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I was shocked when he easily switched into an American accent, asking her if the temperature was right and if she was comfortable. While he went through that rigamarole, Tabs and I stepped out, ready and waiting. But I was surprised to find only one bodyguard. There were supposed to be two.

Tabatha wasn't even phased. She walked up to him and asked if he would like some water. He declined but clearly checked her out as he did so. I pretended to try and tug her along and gave him an apologetic smile on her behalf. He studied me closely and then frowned as if he knew me. Oh shit.

He called after me. “Hey, do I know you?”

I shook my head. “No. I’ve just got one of those faces.”

But he started walking toward me, and it felt like a tank was chasing me down. But suddenly, he stopped and sank to his knees then slumped forward.

I glanced up at Tabs, and she shrugged. “We were going to end up here anyway. This just expedited things. Let's get him in the room.”

He had certainly looked enormous, and even with the two of us working on him, it was hard to drag him back to the green room. We had to use a two-man carry to get him out of the way.

While we wrestled him into a cupboard, I pressed my comm unit again. Lock was quiet. Too quiet. “Lock come in. Speak to us if you can hear us.”

When he didn't say a word in response, my heart squeezed. No, no, no. We secured the guard and ran to the door, only to find the massage room open and no Graciella in sight. In the far corner, Lock groaned.

He was coming around and rubbing the back of his head.

“What happened to you?” I searched him over, looking for any bruises, cuts, punctures, anything to indicate he was really hurt. Other than the bump developing on the back of his head, he seemed fine.

“It seems Graciella didn't buy the American accent. When I turned to get the oils and prep the syringe, she hit me with the fire extinguisher over there.”

I cursed under my breath. Tabs was muttering a string of curses out loud, and on the comms, Saint was frantically searching for our target. He said, “She didn't come out any of the exits. We at least have eyes on them with the cameras. She has to still be inside.”

Tabs looked at me. “What formation do you want to run?”

I forced my brain to think through the options. We had done this before and lost her. How had she escaped?

My gaze flickered to Tabs. “Let's say you know your boyfriend—or in this case, boyfriends—is notoriously security conscious. He even sends you to the spa with a security guard. Not to mention he rarely shows his face in public. But every now and again we get a reported sighting. How does it happen?”

Tabs shook her head. “Mate, I don't know. It's not like she's Houdini.”

I glanced at Lock. “Unless she is. Lock, remember at the hotel when we ran that grid and were surprised because there was no way she should have been able to move past us unless she had a predetermined escape route. What if she had one here too? She frequents these places. She's publicly been Massimo’s girlfriend for at least six months now. But what if he's just the public face? What if she's been privately seeing Antonio for years? Someone as beautiful as her wouldn't want to stay away from the spotlight. Somebody like her would need the spotlight. Need to be seen. So Massimo was excellent for that because he's not publicly tied to his father's interests.”

Lock’s eyes went wide. “So when she wants to do something like this, she uses public avenues but keeps her private access in case of emergency.”

“Exactly. Tabs, get Margo back in here. See if we can get a map. Blueprint would be better.”

In our comms, Saint laughed. “I'm faster. I've already put them on your tablet. But she's got a head start.”

“Hopefully it won't matter. I'm looking for where she's going to end up. I don't want to follow her. I want to beat her there.”

Tabs whistled low. “Holy hell.”

I frowned staring at my tablet. This was a long shot, and I could feel the doubt trying to creep in. What if you're wrong? What if you fail… again? What if this time you do lose a team member?

I gnashed my teeth together, zoomed in on the map, and encircled the spot. “Can you guys see that? What is that? Where is it?”

This time it was Tabs who had the answer. “That looks like a commercial building with some live-work properties. If this is accurate, it'll drop her right out onto the main street. She can walk into those commercial properties and vanish. There's also a tube station near there.”

I glanced at Lock, and he nodded. “Tell us what you want us to do.” His words were clear and direct, and he was willing to follow me. Wherever I was leading he was willing to go.

“My money says she's going here. And if we lose her, we're not going to see her for a very long time. So let's go.”

The three of us wasted no time running to the van, and Saint already had it warmed up and ready to go. And he drove like the devil himself was chasing him through the streets of Manhattan until we made it to the office building. He parked illegally, and all four of us strapped on our Kevlar and grabbed our guns, though it would be best not to get into a shootout in the middle of Manhattan. That would end poorly.

We clambered out, and I sent Saint and Tabs to the subway entrance just in case. Then I went with Lock to the primary entrance that would take her into the commercial building.

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