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“What’s wrong?” Quinn put her arm around Aine’s shoulders.
“Nothing. Frustrated. Trying to understand. But why? I’m with Stuart now.”
“Sweetie…”
“I know. It’s stupid.”
“I didn’t say that.”
She looked into Quinn’s eyes. “What should I do?”
“You know what to do. Follow your heart.”
Aine nodded. “I gotta go.”
Quinn winked. “Go on then, get outta here, girl.”
—:—
They hadn’t been on the ground an hour and were headed to the US embassy in Bogotá when Striker received a call from the ambassador.
“Juan Carlos is dead.”
“Goddammit,” Striker swore under his breath. “Sorry, sir.” He knew better than to use that kind of language with a high-ranking US diplomat.
“I understand and share your frustration. Details regarding your visit were kept on a need-to-know basis.”
“Which means either you have a mole or we do.”
“It’s more likely on our end.”
“Yes, sir,” Striker responded, relieved the ambassador said it, so he didn’t have to.
“I’m afraid you’ve made a wasted trip.”
“I realize you may not have time in your schedule to meet with us, but I’m asking anyway, sir.”
“Least I could do. What’s your ETA?”
“Less than five minutes.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
Striker ended the call and told Ranger and Diesel what he and the ambassador had discussed.
“I’ll see what I can find out while you’re in the meeting,” offered Diesel.
“Ranger, you join me.”
“Roger that,” he answered.
Once they arrived, Striker would request their meeting be private. It would be up to Diesel to figure out who wouldn’t want it to be.
He wished Onyx and Corazón had come with them rather than stayed with the plane. He could’ve used two more sets of eyes to be on the lookout for the mole.
13
“I sense you have some discomfort over me staying with you,” Stuart said on the ride back from the airport.
