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“You’re welcome. I’m sorry it was necessary. I’d hoped we could get Koslov locked up before it got to this point.” That had been the plan, but Koslov was smart and cautious; they didn’t have enough proof.
“Not your fault. It’s Koslov’s fault. We just have to deal with his selfishness. Tomorrow.”
“Yeah. Good night. Hope you sleep well.” Trevor turned on his side, away from Sam, and yanked the pillow tighter. Perhaps the morning would bring some clarity for him, Sam, and the situation with Koslov, but he was too tired to think more about it. Exhausted, he closed his eyes and slept.
A beep woke him—his vehicle. He rolled, grasping his gun—the keys were gone, and Sam’s sleeping bag was empty. Twisting and sitting up, the tent fly glowed green above him and birds chirped. His watch read eight-fifteen. It had been a long time since he’d slept that solidly. He added disabling the car’s beeper to his mental to-do list because in the future, they might need to get into the vehicle silently.
Sitting up, he pulled his hoodie on, put the gun in the pocket, and unzipped the tent. He smiled at Sam, reading the instructions on his camp stove. “Would you like some help?” He joined her at the picnic table.
She handed him the small stove. “Sure. I could figure it out, but if you already know, then you can show me.”
He picked up the pot of water, secured it, then fired up the stove. “You would have gotten it quickly. Did you grab a meal?” He pointed at the cardboard box of dehydrated food packs.
“Not yet.” She opened the box, pulling the packages up and reading them.
“What are you—oh, never mind.” Civilians. He smiled.
She frowned at him. “What? I’m picking one. It won’t take that long. There’s not much variety.”
“Sorry, military thing.” She twirled her hand and raised her brows, clearly asking for elaboration. “When you get a case of MREs—meals ready to eat—you reach in and grab one. No picking and choosing. If you don’t like it, you can try to trade.”
She shrugged. “I guess that’s fair.” She batted her eyelashes. “But I’m not in the military. I’m picking what I want. Don’t like it?” She tilted her head. “Too bad.”
He bowed. “But of course, milady. This humble peon would never think otherwise.”
Sam laughed, then selected her package. Trevor grabbed the one next to it; both were a breakfast skillet. Then he found the coffee and tea bin, pulling out insulated mugs and packets of coffee. “Coffee or tea? Or cocoa?” The MREs had instant coffee, but it was pretty bad.
“Coffee, please. Cream and sugar.” She read the instructions on the food package.
He readied the coffee while she opened the breakfasts. After the water boiled, she poured, and they stirred and waited, cautiously sipping the hot coffee. They ate in silence.
Trevor wasn’t sure how Sam felt, but he was enjoying the moment. A simple meal in a beautiful spot with a gorgeous woman was a rare occurrence in his life, and he didn’t want to ruin it. The sun was shining over the mountains, the air was crisp, the birds flitted, and Sam sat across from him. They finished eating and cleaned up.
“So, now what? I’d like to know if my friends are okay.” Sam’s brow wrinkled.
“I’d like to know too, but I don’t want to talk to them yet. There’s things I can’t tell you about, but if you remember what Wiz said in that last in-person meeting, well.” He shrugged. “I can neither confirm nor deny.” That hint was more than he should give, but she deserved that much. “I’ve got a secure phone. I’ll check in and ask for news.”
She frowned. “I’d rather contact Deb directly, but I understand.”
Trevor retrieved the secure phone from his bag and dialed his handler. As a forensic accountant, he shouldn’t have an undercover supervisor, but he did. His background as a naval officer helped, but he’d been in accounting then, too, not on a SEAL team.
The phone rang, transferred, then rang again. The display read “Aviss.” He cleared his throat. “Mills, clear.” If he’d been captured, he had a duress word.
“Mills, what are you doing?” Exasperation emphasized each word.
Trevor cringed. “Saving Samantha Kerr from abduction.” No sense in trying to hide that he’d blown his cover. “We are supposed to save people, not let them get hurt or captured.”
“You’re supposed to stick with the mission, which was getting evidence on Koslov and—is she listening?” Her last words were bitten off; she wasn’t happy with him.
“Yes. She’s worried about Boulanger, Acer, and the rest. Probably her house, too.” Sam stood so close he could feel her body heat. He wanted to pull her closer but knew better.
“They’re all fine. Davidson reports the bakery took heavy damage and the Acer worksite moderate damage, but all the subjects are fine. The Copperline Security people boarded up Kerr’s windows and doors, so her house is secure but needs work. There were casualties on the other side, both Bratva and Russian mercenaries. Koslov’s forces seem to have left, but I don’t trust that. He’s got surveillance there, I’m sure. If he doesn’t, others do. Plus, your real job, remember?”
Bratva, Russian mercenaries, and Koslov’s people were all brutal. He’d have to be extremely careful. “Understood. My plan was to find Kerr a safe house and return to Marcus.” His secure phone automatically transmitted coordinates. Aviss knew where he was and probably thought he was crazy. He’d ignore the crack about the actual reason he was in Marcus.
“I’ve got no indication that Koslov’s organization has tagged you, but that means nothing. You used the official vehicle for your last rescue, and went to the Borde house, which you knew was under surveillance. Plus, the perps found your gate in the back fence. If they haven’t ID’d you as the guy doing the reno and an agent, it’ll be a miracle, but you have a job to do. Stash the subject and get back to Marcus. See if you can get Boulanger and the rest to talk to the agents on scene, but don’t go there in person. I need you working on your primary mission, not playing white knight for your ex. Understood?”
“Understood.” But keeping Sam safe was his primary mission, whether the FBI liked it or not. He clicked the disconnect button.
