Page 147 of Filthy Feck


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“You think I don’t feel the same way about you?”

Her gaze dropped to her half-eaten sandwich. “True. They wanted to see if you could crack the platform?”

“Yeah. It was so fucking easy. I swear, working with you has streamlined my work. I tore it to shreds without your worm—”

“Maverick’s worm,” she corrected.

“—and did it in record time. According to Temper, however, the plan was for menotto crack it then for me to be killed to keep it under wraps.”

“Sounds like a plan the Sparrows would concoct.”

“Well, Reinierisa Sparrow. So it’s on brand for him.”

She snickered. “Fair. Wonder if the other coders were under threat, too.”

I shrugged. “Maybe. Apparently, they wanted another coder to take my place.”

“Why?”

“Temperance didn’t say.”

“How did you leave Langley?”

“By helicopter. I don’t think I’m cut out for espionage.”

“That’s not a bad thing. It’s a fucking awful line of work.”

“Why get into it then?”

“You know why. Mom.”

“Why follow in her footsteps when it killed her?”

“Do you know the story of how my parents met?”

“Of course.” I rolled my eyes. “It’s like you choose not to understand how dedicated I was to the band. Anyway,noxxiouswas in Madrid, weren’t they? For a festival, right?” At her faintly amused nod, I continued, “The band got into a fight and were arrested. Because they were VIPs, the US ambassador green-lit them out of jail and took them to the embassy so they were ‘on US soil.’”

“Biggest load of bull crap going. The injustice was unreal. Marc broke someone’s jaw,” she grumbled. “And he didn’t even get arrested for aggravated assault or anything.”

While she was dissing one of the greatest drummers alive, I continued, “When they were in the embassy, your mom was there.”

She sniffed. “One look and he had to have her. Luckily for him, the feeling was mutual, but we know that his infatuation was genuine. Hers… not so much.”

“Did he know she was CIA?”

“Nope. He just thought she worked for the embassy. She perpetuated that belief.”

“What made the truth come out?”

“Tequila,” she said with a snort as she raised her coffee cup to me in a mocking toast. “When I found out, I was fascinated. Then, after she died, it consumed me. The injustice of it.”

I cupped her hand. “You’ve always fought for injustice.”

“You make it sound like I was being courageous. As with most things me-related, it was forged in anger and bitterness.”

“You can change that, Star. It doesn’t have to be like that forever.”

She bit her lip. “How do you teach an old dog new tricks?”

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