Badger to the Bone (Honey Badger Chronicles #3) - Shelly Laurenston Page 0,46
the basics we should be teaching him?”
After that question, more confused silence followed. A silence that went on for so long, Zé began to laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
He shrugged at Tock’s question. “I’m just . . . entertained, which is not something I say very often. Because most people do not entertain me. But you guys . . . ?” He nodded. “Entertainment.”
“Awwwwww,” Streep said. “You guys, we have to keep him now He’s adorable!”
Nelle closed her eyes, shook her head. “He’s not a rescued kitten, Streep.”
“But still!”
Zé glanced over at Max, one brow raised. Her response? Mouthing, Oh, my God. Sorry.
And that only made Zé laugh harder.
* * *
Amelia Kamatsu waited outside the office of her boss after he’d given her and her team their next assignment. She was surprised to be called in. She never had been before. What they did was beyond top secret. They weren’t spies or anything. That took a subtlety most of her team lacked in many ways. But when the government couldn’t take action for political reasons, it called the company that hired her team.
It wasn’t an easy job but she did enjoy the freedom it gave her. When she wasn’t risking her life in foreign countries for an exorbitant fee, she was relaxing in her secure cabin deep in the Maine woods.
But this was the first time she’d lost one of her men. And she didn’t mean “lost” in some euphemistic way. She meant lost. She’d lost him. Her team had been attempting to track down Vargas for days and nothing. It was as if he’d disappeared. She hoped, however, that her boss had some news of him. That he was in a hospital somewhere, recovering. Hopefully the damage wasn’t too great and he’d be back on his feet soon. Maybe not able to join the fight again, but at least able to live as normal a life as any of them could. That was the least Vargas deserved.
“He’s ready to see you now,” the receptionist said.
Amelia picked up her briefcase, pulled down the light sleeveless blouse that covered the weapon holstered to the back of her black slacks, and entered the office. She smiled at her boss—until she caught sight of the man sitting at the far side of the room. A man she didn’t know.
“David,” she greeted her boss.
“Amelia. Hello.”
He stood and Amelia reached across his large desk to shake his hand. “Good to see you.”
“Please. Sit.”
She did, moving her hair off her shoulder so she could get another look at the man watching her. He made her nervous but she didn’t know why. Maybe it was those eyes. The way they watched her was . . . off-putting.
“Any word on Vargas?” she asked, eager to get to the heart of things.
“As a matter of fact . . . yes. He’s alive.”
She let out a relieved breath and relaxed into the leather chair. “Thank God. Where is he? Can I go see him?”
David glanced at the man across the room. “Not right now.”
“Why?”
“He’s recovering.”
“Then I definitely should see him. He’s one of my team. I should be making sure he has everything he needs.”
“He has everything he needs,” the man across the room said.
Amelia smiled. It wasn’t a real smile. It was one she’d taught herself a long time ago when she’d joined the U.S. Navy and was surrounded by very sensitive men who couldn’t stand a woman who got “mouthy.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “And you are?”
“Zezé Vargas is being taken care of and will completely recover.”
“Recover from what?”
The man tilted his head, blinked. It was weird.
“From his injuries,” the man finally replied.
“His injuries? What kind of injuries?”
“The kind that require healing.”
What kind of fucked-up answer was that?
Amelia turned to David, and the man who dined with U.S. senators and vice presidents gave a short headshake. His way of telling her to “stop asking fucking questions, woman!”
“Anyway”—the man stood—“ just wanted to give you guys that update. And I’d like that report of yours. Please.”
Amelia gripped the handle of her briefcase tighter. She’d been so busy asking about Vargas, she hadn’t put it down. It still sat in her lap.
“My report?”
“Yes.” The man walked across the room, his hair brushing his shoulders. God, she would kill for his highlights. It was like a world of browns, grays, whites, and golds in there. How much did that cost? “Your report. Now, please.”
Amelia again looked at her boss and he frowned, urging her along with a jerk of his head.