On each door around the compound was a trident, the only indication that Neptune existed. Each of the three points of the trident represented the three directors-the secretary of defense, the assistant attorney general for national defense out of the Justice Department, and the CEO of the largest private weapons manufacturer in the country. They were The Directors, and they had more power than God. And worse, they thought they were gods, making deals, moving chess pieces, and putting lives at risk on a daily basis. But even with the corruption of politics and private enterprise, they were the best hope there was.
Headquarters space was large and utilitarian. The "deck," as they called it, was built more like the interior of NASA than like a regular conference room. It was dimly lit, and one entire wall was covered with three large screens. The screens were used for conference calls and team briefings. To either side of the screens were the flags of the allied countries to remind them they were fighting wars that affected all of the nations on a global scale.
On the wall to their right were computer stations, the technology so advanced that not even the Pentagon had the same level of access. Though The Gravediggers were first and foremost a strike force, a lot of their job required the proper intel and investigative work. The back wall was another set of computer monitors, but they were hooked up to the surveillance system. They had cameras everywhere on the grounds, interior and exterior. They used satellite and radar for potential air strikes.
As far as anyone besides the people in the room was concerned, The Gravediggers didn't exist. They'd all been considered a threat to their governments-rogue agents-and the sanction had gone out for their deaths. That's when Eve Winter would pay them a visit and tip them off. And then she'd let them make the decision to come with her or die with disgrace.
She was brilliant at what she did. Just as he'd told Levi, Eve would show up like the Angel of Death and make it look like all hell had broken loose while making it appear that each of them had lost the battle. As far as their governments knew, they were dead men-disavowed and dishonorable-though in reality they were anything but. They might have lost the battle, but there was still a war to be won.
Deacon's eyes skimmed over the report and then cut to the monitor. He couldn't stop watching her. One of the screens showed Tess and her mother working together in the embalming room. He'd already watched Theodora pocket some of the makeup that had been with the deceased's belongings and some kind of lapel pin that had been on the burial suit. Theodora was an interesting woman, but he could tell by the line between Tess's brows that she had a killer of a headache, and she'd about reached her limit with her mother.
Since sleep hadn't been on the agenda, he'd spent the time reviewing the video from earlier that morning. From when she'd first found Levi. He and his brothers had been left with a choice, and they hadn't been wise in that choice. Actions had consequences. Always. And anyone who thought otherwise was a fool.
The priority had been getting the van out of sight so The Shadow could repair the area where the bullet had damaged the door. If they hadn't gotten it out when they had people would have been up and starting their days, and there was no doubt in his mind someone would've noticed the bullet hole. People in Last Stop noticed every damned thing.
So they'd had no choice but to make a quick stop and unload Levi's body. The embalming room had been the closest location that could be kept secure, so they'd moved him quickly, and then Dante and Axel had hauled ass out of town to get the van repaired, while Colin and Elias took the opportunity to catch a couple of hours of sleep.
If she'd stayed asleep as was her normal habit, none of this ever would've happened. She wouldn't have been in danger. And he wouldn't have kissed her.
He'd watched the video over and over again as she'd struggled with Levi-her fear tempered with determination. She was a sight to behold, and he wanted her. Bad.
He'd only let himself watch a replay of their kiss once before deleting the footage. Lack of privacy had been another factor in him keeping his hands off of Tess over the last couple of years. Thank God she'd never had male company over. He doubted he would have let the man live if he'd had to watch it unfold on the screen. She was imprinted on his soul, and though he hadn't claimed her, she was his.
He'd thought more than a time or two that he should thank Henry Pottinger for changing his mind about marrying Tess. She'd been mad as hell, but she hadn't been brokenhearted, which told him right there it was a marriage for a specific purpose instead of a marriage of love. Tess was a woman who craved family. Her own family situation was unique, to say the least, and she wanted to be part of a stable family unit. She was the kind of woman marriage and children meant something to.