“Same here,” Royce said. “I’m glad you both made it back. Keep me informed.”
“Roger,” Crusher said.
“Out here,” Royce and Swede said, and the call ended.
Crusher tucked the burner phone in his pocket. “Let’s go shopping.”
Marta’s brow wrinkled. “Are you sure we’ll be safe?”
“You heard the boss,” Crusher said with a brief grin. “We have backup waiting in baggage claim. I know the two he sent. They’re the best.”
“Okay.” Marta sighed. “It would be nice to have clothes that fit for wherever Marsh takes me.”
Crusher reached for Marta’s hand.
Marta hesitated and finally took his hand, but she didn’t meet his gaze. “It all seems so anticlimactic.”
Not usually one to believe in jinxes, Crusher cringed. “Let’s hope it stays that way.”
His gut told him the handoff would be anything but anticlimactic.
He prayed his gut was wrong. Just this once.
Chapter 10
Marta tensed as they left the secure section of the Miami airport and passed into the baggage claim area. She glanced right and left, scanning for the two men Royce had sent from his team. Not knowing what they looked like didn’t help, forcing her to study the faces of every man who was approximately Crusher’s age and build.
“I see Drago,” Crusher said.
Marta’s gaze shifted in the direction Crusher was looking and frowned. “Where?”
“The man wearing black trousers, a khaki blazer, and he has black hair.” Crusher’s lips twitched. “Looks like one of the James Bond actors.”
Marta found the man and shook her head. Sophisticated good looks, not at all like the ruggedly handsome SOS operative who’d rescued her from Vasquez’s compound. “Are you sure he’s good. He looks more at home at a yacht club than fighting bad guys.”
Crusher laughed. “That’s what I thought when I first met Drago. Don’t let his clothing fool you. He’s a former Navy SEAL. The man isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty, and he’s deadly when it counts.” He headed toward the man, eyes alert, scanning the crowd of passengers as they eagerly collected their bags and moved toward the exit.
Drago held out his hand. “Crusher, glad you made it.”
Crusher gripped the man’s hand in a firm handshake. “I’m glad Royce sent backup. It was hit or miss getting from Colombia to Miami.”
“I heard.” Drago turned to Marta. “Dr. Hale, welcome to Miami. Drake Thornton at your service.”
Marta placed her hand in Drago’s, surprised it wasn’t smooth but calloused, more than she’d expected. Smaller than Crusher’s, but strong. “Nice to meet you. I must admit, you’re not what I expected.”
Drago gave a suave smile and waved toward Crusher. “Not all of the SOS team is built like a tank, as is our guy Crusher.” He tipped his head toward the door. “Phantom’s waiting in the car out front. We need to hurry before they make him move.”
Crusher hooked Marta’s elbow and ushered her out of the terminal into the hot, humid South Florida sunshine.
Marta blinked at the brightness, her eyes adjusting to the glaring sun.
Drago led the way to a dark SUV pulled up to the curb. He opened the back door and held it as Marta climbed in and slid across the seat. Crusher got in beside her and pulled the door shut.
Drago claimed the front passenger seat and nodded toward the driver. “This is Brett Taggert, aka Phantom.”
Crusher leaned over the seat and shook the man’s hand. “Phantom, thanks for coming.”
The man glanced at them in the rearview mirror, his lips twisting. “Wouldn’t miss a chance to visit the sweltering heat of Miami.”
