Spy Games (Tarnished Heroes #1)(84)

She edged deeper into the room.

There were three windows giving some light to the room. It was still mostly shadow and darkness.

She went forward slowly, her danger sense ringing.

Something wasn’t right. Part of her brain knew that voice. It didn’t sound like Rand.

Andy? The other guy, Noah? Hector?Mitch?

She peered around a room divider and gasped.

Sitting hunched in a pool of light was the broken, battered body of a man. Even in the dim light, she could make out darker splotches of color, bruises, wounds. He stared up at her from one eye, the other swollen shut. Parts of his face were recognizable, the others swollen and disfigured.

“Sarah?” He blinked at her.

“Charlie? Oh my God, Charlie!” Sarah went to her knees but stopped short of touching the man. Looking at him hurt. She couldn’t imagine what kind of pain he must be in. “They said you were dead.”

“I wish I was.” He wheezed, though maybe it was supposed to be a laugh.

“What happened? Everyone thinks you died.”

“They jumped me on the way to our meet.” He dropped his head back against the partition, as if his head was too heavy.

“Oh, Charlie, I’m so sorry.”

“Have you told them?”

“Told them what?”

“About the case?”

“They have it.”

“Fuck.” He closed his eyes. “Tell me what happened. From the beginning.”

Sarah recounted her steps from picking up the briefcase to her missed drop in Seoul. She ran through the highlight of the days since then, though they were all blurring together in her head.

“Your handler thinks we have a mole?”

“Yes. I promise you, Charlie, I had no idea.”

“I know you didn’t. You did your job.” He reached out with his hand and patted hers.

“They don’t have you tied up?”

“I’m not in any real shape to go anywhere.” He barked a laugh. It sounded painful, as though things were knocking around inside of him that weren’t supposed to touch.

“What are we going to do?” She chewed her lip. Should she tell him? “Irene said they wouldn’t send a team in after us, that we’re on our own.”

“You think your friend will try?”

“Maybe.” She glanced toward the door. “Is there any chance we could, I don’t know, try to escape?”

“We won’t get far.”

“We don’t have to get away.”

“What are you thinking of doing?” Charlie peered up at her.

“Irene gave me a mini camera. If I could get out of here and back to the briefcase, I could snap pictures of everything, then destroy the protocols.”

“They’d kill us.”

“Aren’t we already dead?”

And shouldn’t their deaths mean something?





Chapter Nineteen


Irene would never have guessed a knife wound could hurt this bad, but it did. She ached from her head to her toes. Likely because of the surgery. Damn knife had nicked something when Wei stabbed her.

When all of this was over, she was taking a vacation. A real one. With her sister.

Anna would be okay. The doctors in Switzerland thought the surgery and subsequent procedure to shrink the tumors would be successful. It was a miracle. The good news Irene needed to keep going.

“Turn here.” She guided Carol into the parking garage attached to a fancy condo building.

Mitch always did have extravagant tastes. Who knew the guy was practically an heir to fortune and glory?

Why the hell was a guy like him working for the CIA? The rumors about him turning his back on a budding political career made so much more sense now that Irene knew who—and what—he really was.

Everyone had their secrets, just not ones quite this big.

Carol parked her car in a guest spot on the first floor. Irene used Carol’s phone to dial Mitch’s cell. Chances were he was fast asleep, or up pacing.

“Hello?” The gravel voice sounded a lot like she felt.

“Mitch. It’s Irene. We need to talk.”

“Has something happened?”

“I need to see your email. Now.”

“Why? Aren’t you in the hospital? Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“I checked myself out. Cooperate with me, and I’ll tell you why.”

“Dammit, what’s going on?”

“I need to see your email.”

“Fine. I’ll bring it by in the morning.”

Irene nodded at Carol and she cut the engine. Irene climbed up out of the car, feeling more and more weary with each step.

“You sound like you’ve been drinking,” she said.

“Like you wouldn’t if they’d let you. It’s all going to hell, Irene. This is going to destroy us.”

“What us?”

“Us. You. Me. The company. What’s going on is criminal. This should never have happened. We don’t know who we can trust anymore. Can I even trust you?”

Irene and Carol entered the building through the garage entrance. Mitch kept talking, his paranoia about everything going wrong spinning more and more of the bigger story.