“You look too relaxed.” The man standing in the bullpen, an Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives team member, grinned at his teammate, Terry Fordice. “Usually that’s when the shit hits the fan.”

“Don’t tell me that,” she groaned and made a face.

Terry, a topnotch ATFE agent herself, was relishing a rare moment of relaxation in the office, chatting with the other agent. She’d been immersed in an assignment with a three-man team and was taking advantage of a short lull in assignments.

He shrugged. “What can I say? It is what it is.”

At that moment, as if prompted by his words, the phone on her desk rang.

“God forbid I should take a moment to enjoy myself,” she joked as she picked up the receiver. “Fordice.”

“It’s Jaeger.” The tone of voice was sharp and clipped. “In my office now, please.”

“On my way.” She hung up and turned to the other agent, who was grinning. “I’ve been summoned. And wipe that smartass look off your face.”

“Jaeger?” he asked.

“Yeah. With Max Jaeger you never know if he’s going to give you a medal or kick your ass. Wish me luck.”

She hurried down the hallway, wondering what was up that prompted such a terse order.

Maybe whatever her boss had on his mind would challenge her and occupy her. God knew her social life was a big cipher. Ever since he had walked out of her life without looking back, she’d pretty much cut herself out of social activities. She knew she needed something to erase the painful memories that all these months later still clung to the edges of her mind. Something that would deal with Jesse Donovan’s abrupt departure, but she hadn’t found it yet.

One minute he was there, and things were growing between them. The next minute he was gone. Not even a goodbye. After the best night they’d had together, when she woke he was gone along with his motorcycle and every trace that he had ever been there. If she only knew why, maybe she could feel better about it.

Maybe.

At least she kept trying. If she could just block him out of her mind.

It’s over. Terry’s mind kept repeating that. Over, over, over.

But she hadn’t been able to move forward yet. She kept reliving the memories of the two of them naked in bed, having the wildest sex she’d ever imagined. Or just sitting together, having quiet time, relaxed in each other’s company. Or riding that big motorcycle of his, her seated in front so his hard cock, barely shielded by the denim of his fly, tried to insert itself between the cheeks of her ass. And it pissed her off. She’d never been one to let the end of a relationship wear on her.

“Night riding is great,” he teased, urging her to get dressed. “But just put on that long T-shirt you sleep in when I can’t talk you out of it.”

“What? My ass will show and everything,” she protested.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure no one sees it. Come on., It’s our last night in the country.”

She’d allowed herself to be talked into it, however reluctantly. They were staying outside of Washington, D.C. at a cottage a friend of hers knew about. They’d had long walks and sat in the sun and had more sex than she’d ever dreamed of, but tonight was their last night. She hated for this to end.

In the end she’d allowed herself to be talked into it, and off they went down the two-lane country road devoid of any vehicles but theirs. Jesse had her sit in front of him instead of behind, pulling up the tail of the T-shirt so her bare ass rested against his fly. She could feel his thick, hard cock straining against his jeans, especially every time they hit a bump.

It was a bright moonlit night with a gentle breeze, and she felt freer than she ever had in her life. And hornier, with Jesse’s dick all but wedged into the cleft between the cheeks of her ass.

“Lift up a little,” he murmured in her ear, slowing down just a bit.

She did as he asked while he fumbled behind her and, in a moment, she felt the bare skin of his shaft rubbing in that cleft.

Holy shit!

The walls of her sex throbbed and vibrated, and she swore she could come just from the friction and the vibration of the bike. They rode like that for a long time, the contact driving her crazy. She couldn’t even squeeze her legs together. Finally, Jesse pulled off the road into a little secluded area of trees, turned off the motorcycle, and nudged her forward until she was almost bent over the handlebars.

“Just feel,“ he whispered.

She heard the tearing of foil and the movement of his hands as he sheathed himself. Then, bending her even more and spreading the lips of her sex, he drove into her with a hard, fast thrust.

Oh god!

She thought she might come just from that movement alone

But once he had her in place, he turned on the motorcycle, leaving it in a low gear, the vibrations racing through their bodies. She squirmed back toward him, but he held her firmly in place, working his cock in and out while the bike did a lot of the work for them.

She was so lost in the sensations, in the orgasm building inside her, eyes closed to immerse herself in it, that when she exploded it shocked her. Jesse had one thick arm tight around her waist, clasping her to him while they shook with the force of their combined release.

When her inner walls stopped spasming and Jesse’s cock stopped throbbing, she leaned forward as if she’d never be able to move again. Jesse kissed the back of her neck and stroked the cheeks of her ass before easing himself from her body. Covered again by her T-shirt she let him settle her in place and kick the bike into third gear .

She was sure she’d never forget one minute of this evening.

And she never had.

In all her other relationships, she was the one who walked away. Not this time, not the one time it mattered, and the pain kept trying to push itself back to the surface. She’d always told herself not to get invested in a relationship but with Jesse there had been an invisible connection, something that bound them together. She’d opened her heart to him as well as her body and her mind and gotten pain and betrayal for her trust.

Never again, she told herself. Never, ever again. She’d keep her emotional and mental distance from all men from now on. It was a lot less painful that way. Hopefully Jaeger would have an assignment for her that would wipe Jesse Donovan out of her mind.

Yeah. As if.

Jaeger was waiting for her, sitting on the edge of his desk rather than more formally behind it, so maybe the ass kicking wasn’t on the docket. He was a tall, lean man with a weathered face who had been with ATFE for a number of years. Stories about him in the field were legend. Terry had considered it an honor and a special privilege when she was assigned to his team.

“Have a seat.” He indicated one of the two chairs in front of the desk.

“Am I in trouble?” she asked at once.

“Only if you say no.”

She studied his face, trying to discern if he was kidding or not.

“Okay, tell me what’s up.”

“We have a problem, and we’re running out of solutions.”

Terry lifted an eyebrow. “What kind of problem and how can I possibly solve it?”

“We’ve had our eye on Reed Morgan for some time. You know who he is, right?”

“Yes, I’ve read about him. Former military. Left the Army and opened an arms manufacturing company, which has grown to be a monster. Lots of guesses on where his financing came from. Outspoken critical of the government, which he calls too liberal.”

Max rubbed his jaw. “That’s the guy.”

“Then yes, when I joined the ATFE I was aware he had been a priority for some time.”

“Yeah, we’ve had our eye on him, watching his activities. The watch on him has been bumped up several notches in the past year. You know Morgan is considered a hard-liner. Among many other things, he’s been lobbying hard to overturn some of the recently passed gun laws, and his disdain for the government is well-known.”

“The whole agency knows Morgan Arms Manufacturing is one of the largest businesses of its kind in this country. They also own retail stores, plus they supply some of the arms to our military and even more go overseas. Lots of rebellions going on in the world. But I’m guessing you called me in here because something has pushed this to the forefront.”

“It has.”

“I know he’s spoken loudly about what he sees as the failure of America to enforce its laws, and the subsequent rise of crime.” Terry shook her head. “About the increasing numbers of what he called ‘soft’ laws that barely punished the criminals. But speaking out isn’t a crime, although for some people I think it should be. So, what’s changed here?”

“Our sources tell us Morgan Arms is suddenly buying a lot more steel, plastic, and aluminum than usual,” he told her, “so a lot of questions have floated in the air. That was the first thing that caught the director’s eye.”

“Has his client list increased?” Terry asked. “Have his orders from overseas clients gotten bigger?” Max rubbed his jaw. “After all, there is always a rebellion going on someplace and some army, legitimate or otherwise, that needs weapons. Or maybe they’re preparing to release a newly designed instrument. Or finally, is there another reason we don’t know that means trouble for everyone? I agree none of those possibilities are appealing. That’s for damn sure. But buying more raw materials and railing against the government isn’t a crime. If it was the jails would be full all the time.”

“True,” Jaeger agreed. “But here’s something you don’t know. For some time, Morgan’s been gathering a group together, first his closest friends and then people who we think share his beliefs about the way this country is run. You know there have been attacks by these off-the-wall militia groups and, based on what we learned, we’re afraid Morgan’s plotting another one. Anyway, over a year ago we managed to plant someone in Morgan’s group. We needed to find out what the hell was happening. He’s deep undercover, and sometimes we have to wait weeks for a word from him, which doesn’t help..”

“Damn!”

“No kidding. When my guy does get word out to me, he says Morgan’s running this like it’s the military, which is what we figured. I think Morgan’s made this group his own private militia, kind of an outlaw posse comitatus. He also has three or four specially selected men who he calls his ‘guard’ who watch the rest of them like hawks. He’s been making trips recently to the land he owns in Montana, a spread in the Crazy Mountains. Each time, he takes a few of his group with him. Our undercover got taken there once. He managed to get a message out that they train. All day. Every day. Exercise. Firearms. Hand-to-hand combat. And they study explosives.”

“Explosives.”

“Yeah, but they don’t actually detonate anything. I’m sure the neighbors would complain.”

“Still… Are they preparing for war?”

“That’s what we need to know. And it’s been a while since our guy communicated with us.”

“He must be in danger. If Morgan finds out who he is, he’ll kill him.”

“That’s right. Morgan keeps those guys on a chokehold. The last word my guy managed to get to us knocks all this to the front of the line. He said something very big and very destructive is being planned. He’s not in Morgan’s inner circle, but he and others have been told that before long they’ll be getting ready for an event that will change the country.”

“My god! What do you think it is? What does the director think?” She was getting an itchy feeling about this. “What’s his spread in Montana like? Could it be taking place there?”

“It’s two hundred acres of prime land he bought from the neighboring ranch that itself stretches ten thousand acres. I understand the entire perimeter of Morgan’s place is fenced, and he has a state-of-the-art security system at the ranch house.”

“Paranoid much?” she snarked.

“Not only that, that entire area is snugged up right to the foothills of the Crazies. They provide a great barrier, so people can’t spy on him.”

“Wonderful. Just great. For him.”

“There are some options, but they aren’t being used, mostly because the ranches on either side like it that way, and people are afraid of getting shot if they do. They’re training for something that’s in the works. Word is it won’t take place there because there’s no logical target. Malmstrom Air Force base is located nearby at Great Falls, but it’s impossible to get on there and plant explosives. Besides, it would not make a big enough statement.”

“Blowing up a military facility?”

“Our guy seems to think Morgan is aiming for something bigger.”

Terry frowned. “And you believe your guy is passing along good information?”

“I do. He was specially picked for this because he’s so good at it and very reliable. We think the increased purchases of materials for gun manufacture Morgan made recently are only part of it. The second part. We know something huge is in the wind, and we have to find out what it is before it bites us in the ass and we have a disaster of epic proportions.” He paused. “One other thing. A few days ago, hedge fund manager Frank Vanetti was killed. He managed resources in the billions, and it’s been whispered behind tightly closed doors he’s Morgan’s money man. The one who financed Morgan Arms in the beginning and may be financing whatever this big episode is.”

Terry tilted her head. “I guess the startup money had to come from somewhere. You don’t actually leave the military with a lot of change in your pockets.”

“Right.” Jaeger agreed. “But if whatever he’s planning is of the magnitude we fear, he would need a lot more resources than he has at his disposal.”

“Okay, then who killed Vanetti? And why? Would he and Morgan have had a falling out of some kind? Why kill off the golden goose?”

“That’s the question of the hour. Or questions. We have to find the answers and it won’t be easy. If Morgan’s behind it only a major falling-out would cause this.”

“So, what’s my role in all this?”

Max studied her face for a long time before answering.

“We need someone to get real close to Morgan. We decided it should be you. Finding that answer is part of it. Glean as much info from Morgan as possible and see if you can determine what the fuck he and his friends are up to. See if you can get him to let something slip. Check on who he spends time with. I have a feeling we’re on a timetable. Someone needs to connect with Morgan and see if they can find out what the hell is up, before it’s too late.”

“Great.” Terry made a face.

“We looked at this from all angles and you should know the brass agrees with me you’re perfect for this assignment. You’re sharp, smart, able to think on your feet, and expert with weapons and self-defense if you need them. You also have the kind of classy appearance that means Morgan won’t hesitate to include you in some of his activities. See if you can get a hint from any of those conversations.”

Terry laughed. “Is that a sexist remark?”

“It’s a dead serious one,” he pointed out, “and I think you know it. There’s a lot riding on this. What we’d like is for you to get close to Reed Morgan. We got you credentials with American Made, a magazine devoted to American firearms and enthusiasts. Your cover is you’ve been assigned by the magazine to do a profile on Reed Morgan. His life. His daily routine. The growth of his company. We want him to take you to meetings and events where he believes you’ll fit in so he can show you all the public parts of his life. And hopefully in all that you’ll find a clue to what the fuck is going on.”

Terry laughed. “You think I can just waltz into his office, and he’ll say sure, let’s do it?”

“He already has.” Her boss handed her a thin stack of business cards and a cell phone. The cards had Teresa Franklin on them and below it American Made and a phone number. “Obviously we weren’t going to use your actual surname. The number goes with that phone. If he calls that number, someone here will answer and give him the answers he’s looking for.”

“And the magazine is fine with this?”

Jaeger nodded. “The publisher got his balls in a wringer a couple of years ago, and we bailed him out. He owes us. Now it’s time to pay up.”

“Just to verify, you’re telling me it’s all set up?”

“It is,” he assured her. “It appeals to his ego. God knows he has a huge one. Get him to agree to let you follow him around, get a feel for what he does at work and outside the office.”

“So, let’s see. You want me to find out why the extra firearms, what the big bang is they’re planning, and when it’s going to take place.” Terry couldn’t help laughing. “Oh, and if they killed Vanetti and who pulled the trigger. You have a lot of confidence in me, Max.”

“True.” His face was dead serious. “We all do. You’ve pulled off something like this more than once. I believe you can do it again, and everyone from the director on down agrees with me. Part of this assignment is to get him to mention Frank Vanetti if you can. His connection to Morgan and his group is well hidden but we’re hoping he +might let something slip. We also would like to know the name of his new money man.”

“Oh, so you don’t want much. Just miracles.”

“Always hope for those,” Jaeger told her.

Terry snorted. “Fat chance. Just from other stuff I’ve read, the man’s more closemouthed than a dead fish.”

” We’ll see. Maybe we’ll get lucky. Do not, however, under any circumstance bring up Vanetti’s name yourself.”

“Got it.”

Terry felt a little flutter in her stomach, a combination of nerves and excited anticipation. If she succeeded in this assignment, it would be a huge boost to her career. She didn’t even want to examine the possibilities if she failed.

“When am I supposed to start?” she asked.

“Right away.” He picked up a slim folder from his desk and handed it to her. “Your homework for tonight. I didn’t want to send it to your existing phone in case the wrong people got hold of it. Or to your laptop in case it got hacked.”

Terry raised an eyebrow. “Hacked? You think Morgan would have someone try to dig into my laptop? I won’t even have it anywhere around him.”

“Doesn’t matter. He’s got people who can do anything. If the Russians and the Chinese can hack servers around the world, getting into your laptop would be a breeze.”

She frowned. “Damn, Max. So, the guy really is that paranoid?”

“He is. Which is why you have to be extremely careful around him.” He leaned a little closer. “Terry, if I didn’t think you could do this job, I wouldn’t be sending you.” He paused. “Want to turn it down?”

“What? Hell, no. I’ll get what you want. No question about it.”

“If things start to go south,” he told her, “or your cover is blown, get out of there at once. We can always try another angle. I’m not gambling with your life.”

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “If Reed Morgan is planning something big and dangerous, I want to find out what it is so we can stop him.”

“Just remember— ” he started again.

She held up a hand. “Got it. Now. Details, please. I assume I’m going to San Antonio, since that’s where his headquarters is?”

“Yes.” He handed her an envelope. “Plane, car, and hotel reservations, and a driver’s license also in the name of Teresa Franklin, to go with the business cards. I didn’t want to use your last name in case Morgan has someone run a trace on you. Who knows how deep they can dig about someone.”

“I agree.”

He reached behind him for something else and handed her a cell phone. “A burner for when you call here. Good luck.”

“I make my own,” she sassed, then rose from her chair. “Thanks for having confidence in me for this.”

“You’ve proven yourself, Terry. Just be careful.”

At least she had something to occupy her mind besides thoughts of Jesse Donovan, and maybe something to fill the hole in her heart.