Operation: Marauder

Zoey glanced at her watch again, fingers drumming on the pink laminate table of their go-to diner. Jack was supposed to meet with her half-an-hour ago. Usually, if he had to bail on her, he called, but today there had been no such phone call, so she assumed that he would show up. . . eventually.

Things had been really good this week. They had their movie night on Friday, caught up all day Saturday--then he left suddenly that night and she hadn't heard from him since. Until last night. He called, apologizing that he hadn't been in touch and he wanted to see her before she headed into work today.

Well, she technically started in twenty minutes. Carlisle knew she was having breakfast with Jack, so he wouldn't mind if she was late as long as she came in to work on Rowan's SUV. At this rate, though, Zoey was all set to order and eat in her office.

Lidiya stopped by with her pen and pad, ready to take her order. The woman had been working in the diner longer than Zoey had been alive and loved her job, but Zoey still felt bad that she had to wear the most hideous, outdated yellow dress to work every day. She'd shoot herself if she had to wear anything that didn't have steel, jeans, or leather to work.

"The usual, Lid," Zoey ordered, doing her best to not show her agitation. It wasn't Lidiya's fault her brother was always late. "Extra bacon."

She glanced at the empty seat, guessing the source of her agitation. "Jack not coming?"

"Doesn't appear so."

The bell at the diner door went off. Jack came flying through and dove into the booth seat opposite Zoey, gasping for breath. "I'm so, so sorry I'm late, but you'll never believe where I've been."

"What do you want, Jack?" Lidiya asked, clearly taking Zoey's side on punctuality.

He didn't pick up on her tone and smiled sweetly at her. "French toast. Extra bacon. Please."

She turned wordlessly for the kitchen.

He rolled a pair of blue eyes to the ceiling and back. "Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning."

"No, she's had to deal with me for the past hour. You're late, Jack." She loved her brother to the moon and back, but he had certainly developed some of the most annoying traits from their dad. Punctuality being one of them. Choosing the job over her was another.

He slumped. "I know. I know."

"So, where have you been?" she demanded, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Oh, um. . ." He scratched the back of his head, eyes taking a keen interest in a stain on the ceiling. "I can't tell you. Classified."

Classified. Classic Jack.

"I hope it was worth it."

He leaned forward, hands on the table, eyes wide in his excitement. "It absolutely was. Trust me, if you knew you wouldn't be so mad. I wish I could tell you, Zoe, I really do."

"I don't want to talk about it anymore." This was not how she wanted to start her morning and if she wasn't careful, this mood would transgress through the rest of the day and she didn't want that. She needed to have a clear mind when she was working on Rowan's vehicle. She was going to start building the part in the blueprints he had given her. She'd never seen anything like it and had absolutely no idea what it did or why he wanted such a strange device in his SUV, but hey, he was paying for it, all she had to do was build it.

Jack ruffled his fluffy black hair, thinking of ways to move things forward. "Okay. Um, how have things been going? You said you got a new client?"

She much prefered this topic, and grinned at him. "Yeah, he wants me to beef up his Land Rover. It'll be a fun project."

Jack's interest was peaked; he sat at the end of his seat, nothing but excitement for her in his eyes. "Is it someone from the base?"

"Yeah. Why?"

He beamed proudly. "I tell everyone on the base to go to Carlisle's shop, and if they want work done to go to you. I've shown them pictures of all the cool stuff you've done. You're quite the hit at work."

She couldn't stop the smile tugging on her lips. Jack had a way of making her feel like she wasn't the disappointment her father had made her out to be. She was supposed to join the air force and go to school to become a mechanical engineer, so she could work on the jets. She didn't join the force and she flunked out of school after two years. Needless to say, she hadn't spoken to her father in years.

"Seriously! Some of your designs are killer," Jack went on, never more proud of his little sister. "You know, I could probably pull some strings, get you a job on the base."

"No," she shut that down before he could even entertain the idea. "I am not joining the army. I'm happy where I am, Jack. I have regular hours, get to pick my clients, and can fly during my spare time. It's more freedom than what the army can do for me."

He looked like he wanted to argue, but Lidiya came by with their food and suddenly the only thing that mattered was stuffing his face as quickly as possible.

After breakfast, she kissed his cheek then walked to work. She was lucky enough to live near the heart of the city and didn't have to walk far for anything, work included. Unfortunately, it meant less drive time in her Honda Civic, but the airport was basically in the middle of nowhere. The smooth, long stretch to get there totally made up for her lack of driving everywhere else.

As soon as she set foot in the garage, she knew something was up. It was suspiciously quiet. Jeanene wasn't behind the reception desk; she at least heard the guys working in the back.

Carlisle was waiting for her in her office, a concerned furrow working his brow. He hastily closed the door behind her and shut the blinds, a gleam of sweat shining on top of his head.

Finding this very unusual, Zoey set her leftovers in her minifridge and sat on the desk beside him. "Everything okay, Carlisle?"

He watched her for a moment, and Zoey swore she saw fear in the man's eyes. Fear. In the man whose tattoos had tattoos and who often told stories of his less reputable life before he met his wife. "Is there anything going on I should know about?"

Ummmm. She had missed something. "What? No. What's going on?"

His eyes darted to the door nervously. He licked his lips. "Some men came in here looking for you. Said they just wanted to talk, but they. . . there's something off about them, Zoey. They're not good men. What have you done?"

"Nothing! I swear." She really couldn't think of anything she had done to piss someone off. Unless. . . "Do you think Dean sent them?"

Dean had been a client who just wanted a better stereo system, but he was cute and charming. Zoey had been stupid. He didn't have a job and she was caught up in the throes of a new, exciting relationship, so when he mentioned he did detailing work, she thought he would be a perfect fit for their team. What he had failed to mention was that the detailing work he did was making secret caches to store drugs and money for a local gang. When she broke up with him for cheating on her, he had threatened to send a few friends to send her to the bottom of Lake Nash. It had been a year, but she wouldn't put it past Dean to send someone out of the blue to "take care" of her.

Carlisle's face twisted up, the fear quickly replaced by rage. "If that cowardly son of a bitch thinks he can send a bunch of thugs to scare you, I'll find him and put him in a body bag."

"Okay, let's not do that." Zoey pushed on his shoulder, setting him down in the chair again. She didn't want to tell him that he was a little too old to be putting people in body bags, and instead went with the comforting approach, patting his back. "I'll be fine. Let me call Jack. He'll know what to do." If in doubt, he had a bunch of big ass guys that would make Dean think twice about going after her. Hopefully.

She pulled out her phone and tapped on his contact picture. It went straight to voicemail. Frowning, she tried it one more time then gave up, tossing the phone irately back in her purse.

"Whatever. His phone's off." It wasn't unusual, he often had it off when he was in a meeting--or overseas. It wouldn't surprise her if he had to go on a mission and forgot to let her know he'd be gone for a few weeks.

Carlisle watched her as she paced, chewing her thumbnail. "Zoey?"

"What?" she snapped, then immediately regretted it and collapsed in a chair with a big sigh. "I'm fine. I mean, I will be. I can deal with Dean and a few thugs." It wasn't like she needed her big army brother to protect her; he taught her how to defend herself on the streets, when to fight, when to run. It would be nice if he would pick up the fucking phone, though.

"I'll call the police," Carlisle offered, seeing Zoey wasn't as fine as she wanted to be.

"Did they actually threaten you?" she asked a little more tersely than she meant to. Get your shit together, woman. You've dealt with stuff like this before.

Okay, maybe having to scare off a crazy, jealous ex-girlfriend with a baseball bat was a little different. Still, that chick never showed herself again. And neither did her boyfriend. Apparently having the right to defend oneself was also batshit crazy. He was an asshole anyway, definitely not worth dealing with his crazy exes.

"No," Carlisle mumbled.

She let out an exasperated breath. "Then they can't do anything. They need proof I'm actually in danger."

"You can sleep on my couch," he suggested.

It warmed Zoey to no end that Carlisle generously offered his couch to her, but she declined. For all they knew, Dean had sent his goons, done their little scare--which admittedly worked--now they were probably heading back home, laughing.

"Do you want the day off?" he offered, concern deep in his features when he regarded her.

"No. I'll be in my garage if you need me." She grabbed the blueprints for her design and marched across the lot for her garage. As soon as she could, she connected her phone to the Milwaukee Bluetooth speaker and cranked up some Halestorm.

She got lost in her designs, tinkering away at her desk. The device in the blueprint was next level complex and required every ounce of concentration she possessed. She hadn't worked from scratch on something like this in forever and it felt good to sink deep and get personal with the tools around her.

It was like building a Lego house. Well, maybe more like a Lego Death Star. She started with all the materials she had acquired over the past few days lain over the table, spread out evenly so she could see every miniscule piece. Piece by piece, she soldered, screwed, and hammered everything into place until it grew too big to hold in her hands. She set up a spot in the corner of her garage, bracing it in the air with an engine hoist.

She took a step back to admire her work so far. It looked like something out of a sci-fi movie, like an engine from a Pod Racer, except this one emitted a strange energy when she turned it on for the first time.

It was like a pulse. It shot outward, knocking her off her feet, jostling the Rover, and shaking the whole garage. The lights flickered for a moment then the power went out.

"Well, shit."

No sooner had she spoken the words, Carlisle and Ross came barreling through the door, frantically scanning the garage. Ross saw her on the floor and immediately ran to help her stand, while Carlisle glared at the foreign piece of machinery hanging on the hoist.

"What the fuck are you making?"

Ross tossed him a small glare then flicked a tiny loose screw off her shoulder. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she muttered, rubbing her rear. She could have done without being shoved down onto the concrete floor. "And I have no idea what I'm making. It's a part of the schematics Rowan gave me. I didn't know it would blow up."

It hadn't exactly blown up. In fact, it was entirely intact and still thrummed like a Tesla, almost as if it was designed to force everything back like it had. Very strange.

"You blew the breaker," Carlisle complained in a huff. Arms crossed, he scanned the garage, looking for any sign of damage in the infrastructure.

"I'll fix it. Don't worry about it." It was the least she could do for the trouble she'd caused.

Ross tapped her foot, casting his disappointed glower on her now. "Don't you think you might owe Carlisle an apology? It's all well and good that you'll fix the breaker, but you still broke it and disrupted everyone's work."

She crossed her arms, blowing a loose strand of hair out of her face. "Fine. I'm sorry I broke your stuff. I'll go fix it."

Carlisle raised a hand to stop her. "Don't bother, I'll take care of it. Why don't you head home a little early? You haven't taken any breaks today." His anger was brief, now he was only concerned for her. She had a feeling after the scare this morning, he was keeping an extra close eye on her.

She glanced out the window to see the sun was nearly down. She hadn't realised she had been going nonstop. Now that he mentioned it, she was hungry.

She relented with a nod. "All right. Let me tidy up then I'll head out."

Carlisle and Ross left her to clean up. Almost numbly she went around the garage picking up everything that had been knocked over. When she was done, she walked over to the device she had created and stared at it. She hadn't a clue what she had built or why Rowan wanted it in his Rover, but it was definitely the coolest fucking thing she had ever made and she couldn't wait to ask Rowan what it was.