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He heard his team walking up behind him even though they walked like f**king spooks. He stepped back from Stella.
Brick held out an arm to her like he was some frickin’ tuxedoed date. “Interested in your own team of Special Ops escorts back to the command post? We’re all headin’ that way.”
“Thanks; you guys are probably ready to get through your debrief and find food.”
Fang trotted alongside, getting ahead then falling back, racing ahead again, puppy style. “I feel like that damn song… should I stay or should I go? This place is crazy. Do they want our help or not?”
Data clipped alongside at an even-measured pace. “The vice president’s wife is emphatic on that subject. You can be sure today’s events won’t send her running.”
An odd sense of déjà vu rolled over her. “My mother said the same thing every time she would leave for her next Peace Corps mission. She would tell me about how little girls here were hurt… She waited until I was fifteen to explain that ‘hurt’ was a euphemism for female circumcision.”
Fang tripped over his overlarge puppy feet. “Shit, Stella. Is it even okay to say those words out loud? Just… Shit.”
Data scowled. “In a culture where it’s estimated over ninety percent of the females experience that…”
“Argh!” Fang thumped his hands on either side of his head. “Makes me want to kick some pirate ass for all those girls and for that boy we picked up too… Ajaya.”
Bubbles cocked his head to the side. “You think the kid’s innocent?”
Jose didn’t know what to believe anymore, not after Sutton. And now that Ajaya had been mentioned, why hadn’t the teen said anything about Sutton’s involvement? Perhaps he hadn’t known, but it was quite possible he had. How much was truth and how much was a setup? Ajaya was the one who’d told Stella about the code in the kanga cloth in the first place.
Her voice pierced through his thoughts as they reached the mobile command center.
“I think he’s scared shitless and would do anything to stay safe. I think there are countries that use children as soldiers and weapons for the very reason that we’re vulnerable in that arena. We’re wired to back off when a kid’s involved.”
Great. He hitched his hands on his hips. Just f**king great. “I guess this is where we step off. Good luck with that second cloth.”
She winced. “Unless I’m about to lead us all on a wild goose chase.”
“Hey!” He caught her eyes with his and held firm. “You’re a rock star operative who got us here in time to avert a disaster of epic proportions. I have faith in you.”
She snorted on a laugh. “Just call me the JLo of Interpol.” Stella stepped back, looking at the whole team. “Glad you guys are okay. Good work out there. Jose, I’ll bring you in the loop if I can.”
Pivoting away, she flashed her badge to the guard, swiped it through the security lock, and disappeared inside. He watched the door close behind her, scratching along the tightness in his chest.
Brick coughed, loudly.
Jose startled and realized—damn it—he’d been staring at the door like a lovesick puppy. Most of the team started hoofing it away before he could bite their heads off and started walking toward the west side of the building, where they would give their statements of what went down.
Brick held back, striding alongside him, one stubborn determined step at a time. Great guy to have guarding your back, but the pigheadedness wasn’t always convenient.
“Fine,” Jose conceded. “Say it.”
“What?”
“Don’t play cutesy. You’ve been giving me that wise old married guy look like you know better than me about everything. So either speak your piece or back the f**k off.”
“You’re in a mood.”
He hadn’t fully grasped that himself until just now. “It’s been a crappy couple of days.”
“You were worried about Stella.”
“You think?” He’d been through hell and back, more than once, and now he was screwed, trying to figure out how to make things right with her.
“Why don’t you just marry her and put yourself out of your misery?”
His neck itched. Things weren’t that simple. “Just because you tied the knot doesn’t mean everyone else is cut out for the happily ever after gig with two-point-five kids and a picket fence.”
