Her Covert Protector (Rogue Protectors Book 4)

“NSA Level One! I can’t believe you were holding out on me!”

John swallowed a smile as Nadia grumbled at him. They left the CTTF headquarters after his revelation. Bristow followed behind them in the Expedition. While Kelso and Gabby pursued the Sally Davis lead, Levi continued to trail Dmitry. His last message to John was that the Order boss left the county coroner’s office and went back to his hotel.

Nadia checked the database. Maxim’s body was scheduled for release tomorrow morning.

“You didn’t require that kind of access before,” he told her.

“So the rumors are true! Intelligence agencies are slyly funding some of the servers on the ToR network.”

“I’m not confirming or denying.”

“John!”

“All I’m saying is you have a backdoor to trace that IP, but we need to use my network access to get to those servers.”

“Does Bristow have access?”

“He’s an agency contractor. Of course he does.”

“And I’m what exactly? Your side piece?”

He cast her a brief glance of amusement. “You’re so sassy today, and you can’t blame the caffeine.”

“Maybe it’s the lack of caffeine, so be warned.”

John barked a laugh and caught himself. His unrestrained laughter sounded so foreign to him that it left him bemused. He gave her the side-eye again, his mouth still threatening to break into a grin. And then he let out a breath.

Driving down Sunset Blvd and then making a turn into Westwood, he was hit with an epiphany. He adored this woman. Every single quirk, every bit of her personality—even if she appeared to have several. But who didn’t? John certainly did. That was why he connected to her immediately. Add to that her intelligence. He derived immense satisfaction in feeding her appetite in shiny things of the technological kind. Which was why he wanted to punch Bristow earlier for spoiling his surprise.

As they approached her apartment, a tiny pinch of guilt nagged at him. The look on Clyde’s face imprinted in his mind. The man’s face lit up when he saw Nadia this morning and started to dim when John brushed him off.

Fuck. What was wrong with him? These things hadn’t bothered him before, but then again, they were usually people who were used to it or humans of the unsavory kind. But those four men in the apartment mattered to Nadia. John cared about her and by extension, he should include them. But was it a hardship? No matter how grudgingly he hated to admit it, he was growing fond of those meddling old farts, even the big Scotsman who would rather see John hanged, or drawn and quartered given a chance.

“We should tell them tonight,” he said.

“I’m not going to pretend to misunderstand what you mean, but you meant my pregnancy.”

“Yes. I didn’t think you’d want to wait to tell your dad.”

“Normally, people wait four weeks to tell family and twelve to tell the rest of the world.”

“And it would be cruel to tell Stephen and make him keep it from his buddies.”

Nadia laughed. “Especially after the pregnancy test fiasco, I’m sure they’re all impatiently waiting.”

He reached across the console and took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Then we tell them.”

When they arrived at the SkyeLark apartment complex, Clyde’s unit appeared to be dimly lit. The raucous noise on the rooftops told them where they were.

“There’s a chill in the night. Big Dugal takes every opportunity to tell Scottish folk stories around the fire pit.”

“Sure hope there’s food,” Bristow said behind them.

“You can be sure there’s whisky,” Nadia said.

“You can’t drink alcohol,” John told her.

Bristow’s mumbled “holy fuck” made John shut his eyes at his blunder.

They stopped in their ascent, and he turned to face the SEAL. Flabbergasted was an apt description for Bristow’s face.

“Holy fuck.” The SEAL repeated and then glanced at Nadia. “You’re pregnant.”

“Uhmm…” Nadia mumbled.

Bristow burst out laughing and smacked his thigh. “Fucking hell, G. This is priceless. Wait until the guys—”

“You will say nothing.”

“But”

“Zilch.” John did a slicing motion across his throat. “Got it?”

The SEAL’s eyes danced with humor. “But … you should be proud. Oh man.” That could be tears of mirth at the corners of his eyes.

Son of a bitch.

“We’re telling Stephen.” They resumed their ascent.

Nadia looked over her shoulder at Bristow. “You would have found out anyway.”

“I’m honored,” came his smartass reply.

He unloaded to Bristow in that Ukrainian dungeon. Guess the man deserved to be the first to receive the news.

“For a spy, you sure have a big mouth,” Nadia informed John cheekily.

He grunted. That was a terrible lapse, and it made him uncomfortable that he had let his guard down when he got too comfortable.

When they arrived at the rooftop to what appeared to be a huddle around the fire pit, he tamped down the urge to retreat with Nadia to her apartment and start working.

All sets of eyes went to the woman beside him, and then to John, and then, finally, with curiosity, to Bristow.

The regular four men were present. There were also the additional two who John knew were Dugal’s sons Colin and Alec. John’s resolve to be nicer was put to an immediate test. He couldn’t help thinking that the big ole Scot was trying to matchmake his sons to Nadia. Tear her away from the hands of the interloper—him.

It didn’t help that Nadia emitted an excited cry as she wiggled out of his hold and rushed to greet them.

“Alec!” she gushed at the dark-haired one that was a carbon copy of his dad. “Did you just get back from Scotland?”

“Aye, lass, and you’re as bonny as ever.” The younger Cameron engulfed Nadia in a bear hug.

He rolled his eyes at the affected brogue, at the same time wanting to yank his woman back into his arms.

Nadia oohed and giggled. “I like that accent. You need to try out for that new Highlander series.”

“Aye, that’s the plan. That’s why I did some immersion to prepare.”

“Hand her over, you knave.” Colin pulled Nadia from her brother’s embrace and gave her a squeeze and a kiss.

Bristow moved up to John’s flank. “Easy, killer.”

He grunted even as the edges of his vision started to haze in red. Or maybe it was green.

“Have we entered into a Robert the Bruce alternate reality?” his friend chuckled.

“Tell me about it.”

“Now, lads, you don’t want Nadia’s man to be breaking your noses for hugging her too long,” Dugal stepped forward and held out a tumbler to John. “You haven’t tasted whisky this good. My boy brought it back from Scotland.”

John accepted the glass. He’d definitely be needing a drink.

Dugal turned to Bristow. “You’re flame-haired like my Colin.”

“Irish,” the SEAL replied.

Thankfully the Scots and Irish usually got along. John had enough of having Nadia being sandwiched between Dugal’s two sons who seemed to ignore their father’s warning.

“Babe,” John cut in. “Shouldn’t you say hey to Stephen.” He flicked his attention to the two men who eyed him with a mixture of amusement and hostility. “Name’s John. Nadia’s man.”

“Take note. That’s not boyfriend,” Clyde called out as he and Stephen approached.

“Boyfriend is for boys,” Dugal piped in. “John’s got that right.”

John’s grin was smug. So that was all it took to swing Dugal to his side. He exchanged handshakes with the younger Scots. There may had been a test of strength in their grips, but he was used to it. Alpha posturing was so common in his line of work.

“Dad,” Nadia greeted Stephen and then moved on to kiss Arthur and Clyde on the cheek.

“Have you all eaten?” her dad asked. “We had an early dinner and didn’t know that you guys would come home early.”

“We’ve come home to work actually,” Nadia said, glancing at John. “But we can hang a bit, right?”

John shrugged. “No rush. You’ve put in a lot of work today already.”

“Have a drink at least,” Alec said. “Got one that’s been aged seventeen years.”

John took a nip of his whisky. “This is good stuff.” The smoke and body was definitely top-notch. “However, Nadia can’t have alcohol.”

The four older men perked up, their mouth parting in expectation.

The younger ones glared at John.

“You controlling arse.” Colin advanced menacingly toward John.

Alec cracked his knuckles. “Aye, looks that way, bro.”

What was it with these Scotsmen always on the ready to brawl?

“You two stop it.” Nadia insinuated herself between him and Dugal’s boys.

It turned out to be the wrong move because John’s protective instinct roared to the forefront. Everything happened so fast.

A fist went flying straight for his face, and John automatically yanked Nadia away, shoving her into Bristow.

He threw up the other arm to block the blow, the glass in that hand shattering on concrete. That left his torso wide open for Alec to throw a punch into his solar plexus, stealing his breath. John folded over, gritting his teeth, because his bruised ribs from two weeks ago still stung. He exploded with an uppercut, catching Colin under his chin. Spinning, he threw a back kick that nailed Alec at the hip, sending him careening onto his ass.

“Jesus Christ!” Dugal bellowed as he waded into the melee and dragged Alec up by the scruff of his shirt.

Nadia was immediately at John’s side. “Are you all right?”

He would be damned before he admitted he was hurting, so he exhaled slowly and smirked. “Yeah.”

She wheeled around and yelled at Dugal’s sons. “What the hell is wrong with you two?”

“They’re being protective, lass, and are already a wee bit into their cups.” Dugal scowled at his boys. “Still no excuse. Shame on ye all. Yer mother would be turning in her grave.”

In the midst of this, the other three older men edged closer, waiting patiently for the mini-brawl to come under control. Stephen broke away from the trio and approached Nadia. “Is there something you both want to tell us?”

She grinned at her dad and took her place at John’s side. Linking their hands together, she smiled. “Yes. The tests are positive.”

John put an arm around her and grinned crookedly at the guys. “We’re pregnant.”

Nadia glanced up at him, her eyes seemed to gleam in the firelight. He lowered his head and kissed her.

“Should we kick his arse for that?” Alec wondered.

“Shut yer mouth,” Dugal growled.

When they faced their audience again, John’s eyes zeroed in on Stephen. “I’ll take care of her.”

“Is he going to make an honest woman out of her now?” Clyde wondered.

Dugal crossed his arms and puffed his chest. “But, of course.”

Stephen and Arthur exchanged a look before awarding John their expectant gazes.

He may be sweating a little, and he definitely needed another drink.

Thankfully, Nadia rescued him from answering. “Guys, I’m only a little over two weeks pregnant. We wouldn’t have mentioned anything if it hadn’t been for that pregnancy test fiasco.”

“What pregnancy test fiasco?” Colin wanted to know.

“Apparently, John bought eight pregnancy tests,” Dugal said. “I wasn’t around, but the paper bag tore and spilled them out in front of Clyde’s apartment.”

“Man, I’d hate to be in your shoes right now,” Bristow said behind him. “But this is so entertaining.”

John glanced over his shoulder. “Fuck off.”

“I don’t want to make a big deal out of it yet,” Nadia wailed. “We’re not supposed to tell anyone until twelve weeks.”

“Och, lass, you think you could keep it from us? We’d never stop pestering ye,” Dugal said. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure we feed ye right so your bairn will be strong and feisty.”

“Why don’t we drink to a healthy baby?” Arthur announced and then looked at Nadia. “I can make you a non-alcoholic one.”

“John, may I hug my daughter?” Stephen asked.

He chuckled. “As long as I can have her back.”

Nadia’s dad smiled and opened his arms. His daughter dove into them, and they hugged each other tight.

A knot backed up in John’s throat and he thought about his own mother. He was going to break the news to her soon. But he knew once he told Fiona Mason she would be a grandma, John better have his shit together.

Alec came up to him and handed him another dram of whisky. “Congrats, man.”

“Thanks.”

“Let me get this straight,” Bristow said. “The man steals and hides the Selkie’s …”

“Seal skin,” Dugal offered.

“Right, so he can force the Selkie to remain on land and become his wife.”

“Aye, but she eventually falls in love with him.”

Nadia hid a smile behind the glass of hot apple cider. The Selkie Wife was one of Dugal’s favorite tales of these mythical creatures from Scottish folklore. A seal that can shape-shift into a person—usually a beautiful woman who captures the heart of a human male.

Bristow scratched his trim beard. “Yeah, and they have kids, but after a few years she eventually finds the seal skin in a trunk and returns to the ocean.”

“Aye, it’s her true nature.”

“And she leaves her family behind.”

“Aye.” Dugal finished his dram of whisky. “In some versions, the mother still shows herself to her kids when they are playing on the beach.”

“And the husband sits by the fire grieving the loss of his love.” Bristow shook his head and grinned wryly. “Man, that’s some tragic tale.”

Dugal guffawed. “Most Scottish folklore involving romance between shapeshifters and humans rarely ends well.”

Everyone laughed.

The menfolk were getting along, gathered around the fire pit and passing around the bottles of whisky that Alec brought home from the Isle of Skye and Talisker. John never left her side, though. Nadia suspected he was keeping Dugal’s sons away, which was funny because she was already pregnant with his baby. There was no reason to be possessive.

“I believe there’s a metaphor there,” Stephen said.

“Let’s hear it,” Dugal invited.

“I’ve heard you tell this story so many times, but I wonder why I never get tired of hearing it.”

“I never get tired in the telling of it either.” Dugal smiled a bit drunkenly.

“The seal skin is the wife’s true self.” Her father fixed his spectacles. The fire reflected in them, but Nadia could feel his gaze on her. “Many times we put on different skins and invent personalities in our search for happiness, but somehow in the end we’re not truly happy unless we embrace our true nature.”

Nadia raised her glass to her father. “Way to go, Dad. Is that your sideways method of reprimanding me for all the money I spent on cosplay costumes as a teenager?”

“You were finding yourself,” Stephen said. “And you were a good kid. You made the grades; that was your reward.”

“From Knightress to Black Widow,” she said. “I do have lofty goals.”

Alec waggled his brows. “I remember you in that bodysuit.”

John’s laugh was a bit maniacal. “And I’d stop right there … lad.”

“Halloween is coming up,” Colin piped in. “Do you have a costume yet?”

“I have yet to look.” She threw the man by her side a mischievous look. “John is dressing up as the Locke Demon—”

“Not a word,” Bristow cut in. “I haven’t watched this season yet.” The SEAL smirked at the man beside her. “But John as our demon … now this I wanna see.”

John shot to his feet. “Wow, look at the time.” She cringed at how fake he sounded, and Bristow, who had a finger over his mouth, was trying not to react.

“This was fun,” he continued. “But Nadia said she’s got work to finish up, so we’re turning in.”

“Make sure she doesn’t sleep too late,” Clyde said.

John didn’t answer the older man but gave a nod. Nadia noticed he’d been more tolerant toward the menfolk in general, so maybe he was able to resolve his boundary issues on his own. It must be his skill in adapting to any situation.

She was also surprised the others hadn’t asked questions when Bristow went inside her apartment with them, but maybe they were suitably imbibed that they didn’t think it was strange. She already thought to say that Bristow worked at Homeland, too. Although Nadia wondered how long she could keep her stories straight. They needed a cover for John, Bristow, and everyone who worked around them that would hold up to scrutiny.

They settled around her kitchen counter.

“Okay,” she demanded, rubbing her palms together in anticipation. “Gimme.”

“Depends,” John drawled, cocking his hip beside the counter and facing her so Bristow couldn’t see his expression. The smolder in his eyes sent a pulse of heat between her thighs. “What are you willing to do to get that Level One?”

“Christ,” the SEAL grumbled. “Do I have to ask for tips from Kelso on how he handles the flirting between Roarke and Gabby?”

Ignoring Bristow’s quip, and without taking his eyes off her, John pulled his laptop from his duffel of magic tricks. “Here. Use mine for now. Your access hasn’t cleared yet and since your laptop—”

“Isn’t agency vetted.” Nadia extended her arms. “I know the drill. So, gimme.”

“Just so you know, Garrison’s never let anyone touch his personal devices,” Bristow said.

“I’m very protective of my personal devices,” John deadpanned and turned over his laptop.

Nadia gave a shake of her head at the double meaning and booted up his machine. A shiver went down her spine when he came up behind her, not even bothering to hide that he was crowding her deliberately.

“I’ll pass if it means losing my personal space,” the SEAL laughed. “Seriously, do I need to be here?”

A login screen popped open with a skull and crossbones and a warning that misuse of that property was subject to prosecution on charges of treason.

“Uhm…” Nadia said.

“Here.” With both arms around her now, he typed in his access credentials and then authenticated using his phone. When the screen dissolved into the desktop one, Nadia inspected the icons that were available. None of the programs were familiar. It wasn’t a stretch that it was created solely for the CIA. The shiver in her spine became a thrill of anticipation.

High technology and a sexy spy … Nadia was extremely turned on. Maybe that was why John had Bristow stay. So real work could actually be done.

Her eyes zeroed in on a program, and she instinctively knew it was the one she needed.

The OnionShaver.

To negotiate the Dark Web with anonymity, many of its clients used The Onion Router software called Tor. She clicked on the icon and the screen transformed into a hologram map of the world, but quickly adjusted and zeroed in on the west coast.

“This might take a while,” Nadia said. “I’ve identified several exit nodes for Anonymous_754.”

“You’re talking about the final server that reassembles the message?”

“Yes.” Network traffic analysis was time consuming because of the millions of packets going over the wire which was why Nadia wrote a program that could parse the data specific to what she was looking for. Still, the volume took time.

“So what do we do next?” Bristow said.

“Identify the hops that Anonymous_754 use,” she replied. “Judging from how long it takes the packets to travel, I’m thinking four, but …” Nadia grinned with glee as she poked around the OnionShaver program. “I have a feeling the app simplifies this.” The data could hop from Los Angeles to another node in Canada, and then bounce off to Russia before heading to its target destination.

“Bingo,” Nadia whispered as the path of the first IP was revealed on the screen—a location in New York.

“Holy fuck,” Bristow muttered.

“I’m assuming you’re getting somewhere,” John said with amusement.

“Yup,” she said. “This is still going to take a while.”

“How long?” John asked.

She glanced up at him. “I guess you never used this app.”

A brow arched. “Does it look like I know that shit?”

“I don’t know, John, it looks pretty basic,” she teased. “But in answer to your question and with the rate it’s going, two hours?”

“All right,” John replied. “Maybe we should get more comfortable in the living room.”

Seventy-five minutes later, while John was watching the second season of Hodgetown, Nadia’s tracing returned with a familiar address.

“Stop the episode,” Nadia said, sitting up straight on the couch beside John.

Bristow got up from the armchair adjacent to hers and went behind her. “You got something?”

“Not an exact street address, but the coordinates put it around the vicinity of Club Sochi.”

“Damn, the club Dmitry went into yesterday?” John asked.

“Yes.”

“Interesting.” He thumbed through his phone. “Levi said Vovk checked into his hotel and hasn’t left.”

“I have a line on him.” Bristow tapped around his keyboard. “He ordered room service. Do you want to know what he had for dinner?”

Nadia could only shake her head again at the illegal surveillance activities these guys were doing. Well, illegal if you weren’t the CIA. They operated under the as-long-as-you-don’t-get-caught code, which sounded thrilling to her.

Maybe that was why she was attracted to John. She wanted to live vicariously through his experiences. And that was why she was so pissed at him—because he was pushing her before she was ready to shed the skin she’d donned over the years since finding out Stephen was a Russian defector. Was she, indeed, like the Selkie who was ignoring her true self? Did she really want to live on the edge? Maybe a little?

“Has he made arrangements for a flight back to Kiev?”

“Ooh, I can tell you that,” Nadia jumped in. “He’s booked tomorrow on Oceana flight 314.” She glanced up from her screen. “Have you guys found out how he got in?”

“Yes,” Bristow said. “Evan Wagner’s private plane.”

“Why does that name sound familiar?”

“Primeflix,” John said.

Her eyes widened. “Wait, we’re talking about Evan Wagner the former action star?”

“Yup.”

John glanced over his shoulder at Bristow. “See if Sochi is a hangout for Wagner.”

“Already did. And it is.”

“Was he there last night?”

“Checking.”

While the two men hashed out Wagner’s whereabouts, Nadia was staring at another message that came into the CTTF chatroom.

It said: “Lisbeth freed the reporter from the basement.”

This time it wasn’t signed.