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she had coffee. Caffeine fixed most problems.

 She crashed immediately in the front seat after walking from the ER to the car. She had refused a wheelchair beyond the curb, not wanting to be perceived as weak by the Jenkins, but then slept, oblivious to the car ride. Talk about situational awareness. And then it dawned on her—she fully trusted Nick Jenkins to cover her.

“Are we still in Palo Alto?”

 If they were at a distance from town, how could they quickly pivot when they got the information on Reeves? The well-tended waterfront houses looked more like an upper-class suburb than a college campus.

“We’re between Palo Alto and Mountain View, less than five miles from the campus. This is the house Jordan, Dean’s oldest daughter, lived in when she was a student at Stanford. Jenkins Security installed all the latest in security when she resided here. Richard, also a Stanford graduate, is on the board of trustees and attends regular meetings, and periodically gives special seminars for the faculty and graduate students. Since he frequently stays here, the house has the most current surveillance equipment and the capacity to function as a safe house. It will be our temporary headquarters.”

An armed man opened the gate.

“By the look of the guard’s Glock 17, you aren’t solely relying on tech.” She approved but didn’t say anything. Nick Jenkins didn’t need approval. The man knew his business.

“Hell, no. We’re all trained for combat, not cybercrime. That’s Reeves’s job.”

“But without Reeves …” She hated that her voice quivered just mentioning his name. “We need top tech on this. Molly is the best at the CIA, but she is tasked with the malware search at the moment. I’ll call the director and see if he’d be willing to reassign Molly to our team.” She’d use her connection to Richard Dean to get what she needed for Reeves.

“No need for Molly. Izzy Benson is already on board. She’s my brother Sten’s fiancée, a female version of Reeves. Izzy is NSA’s superstar, so we’re covered. Reeves is family. Everyone is working to bring him home.”

Nick’s words eased the persistent panic in every breath she took since she’d learned of Reeves’s abduction. She wasn’t alone. Reeves wasn’t alone. He had a family with incredible skills and resources.

She slowed her breathing, trying to suppress the image of Tex’s battered body that replayed in her brain. Knowing the Sureños could be torturing Reeves accomplished nothing. She usually could compartmentalize, but her feelings for the sensitive and caring man were messing with her head. She was a trained CIA officer. Get a grip, Darcy.

“It is most likely that the Sureños are holding Reeves. And they’re being directed by an unknown partner. If we’re lucky, their partner hasn’t sent more manpower to assist the Sureños.”

Nick pulled the SUV in front of the home’s entrance. He killed the engine and turned. “We’re already watching all possible entries into the city. This has cartel written all over it with the drugging, kidnapping, assassination, but the big question that remains is who is paying for the services of the Sureños?”

“The Sureños wouldn’t commit blatant acts of terrorism. They might sell guns to our enemies, but attacking the embassies is bad for business and calls attention to their activities. My money is on Russia, who is very interested in the natural resources that Africa has to offer. They’re doing exactly what they did in the Ukraine—offering assistance before they slowly overtake the infrastructure, and their military is insinuated to take control. And how better to solidify their position than by knowing their enemies’ covert intelligence?”

“Our team’s focus is to get Reeves out of the hands of the scumbags. The whole link between the Sureños and Russia is more within the CIA’s purview. But I’m expecting you have some experience taking out the garbage?”

Now, this was a mission she could wrap her head around. She almost smiled, but it hurt too much to move her face. “Yeah, I’ve had my share of scumbags. And I need a Sig, but I can work with a Glock 17.”

“Like the attitude.” He jumped out of the car, ducking his head inside to talk with her. “I’ll give you a hand down. You’ll find your equilibrium is off if you’ve never been in a sling. You’ll learn pretty quick that two arms are a big help to balance.”

Darcy nodded. She had to swallow her pride. Never easy for her, and then to be forced to accept help. Also, not her greatest strength.

Nick opened her door and held out his hand. She swung her legs around and took his hand.

“It sucks to be injured. I’ve been there.”

“Thanks.”

She followed him into the house, thinking of when she had followed Reeves into another safe house. Her body had stored the memories of their time in the pool, her skin on fire by his sensual and tender touch, the wiry hair on his chest abrading her nipples, his mouth on her. She would find Reeves. He wouldn’t escape her. He owed her a night together.

“We’ve set you up in one of the bedrooms. It’s this way.” Nick gestured to the clear circular steps. “I’ll wake you when we have intelligible action.”

Like Merissa Storm’s, the main floor had wall-to-wall windows to view the lake and a surrounding outside deck to take advantage of California’s sunny clime. It was an open-floor plan with three steps up to the main floor and then a stairwell to the bedrooms.

“Thanks, but I’m ready to work. Can I get a cup of coffee?” Darcy headed toward the kitchen, where she spotted a coffee maker. A long marble-top island divided the kitchen from the living room.

Two dark-haired Nick look-alikes came into the living room from a room on the main floor. The genes were potent in the Jenkins family. They were all broad, big men with sharp features, piercing eyes, and determined chins that spoke of will and stubbornness. They had the arrogance that only spec forces emitted. Total confidence in who they were

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