Behind the Lies (Montgomery Justice #2)(7)

Oh man. Zach tilted his head back and groaned. “You ordered me to take that gig. I told you I’m better off taking bit parts. This was an A-list movie, Theresa. You knew that. Going AWOL will tank what’s left of my acting career. I may never get another part. You do realize that if I become too flaky an actor, there’s no more cover, no more entry into sensitive countries? You lose me as an asset.”

Like he cared about the acting. He did care if he had no more reason to go to Turkey or Iraq or Uzbekistan.

“We may have lost you anyway,” she whispered, glancing around.

The crystal glass with two fingers of scotch stopped on the way to Zach’s lips. “Whoa. Wait a minute. What the hell are you talking about?”

“A classified file about your last mission is missing. After the blown handoff, we’re certain your identity’s been compromised. So are the powers that be. It’s not looking good for you to continue your double life, Zach.”

He stilled in the seat and his gaze narrowed on the woman who’d been his handler for the last five years. This couldn’t be happening. She’d taught him to kill, to lie, to cheat, to steal…all in the name of justice.

Funny thing was, he’d discovered he’d been born for deceit. And for this job.

Zach tossed the rest of his drink back and slammed the crystal glass on the elegant table in the middle of the cabin. “Find a way to get me back into the game, Theresa.”

He kept the desperation rising within him out of his voice, but he needed the Company. She didn’t know how much. The thought of losing the only value he had to offer—his entire body went cold. He hadn’t felt such a chill since he’d held his dying father in his arms.

His talent agent had called the day after his father’s funeral offering him a location shoot no one else wanted. In Iraq.

At that moment he’d known what he had to do. He might not ever earn his father’s forgiveness, but Zach intended to keep his promise. Even if his father had called him a liar.

Zach had phoned his brother Seth. The rest had been easy. Seth’s black ops contacts had put him in touch with the CIA. They’d been looking for someone who could get into Iraq and other sensitive countries without suspicion. Who better than a third-rate playboy and has-been actor who could be convincing in one role in public but become someone else in thirty minutes or less?

“Theresa, don’t tell me you can’t find a way. You can make anything happen.” He prayed she couldn’t see the panic that clawed up and down his insides.

She frowned, the line between her eyebrows deepening. “I’m working on it, but unless we determine who took the file…”

She couldn’t stop the pitying look on her face.

“I’m toast.” Zach could see his entire existence slipping past like the insubstantial cloud outside his window.

“Pretty much. Look, find a place to hide off radar. I’ll be in touch. Just stay out of sight. If they know who you are and tell the wrong people…”

“I’m dead.”

“Pretty much.”

“Thanks for the positive energy, Theresa.”

“Anytime, sugar.”

She ended the video call, and Zach let out a slow sigh. He stared out the plane’s window, fighting the suffocating wave of uncertainty—not the adrenaline-rushing good kind either. No, this was an oppressive, paralyzing emotion. The kind he’d avoided for five years.

He wouldn’t go there. He glanced at his watch. They had to have crossed into California by now. To the false life he’d created with money he’d earned after Dark Avenger topped the box office. Had it really been a decade ago?

His house in La Jolla had cost millions. Theresa had found it for him, and he’d paid cash, wanting a place to call his own, needing a place to disappear away from the endless Hollywood parties and temptation. But the property taxes. How long could he keep up the fa?ade before he’d have to crawl back to Denver and prove everyone right? That he was a screwup.

He shoved the possibility aside. No way would he face his family even more of a failure.

Most of the time Zach had no problem feeding the ne’er-do-well image. Then, once in a while, one of his brothers would call, worried about him. He’d laugh off their concern. When his mom called—that was another story. Anna Montgomery would shift between blunt Irish mom and softhearted worrier. At the end of every conversation, Zach’s gut would twist with regret. He’d pushed his family away. And none of them had an inkling as to why—except Seth, who’d never give the truth away. Seth understood the risk. Not only to Zach, but his mom and brothers.

If he could find the leak, find the file, maybe, just maybe he could get back to the movie before his acting career was completely destroyed. Blame his absence on an accident—he had the scratches to prove it—or food poisoning, the flu, anything that sounded halfway reasonable. Rumors would fly over the Internet, but he’d maintain his access to Turkey.

He hated to admit it, but he needed Theresa and the Company to need him.

Zach couldn’t give up the life. The only thing worth living for.

An unusual tingling fluttered through his hands. He squeezed the leather arms on the chair then straightened his fingers. Strange. What was going on? He stared at the nail beds. They were tinged with blue. The last time he’d seen that effect he’d climbed above fourteen thousand feet in the Kazakhstan mountains.