A Covert Affair (Deadly Ops #5)(24)

Amelia turned to Nathan and tapped her ear as soon as Cade closed the front door behind him. “Can you . . .?” She trailed off, silently asking him to turn off his earpiece.

Not caring about protocol, he did. The NSA had gotten what they wanted from her at this point. “It’s just you and me now.”

“I would have done it anyway, in case you’re wondering,” she said softly. “I just want you to know that.”

“I know.”

Her eyebrows lifted a fraction. “How?”

“Because you care about Danita. I heard it in your voice when you were talking to Maria.”

For a moment she looked torn between anger and another, indefinable emotion. Then she sighed and stepped closer to him. For just a moment, that high wall between them seemed to crumble. God, he wanted to pull her into her arms, to shake her and tell her not to fucking do this. They’d get to Mercado another way. There was always another way. He just wanted Amelia safe.

“Do you think we could have lunch or dinner without listening ears? I still have more questions,” she said softly.

Completely taken off guard, he nodded. He didn’t have to think about his answer. Maybe that made him a masochist, but he didn’t care. “Yes.”

She reached out as if to touch him, but the door opened and her arm dropped. They both turned to the door.

Cade looked pleased and that sinking feeling in Nathan’s gut intensified. “Your terms are acceptable. Now we just need to go over our game plan.”

“We’ll go over the plan, but I don’t do anything until I’ve talked to Sinclair and I’ve got a written contract with outlined terms I agree to. And my attorney will have to approve.”

Nathan hated the thought of sending Amelia into a potential viper’s nest. No matter what, he’d be on the other end of her comm when she was in Mercado’s house.

And if God forbid something did go wrong, he’d do anything to get her out. It didn’t matter that she’d broken his heart by walking away from him as if he had meant nothing. She still owned a part of it, and he could never let anything bad happen to her.





Chapter 6


Operational latitude: the broad scope of flexibility that an agent has on a mission when making mission decisions.





Wesley Burkhart opened the second row door of the SUV he was in, then slid over so Captain Jarvis Nieto of the Miami PD could get in. Despite the ridiculous early-morning hour, the man looked alert—and annoyed with him.

“You don’t know how to ask for a small favor, do you?” Nieto shut the door behind him with force before strapping himself in. His movements were precise, probably bred into him from his Navy days. He was only five years younger than Wesley and in good shape.

Wesley’s driver immediately pulled away from the curb without a word.

“Is your wife annoyed?”

Nieto just snorted. “No. She’s a cop’s wife.”

Which meant she was accustomed to her husband leaving in the middle of the night. Wesley nodded once. “Good. Did you talk to Detective Sinclair?”

“Yeah. Told him not to talk to anyone, including Amelia, before I got there.”

Considering they now had Sinclair under surveillance, however temporarily, Wesley already knew about their recent conversation. But he wanted to see how up front Nieto was with him. He’d worked with the captain before, after the Westwood bombing last year, and he genuinely liked the man. From what Wesley had found out about him, and through his own interaction with Nieto, he cared deeply about his city, and while he could play politics, he put his job and people first, not his own personal gain. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. Tell me why you pulled me out of bed at one thirty in the morning.”

Wesley handed him a manila folder. Nieto would get to read the file on the missing women, but he couldn’t keep a hard copy. It was why Wesley hadn’t been willing to risk sending Nieto anything electronically. Wesley didn’t suspect a leak anywhere, but he was keeping this whole thing locked down tight. The more people who knew about it, the bigger chance the wrong people found out. “Read the highlights. My team is working on this, but we’re not checking in with any other agencies.” Which, yeah, was fucked up, but Wesley didn’t care. At all. He wasn’t going to waste time with red tape or procedure when his guys could get the job done. “If you and Sinclair help us wrap this up, you’ll get all the credit for bringing down whoever the ringleader is.”

“Hmm,” was all Nieto said as he flipped to the next page. Then, “Stop and pick up coffee and muffins. There’s a place a block from Sinclair’s home. We’ll drive right by it. He’ll be easier to deal with if we feed him.”

Wesley nodded at his driver, who’d merely glanced at him in the rearview for confirmation.

By the time Nieto had read most of the file, they’d made it to Sinclair’s condo complex, coffee in hand. They buzzed him at the gate and were let in immediately.

“What do you want from us?” Nieto asked, handing the file back to Wesley while his driver looked for guest parking.

“For now, I need Sinclair to confirm to Amelia that my guys are FBI.” And it was possible that sooner or later this deception would get back to the FBI, but if they played this right it wouldn’t. “I need this shit quiet and can’t afford any other agencies to get wind we’re here. Mercado could have sources we don’t know about. He’s managed to avoid arrest for a reason.”