by Trish Loye
“Talk to me, Dante. What’s happening inside?”
“Lexi tapped into their security cameras. Sutton’s coming down the north side stairwell. A gunman isn’t far behind her.”
Ryan slowed and eyed the lobby in front of him. Sutton wouldn’t lead a gunman into a crowd. She was used to dealing with things on her own. His gaze narrowed and he reevaluated his options and had a plan within seconds. He started running again.
Hold on, Sunshine. I’m coming.
Sutton swore as the black sedan skidded and stopped at the end of the alley that led to the main street. Whoever was inside had a clear shot of her and blocked her escape route. A chain link fence closed off the other end. If she tried to climb it, the gunman would shoot her before she could make it to the top. Her stomach plummeted. Her options sucked. She had no weapon and no backup. She wasn’t sure she was going to walk away from this. A random thought speared her hard.
She should have kissed Ryan.
No. She wouldn’t let this be over. She wouldn’t give up. She wouldn’t give in to could-haves and should-haves. It was time to act. She’d kiss Ryan later, she promised herself.
She panted, body aching, muscles twitching, fear spiking. Hesitation killed. That had been drilled into her by every instructor she’d ever had. She took off running toward the fence. Even a bad decision was better than no decision.
She pushed herself hard, knowing the killer would be coming out at any second. A car door opened behind her. Her back muscles tensed.
“Sutton!”
Ryan’s voice. She threw her arms out for balance as she stopped, spun, and raced back toward the sedan. Ryan waved at her from the driver’s seat.
The laundry room door opened. And she knew. She wasn’t going to make it. Ryan’s car was too far and the gunman too close.
Ryan’s eyes narrowed and he pointed a gun at her. He tilted his head to the right. She veered in that direction, sprinting hard along the hotel’s wall. Gunfire rang out.
A bullet bit into the brick beside her, spitting off a chunk of concrete. The killer was shooting at her. She crouched, but kept running. Twenty yards. Her arm covered her head. Ryan was firing at the other man from inside the car. Bullet holes appeared in the metal door. Ryan didn’t flinch, just kept shooting.
Almost there.
Ryan pushed the door wider.
She dove inside, keeping below his gun hand, curling up on the front seat. The car lurched forward as Ryan stomped on the accelerator. The passenger door swung shut with the momentum. Ryan drove one-handed, his expression that of a hardened operator.
“How’d you find me?” She sounded breathless and cleared her throat. “How did you know I needed you?”
Ryan spared her a glance. “I know you, Sutton.” He looked back at the road as he swerved between cars, getting as much distance between them and the hotel as possible.
Those words shocked her into stillness. Those words said more about their relationship than anything else. Those words squeezed her heart and wrung it dry.
“You know me,” she whispered.
He didn’t take his eyes off the road this time, too focused on getting them away. “I got the call about shots fired. Lexi hacked the security cameras so I knew where you were. I knew you’d come out that entrance rather than the main lobby. We worked ops together for five years. I know how you think in a crisis.”
She deflated and sunk back against the seat. Of course. Of course that was why he’d known to be there. It was logical and the type of critical thinking all spec operators did. It wasn’t some fairy-tale reasoning that he knew her better than anyone else on this planet.
“Thanks.” She forced a smile. “Your timing was great.” She was proud of how even and light her voice was. There was no betraying any of the feelings churning inside her, feelings she didn’t even pretend to understand.
But there was no time to contemplate them.
“Get rid of all electronics,” Ryan said. “They’re tracking us somehow and until we know how, we’ve got to go dark.”
“Copy that.” She dug her burner phone out of her pack and chucked it out the window. Ryan pulled his latest phone out of his jacket pocket and did the same.
“Laptop?” he asked.
“It’s powered down and in the pack. But it’s my personal one. There shouldn’t be any tracking programs on it. I sweep it regularly.”
“Tell me what happened.”
Her face burned a little when she told him of her rookie mistake in opening the door and the subsequent fight. “He swore in Russian. Dark hair and eyes. Early thirties. Five foot ten. He had a tattoo of a wolf on his neck.”
“We’ll get his description to Lexi and Mack and see if they can track him down.” He glanced at her. “Okay. You’re the spook. What’s our next move?”
“Get a new car. One without GPS. And then we hunker down to plan our next step.”
“Hunker down? Is that a spook term?”
“An official one, of course.”
He gave a quicksilver smile. “Of course.”
“Let’s go steal a car and a credit card.”
Twenty minutes later, after having relieved a tourist of their fanny pack and borrowed a beige Honda Civic, they drove into the parking lot of a hotel. It looked clean, but not fancy. Something a young family might stay at during their trip to DC.
Sutton used the tourist’s credit card to book a room. By the time the cops caught on to the credit trail, they’d be gone. She and Ryan went to their room on the second floor. Two queen beds, a TV with a small desk underneath it.
“Just the essentials,” she muttered.
“Hey,” Ryan said with an easy smile. “At least we have beds.”
“Good point.” There had been too many ops where she’d been outside on the cold ground, or getting eaten by bugs. Beds and a roof were a luxury. She sat on one and exhaustion filled her.
“Why don’t you take a nap while I go find a phone to call in to my team?”
She shook her head. “We need to stay off their grid completely. Someone is tracing all of their communications. Anytime we contact them, we risk exposing ourselves.”
“So what’s our next step? Without access to my team, we’re flying blind.”
“We need information.”
He crossed his arms and arched an eyebrow. “And how do you propose we get that if we’re radio silent?”
She smiled. “I have a plan.”
“It’s never good when you smile like that.”
She stood and walked to the bathroom.
“Aren’t you going to tell me the plan?” he asked.
“We’re off the grid. I need a shower and then sleep. I’ll tell you my plan later.”
He huffed a breath. “When later?”
She couldn’t stop the Cheshire cat grin that crawled onto her face. “After we go shopping.”
He held his hands up in surrender. “Now I really don’t like your smile.”
She laughed, grabbed her pack and went into the bathroom.
Ryan barely held himself back from following Sutton into the bathroom. They’d always used to shower together after ops, even when they were both bone-tired and could only fall into bed afterward. It had been nice to touch her and soap her back. For him, it had reaffirmed their connection, especially after an op where they had to be almost standoffish to protect their professionalism.
He wanted to wash her back again.
He ran a hand through his hair and made himself turn away. She’d made her feelings clear on the subject. They weren’t together and she had no interest in him any longer. He went to the window and checked the parking lot outside. He was a professional.
His hands clenched into tight fists.
He was a professional.
By the time Sutton was done with her shower and came out dressed but with wet hair, he had himself under control.
“So,” he said. “Are you going to tell me the plan?”
She nodded. �
�We need information and I know where we can get it. But first we need makeovers.”
Oh man, he wasn’t sure he liked the sound of this, or her grin. “Makeovers?”
“Yes. Spook style.”
He snorted. “This should be good.”
“First, I’m going to need supplies. So we need to go shopping.”
Shopping? Was the woman crazy? “You do know that you have every agency in DC looking for you right now?”
“Don’t worry. They don’t have a way to track us and they haven’t put our pictures out to the general public. We avoid security cameras and get in and out quick.”
“Out of where?”
“The mall, of course.”
Right. Of course. He sat on the bed. “Did you hit your head when you were fighting that guy?”
“I need to change my appearance or this won’t work.”
He had to unclench his jaw. “What won’t work?”
“We’re going to break into a covert CIA building downtown and get the information we need.”
She must have hit her head. “Why don’t we just let my team get the information? They’re all highly trained and...they don’t have to break in anywhere to get it.”
She put her hair into a ponytail and dug a ball cap out of her pack. “Someone on your team is a traitor.” She held up her hand to stop his argument. “That or someone is tracking everything your team does. Either way, we have to investigate this thing for ourselves or we’ll be the ones in prison because we let someone frame us.”
He chuckled. “You always did have more balls than most of my men. Tell me the plan, and I mean all the details, and then we’ll see.”
She smiled triumphantly and he almost groaned at the sight. God, she had him wrapped around her finger. He mentally shrugged. It didn’t mean she wasn’t right. And the fact of the matter was that he trusted her; whether or not she wanted a relationship with him, he trusted her as an operator. He listened intently to what she wanted to do. He offered some adjustments, but overall it was crazy enough that it might just work.
He stood. “Let’s go shopping.”
An hour later, he still trusted her, but he’d never been so glad to see their cheap hotel. During their excursion, they’d both worn ball caps and sunglasses. But it still hadn’t felt safe.
They entered with their bags and she once again absconded into the bathroom. He chucked their assorted parcels onto the desk and stretched out on the bed closest to the door. He didn’t sleep, though. Not yet. He mentally reviewed their plan, looking for any detail they’d missed. Things would probably go to hell tomorrow, but he’d been in worse situations.
Sutton came out of the bathroom with a plastic bag wrapped around her head. “Your turn,” she said. “Do you need help?”
He got up and grabbed what he needed. “I’ve got this, Sunshine.”
A few minutes later, he came out of the bathroom minus the slightly long business-acceptable hair he’d been sporting for consulting. He’d used a razor to shave it right down to the scalp and then detailed a goatee on his chin out of the scruff he’d developed over the last two days. It wasn’t much in the way of disguise in his mind but when he stepped out of the bathroom, Sutton froze from where she’d been sorting toiletries she’d bought with the stolen credit card.
He cocked his head and surveyed her. A faint blush touched her cheeks and her hand raised as if to touch the plastic bag on her head before she brought it down and straightened.
“Perfect,” she said in a crisp voice as she looked him over. “You’ll do just fine.”
And if it hadn’t been for the blush that still warmed her face, he would have thought her unaffected by his appearance. But that blush...
He moved closer to her and she held her ground, but he saw her fingers tighten on the package she held. She definitely wasn’t as immune to him as she wanted him to believe.
Not that he could or would do anything about it. He stepped back. “The bathroom’s all yours.”
He almost laughed to see her release the breath she’d been holding. But now wasn’t the time to pursue their mutual attraction, no matter how much he might want to. She’d already warned him off; he wouldn’t cross that line again.
“Why don’t you power down?” she said. “I’ll take the first watch.”
No need to tell him twice. He laid on the bed closest to the door but kept his boots on, his hand on his weapon, and closed his eyes for a combat nap. He needed to be sharp for the next morning. Sutton went back into the bathroom, probably to wash the dye out of her hair.
Sometime later, the barest whisper of sound made his eyes open. Sutton sat in the chair by the window, peeking out into the parking lot. Long dark hair shielded her face from him. She wore only a T-shirt. Her slender legs shone pale in the streetlights filtering in through the blinds.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
She looked at him. The dark hair framed her face, making her eyes appear bigger, even in the dim light of the room.
“No movement outside.” She yawned.
He got up. “Time to switch.” He nodded at the bed.
“I’m okay.” She checked outside one more time.
He crossed his arms. “Don’t pull that shit with me.”
She didn’t say anything but nodded and crawled into the bed he’d just left. Something in him eased that she felt safe enough with him to get beneath the covers. Within seconds, her breathing evened out and she slept. He sat in the chair she’d just left. The warmth of her body still lingered and he couldn’t help but press back into it.
13
The next morning, Sutton parked their stolen car in a spot where it was easy to pull back into traffic. Ryan wore a ball cap and gray overalls. His goatee had filled in a little. Where Ryan looked like an ex-con who worked at a warehouse, she looked like a dowdy librarian. She’d used makeup to highlight different parts of her face, subtly changing it and to give her skin a slightly sallow look.
Ryan checked her over one last time. “Did they teach you makeup skills in spook school?”
She touched her long now-dark hair woven into a loose bun at the base of her neck. “And hairdressing.”
“Have I told you how much I like the librarian look?”
She arched a brow, knowing he was just defusing the pre-op tension with banter, especially considering she’d dressed to be drab and invisible. But she played along. “Seriously?”
“I actually like any look on you.” His lips pressed together, as if he’d said something he’d wished he hadn’t.
But the words warmed her and distracted her. “Well, no one is supposed to look twice at me. Including you.” She turned serious. “You’re good to go?”
He nodded. “See you soon.”
“Be ready.”
He grabbed the backpack from near his feet, got out of the car and looked back at her, a twinkle in his eye. “Do I need to say it?”
It made her laugh and loosened a few more nerves. “Let me guess. You were born ready?”
“You know it.” He strode down the block toward a six-story, mirror-windowed building. A sign above the glass doors read, Ronan Industries. At the corner, Ryan turned and walked toward the back of the building.
Her turn.
She got out of the car. The black skirt she wore went to her knees and had a small slit in the side, not enough to show leg, but enough so she wouldn’t be hobbling around like a lame horse. She buttoned the matching jacket. She’d gotten everything just a bit big and she wore flats. In the light of day, her hair was a wonderful shade of mouse-fur brown. That combined with the glasses perched on her nose all gave off an air of studious, reserved analyst, with nothing sexy about her. She needed to blend in, and to be passed over. She didn’t want anyone to look twice at her.
She crossed the street and aimed for the busy coffee shop across from Ronan Industries. She followed two men in suits as they walked inside. Neither held the door for her nor even glanced back at her as they dis
cussed some game from the night before. She waited in line, discreetly surveying the patrons.
Her gaze landed on a woman at a corner table chatting with friends. They all wore suits, had large purses slung over the backs of their chairs and all had ID badges hanging around their necks. Her mark had brown hair done in chestnut waves that cascaded over her shoulders like some supermodel; her makeup was flawless and she wore painful-looking stilettos.
Sutton inched forward in line, keeping an eye on the woman. She ordered a black coffee and once she got it, she spent a long time at the counter mixing in cream. She gritted her teeth. Someone was going to notice her soon. She almost reevaluated her plan when the women from the table finally got up together.
Time to move. Sutton pulled a box-cutter from her jacket pocket and palmed it in one hand, blade out. She held her coffee in the other and walked with her head down, straight at the women. They chattered and laughed, sounding like a bunch of budgies fluttering in a cage.
Sutton bumped into her target, spilling coffee on the woman’s expensive suit jacket before dropping the coffee entirely on the floor.
“Omigod!” The woman’s shrill voice made everyone snap their gazes to her.
“Oh! I’m so sorry,” Sutton said in an apologetic voice.
The coffee had splashed up on the woman’s legs. Sutton snagged some napkins from a nearby table. “Please.” She handed them to the woman. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“Obviously.” The woman bent over to wipe coffee off her legs and shoes. Sutton bent with her, using a napkin to cover the box-cutter. The woman’s ID tag dangled from a lanyard around her neck.
“I’m so terribly clumsy sometimes.” Sutton touched the woman’s shoulder gently with one hand and the woman looked up. Perfect.
“Do you know how much this blouse costs?”
She sliced the ID from the lanyard with the box-cutter in her other hand. “Could I pay for the cleaning?”
The woman straightened, still wearing the lanyard, just minus the ID. Her lip curled. “This can’t be cleaned. You’d need to buy a whole new blouse.” She raked Sutton over with her eyes. “And you obviously can’t afford it.” She huffed and dug into her purse; her friends soon clustered around her.
