Actual Stop (Agent O’Connor #1)(10)

“Like I said, it doesn’t matter. I was looking into something for a friend. You don’t need any more explanation than that.”

Mark glared at me for a long time. “I can slaughter you for this, you know.”

“I know.”

“You still won’t tell me?”

“I don’t rat out my friends.”

“I ran,” he murmured.

I blinked at the abrupt change in subject matter. “I hate running.” Where was he going with that remark, and why had he suddenly decided to exchange workout tips?

Mark appeared confused. “What?”

“What?”

“Why did you say you hate running?”

“Why did you tell me you ran?”

Mark looked a touch smug. “No. The country. Iran.”

“Oh.” I paused and waited for him to elaborate. He didn’t. “What about it?”

“Iran comes in next Thursday. He’s scheduled to stay eleven days. The visit may get extended.”

“I heard.” I definitely didn’t like the direction this conversation was headed.

“I want you to do the intelligence advance.”

“Jay’s doing the intelligence advance for Iran.”

“I’m pulling him. His son’s sick.”

“His son has a cold,” I shot back. “I’m sure he’ll be better by Thursday.”

“Still, I want him to be able to spend some time with his family. You take the lead.”

“Fine.” It could’ve been worse. I could use the overtime anyway.

Mark’s eyes positively glinted. Clearly he hadn’t quite finished doling out my punishment. “I’m also reassigning the Dougherty case to you.”

What sort of game was he playing, and how was he planning to get away with playing it? A few months ago, I’d been assigned as the Secret Service rep to the Joint Terrorism Task Force. The JTTF was an FBI-run collection of law-enforcement officers from different agencies who worked together to combat the country’s ever-expanding war on terror. When I wasn’t on a protection assignment or doing my required timekeeping paperwork for my own agency, I reported to an FBI-controlled office in Manhattan and assisted with investigations into targets suspected of funding terrorism in one way or another.

I still wasn’t sure how I’d managed to score such a coveted assignment. Mark would never nominate me for the position. I had my suspicions, of course, but no concrete proof. And the how behind my good luck wasn’t important enough for me to make a proverbial federal case out of it. I loved the task force, and I got to spend less time under Mark’s thumb. No way was I going to argue with that.

Being assigned to the JTTF also relieved me of the burden of conducting regular threat investigations. Since our threat cases were extremely time sensitive, and my duties at the JTTF would keep me from getting them done, all my ongoing cases had been reassigned when I’d transferred. I had only one annual update to status for a subject confined in a local mental institution.

“Okay,” I said, drawing out the word. I wasn’t yet positive whether I should point out that I wasn’t supposed to be carrying a regular case load, so I refrained.

“You don’t have a problem with that, do you?”

“I suppose not.” I mentally reviewed my JTTF caseload. I could probably manage to squeeze in the Dougherty case without too much hassle. But why had Mark suddenly departed from his beloved protocol? As I turned to go, he revealed his reason.

“The report—which should be a final, closing report, by the way—is due in five days.” Mark sat back in his chair and laced his fingers behind his head, looking relaxed and smug.

“What?”

“Five days. Timing fits perfectly with the visit, doesn’t it?”

That did it. My stoic veneer, which’d been shaky at best, finally shattered. “How the hell am I supposed to start the lead for Iran and conduct interviews for a thirty-page report due in five days?”

“Hmmm, it’ll be tough, but I’m sure you can handle it. You’re a superstar, right? Isn’t that why you’re in this squad?”

A knock on the door saved me from torpedoing my career.

“Come in,” Mark said.

Still seated, I cast a glance over my shoulder so I’d know who to thank later, and my gratitude quickly vaporized as the ground seemed to disintegrate beneath me the instant my eyes fell on the new arrival.

Allison Reynolds stood in the doorway, her near-black eyes sparkling with amusement. My heart promptly stopped, skipped a beat or two, and resumed pumping double-time. An unwelcome heat rose to my face, which contrasted to the icy feeling that slithered down my spine, freezing all my internal organs on the way down. The bitter notion that this day kept getting better and better flitted through my jumbled thoughts.

“Agent O’Connor,” Mark said, his voice sounding far away and tinny. “You remember Agent Reynolds. Agent Reynolds, please come in. I was just about to tell Agent O’Connor the good news.”

Allison stepped into the office and moved to take the seat beside me. My body was humming unpleasantly, and my mind had gone completely blank. Allison’s sudden reappearance had been so out of left field I couldn’t have prepared myself for it if I’d wanted to. I also couldn’t adjust to it, apparently.