Page 27 of Filthy Feck


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Immediately, the volume of the music dropped.

I didn’t bother pouting—tonight’s job was definitely complete.

“I do my best work when my eardrums could burst,” I mocked as I devoured more of my snack.

“Three hours, Conor? Really?” She wasn’t talking about the pizza.

“What did you want me to do? Take my time?” I quipped, taking another bite that was slathered in pepperoni. “You didn’t have to drag my ass to Langley. We wasted time, taxpayer dollars, and increased my carbon footprint by flying me here.”

Riggs, to Black, huffed. “He’s always this annoying, yes.”

She rubbed her ear. “As I’ve learned over the past couple hours.”

“How long was the team working on that?” I questioned.

“We had a team of thirty working twelve-hour rolling shifts for the past ten weeks, twenty-four hours a day.” Riggs pursed her lips. “How hard was it to break in?”

“On a scale of the embassy in Mumbai or the attack on JFK Airport?”

She blinked. “That easy?”

I shrugged.

I hadn’t even needed to break out the worm to get into the comms platform.

If this was what they were throwing at the president’s security, then it was no wonder the First Lady had been murdered.

An annoyed breath rattled from her. “You made notes?”

“Of course.” I tipped my chin at Black. “Gave them to her.”

“We appreciate your service,” Riggs said flatly, sounding anything but appreciative.

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. Be grateful that the president isn’t dead because you guys developed a shitty comms platform.” I bared my teeth at her. “You can spin everything positively if you try, Riggs.”

She huffed. “See him out, Agent Black, if you would.”

Black didn’t answer, didn’t even nod.

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?”

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