Locked and Loaded Page 3

  The comment generated a few chuckles and managed to break the ice. The tension in Charlie’s shoulders relaxed by a small degree and she chanced a look Mason’s way to find the same inscrutable expression on his face. Well, she guessed it was impossible to please all of the people all of the time.

  “Eagan’s got a pretty good thing going. He’s managed to elude arrest and indictment for several years while he’s been busy smuggling diamonds out of the DRC and into India, where they’re being cut, polished, and laundered. Eagan’s managed to cut out the middleman by doing most of the legwork himself, including forging the Kimberley certificates for the diamonds. The FBI and CIA have kept a close eye on him and it’s become apparent that Eagan is trying to amass a small fortune from the proceeds of the diamond sales. We’re assuming he’s generating seed money to help fund Faction Five.”

  A low murmur spread throughout the group. Once again, Charlie’s gaze found Mason’s. The indifference melted from his expression and a deep furrow cut into his brow. He leaned forward in the chair and let his elbows rest on the table. For some damned reason, she found his undivided attention far more disarming than his cool indifference.

  Charlie tore her gaze away from Mason’s and cleared her throat. “We’re not sure what Faction Five’s motives are at this point. We have to assume that if its leaders hold positions of authority, they’re offering their members a certain level of autonomy. If that’s the case, Faction Five could potentially become one of the most dangerous—not to mention lucrative—crime syndicates in the nation, if not the world.”

  “Does anyone know how Eagan got involved with them?” Charlie glanced over at Gene Fry from Customs and Border Protection. From what she’d been told, Fry had been Mason Decker’s supervisor before he left CBP a few months ago. “As far as any of us knows, Eagan is a lone wolf and doesn’t do business with syndicates. Otherwise he’d have to share the glory,” Fry said.

  Another round of chuckles followed Gene’s comment. The only person in the room who didn’t seem amused was Mason. Interesting. “We think we know how,” Charlie replied. “But we’re more interested in the possible intel he might be able to provide us with. The FBI, DHS, and CIA have all been investigating Faction Five. Eagan is a relatively new player. He’s only recently become involved with them and is quickly raising capital with the sale of blood diamonds. Our goal is to use Eagan to infiltrate Faction Five, or at the very least learn more about the founding and controlling members of the group. If we can get close enough to Eagan, we’re confident we can take Faction Five down in the process.”

  Across the room, Mason let out a soft snort. The indignation Charlie had tried to squash made an unwelcome reappearance. She turned her attention to him. “Is there something you’d like to add, Mr. Decker?”

  “If your informant about Faction Five is right, then Kieran already knows you’re watching him.” Mason’s deep voice commanded the room. Embarrassment heated Charlie’s cheeks and a lump of annoyance rose in her throat. “His guard is already up. No way is he going to serve up Faction Five to you on a silver platter.”

  Charlie pinned him with an intimidating stare of her own. “No one but the people in this room knows about this task force.” Well, aside from her dad and Lacey, but Charlie knew they’d take her secrets to the grave. She’d made sure to keep the investigation into Faction Five’s existence as quiet as possible. “What makes you think he knows we’re watching him?”

  Mason hiked a shoulder. “Because he’s not stupid.”

  Charlie gaped. This was the guy who was going to gain Eagan’s trust? Mason Decker was a piece of work. “And you think that the combined agencies in this room are?”

  His jaw squared. “I’m not saying that.”

  Really? It sure as hell sounded that way. “All right. Then why don’t you tell us what you know about Eagan that the rest of the people in this room—people who’ve spent months investigating him—don’t know.”

  She waited for a smart-assed response that never came. Instead, Mason clamped his jaw down and once again leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his wide chest.

  “We can all agree that with so many agencies working together, tensions among the group are going to be high until we manage to take Faction Five down,” Chief Deputy Carrera interjected. “I think I can speak for Mason and CBP when I say that no one knows more about Kieran Eagan than Mason does. Despite what anyone might think to the contrary, he’s going to be an asset to this team. We’re all working toward the same goals here.”

  From the corner of her eye, Charlie noticed Mason hold Carrera’s gaze. He cocked a challenging brow, and Charlie wondered what the silent exchange might have meant. At any rate, the briefing had gone off the rails pretty damned fast. Exactly what she’d been trying to avoid. She needed to get them all back on track. She had to put Decker’s cocky attitude to the back of her mind and think about the big picture. Charlie needed a win.

  “You’re right, Carlos. We’re all on the same team here.” Charlie refused to let Decker’s pessimism rain on her parade. “What’s important moving forward is that we’re able to use Eagan as an asset to build a solid case against Faction Five. We can thank the U.S. Marshals Service and Mr. Decker for that.”

  No one acknowledged her, but Charlie didn’t expect it. It was tough enough to get so many agencies to play nice and cooperate. It was her job to make sure that everyone got along and stayed on task. The rest of the briefing went smoothly, with Charlie pretty much glossing over everything that most of the people in the room already knew. By the time she’d concluded, her confidence was back in full force. That is, until the room began to empty and the only two people remaining were Mason Decker and Carrera. This was the part of the briefing she’d been dreading. One-on-one time with the arrogant, know-it-all former Customs agent was bound to siphon all of that newfound confidence right out of her.

  “All right, guys,” Charlie said when the last body filed out of the conference room. “Let’s get down to brass tacks.”

  Chapter Three

  Assistant U.S. Attorney Charlotte Cahill had one hell of a chip on her shoulder. Her deep blue eyes narrowed as her gaze locked on Mason. He had a feeling that she was the sort of person who hated to have her authority challenged. And he’d called her out in front of the heads of almost every federal law enforcement agency in the region.

  So far, this gig was off to a stellar start.

  She settled down onto her chair and studied Mason for a quiet—and not a little unnerving—moment. Her full lips pursed as she watched him and Mason was willing to bet that hardened criminals withered under that scrutinizing stare. She was trying to get under his skin. Assert her dominance and let him know exactly who was in charge. It didn’t faze Mason one bit. She could think she was in charge, but the fact of the matter was, the second he made contact with Kieran, Mason would be running the show.

  Of course, his own domineering attitude—not to mention his own deep-seated disregard for authority—had probably only added to the reasons the USMS continued to reject his applications to join their ranks. Now, his only option was to buy his way in by doing something he’d vowed he’d never do. And he’d be answering to the woman who stared at him as though she could see right into his soul and found it somehow tainted. Join the club, lady.

  “I don’t usually have these sorts of meetings without everyone on the team present,” she said in a crisp, matter-of-fact way. Mason pegged her as a control freak. No doubt going off script was sending her OCD into a tailspin. “So what did you want to discuss, Carlos?”

  “I thought it would be a good idea for you to get a little background on Mason beforehand, Charlie.” Carrera rested his hip on the edge of the conference table as he turned toward Charlie. Mason loved being talked about like he wasn’t there. This was bound to be the cherry on top of a perfect day. “We won’t gain Eagan’s trust without him.”

  Charlie focused her attention on Carrera. “Why do I feel like I’m about t
o be managed?”

  “Because you are,” Mason interjected.

  Carrera cut him a look and let out a long-suffering sigh. The chief deputy might have wanted to sugarcoat it for Charlie, but Mason didn’t like to play games. Might as well get all of his shit out in the open now.

  Charlie’s eyes narrowed. “What’s this about?”

  “There are a few things about Mason that you need to know before we launch this operation.” Carrera gave Mason a sidelong glance. “First off, he’s no longer with CBP and he’s not technically employed by the USMS, either.”

  “So …” Charlie turned toward Mason, her brow raised in question. “What agency, technically, do you currently work for?”

  “None,” Mason said flatly. “Before Carrera called, I was technically unemployed.”

  Her eyes went wide and Charlie leaned forward in her chair as she fixed that withering stare on Carrera once again. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “I gave my notice to CBP a month ago. My last day was about two weeks ago.” Mason settled back into his chair. “And every single one of my applications to the Marshals Service has been rejected.” He probably didn’t need to fill her in on that last part, but for some reason, it gave Mason a perverse sense of satisfaction to see her feathers ruffled.

  “You want to explain this, Carlos?” Charlie’s head looked like it was about to explode off her shoulders. “You know how important this operation is. We can’t move forward if any of the members of this team are anything less than fully vetted and capable.”

  “Mason’s capable,” Carrera assured her. “He’s the most capable man for the job.”

  “And I’m supposed to believe that because … ?”

  “Because my dad taught Kieran Eagan everything he knows,” Mason said.

  He almost wished he could drop the bomb again, just to see the expression on Charlotte Cahill’s high-and-mighty face. Her jaw hung on its hinges for the barest moment before she regained her composure. “What?” Her bemused expression transformed to one of realization. “Your father is Jensen Decker?”

  Mason fought the urge to cringe at the mention of his father’s name. There wasn’t a law enforcement agency in the world that didn’t know of the infamous smuggler and forger. It was Mason’s misfortune that he’d been born Jensen Decker’s son, and it was his father’s misfortune that his son had decided to spend his life upholding the laws that Jensen insisted on breaking.

  “Where is dear old dad, now?” Mason asked with not a little sarcasm. “Victorville? Lompoc? I sort of lost track after they transferred him to San Diego a few years ago.”

  “Jesus.” The word left Charlie’s lips on an emphatic breath. She looked at Carrera, her eyes still a little wide. “Seriously?”

  Carrera met her gaze and offered up a shrug. “Why do you think he was so successful with CBP?”

  “How?” Charlie’s eyes slid to Mason once again. It rankled that she insisted on continuing to talk around him rather than to him. “He worked undercover, didn’t he? How could he possibly maintain a cover with such an illustrious father? Every smuggler and forger in the world must know who he is.”

  Mason folded his arms across his chest as he studied the assistant U.S. attorney. She was heading up a task force whose main directive was to make arrests with the aid of undercover intel and she acted as though she had no idea what undercover even meant.

  He decided to hit her with a dose of her own medicine and said to Carrera, “Is she for real?”

  A smile threatened to surface at her expression, half-flustered, half-enraged. Mason swallowed the urge down and kept his own face passive.

  “Charlie’s one of the best prosecutors in the state.” Carrera’s brow puckered and the older man scrubbed a hand over his face. “Why do I suddenly feel like a referee—or worse, a teacher breaking up a fight between a couple of teenagers? We’re all professionals here, right?”

  “At least two of us are,” Charlie groused.

  Jesus. Why was he even still sitting here? Carrera was all but blackmailing him to use Kieran to bring Faction Five down. He wasn’t out anything save a job if he got up and walked the fuck out of here. Mason wanted to get back into undercover work about as much as he wanted to take a bullet to the head. Throw Kieran into the mix and Mason really would rather be six feet under. All of this was an utter waste of his time.

  Mason pushed out his chair and Carrera held up a staying hand. “Hang on a second, Mason.” He leaned toward Charlie, his dark brows drawn over his eyes. “If you want a win, Charlie, we need Mason to get it. No one knows more about Eagan than Mason does.”

  Charlie pursed her lips. Mason was beginning to think she did it only when in deep contemplation. He bet he could create one hell of a drinking game if he watched her in court. “If Eagan is that close to Jensen Decker, then Mason’s cover is already blown. He’s useless.”

  Useless? Mason was tired of being jerked around. He stood and strode to the door, ready to slam the damn thing behind him.

  “That’s the point, Charlie,” Carrera said. “We want Eagan to assume that Mason has flipped.”

  Mason paused at the door and turned around. Charlie’s lips further puckered, as though she’d just sucked on a particularly sour lemon. It made her look too young. Almost cute, in a petulant sort of way. He paused at the door and watched as her expression changed. Softened. She brushed her fingers through the length of her strawberry-blond hair, and Mason counted at least five variations of color that played off of the light. Pretty.

  Too bad she was a total control freak.

  “Do you think Eagan will buy it?”

  Carrera smiled as though sure he’d won her over. “Either way, I don’t think he’ll be able to resist.”

  It was certainly nice to see Carrera could be so cavalier with someone else’s life. Mason swallowed down a snort. He was right, though. Kieran’s curiosity would get the best of him. He’d let Mason into the operation to satisfy that curiosity.

  “Are you up for this?”

  Mason’s gaze met Charlie’s. He was surprised she deigned him worthy to address without the aid of a middleman. And even though he considered her a raging pain in the ass, he understood where she was coming from. The buck stopped at her desk. If shit went south, she’d be the one to pay the price. Mason got that. Hell, he’d lived through it.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I am.”

  Was he, though? Mason wished he was as sure as he sounded.

  *

  Charlie didn’t want to admit it, but they might’ve struck gold with Mason. Never in a million years would she have guessed the former Customs agent was the son of an infamous criminal. Jensen Decker’s reputation was far-reaching. Hell, she’d studied two of his trials while in law school. He was the sort of criminal that Hollywood producers made movies about. Counterfeiter, master forger, smuggler—the ultimate con man. Not to mention good-looking and charming to a fault. He’d managed to avoid prosecution and evade capture for years before the Marshals Service had arrested him in 1999. Which would have made Mason about sixteen or seventeen years old at the time. What on earth had prompted him to leave the trail his dad had forged, to strike out on his own? A twinge of jealousy tugged at Charlie’s chest. She’d barely veered off her own father’s path. More to the point, she’d walked safely beside it.

  The unwavering confidence in Mason’s tone was the boost that Charlie needed to see this through. It was a dangerous game they were about to play. One that could easily cost Mason his future in law enforcement, if not his life, if Eagan found out what they were up to. Hell, maybe he already knew. A wave of anxiety crested and Charlie forced the worry away.

  “You said Eagan probably already knows we’re watching him. Aren’t you worried that he’ll assume you’re working for someone from the get-go?”

  Mason hiked an unconcerned shoulder. How was it possible for someone to look so nonchalant and so menacing at the same time?

  “I’m going to let him assume that I�
��m working with the government,” Mason said. “There’s no reason for him to think I’ve left CBP, and I’ll let him think that I can help him get his product through customs without detection.”

  Charlie rolled her bottom lip between her teeth. “A double agent?” It was risky, but the payout could be huge if Eagan took the bait.

  A half smile tugged at one corner of Mason’s lips. “Exactly.”

  This operation was becoming more complicated by the second. “That wasn’t the plan the task force had in place for an undercover marshal,” Charlie replied.

  “Technically,” Mason stressed yet again. “I’m only a temporary marshal. And I’m changing the plan.”

  Heat rose to Charlie’s cheeks. It didn’t matter that his plan was sound. Mason Decker thought he could change the rules whenever and however he damn well pleased, and it pissed her off. Charlie lived her life by rules. Hell, her entire existence was about order. The anxiety of butting heads with Mason might kill her long before she ever got the chance to see any of Faction Five’s members stand before a judge.

  “You’re not in charge.” The hot retort escaped unchecked from Charlie’s lips. She wanted to tell Mason Decker that he was a coarse, rude, selfish, arrogant pain in her ass, and if she had it her way, she’d deposit him right back on the street that Carrera scooped him up from. Her pride stemmed the flow, though. Her burning need to win at all costs cut off the words before they escaped.

  “No,” Mason agreed darkly. His nearly black brows cut severe slashes above his brilliant green eyes. “I’m sure as hell not. But no one knows Kieran better than I do.”

  Charlie sensed there was more to Eagan’s relationship with Mason than simply being Jensen Decker’s apprentice. Until she could do a little digging, she decided not to press Mason on the issue. “All right. I’m sure Carrera told you you’d be working with a partner on this one—”