“I worked with Pike on a couple of ops.”
The kitchen seemed to narrow around those nine words.
“Where?” She flattened her hands on the counter as if that would keep her from falling apart. Or tossing something.
“Honduras. Then Curaçao. Different operations. He was DEA support. Smart. Quiet. Good with sources. Honestly,nothing stands out, at first glance. I wouldn't think twice about him, except for one thing.”
“Doyle," she whispered. "Did he work with Doyle?
Sterling’s gaze held hers. “He did. And he works for a similar operation as Doyle up in Delaware called Brandywine Security. And they've done a few joint private cases together.”
"When did you learn all this?" Juniper looked down at Logan’s name again. "How?"
"When I made the Pike connection, I had Mia do a quick look. She's doing more, but that's the pre-lim."
"Fuck me," Nick muttered.
There it was. The line she hadn’t wanted and couldn’t ignore. Logan to Sterling. Sterling to Doyle. Doyle to Logan. Logan to Mark. Mark to her.
"Shit," she mumbled. “If Doyle knows Logan, and Logan knows who I am, then Doyle might know who I am, too.”
"I'd say that's a pretty safe bet," Sterling said.
“He hit on me the first day,” she said.
Sterling's face contorted.
"Oh shit," Nick said. "You look like this just got way too personal and that's never good."
“It was already personal when he showed up here to lure me into a trap for what's in my brain,” Sterling said. "Now, he’s pissed me off by bringing someone I care about into it."
“Where's Pike now?” she asked. "Besides living in Delaware."
“Mia's looking for an address and an exact location." Sterling pushed aside his half-eaten sandwich.
“But he could be anywhere,” she said.
“He could be here,” Nick added. "We need to change gears. We can't play the long game and wait for you to meet with Doyle's client. Whatever they actually want from you and are willing to do with you to get it, they’re willing to be patient as fuck."
"What do you suggest I do?" Sterling asked. "Call Doyle and tell him, sorry, changed my mind—not taking the job."
"That's actually a good idea. It’ll force them to be more aggressive." Nick lifted the papers. "Might even bring a few people out of the woodwork."
"That's crazy." Juniper shook her head. "That could get him killed." Glaring at Nick, she took a step back and planted her hands on her hips. "You know Mark was working on trying to prove that Shrike was buying and selling secrets. That whatever or whoever Shrike was, that it was moving money, assets, weapons, whatever it wanted, between governments, cartels, terrorists, and it managed to stay under the radar. You also know he got a call right before he got killed, and you know what I think about that."
“I've always known someone would come for me,” Sterling said. "I've shut down more corridors in Central and South America than are on the books. The mission that Nick, Doyle, and I were on eight years ago had to have a leak. I knew it. Nick knew it. But we could never find it."
"We never thought it was Doyle." Nick rubbed his temple. "He took a bullet. He took heavy gunfire. We all did. I read that report many times. But someone gave up our position. Someone wanted our guy. And the worst part was after that op, things went quiet."
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"Someone put pressure on congress to let the corridor take care of itself," Nick said.
"Not someone." Sterling shifted arched a brow. "Harlan Koda."
"What?" Nick stared at Sterling.
So did Juniper. "You knew this?"
