Spy Games (Tarnished Heroes #1)(23)
Rand glanced over Hector’s shoulder. The meeting room doors were still shut. Sarah? Or Mitch?
“Follow me.” Hector nodded down the hall. Rand fell in line with him, anxious to know more. Now.
“You known Sarah long?” Hector asked.
“Almost my whole life.”
“You two close, or…?”
“We were once. Why?”
“This way.” Hector didn’t answer his question, and Rand didn’t ask again.
The CIA location he’d been taken to after checking in to a hotel to create a fake paper trail was some distance outside of D.C., in what appeared to be an office building. It was the first time Rand had been to this location, but he recognized a training site when he saw it. He was willing to bet they were between classes or sessions, because other than the four of them, he’d seen maybe three other humans, none of whom made eye contact.
They couldn’t admit to knowing what they hadn’t seen.
Hector took Rand deeper into the building, to some sort of break room. “Coffee?” Hector plopped one of those single serve cups into a machine and hit a button.
“No, thanks.” Rand leaned against the wall. “What does Sarah have to do with all of this?”
“I don’t know. Maybe nothing.”
“Hector, don’t fuck with me right now.”
If Sarah’s life was in danger, Rand had to know. She was his responsibility. His friend. His…something. They’d stopped being just childhood friends and adolescent crushes the moment they’d laid eyes on each other in that pharmacy. From that moment on, he’d known he’d give his life to protect hers, and he’d kill to do it.
“I honestly don’t know. Beyond her connection to the briefcase, I have no clue.”
Rand waited, watching Hector doctor his drink until it was practically sugar water flavored with a hint of coffee.
“What do we know, Rand? What’s top of your list?”
“Someone burned Sarah.” And he’d left her alone. Upstairs. It was a CIA facility. In theory, she should be fine. But right now, he didn’t trust much of anyone that wasn’t him or Sarah.
“Why would someone want to burn a courier?”
“I…don’t know.”
“What does she know?”
“No clue.”
“Who does she know?”
“Fuck if I know.”
“Exactly.” Hector sipped his coffee. “Her file is anemic. Everything I know about her I could fit on a sticky note, and for someone who has been with the company this long, we should have more documentation about her. So, answer me this—what don’t the higher-ups want us to know about your friend Sarah?”
“I. Don’t. Know.” And Rand didn’t like that. Not one bit.
“Neither do I. You aren’t going to like this, but…I’m going to assign you as her protective detail. You’ve got history together. Maybe you’ll be able to feel her out better than someone else, get her to talk. She’s not telling us everything, either because she’s under orders not to, or she’s got something to hide.”
Rand nodded. No, he didn’t like that this was how the job was going to go, but he wouldn’t want to entrust her safety to anyone else. As far as he could tell, Sarah was a victim here.
“I want you to stay close to her. I can’t go around saying we can’t trust our own people, but Mitch and I are in agreement that this needs to be handled quietly and as off the books as possible.”
“Can we trust Mitch?”
“He was in politics before he came to the CIA. Sometimes it’s hard to figure out what that guy’s thinking.” Hector shrugged.
“If you thought you could, we’d be having this conversation with him right now.”
Hector sipped his coffee.
“And Irene?”
“Now there’s a question.” Hector sighed. “I don’t know her that well, and I’ve worked in the same building as her for a couple years now.”
“I need to get back to Sarah.”
“I agree. Stick to her like glue. I’ll let you know when MI6 clears your assets as safe. Should be any day now. Don’t worry, they’ll make it.”
Rand paced toward the door, wheeled around and back. “What’s the deal with Mitch? Why is he in on this? Who is he?”
“Charlie Peterson is the company’s man over our people in Asia.”
“I don’t know of him.”
“Because you’re a contractor.”
“But he knows Sarah?”
“She’s a company employee. Part-time sort of deal.”
“So Sarah takes information from Mitch to Charlie? And others like me?”
“I can’t answer that.”
“So that’s a yes.” Rand stopped and stared at his reflection in the glass of one of those motivational posters on the wall. That was why the briefcase was so important. Whatever she was transporting for the company would be locked in there, and she’d open it only to make a drop. At a glance, it was an easy gig, but it made her a target in a way Rand didn’t like. And then there was the fact that Sarah had asked about Charlie. By name. As if she were familiar with him. “Charlie hasn’t made contact, and though it’s not outside of normal parameters, you’re worried he’s compromised?”