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Subject has manicure appointment.
Subject drives practice laps in blue Ferrari.
She dropped the sheet on the desk. “It makes me sick.” She meant it literally. Her stomach turned and churned.
He rubbed her shoulders with a sympathetic touch. “I know. Want to look at the vehicles instead?” He handed her a few additional sheets of paper. “These photos aren’t at great resolution. The archive only has a regular laserjet printer. We’ll have to get prints made if we really want to see the details. But I’m assuming Jake’s already done that.”
She stared at the black and white photos. The images could be of nearly any anonymous four-door car. “These sedans are very non-distinct.”
Ryan nodded. “That’s what I thought too.”
“I mean, these could be any one of a dozen models or badges. They’re so vanilla.”
“I don’t think that’s an accident.”
His meaning took a moment to register. When it did, she raised her eyes to his. “You think you’re being followed.”
“I do, and I think the reason Ahmadi hit a dead end with the license plates was because these are government cars.”
“Government cars,” she repeated. “Are you saying one of the U.S. intelligence agencies is following you?”
“It’s possible.”
Her head spun. “But why?”
“I can’t think of a reason but it’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“But that would also meanourgovernment’s trying to kill you.”
“Yes, it would,” he agreed.
Her stomach clenched and bile rose in her throat. She must have looked as ill as she felt because he gently guided her to the edge of the wide white leather ottoman.
“Do you need some water?”
She shook her head. “No, I just need to breathe for a second.”
He studied her face. “I’ll get you that water anyway.”
He disappeared into the kitchen and returned moments later with a glass of sparkling water and a twist of lime. He handed it to her. “Just take a small sip.”
She did as he suggested, then placed the water on the stone coaster on the table at her elbow. “I’m okay, really. I’m just shocked.”
“That makes two of us,” Ryan said. “We should call Jake now.”
She nodded her agreement. Maybe he could dispel the terrifying theory she and Ryan had hit upon.
* * *
Ryan settledon the couch next to Leilah and placed the call.
Jake answered on the second ring. “West.”
“It’s me.”
“Hey. Hang on,” Jake said. Then he addressed someone in the room, “Our friend is calling in.”
“I’ll get Omar.” Trent’s response was faint but audible.
