Logan into a chopper, Dylan’s brothers had assembled teams with enough firepower to take over a small country. Vi did her wizardy computer mojo and hooked up a live video and audio feed that gave everyone in the responding vehicles full access to Gage’s interrogation of Martin Driggs.

He stared at the dot, then back at the iPad he held.

“You’re lying!” Gage shouted.

Blood oozed from untended wounds along Drigg’s face and torso. Abrasions and cigarette burns in a familiar pattern, one burned into Dylan’s brain. He wouldn’t have had the ruthless efficiency to dispense the justice Gage did with Driggs.

Mary’d been right. Gage knew exactly how to break the man’s spirit. Every cut, every wound inflicted, was a reminder of what he’d done to Mary. He’d endure the same pain she did for the limited life he had left.

Fallon Graves gave the man suggestions before they’d torn off after Mary.

I’ve had her six longer than she’s been your woman. No way in hell I’m staying here and handling garbage, not when there’s bigger trash to take out.

Yeah. Mary was right. Fallon Graves was a good soldier.

Though the feed was live, willed the answers to come faster. They had less than twenty miles until their destination and no fucking clue what they were headed into, not that it’d matter. He’d start a World War to save Mary.“You think I’m smart enough to pull this off? I’m a money man. This was all Peter.”

“You’re saying he’s still alive. Why fake his own death? What’s in it for him? He’d lose Hive, everything he’s achieved.” Gage asked.

“You don’t get it.” Martin spat blood on the floor beside him and groaned. “I swear. He planned everything, including Mary’s capture. He said she’d never break, but he let me try anyway.”

“What did he want from her?”

“The money! She and that other bitch cleared every dime out. It wasn’t all his. We’ve gotten a large cut from cleaning money for some very, very bad people. The rest we earned making connections with dignitaries, governments.”

“He was dirty,” Gage said.

“Fuck, no way,” Marshall growled as he slammed his hand on the steering wheel.

“You know what they called him before he retired?” Driggs asked.

“The Chameleon,” Vi whispered into the mic connected to the vehicle’s speakers. “Why didn’t we see it?”

Addy, who sat in the backseat shifted and cursed.

“Ads,” Vi whispered.

“Don’t,” the female operative warned. “Focus on the interrogation. That’s what matters.”

Fuck. Dylan couldn’t imagine the shock rolling through her. If what Driggs said was true, her brother wasn’t the man any of them believed.

What if it’d been Dallas? Cord?

No. No way any of his brothers would ever turn. Then again, she probably thought the same thing. She’d learned everything from him. He’d gotten a little insight into the real dynamic between the two earlier, the one he suspected she rarely shared with anyone.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Would you be?”

“We’ll find her.”

“Yeah, we will. I wish I could say he wouldn’t hurt her, but I never...” She shifted forward until their gazed locked. “What Driggs said jives with the timelines. The accident happened right after Mary went to him with the evidence. We were all so convinced it was Driggs. I never pulled the blinders off and considered my brother.”

“You didn’t know. No one did.” Dylan glanced over at Marshall. “We thought the world of your brother. Everyone did.”

“We assume the worst and assess the situation before going in. If this is Peter, he’ll be ready. He’s one of the best there is,” Marshall said over the line.

The occupants of the other vehicles following them sounded off. They had what they needed. Now they went to war. 

“Any word on Logan?” Graves asked from the back seat.

“Chopper just landed in Nomad. He’s headed for surgery. That’s all we’ll know for a while,” Vi answered.

They’d found Logan outside the barn and helicoptered him to a slightly larger town twenty miles up the road. The small hospital there had wanted to airlift him to San Antonio, but there hadn’t been time.

Dylan looked over at Marshall, who’d interrogated the bitch psychologist while the vehicles were loaded. “She talk?”

“Didn’t know enough to merit a long discussion. Dan Hennessey is her half-brother.

“So he took Mary. Left via the front door because the men on rotation trusted him.” Dylan asked. “We need to fix these security holes. This shit can’t happen again.”

“It won’t,” Marshall said. “I owe your woman an apology.”

“We’ll get her back and make things right.” There was no other option, not for Dylan.

DYLAN STUDIED ADDY from across the unpaved road. They’d descended on the area twenty minutes ago, but Marshall held them back as Cord (with Vi’s help remotely) did the geek drone-scanning thing. His brother was in a truck a few yards away, so into their data feeds they probably didn’t hear the thirty-six people waiting impatiently to storm the house a mile down the way.

Marshall shouldn’t let Addy participate in the op. She was an unknown. Even Graves admitted as much. There was no way she was in on whatever her brother was doing, but how she reacted could jeopardize Mary’s rescue.

Penetration of the house wouldn’t be simple. At least fifty operatives armed to the gills rotated in and out in sporadic sweeps. Drones flitted high overhead, surveilling the interior and gathering data, but Dylan suspected the results wouldn’t be good.

Everyone took a position to surround the area as they identified a weakness no one expected to find. Peter Rugers wasn’t an idiot.

Screams echoed from the loudspeakers. The shrill cries sliced through Dylan, sharp and vicious. Mary. He rose from his position, but Marshall dragged him back down.

“It’s not her. It’s not live at least. It’s a recording,” Vi said through the headset. “Cord’s found an in for the drones. We’re sending them in now.”

Dylan donned headgear without comment and willed the little cameras to move into position. They needed eyes on Mary. Peter. Any clue what her condition was would ease the agitation boiling in him. Or prepare him for the worst-case scenario.

No. Mary was tough. The Edge.

She wouldn’t break. Even if she did, he’d put her back together. They’d get through anything.

Almost there, sweetheart.

A drone rolled across the interior floor. The view jumped and jiggled with its odd movements as it halted. Legs. Ropes wrapped around soft skin. Ankles.

Mary’s ankles.

Dylan absorbed every morsel of data the camera offered and gripped his weapon. His protective side wanted to storm the house and shoot everyone who dared stand in his way.

The bastard had Mary two hours. Too long. Way too long. Seconds ticked by as the drone slid up. Water dripped from her tattered clothing. Blood dribbled from a busted lip. Both eyes were swollen, barely open.

But they were focused, glinting with rage and strength as they settled on the drone. Dylan swore he saw the relief, the tension fleeing her body. She knew they were here, ready to swoop in.

Her good hand fisted, then fingers started moving.

“What’s she signaling, Quillery?” Dylan asked.

“Tripwires inside. Ordnance under chair.” Vi’s voice rose with the last words. “The bastard has her wired.”

“What else?”

“Second team hitting ranch. Secure Bree and Rhea.” Vi repeated the words a second time.

Marshall pushed a couple buttons on his cell. “We have eyes on Edge. She’s signaling a second team is infiltrating the ranch. Yeah, they’re coming for Bree and Rhea.”

Dallas, Nolan, and Sanderson had remained at the ranch with half the operatives cleared and vetted by Vi via Mary’s background checks. Dylan had been against leaving so many at the compound, but it seemed Jesse’s suggestion was spot on.

“All I need is a location. Where did you secure the data? Give me the access codes and the data, and I’ll stop. It’ll all be over.” He wheeled a second cart near her, attached car jumper cables to the metal chair.

“Son of a bitch,” Graves muttered through the line. “Are we done holding our dicks and watching this bastard?”

“Wait. She’s moving hands again. Shit, he’s in the way.” The drone maneuvered a bit. Mary’s gaze tracked.

“Go to hell, Peter. I’m never telling you anything,” she forced through busted lips.

“Two minutes. We’re jamming the detonation device’s signal. Cord, you handle that. I’ll keep monitoring her. She’s pretty mouthy for a hostage.” Vi sighed heavily. “Always so bossy.”

Dylan breathed a bit easier hearing the banter back and forth between Vi and Cord as they prepared for entry. “How’s he not seeing the drone inside?”

“Oh, it’s the new model we just finished. An interior wooden colored one. It’s a bit flatter, harder to detect when it’s immobile, which is why I’m working hard to keep it near the ground. Things flying around people’s faces tend to get seen.”

“Can it knock him out? If he’s the only one in there, why not do that?” Marshall asked.

“Because we see four heat signatures behind her and three behind him, so seven extra unfriendlies. This model can only handle four, sorry.”

“Don’t chance it. We knock him out, one of the others could get trigger happy,” Dylan said.

“Signal is jammed,” Cord offered.

“Mary’s suggesting two snipers on the roof. Holes on the south and east areas of the room. I’m flying another drone up to scope out angles.” Vi’s voice was a barely audible whisper.

Dylan summoned his patience as he worked his way to a better position to climb the roof. Marshall could determine who the other sniper would be, but he was number one.

“Get up there with him, Chet,” Marshall ordered. “We go on Dylan’s mark.”

Graves appeared to his left and started clearing the area as Rugers’s men turned the corner on their sweeps. Three snapped necks later, Dylan was perched on the roof and lying on his belly.

The interior of the building was small, trashed, and a nightmare for entry. Tripwires covered the area, so many the slightest movement near the windows and doors would detonate something, assuming it wasn’t run via a signal Cord jammed.

Dylan couldn’t take the chance.

“Wired tight,” he commented.

“Recommend Graves first wave,” Vi added.

“Go when ready. We have you covered from above.”

“Roger. Clearing entry along western wall.”

“Vi, I want another three drones in there. We’ll drop flash bang to cover entry. Let’s neutralize whoever we can with the drones on first wave.” Dylan pulled a couple flash bangs out and waited for the drones to appear near him. “On three.”

Chet popped and dropped as he did. Shouts and alarms rose from inside the building. The drones swooped down. Gunfire filled the area, but Dylan’s focus remained on the interior of the building as he downed whoever he could reach from his limited view.

Marshall led the other operatives into a battle with the surrounding people under Peter’s command. Dylan tied a line to the side of the roof and descended through a hole he breeched with his foot.

He landed in a squat and scanned the area. Graves knelt near the chair. Peter’s gun was trained on the man, who’d put his hands behind his back.

“You know this isn’t going to end well,” Graves said. “Surrender now, and maybe you’ll leave here breathing.”

“You’re the one who won’t be breathing much longer, not after I get what I want.”

“You’ll never get that, Peter. Not from her. Not from us.” Dylan rose and entered the fray, weapon focused on him. He stepped over tripwires and swept the area, noting most of the men were down. Drones flitted around Peter and the chair, angry bees looking for a target.

He guessed they hadn’t attacked Peter because he had a second weapon pointed to Mary’s temple, finger on the trigger. He lifted his weapon up in a mock surrender and settled it at his feet.

“Let her go, and you can walk away. No harm, no foul. Leave her and the others in peace, and you were never here.”

“It’s not that simple. You stupid idiots, you and your precious brothers are part of my end game.”

“No,” Mary shouted.

Peter struck her with the butt of the gun. “I told you to shut the hell up.”

Rage distorted Dylan’s vision a moment. He edged forward, stance ready. “Name your price, Rugers.”

“This isn’t about the money, not anymore. Once I get what I need from her, I’ll be set. This is about security. The people I work for are very irritated The Arsenal is gaining ground so quickly. They fear you’ll be a thorn in their side too soon.”

“You drew us all here to kill us? Not the smartest plan.”

“With you all here, there’s no one to defend your precious ranch, the compound. Weaponry ripe for the taking. A tragic fire, a massive explosion. Everything and everyone killed. Quite unfortunate, really.” He smiled.

“You made a couple grave mistakes with the plan, Rugers,” Graves commented.

“Oh really? What was that?”

“One, it doesn’t take everyone on The Arsenal payroll to take your stupid ass out. They’ve doubled their size since they gained the Quillery Edge,” Graves said.

“Which leads to fuck up number two, the really big one.” Dylan allowed a cold, calculated smile as Peter stared at him. The weapon moved from Graves to him. “You didn’t factor in Mary and Vi, their system. Even if we’d been dumb enough to leave our compound unmanned, HERA is on the job. Since my Edge designed the program, I know it’ll kick whosever asses you send in.”

A drone buzzed rapidly toward the hand holding a gun on Mary. Peter yelped as electricity arced between the machine and him. Dylan fell to his knees, grabbed the weapon, and fired.

Gunfire echoed in the area as a second, then a third blast filled the room. No. No. No.

He stumbled forward, unsure whose blood coated the area. “Mary!”

“Don’t. Stop!” Graves pushed on his chest. “I need to secure the bomb. She’s okay. Breathe through it, man. Look. She’s okay.”

She’s okay.

The words struck center mass and neutralized the fear in him. He tracked the blood pouring from two head wounds on Peter’s lifeless body. Blood spatter covered the area, including Mary.

Her gaze remained on him. 

“I’m okay. You’re here. I’m okay because you’re here.” Mary looked down at Graves. “Fallon will have me out of this in no time.”