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Tossing it into backseat, she then worked a few of the bobby pins loose from her wig. That followed the mask and she scratched her head. “Once she calculates the odds of her survival in there”—she pointed at the looming building—“versus those of owing me a favor, she’ll make the right decision.”
“She saw through your disguise?”
“She’s the one who helped me build it. Her mother once worked in Hollywood on film sets and taught her how to create them. I hated doing undercover work, and not just because the wigs make my scalp itch. NSA needed my photographic memory, so I did it. The aftermath…” She shuddered. “She used her Trident Therapy to help me put those awful memories and experiences in a box and close it up. Taught dozens of us—military and spies—how to do it.”
Cal was two hundred pounds of solid former SEAL. Sunlight reflected off his hair, and he lowered his sunglasses to glance at her. Doubt shone in his eyes. “A therapist and a makeup artist?”
Those piercing blue peepers got her every time, even after all these years. When he returned his focus to the road, she continued to stare at him, grateful they were together after all they’d been through. No one understood her the way he did. No one ever would. “Her disguises were good, but her therapy? She’s the best to ever pass through NSA’s halls. Her IQ is higher than mine, and she holds state secrets I wouldn’t touch with a hundred foot pole. I have to get her out of there, Cal. She deserves better. Her freedom.”
“You don’t believe she’s a traitor?”
“Not on your life.”
The highway was empty in this location. The leaves on the trees had turned dull shades of brown, as if the hopelessness inside the prison had leached all color from them. “You’re sure the deal with AG Valupa will fly?” he asked.
Yuanita Valupa owed Beatrice. Big time. “The attorney general will get what she wants—a handsome bodyguard posing as her boyfriend for the ball next week—and so will I. There won’t be any blowback on us, I promise. The deal is solid. We’ll kill Vivi, take her out right under their noses, and Valupa will make sure it’s all put to rest. When we prove Vivi’s innocent, she’ll handle bringing the evidence to the President.”
“Have you explained to the Rock Stars what one of them will be doing for our illustrious AG?”
He wasn’t only her husband—he was head of the SFI paramilitary teams as well as handing out bodyguard assignments. Beatrice reached over and gave his thigh a squeeze, a touch that promised she would be willing to make a deal with him as well—this one to be fulfilled in the bedroom. “I prefer you to handle that. They areyourmen, after all. Isn’t that what you keep insisting every time I have an assignment for one of your teams?”
He laughed dryly, and caught her hand before it slid to a more vulnerable spot. “Really? That’s the best you’ve got? You’re going to dump this in my lap, when you know every single SEAL I’ve got worships the ground you walk on?”
TheNo Trespassingsign boldly displayed on the outside barbed wire fence faded in her side mirror.Objects in the mirror may be closer than they appear.She prayed a federal prison wasn’t in her future, or his. “As do you, if I recall,” she said giving him a cocky grin.
“You’re incorrigible.”
“But accurate.”
A few miles down the road, Cal pulled off the highway where a BMW sport vehicle idled. Mick Ranger sat inside, reflective aviators on the end of his nose. “Are we on?” he grumbled before they’d even climbed in.
Beatrice slid close to Cal in the backseat. “Midnight, affirmative.”At least, I hope so.
Mick, who’d been undercover in Colorado until a few hours ago, looked like a mountain man. His hair was down to his shoulders and his black beard was thick and bristly. His normal lighthearted self seemed to be buried under that persona.
At least he’d showered. He sped them away, kicking up gravel, probably ready to get home and see his wife, Cassandra, Shadow Force’s Chief Operating Officer, before he returned to this site in a few hours.
He turned up his heavy metal playlist, no doubt thinking about Vivi’s exfiltration plan. He was in charge of this mission, since, out of those on the SFI paramilitary teams, he had the most experience. Like all the others who worked for her, he turned inward before a big mission, reviewing it over and over in his mind, looking for potential problems and solutions to any that might pop up. Undercover operatives had their own version of Vivi’s mind palace.
His need for privacy worked for her, especially when Cal pressed the button to make the black divider between them rise. “About that raw deal you’re dumping in my lap…”
She snuggled against his side, needing to feel the beat of his heart to remind her they were free, not stuck in a black site like the one they’d just left—or worse, six feet under. They’d both walked that thin line between freedom and what Vivi now lived more than once.
“How about I sweeten the pot?” She teased his lips with hers and climbed onto his lap. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
He growled low in his throat and grabbed her by the hips, tugging her closer to feel his growing erection. They had so little time alone these days. He nibbled her ear. “You owe me, boss lady.”
That was one debt she was happy to pay. “I do offer an excellent benefit package.”
He chuckled against her mouth. “Then it’s time to settle up.”
Two
The slot in the door of her six-by-eight cell used to deliver meals slid open ten minutes after lights-out. A slender book fell inside before the crack closed once more.
For several breaths, she stared at the volume lying so innocently on the concrete floor. The single, naked bulb overhead was dark, but the dull glow of the prison’s lighting system sent bars of sickly yellow across her floor, one slim shaft highlighting it. The cover was worn, one corner bent, and the binding creased. The front showed two men struggling on the edge of a cliff with a waterfall behind them. She didn’t need to read the title to know what it said.
The Final Problem.
