Page 39 of Heston
The helo’s skids had barely touched down on the tarmac at TEAM HQ when Renner Graves jerked the side door open and declared, “Welcome home, boys.” He flashed London a big smile that Heston wanted to knock off his ugly face. “You must be London Wilde. Glad to finally meet you, ma’am. Been hearing nothing but good things about you. Name’s Renner Graves. Need a hand down from there?”
“Sure don’t, but thanks, Agent Graves,” she replied, already free of her harness and on her feet. “I assume you have a secure facility for our visitors?”
She made Bates and Malloy sound like honest citizens.
“Yes, ma’am. But these men aren’t visitors, they’re prisoners. FBI Director Tucker Chase is on his way. He’ll be taking them to the FBI’s facility in the District for questioning.” Renner looked at Heston. “Sorry, but this case falls under the Bureau’s jurisdiction. Alex called Chase direct. Probably not what you want to hear, Heston, but—”
“That’s bullshit!” Asher roared. “We nailed Bates and Malloy. They’re ours!”
Heston put a hand on Asher’s hefty biceps to keep him from exploding out the door and taking Renner down. “Let Chase have this case, Ash. The FBI should handle Malloy and Bates. It falls within their jurisdiction, and Alex trusts Director Chase.”
Alex and Tucker were tight. Tucker might’ve been an annoying Navy SEAL like Tom Landry back in the day, but Tucker Chase commandeered the only psychic unit in the Bureau. Heston had heard that Chase had some talent in that area. Bates and Malloy might live longer this way. Might yield more factual, hard evidence instead of the promised bloodletting if Alex ever got his hands on them.
“How’s Isaiah?” Heston asked as he dropped off the helo with a solid grip on the chain between Bates’ cuffs, while Ash assisted the zoned-out, world’s greatest sniper to the tarmac.
Renner grinned. “Now how’d you know Isaiah was here?”
“Because he’s standing behind you.” Heston reached around Renner to shake Isaiah’s hand. “Hey, Isaiah.”
Renner peered over his shoulder. “Damn, you’re sneaky, Zaroyin.”
“Me?” Isaiah teased. His dark blue eyes sparkled as if this were an easy hand-off, but Heston caught sight of the hefty nine-millimeter, fifth-generation Glock pistol loose in the holster cup on Isaiah’s hip. The son of Abraham Zaroyin, the mad scientist behind the catastrophic plan to implant mind-control chips in active duty military members, Isaiah was one of very few Level Ten psychics in the world.
He and Eden Winchester, another Level Ten, were the first agents to serve the federal government in that capacity. Their record for intercepting murderers, spies, and other miscreants was phenomenal, bar none. There were a few other Level Tens scattered across the world, from Russia and China to England, Algeria, Iraq, and Israel. Even on a peak overlooking the winter capital of the Dali Lama in Himachal Pradesh, India. But to date, only a handful worked for the Bureau.
“Tuck wants to meet your girlfriend, Heston. Hope you don’t mind waiting,” Isaiah said.
My girlfriend?Heston knew Isaiah never said anything in jest. If he said girlfriend, he was seeing something Heston hadn’t yet admitted. Was it possible? Did he stand a chance of getting back into London’s good graces? Was he worth her? Hell, Isaiah was probably inside Heston’s mind right now, listening while he argued with himself. He shot Zaroyin a grin and told him, “Stop it, smartass.”
Isaiah grinned. “Not for me to stop anything.” While he reached out and took a firm hold of Malloy’s cuffs, he stuck his chin at London. “She’s the one in control. Surprised you aren’t.”
He had Heston there. “Working on it,” was all the intel Isaiah was getting on that subject.
Renner grunted when a bright red Dodge Challenger careened over the tarmac, its wheels squealing. “Tuck’s here. I gotta go.”
“Good seeing you again, Renner,” Heston replied evenly.
Tucker Chase, forever a badass former SEAL and the only FBI Director without a filter, would never change. Proof positive was him slamming on the brakes and sliding that monster car sideways on the tarmac and into a perfect stop alongside the helo. Six feet of tough-guy muscle poured out of the driver’s side, while an elegant blonde with mile-long legs stepped daintily from the passenger seat.
“Heston,” she called out. Smoothing one hand over the front of her skirt, she extended the other to him as she joined the group.
He pulled her in for a quick hug instead of just a handshake. “Hey, Eden. Didn’t expect you. Where’s Ky?”
She fluttered her fingers as if she was dusting the air. “Oh, you know. Off saving the world with Tate and Keller. Texas, again.”
London was suddenly at Heston’s side, nudging his elbow out of her way as she burrowed in close. She stuck a hand at Eden. “Hi there, ma’am, I’m—”
“London Wilde!” Eden exclaimed, releasing Heston and reaching for London. “Former FBI Agent in training, former Forest Service law enforcement officer.” She grabbed both of London’s wrists. “Also currently investigating—without federal oversight, I might add—the attempted murders of two of my very best friends, Alex and Kelsey Stewart. I am so glad to make your acquaintance. Did I miss anything? Oh, yes, you graduated with honors from Texas A&M University. Weren’t you valedictorian that year? My God, you’re too pretty to work for the Bureau. Isn’t she, Heston?”
“Well, umm, yeah,” London admitted sheepishly as Eden released her wrists and gave her a quick girly hug. “I mean, about the other stuff. Not about being pretty or anything like—”
“She’s too pretty for government work,” Heston agreed, still wondering if Isaiah was right about her being in control. “London’s my best friend. Probably the smartest agent the FBI ever let slip away, too.”
He smiled down at the timid woman inside the circle of his arms, that London had turned into. Her fingers were splayed possessively on his chest and her cheeks were pleasantly pink. But she’d turned shy and quiet. His breath hitched at this new perspective of the woman he still loved. So this was what she looked like embarrassed. So damned beautiful, it was hard to breathe. Her jealousy was a joy to behold, and her being possessive of him was downright thrilling. But her being bashful in front of another strong woman was just plain adorable.
Guess Heston wasn’t the only one staking out territory tonight. Isaiah was right. She was Heston’s woman.
Tucker stalked up to where everyone but Decker had gathered. Deck was still inside his helo, probably checking off an end-of-flight safety list.
