“Watchtower’s already en route,” Elissa continued. “He’s got orders to keep his distance, but he’ll be close enough for backup.”
“Do we know if Carr will even be there?” Colin asked.
“I’m tracking her through her phone. Her vehicle is heading that way.”
“Her vehicle. That’s not what I asked.”
“No,” Elissa said. “It’s not.”
Maren sat beside him, the envelope held against her chest. Her face was pale, but her voice was even. “It’s a trap.”
“We knew this was a possibility,” Colin told her. “And we’re going to get out of this alive. We get Carr. We get her to the secure location. She contacts her person and delivers on her promise.” His gaze flicked to the phone mounted on the dash. “There will be people there to make sure of it, right, Ironman?”
“Believe it,” Elissa said. “Watchtower will be one of those people, and my old pal is very persuasive.”
“You say the sweetest things about me, Ironman.”
Colin recognized Malcolm’s voice. He’d met the man—Chicago accent, built like a brick shithouse, cold as hell. Absolutely devoted to his wife, Annalie, and to Watchdog. Lynn was in for a rude awakening if she didn’t cooperate.
Maren turned her head toward him. “Colin.”
He looked at her for half a second, then back at the road.
“I’m okay,” she said.
No, she wasn’t. But she was brave.
And she would be okay once he brought her home.
Colin pointed the SUV toward the garage where Mira Walsh was killed.
Beside him, Maren went very still like she was bracing for impact.
“Listen to me,” he said.
Her gaze shifted to him.
“When we get there, I’m not going to be gentle.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.” He kept his eyes on the road, scanning traffic, mirrors, storefront reflections, every vehicle that stayed behind them one block too long. “I’m going to keep playing the part. If someone’s watching, they need to believe Kyle sent me to drag you through this because Watchdog is done with you.That means I may grab you. I may shove you behind me. I may say things I don’t mean. I want you to remember I don’t mean them.”
“I know,” she said again, softer this time. “You’ve been doing that and it’s fine, I understand.”
She trusted him so completely it made his chest ache.
“If things go bad, you get behind the engine block, not the door. Car doors don’t stop rounds the way movies pretend they do.”
Her mouth twitched. “Good to know.”
“If I say down, you go down. If I say run, you run. If I tell you to leave me, you leave me.”
“No.”
He looked at her.
She looked right back.
