Way of the Warrior (Troubleshooters #17.5)(52)

She snorted as the darkness pressed on them. “There’s a reason for this?”

“Just one and I want you to listen to it closely,” he said.

Another shiver caused by a voice that was gravelly but delicious nonetheless. “I’m waiting.”

“Don’t make me kill you. I don’t have much of a conscience left. Killing Michael’s little sister would destroy it,” he whispered.

He stepped past her, and then they were hurrying down the hall, following the faint yellow glow thrown by the guard’s flashlight.

I don’t have much of a conscience. The phrase rang in her ear the entire way through the holding wing. The sounds of the prison moving into lockdown mode came from a distance. Vivi had built in a twenty-four-hour window to allow for their truth-finding mission. It would take another A-rated hacker that long to discover the virus she’d placed in the system and potentially correct it.

Her hope was they’d be too busy chasing their own asses, making sure the prison was safe from any further infiltration, to chase his. After that twenty-four-hour bubble, a full-scale, nationwide search would begin and nowhere would be safe for Rook or Vivi. It might be a fruitless hope, but it was all she could offer.

They exited a side entrance normally used by officials and prison personnel.

The vehicle was waiting where she’d left it. The guard opened the passenger door, and she bypassed him, walking to the driver’s side and opening the door. Rook shook his head, refusing to get in.

She sighed. “I’m a good driver.”

He shook his head again. The guard tried to cover his laugh.

“Get in the car. Me driving is nonnegotiable,” she said and got behind the wheel of the blacked-out Suburban.

It took a solid minute for him to come to grips with the fact that he was at the mercy of a female driver. She couldn’t see him, but she felt him glaring at her. Finally, he got in and slammed the door. Vivi bit off her smile and pulled away.

“We now have twenty-three hours left of your temporary reprieve from prison,” she told him.

“Why twenty-three?”

“I’m giving them twenty-four hours to find and override my virus in their security system. After that, all bets are off. That whole song and dance we just went through at the prison used up one hour. Are you ready, Sergeant, to discover the truth?” she asked.

“I know the truth. I was framed,” he bit out.

She shrugged. “Yes, well, finding the proof is the problem, isn’t it?”

Vivi pulled out of the prison facility. She took a right on State Route 73 and then a left onto Twentieth Street. From there she took another left onto Seneca and pulled into a liquor store parking lot.

“I’m not thirsty, but I’ll watch the car for you,” he said in a hard voice.

She laughed, couldn’t help it. Somewhere under that painfully gruff exterior was the man he’d once been—the man her brother admired so much his name had been the last word he’d uttered. “No need. We’re switching cars.”

She turned the engine off, sat back, and waved her hand in front of her. “Pick.”

He remained silent, and she sighed again, getting seriously put out by his reticence.

“We have no choice but to change vehicles. This one was tagged before it was dropped off for my use. While I’m sincerely appreciative for the efforts of Brigadier General Johansen, we don’t need him to know all our secrets, now do we?”

He turned his gaze to her, and her breath locked in her throat. “You just told him.”

She forced her serene smile back in place and reached into her pocket. He went on alert, in her face and grabbing her hand in one of his while wrapping his other hand around her throat before she could pull out what was in that pocket.

“You are so suspicious,” she said with that same smile plastered to her face.

He grunted. She was starting to realize that was his rote response to most things.

“Let me go,” she ordered calmly.

“Don’t try me.” But he released her.

She pulled a tiny black box out of her pocket and set it on the dash. “Jammer,” she said softly.

His gaze never left hers, but eventually he sat back on his side of the vehicle. The goose bumps were back in full force. Being the recipient of his full attention was both exhilarating and unnerving. He finally, finally, looked out the windshield.

“I don’t trust you.”

She could understand that. “My brother prepared me for that. I think I can give you something that will help a little.”

“Yeah?” He looked at her again, raven eyebrow raised. “What’s that?”

“It’s a single word. Michael said you’d understand. After all, it’s the reason you’re in the position you’re in.”

More silence. Her nerves were stretched. She really needed a damn break from all the damn quiet.

“I’m waiting,” he said softly.

She made sure her gaze connected with his before she said the single word. “Endgame.”

His eyes didn’t flicker, his face remained impassive—there was nothing to betray he’d even heard her. The silence stretched again, taut, deafening, and filled with all manner of things she never wanted to know about. It was as close to death as she wanted to skate and had her brother been there, she would have seriously ripped him a new one.