The whole team had gathered in the office this morning. Angus remained in the case room, obsessing over his obsession. At least he’d made it home to shower before showing up in yet another pair of ripped jeans and a dark tee that stretched across his wide chest. He’d given her one of those looks earlier that had made her want to both kiss him and punch him. How did he affect her like that?
Brigid Banaghan worked away in her computer room, no doubt running searches for Angus that would lead nowhere, while their new member, ex-journalist Dana Mulberry, conducted research on one of the free computers. Well, maybe not ex-journalist. There was no doubt Dana would take a story and freelance it, if an interesting one came up and was okayed by Angus.
In the middle of the office, testosterone reigned supreme. Malcolm West, Raider Tanaka, and Clarence Wolfe sat at their desks in the center hub, going through busy-work case files sent by the HDD brass. They were all dressed in jeans and dark, long-sleeved shirts, their normal uniform for the office.
Agent Millie Frost, their new Q, had disappeared into the storage room turned vault with her mysterious equipment. The blue streaks in her blond hair had faded to a light aqua and her face had finally lost its pinched look. Nari had given Millie time to get settled in and now she needed to set up a schedule with her for weekly counseling appointments, as she had with the rest of the team.
Except Angus Force. He wouldn’t set foot in her office—a fact she appreciated. While she wanted to help him, the attraction between them wouldn’t dissipate.
The elevator dinged, high and tinny. Roscoe stepped away and turned his head toward the door, while Nari straightened in her chair. “It’s probably Jethro,” she whispered. The British professor consulted with Angus; he’d just finished rehab on his leg after injuring it during an Op.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Wolfe snapped loudly.
Nari sighed. All right. It wasn’t Jethro.
Roscoe bounded out of the office and she stood to follow him, anxiety rippling through her with just enough of a bite to hasten her steps. She stopped short in her office doorway. Oh, crap.
HDD Special Agents Fields and Rutherford stood in the vestibule in front of the rickety elevator, while techs holding boxes sidled in behind them, quickly scouting the room. The techs were dressed in dust-resistant gray jumpsuits, and one guy held a stack of more folded boxes.
“What’s going on?” Nari asked.
Fields shrugged, chewing loudly on what sounded like hard candy. “We have orders.”
Rutherford, for the first time, didn’t smile at their misfortune. “I’m sorry to inform you that the Deep Ops team is hereby disbanded. Please hand over your badges and weapons. We’ll box up the records, so no need to worry about that.”
Angus stepped out of the case room, his expression frighteningly calm. “No.”
Wolfe kicked back in his chair and plunked his overlarge boots on the desk in a relaxed pose that was anything but relaxed. Malcolm just stared at Rutherford, while Raider sighed, shaking his head.
Fresh rain dotted Rutherford’s blond hair and his Armani suit. “You don’t follow the rules, Force. Never have, and you never will. That gets people killed. I’m sorry about this.”
The guy actually did sound sorry. Nari focused on him. Man, she’d like to get into his head. “I don’t understand. What’s happening?”
Everyone turned in one fashion or another to look at Angus.
His jaw hardened.
Fields sighed. “The deal was for one year for Force to find evidence that Henry Wayne Lassiter was alive, and that year was up last week. Your team is disbanded.”
Raider leaned forward. “Are you nuts?”
“The team is a liability,” Rutherford countered. “HDD is celebrating right now.”
This was crazy. Why hadn’t Force said anything? Hurt slithered through her, but she pushed emotion aside to deal with the situation. “On the contrary,” Nari said, “we’ve saved a lot of lives with our cases. Shutting this team down is a bad idea.”
Brigid emerged from the computer room, her red hair piled high on her head and irritation in her green eyes. Dana stepped up behind her, at least five inches taller than the Irish computer hacker. Dana’s blond hair was in a ponytail and the flannel shirt she wore matched her pretty blue eyes.
Brigid’s pale face flushed. “We’re in the middle of several cases right now that were assigned by you. Where are we going to finish them?”
Agent Fields’s hangdog brown eyes softened. “Nowhere, Agent Banaghan. The team is disbanded. You and Raider have new assignments.”
The air went out of the room.
Rutherford turned toward Nari. “Same with you, Dr. Zhang. You’ve been reassigned.”
All eyes focused on her.
“Wonderful,” she snapped. How the heck was she going to keep this team together and employed? They really had done good. A lot of it. She scrambled to find a solution. “How long do we have a lease for this, um, office?” The place was depressing, but they had managed to spruce it up a little.
