Page 141 of Rescuing You

“I wasn’t going to, but⁠—”

“We all know about your buddy at the White House.”

Michael flinched at his friend’s cold words.

If Stone knew about that, did he also know Michael hadn’t wanted to join the team? He’d liked his role working out of the Berlin office, alone. But the chief of staff’s son, Travis Price, had been a friend in college. He was their contact at the White House and he’d appealed—no, he’d had his father appeal, on behalf of the president of the United States—to Michael to join the team.

What was Michael supposed to do? Say, “No, thank you, sir. I’m happy where I am”?

As if that’d been an option.

And even if it had been, it was an honor that Travis recruited him. In fact, his friend had insisted Michael join the covert team, wanting someone he could count on to tell him—and by extension, the president—the truth.

Michael didn’t know everything about the political maneuvering that’d gone on before the inauguration, but obviously, the president didn’t think he could trust the establishment. That fact alone said a lot.

Michael had never mentioned Travis to Stone or any of the guys. As far as he’d known, Brock was the only one who’d been aware of the connection.

“It means something to be on a team,” Stone said. “You’d have learned that if you’d served.” He yanked the small car around a corner.

And there it was. The thing that separated him from his teammates.

His lack of military service. “Brock sidelined me.”

“While your team searched for your secret girlfriend.”

Yeah, well… It sounded bad when he put it like that.

“You should have told us what you were doing. You should have trusted us.”

“Trusted you when you showed up at my hotel room in London in the middle of the night?”

Stone shot him a glare. “You were there.”

“Got out a second before you burst in.”

“We knocked, man. We needed to find out what you’d learned.”

“At two o’clock in the morning.”

“Which happened to be about thirty minutes after our flight arrived. You should have trusted us.”

Michael had learned a lot of things at the Farm. How to kill. How to stay alive. How to find bad guys and watch them. How to blend in.

He’d never quite mastered the trust other people thing.

Especially when it looked like they were betraying him.

Stone drove along a maze of streets so narrow and hilly it was a wonder a normal-sized car could traverse them.

Voices sounded in his earpiece, scratchy at first but growing stronger. The rest of the team had gone straight there. They were already searching for the van—and the terrorists.

The hotel was in the heart of the city, not far from the café where they’d left Bryan. The old stone building looked like it’d grown right out of the soil, as if it’d always been there.

Driving slowly, they passed wide steps that rose on both sides around a fountain and led to a small courtyard. Unlike the seemingly ancient exterior, the glass doors that must open to the lobby looked brand new.

Stone parked on a side street. Together, they approached the hotel from the back, keeping their eyes open for threats.

Inside the lobby, inlaid ceilings were painted with fancy scrolls, and intricate chandeliers hung over the kind of furniture that looked both fancy and well-worn. An eating area at the back held six café tables, all empty now.