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“What happened in Colombia?” Anders asks, but my dad frowns.
“It’s classified.”
“But we have level nine clearance,” he argues, and it’s my turn to be surprised. That’s the highest clearance I’ve ever heard of a team having.
“Not high enough,” my dad grumbles, and the team looks at me again. All I can do is shrug, but then I can’t help but pull a few tails.
“Oh, so I guess that makes me the team leader because I have the highest clearance, kills, and amount of skills out of everyone.”
The four of them burst into protests, but my dad just looks at me knowingly, and Uncle T chuckles. It’s going to be so much fun fucking with them. They take things way too seriously.
“Relax, boys, she’s yanking your chain. She also has the least experience working with a team. She has only ever worried about herself before, so making her team leader would be a disaster.” Ouch. Fair assessment, but still… ouch.
It seems to mollify them a little, however, and they settle down.
“Alright, trouble, let’s get you out of here. I have your pain medication” —he taps the pocket of his suit— “and the car’s waiting to take you home.” Damn, I haven’t had a chance to grill them about their own attributes. Dad better rectify that by giving me their unredacted bios.
“When are we going to get a chance to talk about the mission?” Dayton asks my dad.
“You’re not. You’re going to let Kenzie establish her cover while you four do what you need to do. Once there, you can use your best judgment for how you are going to exchange information. I will have the files sent to all of you to get her up to speed. You guys know how you work best, and I am not going to interfere with that, and neither will she. I just want you guys to collaborate, exchange information, and use one another if you need a certain skill. I know that by putting my best on this case, it will be closed in no time.” Oh yeah, Dad is slathering that shit on thick, but I watch with amusement as the guys puff up and quickly agree. The man is a master manipulator, and they didn’t even notice it was happening.
“Come on, sweet niece, your mother is at home waiting to smother you with love and mac and cheese. Shall we go?” Uncle T comes over and helps me swing my legs off the bed, but I can’t stifle the moan of pain quickly enough, and once my legs are no longer covered by the sheets, everyone’s eyes are drawn to the bruises on them.
“Holy shit.” The words slip out of Lathan’s mouth quietly as he grimaces like he’s the one in pain.
“Yeah, at the moment, my body is just one giant bruise,” I tell him, sliding off the bed and into the wheelchair. I don’t even care that I’m naked underneath my hospital gown. There’s no point in trying to put any clothes on. I’m just not capable without any assistance, and the only assistance I want right now is my mother’s. I whimper as Dad helps me lift my feet up on the footrests, and then Uncle T spreads a blanket over my lap.
“Alright, Kenzie love, ready to go?” I look at my dad when Uncle T grabs the handles and starts wheeling me out.
“Aren’t you coming?” I ask my dad, and he shakes his head.
“No, I’ll be along shortly,” he tells me, and I nod.
“Oh, okay.” I look toward the team of men who I will be working with in the near future. All wear various expressions—a sympathetic smile from Lathan, a contemplative look from Dayton, and frowns from the other two. Oh well, one out of four isn’t bad. It could be worse, and they could all hate me.
“I’d like to say it was nice to meet you, but, well, it wasn’t. I’m hoping the next time I see you, maybe you’ll be able to figure out how we can work together without one of you beating the crap out of me, shooting me, or throwing me down a concrete staircase. Hmm, maybe it would just be better if you all stayed away from me and we only communicated via email. Dad, give Lathan my secure email, and he can be my point of contact, because quite frankly, the other guys have done nothing but insult me since they walked into the room.”
The six men explode into a cacophony of noise, but I just hold up my hand. “The four of you took one look at me and judged me on looks alone. Let me remind you that I very nearly evaded you, and I was rattled by the thought that I had just killed my father by accident. Normally I am someone you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy. How about you wipe out everything you know about Princess Kensington Watson and focus on getting this job done, then we can wash our hands of each other and prove to my father that this was a bad fit.”
“Kenzie,” Dad growls, but I shake my head before he can chastise me for my lack of filter.
“No, Dad. I agreed to give it a try, but they already have their doubts, so you’re right. I will do my thing, they will do theirs, and we can exchange information. If any of us need something, then we can ask each other, but we need to work all angles of this, and I can’t if I’m being judged for every move I make.” I turn to Lathan. “Message me in a week. I should have something to share with you by then. I need a few days to recover, and I’ll be good to go.”
“A few days? Try a few weeks,” Bishop mutters, and Uncle T gives him a hard look.
“If Kenz says she will be ready to go, then she will be. You guys worry about yourselves, because if a tiny, hundred and thirty pound girl can almost get the drop on you, then maybe your team needs to look at its own skills.”
With that mic drop, Uncle T rolls me out, leaving the others behind with my dad.
Chapter 6
Uncle T pushes me through the underground facility which, thankfully, is not teeming with people. The elevator that runs through the middle of the facility takes us above ground, and from there, he helps me into a golf cart. We use the paths on the ground to take me to my parents’ place, and I keep my head down on the way.
MITHOS is designed to look like a very exclusive college, and a lot of classes are held in those buildings, but the spy shit is held in the underground facility. Dotted around the large property are the houses belonging to various teams as well as my parents’ large home, which is where Uncle T drives me.
You know what I love about my uncle? He doesn’t feel the need to fill silence with useless, uncomfortable conversation. He’s also not a stupid man, so he knows that I’m in an extreme amount of pain even though I’m hiding it well. Dad handed him my pain pills before we left, so I’m going to swallow a handful of those before easing myself gently into bed. Uncle T also knows that I’m berating myself for letting Team Basilisk get the drop on me. My perfect record was ruined in a matter of minutes, all because I let emotions overpower logic.
“You know this doesn’t count,” I tell him suddenly, needing to validate my feelings out loud. “Dad cheated. I didn’t fail.”
