Crusher sat back with a snort. “And it’s not hot in South Texas?”
“It’s a dry heat,” Phantom said.
“Compared to Miami, you’re right,” Crusher said. “We need to make a stop at the nearest shopping mall. We could use a change of clothes and some toiletries.”
“Roger.” Phantom pulled away from the curb, his gaze sweeping the rear and side mirrors often.
Drago brought up a map on his cell phone and located a shopping mall, giving Phantom the directions. Once they were on the way, Drago turned in his seat to look back at Crusher.
“Do you anticipate trouble in the handoff of the asset?” Drago asked.
“Human,” Marta said tightly. “Here in the same vehicle.”
Drago grimaced. “My apologies, Dr. Hale. You’re absolutely correct. You’re not a package to be delivered, but a brilliant scientist to be protected. My mistake.”
Marta sighed. “Thank you. Crusher, do you think we’ll encounter problems at the handoff?” She cocked an eyebrow in his direction.
His lips curled in a brief smile and then straightened. “I hope not. Given what we encountered getting out of Colombia and then Panama, I was surprised we didn’t meet any resistance in Mexico or when we arrived in Miami.”
Marta nodded. “Same. Unless Vasquez is confident my replacement is making progress. All the more reason to get back into a lab as soon as possible. We’ll need an antiviral to lessen the damage that virus will cause.”
At the mall, Crusher, Drago and Phantom stayed close to Marta. She appreciated the protection, though it was a bit awkward when they insisted on inspecting the ladies’ dressing room before they let her go inside to try on clothing.
She selected two pairs of slacks, two blouses, one in pastel green and the other in a shade of butterscotch that complemented her hair. In addition to the outer clothing, she added socks, comfortable walking shoes she could run in, toiletries, and seven pairs of sexy panties, a matching lacy bra, and a babydoll nightgown. She slid the delicate unmentionables into the middle of the pile of clothing, a little embarrassed to display them in front of the three macho men.
Hiding them was useless when Crusher was the one who had to pay for them. The clerk carefully folded each item, on full display, before she placed them in a bag.
Crusher didn’t say anything about the undergarments, though his brow rose when they were being folded.
Heat burned Marta’s cheeks throughout the process. She told herself it was logical to buy such items. She had nothing with her and didn’t know when she’d have the chance to stock up. It was no different from the set of clothes Crusher had brought to the checkout counter, except for the size and colors. He had pants, shirts, socks, and shoes, along with a six-pack of boxer briefs.
Marta filed that data into the back of her mind. The man wore boxer briefs. Her imagination grabbed that information and ran with it, bringing up images of what he might look like in them. The heat in her cheeks intensified, spreading south to her core.
She wondered if they’d share a room as they had in Panama. Surely, Crusher would insist on it. Her gaze fell on the other two men, who stood with their backs to them, surveying the store and the customers moving through the clothing racks. Would they stay in the same room? Would they be in a suite with all four of them together?
Marta hoped not. She’d gotten used to having Crusher to herself. And that kiss on the airplane...
The clerk finished ringing up their purchases and scanned the credit card Royce provided. He’d sent a Visa gift card, one that couldn’t be traced and didn’t require any form of identification.
With their bags in hand, Marta and Crusher left the mall with the two SOS agents flanking them the entire time.
No one accosted them or tried to grab Marta, for which she was grateful. Their time together was short. She had one night left with Crusher, and then she’d be taken somewhere to work on stopping a virus from becoming a worldwide pandemic.
“We should hit a drive-thru for food. I don’t feel comfortable sitting for a long period of time in a restaurant,” Crusher said.
Everyone agreed.
“I would love a hamburger, French fries and a strawberry milkshake,” Marta announced.
Crusher chuckled. “I would’ve pegged you for wanting something healthier.”
Marta shrugged. “After six weeks of cornmeal patties and beans, I think I can handle a burger and fries. And who doesn’t like strawberry milkshakes?”
“Hamburgers and fries it is,” Crusher said.
“And don’t forget the strawberry milkshake,” Marta added.
The men laughed.
