Spy Games (Tarnished Heroes #1)(40)
The silence stretched on.
“Rand—” She choked out his name. “There’s been a delivery.”
Wait—what? He shook his head. That wasn’t—she had the ear bud mashed deep in her ear, face creased. He snatched up the pen and flipped back to their notes.
“There’s been some sort of emergency…quiet…very important package delivered to the embassy. They’re all talking at once. It’s hard to really follow who is saying what. I—I think it’s the briefcase, Rand.”
“What makes you say that?”
She bit her lip, brow furrowed. He wanted answers now, but that wasn’t how this worked. Her eyes jumped back and forth, as if she were following two people talking. Or more.
“They’re talking—oh God.” She covered her mouth, her voice muffled. “They said—someone killed Charlie.”
…
Irene strolled into the break room. Mitch’s gaze was so cold it burned her. That fool of a man would have to wait.
She snagged a disposable coffee cup and plopped in a nice dark roast coffee pod.
How had the world gone to hell in such a short amount of time? She pulled out her personal phone, checking the latest status update on Anna. One thing was going well. Money talked when it came to getting the right kind of care for her sister.
Now, what to do about Mitch and Hector?
She mulled the problem over in her mind while the machine chugged and trickled out her eight ounces of liquid life.
A week ago, she’d delivered the briefcase to Sarah before she departed D.C. for her round-the-globe trek. In the beginning, Irene had been on hand either in person or by phone for checkins at every layover and dead drop. Sarah was an old pro at this stuff now, so Irene hadn’t considered the idea that she would be needed. But this time, she had.
Because they had a mole.
Irene had suspected it for some time. It was hard for most to see, but she’d been in the department longer than others, who viewed it as a temporary gig. She had a much greater swatch of experience to draw from. To evaluate the patterns. To see what was going on.
This wasn’t the first time one of their contracted operatives had been sold out. It was merely the first time Irene was involved and knew what was going on from somewhere in the beginning of things instead of the aftermath. It was so much easier to see the subterfuge of others in hindsight than in the moment.
“Afternoon.”
She turned, studying Hector. The report he’d made was…brief. It didn’t begin to cover the scope of what was going on.
“We need to talk. Walk with me.” She wasn’t making a request, and Hector wasn’t stupid enough to pretend it was.
“Sure thing. It’s nice out—”
“Walk.”
Hector dropped the disarming smile, his nice guy act, and pivoted, leading the way to the stairs. She kept pace, careful to not slosh her coffee over her hand. Jet lag was a bitch at the best of times.
They didn’t speak until they were outside, the harsh afternoon sun slicing through the clouds, chasing away the rain.
“The Seoul job. What happened?”
“I can get you a copy—”
“I read your report. Now I want to know what really went down.” She sipped from her cup, peering up at Hector.
He’d almost been fired. For what, she didn’t know, but it’d landed him in her division. Technically, they were a department of information analysts. In truth, they coordinated their assets, who did the true information gathering, and then pored over what it meant. They were spy wranglers, their jobs the most dangerous of all. They had a hold of the wolves by the ears, unable to let them go and unable to hold on. It took a strong person to do what they did.
“Someone made your girl, followed her, nearly got my guy killed and almost ruined the work we’ve been doing for the last two goddamn years. Then this spook swoops in, goes straight for the case, and spirits it away. We barely got the assets out alive.”
His words rang true…but he wasn’t telling her everything. Neither had Mitch. What weren’t they clueing her in on?
Was she being played?
“They’re here now, correct?” She let her gaze rove over the people strolling the street, the others wolfing down a quick lunch before heading back to work.
“Yes, we debriefed them and put them in a position to finish the job.”
“You have a way to contact them?”
“We’re in firm do-not-contact protocol here, Irene.”
She stopped and turned, forcing Hector to swing around and face her. “Your seniority does not supersede me. Now, you and Mitch might be having a pissing contest over this, but I don’t give two shits about who has the bigger dick. You will give me the contact protocols.”
In short, she didn’t trust Hector to keep a hamster alive, much less Sarah. She could be in as much, if not more, danger on home soil than she’d been out in the field. It was time to pack up her family drama and remember that she had a job to do and lives that depended on her.
“Fine. Okay. Yeah. I’ll make sure you get them.”
“Now, what else aren’t you telling me?” She strode forward, mind at work.
One way or another, she’d bring her girl home alive and safe.
…
Sarah couldn’t believe how cavalier these men were.