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Curious.
Before she could turn and leave, I queried, “Since when did you get pally with the CIA?”
“Since the First Lady’s death, inter-agency cooperation is at an all-time high.” It was a standard response.
Bullshit.
I narrowed my eyes at them both, well aware that something was going on here and that neither would tell me what.
Lips pursed, I carried on chewing the pizza I’d had Black supply me with before I’d finished worming my way into Eagle’s Claw just in case they thought they could deny me food after I beat their asses—I deserved a fucking snack after that hot-shit display of cracking genius—and I watched Riggs depart while Black strode over to me.
“You’re not her inferior,” I said once I was done chewing.
That had her arching a brow. “Says who?”
“Says me. So why is she bossing you around, getting you to escort me out?”
Black smiled. “Are you ready to leave, Mr. O’Donnelly?”
Not for the first time, that smile put me on edge.
“Am I going to be allowed to leave?” I queried, my voice unnaturally calm.
“There are many exits from this building,” she demurred. “We will be leaving via a different one than where we entered earlier.”
Uncertain why that both answered my question and didn’t, I got to my feet, rubbed my hands on a paper napkin that had come with the pizza box, and I grabbed my laptop bag, which I’d stowed away after I’d completed my task.
Case in hand, I checked the time and saw that it didn’t line up with the clock on the wall.
Frowning, I rubbed my forehead and followed Black out of the now-silent room.
The halls were empty.
It was nine-forty AM according to the wall clock. Ten-forty according to my watches.
This place should have always been ticking, but it was nine-forty in the goddamn morning, and there wasn’t a soul around.
Over the years of dealing with the government, I’d come to learn that as discomforting as life in the mob was, it was a kinder fate.
The mob would only torture and kill you.
The government would torture you, kill you, erase you, defame your name, malign your family, and maybe toss a couple of your brothers or sisters in jail at the same time.
“Fucking government,” I mumbled under my breath. “No wonder I have authority issues.”
The greasy pizza started to settle heavily in my gut, making me wish I hadn’t eaten the damn thing in the first place.
With every step I took, my level of unease grew as I failed to pass a single soul until, finally, I saw someone.
A guard.
Eyes blank, focus straight ahead. Black suit, black tie, white shirt. Translucent earpiece. Brown hair, a forgettable face.
Black didn’t nod at him, just went to the door and opened it.
As she walked in, she held the door for me, her gaze locked on mine in a silent order to follow.
I wasn’t a moron—this wasn’t a battle I needed to die fighting—so I traipsed in after her.
