Page 2 of Enticing Kane

“Sure,” Kane said, finally nodding.

The upgrade was smooth, and before long, Kane was seated next to Fitz in the spacious, quiet cabin at the front of the plane. The other passengers barely registered them, too absorbed in their own world of newspapers and pre-flight drinks.

“Do me a favor,” Fitz rumbled at the flight attendant. “Find me the best single malt you have on the plane and keep them coming.”

“Of course, Mr. Fitzwallace. Mrs. Fitzwallace called to let us know you would be joining us and had a bottle of your favorite delivered to the plane. I’ll see that it’s opened and served to you straight away.”

Kane watched the flight attendant’s shapely backside head back down the aisle. “JJ spoils you.”

Fitz chuckled. “Aye, lad, that she does, but having the scotch delivered is more about letting the flight attendants know I’m a married man than it is to seeing about my creature comforts. But as long as she makes sure I’m getting good scotch, I don’t much care what her motivations are. But I didn’t fly all this way—and on a commercial jet, mind you—to talk about my wife. I came here to find you.”

The hairs on the back of Kane’s neck stood up. “Why might that be?”

“Easy, lad. Nothing nefarious. I’ve been keeping tabs on you,” Fitz said. His tone was casual, but there was an underlying edge to it. “I know you’ve just finished your last tour. It’s quite a career you’ve had.”

“Something like that,” Kane replied noncommittally. He wasn’t in the mood to reminisce, especially not about the countless lives he had taken.

Fitz leaned back in his seat, studying Kane with a calculating gaze. “What’s next for you?”

Kane shrugged. “Haven’t thought about it much. Go home, maybe. Finish my degree. Figure things out.”

“And then what? Live out the rest of your days in quiet solitude?” Fitz’s voice was probing, like he was peeling back the layers of Kane’s soul and searching for something.

“Maybe,” Kane said, though he knew it was a lie. He couldn’t picture himself living a normal life, blending into the background. It wasn’t who he was, but the only life he’d known was the military, and he was putting that life behind him.

Fitz seemed to sense this. He nodded thoughtfully, then leaned in slightly. “I have an offer for you.”

Kane didn’t respond, but his eyes flicked to Fitz’s, signaling his interest.

“I’m going to assume you know something about Cerberus,” Fitz continued.

“Something,” said Kane noncommittally. “One doesn’t play at Baker Street and not know at least something about Cerberus. It’s not like any of you are trying to make a big secret of it.”

Fitz nodded and smiled wryly. “That’s true. The lads are able to let their hair down, so to speak. No one talks about anything openly or shares confidential information, but they don’t have to hide who they are or what they’re about. We handle situations that governments can’t—or won’t—deal with. Off the books, under the radar. It’s the kind of work you’re used to, but with a bit more… autonomy.”

Kane narrowed his eyes. “Why me?”

“Because you’re the best,” Fitz said simply. “And because I know you’re not ready to walk away. Not yet.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Oh, but I do.”

Kane couldn’t really argue with that. He had been a Marine for so long that he was having trouble imagining a life without some kind of mission, some kind of purpose. But he also knew that Fitz wasn’t just offering him a job. This was a recruitment, and with it would come obligations, commitments that Kane wasn’t sure he wanted to make.

“What’s the catch?” Kane asked.

“No catch,” Fitz said with a shrug. “Just a job that needs doing. Think of it as a way to keep your skills sharp while figuring out what you really want. A way for you to test the waters and for me to see if you’re as good a fit as I believe you to be. You do know, I’m rarely wrong about these things.”

Kane considered it for a moment. Fitz was right—he wasn’t sure he was really ready to walk away completely. And the idea of working for Cerberus intrigued him. It wasn’t the same as the Marines, but it was close enough.

“All right,” Kane said finally. “I’m in.”

Fitz’s smile widened, a rare expression of genuine pleasure. “Good. We’ll get you set up as soon as we land.”

The rest of the flight passed in relative silence, with Fitz offering a few details about Cerberus and its operations. But Kane’s mind was already racing ahead, thinking about what the future might hold. This wasn’t what he had expected when he left the Marine Corps, but it felt right. It felt like the natural next step.

When they landed in Chicago, Fitz and Kane were whisked away in a private car to Cerberus’ American headquarters--Club Southside. The building was unassuming from the outside—just another old brick warehouse in a neighborhood full of them. But inside, it was a different story.

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