Roman chuckled. “You’re right. Consider it done. What else do you need?”
Considering his question, Oz paced to the other side of the room. On the return rotation, Roman gave a slow, sorry shake of his head. “Man, somethin’s eating at you. You knew Rose Kilbourn from before—her father was your CO back when you were a budding Navy officer.”
“That’s not your damn business, Roman.”
“It is when I see my leader looking like someone just shot his fucking dog and then held a match to his grandmother’s heels to get her to talk. You and Rose were a thing?”
“I said,” he said tightly, “it’s none of your goddamn business.”
“So that’s it. What happened? You put your hands on her and things got out of control?”
In three long steps, Oz crossed the room and slammed a hand into the tabletop near where Roman sat. His friend only gave him a smug, sideways look. “If you keep talking, I’m going to smash your teeth through the back of your skull. Got it, Roman?” He glared down at the man.
“Threatening me doesn’t change the fact that you’re so fucking knotted up that you can’t even think straight. I bet right now, you’re seeing Rose’s face flitting through your brain. Am I right?”
“Shut. The. Hell. Up. You. Motherfucker.”
“Oh, it’s bigger than just sex. You fell for her.”
“Jesus Christ, you must want to die.”
Roman flicked his fingers, dismissing Oz’s threat.
He had to get the hell away from this man before he had to dig a new grave in the cemetery out back.
“Stay out of my head and focus on your damn job, Roman. Where the hell’s North? I need to share some other information with him.”
Roman didn’t make a move to leave his seat. “Up in the bell tower, I think.”
“What is he? The Hunchback of Notre Dame now?”
“Not entirely sure what’s up his ass, but it seems like the pair of you could exchange notes.”
Oz huffed with irritation as he stalked to the door. Without a backward glance at Roman, he walked out. He stormed through the church to the stairs in the back leading to the bell tower. As he passed the pews, a few people threw him looks. He ignored them all and took the steps two at a time.
North appeared at the head of the stairs. “Father.”
Oz reached the top. The space provided enough room for a couple people to stand and speak. In this case, exchange information.
“I didn’t realize you were back.” North’s brows drew together.
“Just arrived. I’ve got some information on Lars. Can you help me?”
“Of course.”
Oz arched a brow. “Even though the others are claiming he’s turned against us? That our brother broke the covenant?”
North nodded. “We defend each other even in death.” He repeated the last of the oath.
Relief washed through Oz. “All right then. I’ve got some suspected areas where the counterintelligence agent might be. One is close to the location where Lars was last spotted.”
“I’ll bring up the maps and we’ll find them.”
“Thank you.” He looked around. “What are you doing up here, anyway?”
North looked toward the cutout in the brick that also silhouetted the big bell. “It’s peaceful up here. Sometimes I just have to step away from it all, you know?”
Over the years, Oz had counseled a lot of The Guard’s members for this very reason. He reached out and lay a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “It isn’t an easy life. You can always confide in me.”
“I know.” North gripped his hand where it rested on his shoulder.
For a moment, Oz struggled with the urge to tell him about Rose. How fucking tormented he still felt after walking away, and how last time his love for her never faded.
The words lodged in his throat, and he carefully swallowed the jagged sounds before they could form.
He dropped his hand and folded his arms. “What’s happened that upset you?” he asked North.
He dropped his gaze. “I fucked up.”
Oz narrowed his gaze on him. “How?”
North heaved a sigh. “I’ve been trying to figure that out myself.”
“You’ve been working nonstop for months. Let’s get another pair of eyes on your work so you can take a break.”
He shook his head before Oz completed the sentence. “No. I got it. I just needed to regroup. Thanks for listening to my moment of weakness.”
“Dude, if that’s weakness, it’s no wonder you’re one of our best.”
North’s lips twitched in a small smile.
“When was the last time you were in the field, working hands on?”
“November.”
“Too long. You need some action and not just endless maps on a screen. Next thing that comes up, it’s yours.”
North nodded. “I’m ready, as always, to serve.”
Oz clapped him on the back in a bro-hug, and then left him to his thoughts so he could seek sanctuary in his own. He had a lot of work to do in order to track down Rose’s hunter.
And when he located the man, Oz would personally see him finished.
* * * * *
Oz touched a fingertip to the comms unit in his ear, triggering it to link up with the others’. He and Roman set up for hours on a suburban street that reminded him far too much of the one where he’d left Rose. These bastards really did hide in plain sight, and he’d hidden Rose in plain sight too. He just hoped he didn’t live to regret it.
Darkness shuttered the windows of the house across the street. They’d determined blackout curtains hung on the windows, but as far as they could tell, nobody had arrived there yet.
“Have we determined what this cargo is yet?” Oz turned to Roman. “Girls brought up from Mexico to New York?”
“Yeah, the usual. Motherfuckers,” Roman bit off.
“We knew Omar Sharpe had a hand in trafficking somehow—after Rose hit on that account, she was bound for a ship to Venezuela. He isn’t just pirating weapons off ships or buying military officers to get them to pass the weapons. And him being under the command of one of the biggest traffickers in the world makes him more dangerous,” Oz said.
“Money is money and goods are goods, whether they’re military arms or fifteen-year-old girls sold to the highest bidder.” Roman’s hard profile looked lethal in the low lights coming off their surveillance equipment, but the rest of his body remained in shadow, which gave him an eerie appearance.
The Church had tracked a shipment to this location on this very night, and they were never wrong. But the delay made Oz edgy.
An image popped up, and they both stared at the middle-aged man posed with a naked and terrified young woman.
Roman shook his head. “Jesus Christ.”
“Just like we thought—Sharpe kidnapped his enemy’s daughter and is flaunting her to draw him out.” Oz’s fingers flew over the laptop keyboard.
“Or draw out the highest bidder. Look at this shit.” Roman swiped a screen so Oz could see the auction site blowing up with huge numbers to win the terrorized beauty.
“Fuck. He better be bringing her to this place soon because I’m ready to cut off his balls and stuff them down his throat,” Oz grated out.