the highest bidder. They’re not playing fair and they’re also not the ones with contracts on their heads. So I’m trying to figure out why people want you D-E-A-D despite the fact you seem to be playing fair. And before you say anything, I know pretty much everything there is to know about your company—it’s clean.”
His gaze on me darkens when he whispers, “Who the fuck are you?”
“I’m the guy who’s kept you alive the last few weeks. If you want to stay that way, I’m going to need some help.”
He says nothing.
“Look, Penn. I could’ve killed you the moment you opened your door. I don’t kill people unless it’s in self-defense, but the people who work for me do it for the bounty. I have the power to keep them on your good side. And by the looks of it, I’d say you could use a friend at your back right now. I also need to know everything there is to know about one of your competitors, DefenseJet.”
His response is immediate. “How do you know about them?”
“Now we’re getting somewhere.” I smile but I don’t think he likes it because his spine stiffens. “They’re your competitor and I know about the kickbacks.”
“Fuck,” he spits.
He takes a step forward and moves to the sofa across from my new favorite chair. He sits but leans forward and swipes a hand down his face. We sit this way for a few quiet moments. Sometimes you just know when people need a second to regroup, and since I’m a nice guy, I give it to him.
Finally, he looks at me. “I need to know who you are. I need some kind of assurance this isn’t going to backfire on me. I can’t have that happen because I was curious.”
“I like curious,” I note. “I’ll be straight with you. I’m CIA and I have people who want me dead because I wouldn’t carry out the order to put a hit on you.”
His eyes widen.
“Yeah,” I agree. “This is more than stroking someone’s back to make it greener.”
“Yeah, it is.”
“Tell me what you know. Then I’ll tell you what I know. I bet by the time we’re done talking, we’ll both feel a little safer because, if you’re anything like me, you’ll agree knowledge is power and power is leverage. I could use a little bit of that right now and so could you.”
He sits back in his seat. “I worked all over Europe when I was active and saw a lot of shit. Twenty years of duty will create instincts you can’t easily turn off when you retire. The last few years, terrorist attacks are on the rise.”
I nod. “Like I said, we play for the same team, Penn. Already know this.”
He leans forward, elbows to his knees, and lowers his voice. “But these attacks are different.”
“How so?”
“They claim to be Al-Qaeda but they don’t act like Al-Qaeda. Then Al-Qaeda comes out, denies responsibility, and I hear the same from other sources I trust. If Al-Qaeda wants to stir shit up, they claim it.”
“Get to the point.”
He leans back. “These so-called terrorist attacks? Most are lame in comparison. Terrorists don’t blow up malls at midnight, they do that shit at lunchtime on a Saturday. They don’t plant IEDs on a commuter train before the first run in the morning, they do it right before dinner when everyone is going home. Until—”
“Until Spain,” I interrupt.
He points at me. “Bingo.”
My insides tighten. The realistic part of me knows this won’t be the last piece of our puzzle—that would be too easy. But the other part? The romantic chump I’ve become prays this is it and I can finally announce to the world Isabella Donnelly is an innocent woman right after she tells me my sperm are superheroes. Then I’ll throw my boss and his boss in jail and we’ll all live like the picture on a Christmas card from now until forever.
Admitting this right now would ruin my CIA cred, so I keep my mouth shut.
“The bomb in Spain was not what it looked like. They pinned it on an MI6 and didn’t look back.”
I think I have a man crush on Penn Simmons. “You and I are playing on the same team.”
“Spain was not terrorism. Spain was an accident.”
“How do you know?”
“Told you I still have contacts everywhere. I know for a fact all the bomb materials matched. But that’s not what came out in the news. All the fucking media did was report on