Virtually Hers by Gennita Low Page A

didn’t necessarily mean the fall of the KGB powers. Through all these years, they’ve continued using their extensive network to collect intelligence for use to shore up their weakening base, waiting for the right time to push back,” Shahrukh said.
    “As shown in the current CIA nightmare,” Sullivan finished up.
    Jed looked from one man to the other. The “twins” made an odd couple, what with Sullivan’s cowboy attitude about everything and Shahrukh’s more introverted personality, but they shared an innate passion for history and old weaponry. Jed had listened to them in deep discussion about the roles of knights and the different weaponry used in ancient war. Every strategy was discussed; every role was replayed. It was interesting to see the two men challenging each other in mental warfare and reenacting battle after battle from one side, then another.
    To Jed, war was war was war. To his two teammates, war was some macho form of arts and crafts. He’d often found himself marveling at how Sullivan could manage to bring in the coaching decisions of a recent football game to argue against one of Shahrukh’s more esoteric theories about a famous ancient battle.
    And if talking strayed into a real difference of opinion, those two had been known to reenact a one-on-one fight right there at the gym. Sullivan always started it, of course. He was competitive like that. Shahrukh, Jed suspected, went along just to amuse himself.
    “So where do you think this is leading?” he asked, ignoring the twinge to look at the entrance expectantly. The others would know soon enough. “Proposals?”
    “We—”
    The buzzing of the exterior door interrupted Sullivan. The commandos turned to look at the monitor above to see who it was. Usually it would be one of their own—T. or Diamond—but they weren’t in the country. Any other personnel, even de Clerq, would announce themselves through the intercom first.
    Jed put down the remote in his hand. He already knew. It was Hell.
    She pushed the interior door open, dark eyes sparkling, lips curled in a temper, all glorious raging Valkyrie.
    “Excuse me, gentlemen,” she paused long enough to announce, then stalked over and swung a fist at Jed.
    He chose not to avoid it, only taking one step back and putting just enough distance to make sure the hit didn’t break his jaw. After what he’d done to her, he owed her.
     
    Helen shook her hand, her shoulder stinging from the direct punch. Ouch. She hadn’t expected him to stay put like that.
    All eyes were on her, of course. Couldn’t be helped. She was that pissed and this couldn’t wait. She looked at the man standing in front of her. Damn him. He wasn’t even rubbing his jaw, even though she’d decked him good. She could see a slight swelling starting up already.
    She looked around again and casually shrugged. They all probably knew why she’d hit Jed McNeil, and if they didn’t, they would guess soon enough. Undoubtedly, they all had the same skills to seduce—she determinedly pushed away those thoughts and pulled out a chair.
    “Sorry, please do continue.” She clenched and unclenched her slightly numbed hand. Damn, that hurt. “Since no one stopped me from entering, I’m assuming that it’s okay to be listening in on you guys.”
    There was a short silence. Then Flyboy spoke up, “We were just wondering where you were.”
    Hell held his blue eyes for a long second. Of all of them, she’d considered him her friend. Now she wasn’t sure any more. How much was his friendliness an act?
    “I was asleep,” she told him grimly.
    She wanted to pound on the table, but it wouldn’t do to let them see her losing it. Not yet. Her main target was him. She returned her gaze to Jed McNeil, who calmly picked up a remote from the table.
    Oh, he had been so damn smart, hiding behind Hades in those dreams. She wasn’t sure yet how he’d managed to do that but she knew it was him. There was no mistaking those light