Spy Games (Tarnished Heroes #1)(7)

“I have to call in.” She turned toward Rand and the small bed they’d shared.

“No.”

“Rand—”

“Someone at the company bugged you. And someone sold you out. You know what that means?”

“You can’t be serious.” She leaned against a desk, the only other furniture in the room.

Rand stood, unfolding his big body to his full height, towering over her. She gulped and stared up at him. She’d always been the vertically challenged one. It made for great hugs, though. Rand in particular had always liked picking her up, and deep down she’d always loved that moment of trust, knowing he’d never drop her.

He was telling her she’d been burned…and all she could think about were old times.

It was too much to wrap her head around.

“W-what do we do?” She was a courier. She took things from point A to point B, and that was it. Her training was minimal. This job was supposed to be low risk. Then why was she in an apartment with her arm cut open and no way to know if it was safe to leave the country?

The lines around Rand’s mouth deepened.

“Say it,” she demanded. Years apart, and she still knew when he was holding back.

“What was the nature of your mission?”

“I’m a courier. That’s it. I only have one operative I meet face-to-face, the rest are all dead drops.”

“Any idea what you’re transporting?”

She shook her head.

“Where’s the rest of your stuff?”

“In a locker at the airport.”

“Key?”

“In the jacket we tossed.”

“Shit.” Rand paced the length of the small apartment. “I can work with that.”

“Are you sure they’re after me? What about the envelope?”

“If they knew what was in it, they’d have been trying to shoot you—not capture you.” Rand pushed the sliding door open that separated the entry and kitchen from the main room.

“Where are we?”

“We’re squatting in a vacant apartment.”

“Is it safe?”

“For now.”

Rand pulled out a box of take-out from the mini-fridge, dished out food into two bowls, and slid them into a microwave.

It was surreal being in the same room with him. They hadn’t spoken or seen each other since the day in Matt’s hospital room. The day they’d amputated from the elbow down. She understood why Rand blamed himself for the accident; the guilt was natural. Leaving Matt—her—without the opportunity to make things right, was the true crime.

Matt had needed his friend. He’d needed Rand. And Rand hadn’t been there. He’d vanished. Refused all form of contact. Cut them out of his life.

One day, she’d been writing him letters and drawing hearts over all the Is in the hopes that someday he’d get the picture, and then he was gone. Her letters came back undelivered, and no one heard from him anymore.

Matt’s recovery, his acceptance, had taken years. There was no doubt in Sarah’s mind that Rand’s absence had made things worse.

“Here. Eat.”

She blinked at the bowl of rice, still lost in her head.

“You have to eat,” he said.

“I know.” She took it and perched on the edge of the bed.

She could barely take her eyes off him. His reddish brown hair had more of a gingery tone, and there were more freckles on his skin. Those eyes of his, they were older now. She couldn’t imagine the things he’d seen, but under it all, she still recognized her Rand. The man who’d made her want to grow up a little faster.

“Have you slept?” she asked.

“I can’t let you leave.”

Sarah chewed the rice slowly. Just like Rand to wait until she had a mouth full of food to say something.

“I’m days away from completing a sensitive mission. Regardless if we’re compromised, I can’t see my assets hung out to dry.”

She swallowed and set the bowl on the bed. “What do you want to do?” She was at a loss, here. In over her head. Her training didn’t cover what to do in this situation.

He stared at her, nothing like the Rand she’d known. He was harder. With more edges that could cut than she could count. He was weighing her, deciding how far he could trust their tenuous connection versus her status as the newest burnt dish.

“I’ve spent the last year and a half supporting a high level general in the North Korean army who wants to defect. He knows things. But we’ve come to a point where he refuses to help us unless we get him and his family out of the country.”

Shit. That would not go over well. “The envelope…it’s what? Passports? Visas?”

“Sort of.”

“You want me to stay here until you’re done?”

“You have to go with me.”

“I’m not a spy, Rand. I carry a briefcase around.”

“You don’t have to do anything. I just can’t afford for you to fall into the wrong hands.”

It was all about him. How she was a danger to his mission. His objective.

Sarah nodded.

It made sense. She knew way too much about Rand, his family, and what he was doing. Her ability to withstand torture was laughable. They’d break her in hours. From a tactical standpoint, it made complete sense.