Code Name: Nanny (SEAL and Code Name #5)(83)

“That’s good news.” Summer sat down stiffly on the bed. “The shower’s all yours.”

“Thanks.” Gabe picked up a towel from the desk. “Get some rest. I’m going to finish checking out Underhill’s disk and file.”

“I could help you with that.”

“No need.”

Summer glanced at the sofa and saw that he’d laid out an extra blanket and pillow. Even at a distance she could see that the sofa cushions were thin and lumpy. “You’re not really planning to sleep there, are you?”

“Trust me, I’ve slept on a whole lot worse than a lumpy sofa.”

“Well, tonight you’re not. This bed is big enough for an army, and that’s that. So get moving.”

“Why, Summer?” He was wearing his game face again, she realized. The man was completely controlled, absolutely unreadable.

“Because we have to be up soon to meet Izzy. And because you didn’t push me when you could have. So I guess that means I . . . trust you.” She gave a crooked smile. “Coming from me, that’s saying a lot.”

She lay down and looked away, afraid he would see the conflicting emotions she was trying to hold in check. She definitely didn’t want to think about him standing a few feet away in the shower, naked and covered in steam.

Or stretched out beside her in the bed.

She closed her eyes and punched at her pillow. “’Night, Morgan.”

She was relieved when he muttered an answer and walked past her into the bathroom.



His knee hurt like Godzilla had swallowed him for breakfast.

Gabe winced as he pulled off his shirt. He’d gotten a nasty scrape when he’d dropped down that access tunnel, and now a jagged gash ran from the top of his calf up to his upper thigh. But it was the big bruise covering his knee that worried him. Whenever he turned his leg, he felt a popping sensation.

Not a good sign. After two extended knee operations, his last surgeon had warned that excessive trauma could tax the tendons beyond hope of repair. For that reason he had ordered an unusually long recovery period.

After that had come Tate Winslow’s request for help.

Gabe sure as hell didn’t want to end up in the hospital for more surgery, possibly even a knee replacement. On a mission in the middle of Mexico, he had no options for treatment, anyway.

Shucking the rest of his clothes, he sank into the steaming tub, trying to keep his knee straight. When the heat hit him like a wall of bliss, he groaned out loud.

“Hey.” Someone tapped on the door. “You okay in there?”

Gabe muttered an oath. Did the woman have super hearing, along with everything else?

“Just fine,” he called. “The water’s great.” He twisted in the tub, repositioning his leg with a grimace. “Go to sleep, Summer.”

There was a long silence. “Sure. Whatever. As long as you’re okay.”

“No problems here.” Gritting his teeth, Gabe leaned back and closed his eyes. As hours of travel and stress took their toll, he felt sleep reach out, enveloping him.



He jerked awake and sat up sharply, sloshing water all over the floor. The bruise had turned dark blue, covering most of his knee and reaching down his calf. Stiffly, he maneuvered to his feet and grabbed a towel, then opened his travel kit.

Thank God for heavy surgical tape, Gabe thought grimly.



Gabe had finished wrapping his knee and was almost done reviewing Underhill’s files on his laptop when his cell phone vibrated a silent alert. “What?” he snapped.

“And the top of the morning to you, too.”

Izzy sounded disgustingly chipper, Gabe thought. “Yeah, yeah.” He studied the two open files on his screen. “I’m checking Underhill’s data now.” More entries filled the page. “Let’s see, we’ve got payments to police officers in Nogales, bribes to an assemblyman in California, payments to three DEA agents in Mexico and two more in Canada. Our pal Costello is a one-man World Monetary Fund. There must be a hundred or so entries in this file alone.” Gabe stretched out his knee, wincing a little. “Underhill was right; this is solid stuff. Costello won’t be going anywhere after this gets into the pipeline.”

“Glad it was worth the trip.” Izzy’s chair creaked.

“Cara and the senator will be delighted.”

Izzy didn’t answer.

“Got something on your mind, Teague?”

“I’ve got information on Summer.” Izzy waited a beat. “She isn’t there with you, is she?”

“She’s asleep, the way I should be,” Gabe growled. “What did you find out?” He sat down on the edge of the tub, intrigued.

“In a minute. How’s your knee?”

Gabe winced as he tried to find a more comfortable position. “Just fine, so stop worrying like a mother hen and tell me what you found.”

“I couldn’t get a hit under Mulvaney, so I checked all FBI field offices for women with the initials S and M.”

“Run that by me again.”

“Those are her real initials,” Izzy explained. “Didn’t you see the inside of her watch?”

“Can’t say as I did.” Figure Izzy to pick up a detail like that. Gabe stared at the white bandage covering his leg, which was starting to feel slightly better. “How many matches did you get?”