Deep Sleep (Devin Gray #1)(56)

“I’ll pass that along,” said Berg.

Devin watched the numbers on the front of the brick townhomes, stopping about two-thirds of the way to the next cross street, in front of a brightly lit redbrick stoop with a single black handrail, which pretty much looked like every other stoop in the neighborhood. He imagined this hadn’t been exactly the best part of town a decade or so ago. Fully rehabilitated now, but not much you could do with the squat row house facades.

“Seven-twenty-seven,” said Devin, raising his hand to knock on the door.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t more nervous about seeing Marnie than Berg’s mercenaries. A different kind of nervous. More like butterflies in the stomach.

“Hold up,” said Berg, checking his phone.

“I have a third surveillance vehicle down the road, before the next intersection,” said Devin. “Make sure that’s ours.”

“It is,” said Berg, typing a response on the phone before looking up at Devin. “They’re being extra cautious. Ready?”

Devin knocked on the door.

“Just remember. I need you to trust me. No matter what happens,” said Berg. “When Marnie opens the door, we get inside fast. Okay?”

“Are you sure everything is all right?”

“Couldn’t be better,” said Berg.

Marnie opened the door a moment later, smiling warmly.

“I thought you might have stood me up,” she said, glancing at her watch.

“Definitely not,” said Devin. “We just ran a little behind—”

“Why don’t we talk about this inside,” said Berg, basically shoving him into the town house.

Marnie’s smile evaporated as she backed out of the doorway, her lips pursing and eyes squinting.

“Devin. What the hell is going on?” she said, pulling him out of Berg’s way. “Who is this asshole?”

Berg shut and locked the door.

“My name is Karl. I was a friend of Devin’s mother at the CIA. Devin trusts me, and I need you to trust me. At least for a few minutes. Our lives depend on it.”

“What is he talking about?” asked Marnie.

“Karl. I think you’re being a little overdramatic,” said Devin before turning to Marnie. “I don’t know what his deal is right now.”

“Whatever it is, I don’t like it,” she said.

“Yes. I’m an asshole. Agreed. Let’s move to the back of the town house, please,” said Berg. “It’s safer.”

Marnie didn’t budge, shaking her head instead. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Please. We’re about to have company at the front door. Russian houseguests with no manners. If we move now, we’ll be long gone before they arrive.”

“Devin?” she said, giving him a puzzled look.

“Karl. How does that make any—” started Devin.

Jesus. He’d used them as bait!

“You son of a bitch. You let them follow her here, didn’t you?” said Devin. “This whole town house is nothing but a setup. I knew it didn’t sound right.”

“Yeah. And I’m half of the bait,” said Berg, starting to walk away. “So please. Can we get the fuck out of here? We really don’t have time for this. Our ride will be out back any second.”

“Don’t take another step,” said Marnie, pointing a compact pistol at Berg. “We’re going to make some time.”

Berg’s shoulders slumped and he exhaled deeply.

“Did you give her your gun?”

“No,” said Devin.

The pistol he’d taken from his mother’s safe had been a Smith & Wesson M&P9 Compact. She was holding some kind of modular Sig Sauer.

“Jesus. Please talk to her. Quickly,” said Berg. “We’re out of time.”

“Marnie. I need you to trust me,” said Devin. “If he says we need to go, we need to go. I’ll explain everything at my mother’s apartment.”

“Your mother’s apartment is still an active crime scene,” said Marnie.

“My mother’s other apartment,” said Devin. “She wasn’t crazy. She discovered a Russian sleeper network, and nobody believed her—but it’s all true. She kept a second apartment with all of the evidence.”

“Devin. I want to believe you, but I’m really having a hard time with this.”





CHAPTER 27


Harvey Rudd nudged Jolene’s arm. She’d been turned in her seat, staring through the binoculars for too long without saying anything.

“Knock it off,” she said.

“What are you seeing?” asked Rudd.

“Let me see the pictures again,” she said.

Rudd held the pictures of Karl Berg and Devin Gray in the subdued light cast by the open glove box. Jolene glanced down at the pictures for a few seconds before returning to the binoculars.

“It’s Karl Berg and Devin Gray,” said Jolene.

“How sure are you?”

“One hundred percent. They just entered the town house,” said Jolene. “Call it in.”

Rudd could barely believe their luck. Two of CONTROL’s high-priority targets in one place. He’d been expecting only Gray, and even that had been a long shot. He opened the chat app on Jolene’s phone and typed the code word corresponding with the number at the top of the screen, followed by a dash and then his message.