Spy Games (Tarnished Heroes #1)(2)

“Ma’am?” The hostess approached her, hands clasped, smile strained.

“Thanks. Tea.” Sarah spoke in broken Korean, stringing together the few words she knew. She finished off the tiny cup and slid off her stool.

Her thirty minutes was up.

That was her routine, what she’d been told to do since ditching her phone. Find a place. Hide. Wait half an hour. Then move again. Repeat. Whatever was in the package, the CIA could track. She couldn’t talk to her handler or anyone with the company, but they knew where she was, and if her luck held, someone would come for her. Someone she could trust.

Sarah just had to hope they found her before those men did.

She gripped the end of her scarf and plodded slowly toward the open doorway. Night had fallen, both a blessing and a curse. She’d be harder to pick out, but she wouldn’t be able to identify the men who’d followed her earlier all the way from the airport to her drop location.

A steady amount of foot traffic clogged the sidewalks. Streetlights kept everything decently lit. The sense of safety was false, but she clung to it, desperate for hope.

She took a deep breath and joined the pedestrians. Each step pressed the package tucked into the front of her jeans against her abdomen. Whatever happened to her, she could not allow anyone to capture the envelope. She didn’t even know what was in it, but that was the nature of her job. All she needed to know was that if she let it fall into the wrong hands, more people than just her would die.

Had she told her family she loved them before she left?

She’d been Stateside for a few days. Barely enough time to squeeze in a visit with her parents. She hadn’t been able to see her brother, his wife, or their babies. God, she hoped she’d told her parents at least that she loved them.

Sarah paused at an intersection with the rest of the pedestrians. The hair on the back of her neck rose, and she squeezed the ends of her scarf with both hands.

She didn’t have a weapon; all she had was her brain. Was she being followed? Or was this her paranoia?

She turned right, down the lesser-traveled side street, and darted a quick glance behind her.

A man maybe six feet back caught her eye.

Shit.

Definitely not Rand.

If it was Rand at all. She’d only guessed at the South Korean agent’s name because she wanted it to be him. Her brother’s best friend.

Rand had vanished on them following the accident that took her brother’s arm. Since then his parents spoke in vague terms about what he was doing, never sharing much, but she’d seen a few post cards, recognized some knickknacks. It was all a guess. She couldn’t be entirely certain, but she’d hoped that the man on the other end of the notes was the one she missed.

She sped up, stretching her legs as far as they would go with each stride, searching the street for a place to hide, a shop or store or something, but it was dark. Empty.

There was no way to tell if the guy was after her or if she was jumping at her shadow. He wasn’t one of the two she’d spotted earlier following her through the crowd. She’d caught sight of them several times, but this one, he was new. This guy could have just had a bad day and happened to be looking her way…

Sarah turned to her left abruptly and darted across the street.

Crap.

Two men, including the one she’d locked eyes with, headed straight for her. They weren’t even trying to hide now. The second was the same man in plaid she’d spotted earlier. Too much of a coincidence. She was cut off from the main thoroughfare of activity. They’d grab her before she got back there. Panic filled her chest and she tasted bile on the back of her mouth. She inhaled, forcing herself to take deep breaths and keep her eyes peeled.

Her only option was to run and try to lose them. If she were lucky, Rand would find her. She knew he was out there somewhere.

She pushed the packet down farther into her pants on one stride, and the next she sprinted forward, doing a ten-yard dash to the mouth of an alley. She ducked down the warren of shadowy corridors. Men’s voices, yelling, the pounding of footsteps—they were right behind her.

Oh God, this was bad. So very bad.

This wasn’t what she was trained for. Where was Rand? He could protect her. Adrenaline gave her speed, but she didn’t know where she was going or how to break free.

The shadows thickened until each step was perilous. Garbage, and God only knew what, littered the ground. The stench of rotting things clogged her nose.

She took a right and a left. At each turn, she glanced over her shoulder—and her pursuers were just a little closer every time.

There was no way she’d make it out of here. They were going to catch her before Rand had the chance to find her.

She had to get the package off her person. At the very least, the company could recover that. But, her handler could track the package, not her. If she hid the envelope, Rand would find it. And she’d be gone. Dead. Before she’d had a chance to see if the man on the other end of the notes was the man she hoped was there. To make things right. To beat some sense into his thick skull.

Sarah’s lungs burned and her muscles screamed. After almost twelve hours on planes, she wasn’t in any shape to sprint for her life. She choked out a sob as she ran.

Streetlights beckoned her forward, into the halo of safety. If only she could reach the crowd of people. She dug down deep for a burst of speed.

Ten yards.