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I extended my palm, and he placed the bud in it. Without thanking him, I walked to the first row of the aircraft, hoping he wouldn’t follow, yet somewhat disappointed when he didn’t.
“Good God,what was that all about?” Angel asked partway through the flight when she came out to use the loo.
I rolled my eyes and nodded, unsure what to say in response.
She sat in the seat beside me and leaned close. “So…you and Zep?”
“What?”I gasped. “No. Absolutely, unequivocally,no. We’re on assignment, tracking the vilest of human traffickers, by the way.”
“You’re right. Apologies.”
“Truth be told, I hate him.”
Angel raised a brow.
“I mean it. I hate him.”
When she nodded and patted my hand before returning to the cockpit, I knew I’d bared my soul to her in a way I never could with Zeppelin.
Once she was gone, I stepped into the lavatory. Within minutes, I’d transformed my brown eyes to blue and my long dark hair to shoulder-length sandy-blonde, pulled into a tight bun. After the addition of dark and dramatic brows, an excess of eye shadow, liner, mascara, and pale pink lipstick, even those on the plane might have a hard time recognizing me. Except Angel, of course, who was familiar with several of my go-to disguises.
The final alteration to my appearance was something Zeppelin would certainly appreciate. I removed my C-cup anddonned the specially made double-D, which I topped with a tight, black pullover turtleneck.
Below the waist, I wore the same jeans, but rather than tan flats, I put on a pair of black stiletto booties.
While I didn’t anticipate either Schön or Macht would meet us here, in Zurich, I donned the disguise on the flight anyway since I wouldn’t have the opportunity prior to meeting them in St. Moritz.
It was imperative no one, other agents included, recognized me. The sole exception was within the tight-knit circle of SIS, and even then, only those above a certain level of security clearance knew who I was. Even before I was tapped to join Unit 23, my identity—including photos—was entirely wiped.
As an MI6 agent and the Swiss task force commander, Zeppelin’s likeness was also closely guarded, but not to the extent mine was and would be for the rest of my career, if not life.
After we landed,I noticed an SUV waiting on the tarmac, close to where Angel taxied the plane. I guessed it was there to transport us from the main airfield to the helipad.
“Whoa!”Condor exclaimed, studying the difference in my appearance as I picked up my bags and headed out the plane’s door. “Let me help you with that,” he offered, stepping out of the cockpit.
“I’ve got it, but thanks.” While he might be able to best me in sheer size, I was a warrior, or as Angel used to say, one fucking badass bitch. I could carry my own bloody bag.
I was at the bottom of the airstairs before I heard my friend calling out for me to wait. “Sorry,” I said when Angel caught up.
“I’m the one who’s sorry. Condor and I just received orders to return to London immediately,” she said. “Love the eyes, by the way.Sodramatic.”
I dropped my bag on the tarmac and hugged her. “At the end of this mission, you and I are going on holiday.”
“Sounds fabulous.”
“Excuse me,” Zeppelin muttered when he got to the bottom of the steps and found us in his way. He stalked over to the SUV, eyes riveted to his mobile, without as much as a glance at me or a goodbye to Angel.
“I never took him for the broody sort,” she said under her breath.
“He usually isn’t. In fact, he’s jovial to the point of being irritating.” Why was I defending him, and more, did I really know the man well enough to say he was one way or another?
“I wish you the best of luck, and stay alive, Ver.”
We cheek-kissed. “You do the same.”
I tossed my bag in the back of the SUV and closed the hatch. I was about to get into the empty front passenger seat when I heard a woman with a Swiss accent say, “You can take the back.”
I glanced over my shoulder at the woman I immediately recognized as Schön. God, what was she doing here? “Of course. Apologies,” I muttered.
