Page 35 of Destroyed With You

He shook his head, pushing the thoughts aside. “No way. That laptop shows the flow of money through Hawthorne to a government agent, you’re right about that being true. But not the SOC. Seagrave needs the laptop and Bartlett to prove who really is dirty.”

“I don’t know anything about payoffs,” she said. “But it sounds to me like he’s telling you the truth you need to hear. He’s just not telling you that he’s the dirty agent.”

“No. I know this man. I’ve worked with him for years. Hell, I worked with him when I was on the Hades mission. He came to our wedding.”

Her eyes went wide. “Our wedding? What are you talking about?”

“Uncle Andy.”

Her hand fluttered to her mouth. “In the wheelchair?”

He nodded. It had been risky having Seagrave there, but he’d wanted real friends. Emma and Seagrave had come, and so had his parents and brother, who’d believed he was the sheriff marrying a nice local girl.

And since Linda had no family, Uncle Andy had even given her away.

She reached across the table and took his hand, and for the first time since he’d seen her, he wanted to simply hold on, sharing his strength. He didn’t trust her, not yet. Not really.

But he couldn’t deny that he wanted to.

And that, he knew, made her all the more dangerous.

Slowly, he tugged his hand back, breaking their contact. He took a moment to gather himself, then lifted his face to hers. “Seagrave isn’t dirty. I know it.”

“No,” she said simply. “You don’t. You can’t.” She cocked her head. “Unless it’s you who’s dirty. Then I guess you’d actually know the truth.”

“Dammit, Linda—”

“Look, this is the entire basis of my mission. Bartlett hired me for the hit, sure. But I’m not going to go around assassinating his enemies.”

Winston crossed his arms over his chest. “Seattle.”

“That bastard was responsible for the bombing of two elementary schools in Europe that he staged to look like US military actions. It was a hit sanctioned at the highest level.”

“Which, of course, I have no way to confirm.”

She shrugged. “Sorry about that.”

“Fine. Go on. Tell me something else I can’t confirm.”

She shot him a scowl so familiar it made his heart twist with the memory.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Go ahead.”

“Fine. As I was saying, I never carry out Hawthorne’s orders directly. I run them through my handler and work the counter mission. With the bomb guy, it was a termination, but that’s rare. Usually we’ll fake a death then put the target in witness protection.”

“You’re telling me Bartlett was going under at the government’s expense?”

“No, no. That’s what I anticipated. But my handler told me to take him out. He said the information in Bartlett’s head and on that computer was too sensitive.”

“Accounting info.”

“No,” she said. “That’s the point. The laptop doesn’t really have accounting information. What’s in those files is the identity of deep cover agents all over the globe. Can you imagine how much that would be worth on the black market?”

“And you know this because…?”

“Obviously it’s been a long-term mission at my division. And Collins has been overseeing it since—”