standing at the rear of the church where I was moments ago.
Wendy and Randolph are surveying the situation, studying us like we’re some weird problem made with an array of numbers and symbols their simple brains can’t compute. I’m holding my gun opposite them—there’s no way they can see it.
Wendy reminds me of an ugly snake, slithering and slow but could pounce at any moment. “Interesting how you wanted her dead hours ago. Yet, here we are, interrupting your family reunion.”
“Do I know you?” Randolph focuses on me and I wish I could put a bullet through his head. It would be for every woman he’s ever wronged.
Since I trust every word Cole has ever uttered, I take my eyes off Devon and look at Randolph and Wendy. Devon’s exhale doesn’t go unheard.
He knows. At least for now. Because I would never allow him out of my sight if I thought he were a threat.
I’m trusting he isn’t.
And look who has her own weapon—the snake herself.
“You’re in too deep,” Cole grits in my ear. “We’re coming in. Be ready to hit the floor when I give you the word.”
Devon takes a casual step forward and throws me a glance before shaking his head. Then he reaches out and grabs me by the arm opposite my gun. I feign a struggle, knowing full well I could break free in a heartbeat. If there’s no gun trained on Devon right now, there’s a good reason for it—I’m trusting what I don’t have an explanation for.
“Told you she was on my trail.” Devon tips his head to me before looking back at Wendy. “You’re an embarrassment to your agency, Sisson. I wouldn’t need to be here if you could carry out a simple operation. And you.” Devon moves his gaze to the Senator. “These worthless pieces of shit reflect on you. If you can’t cover my arse, find yourself another manager to fuck shit up around the world.”
“We can’t exactly make people disappear Stateside like we do in the field,” Wendy defends herself and waves her gun around.
I try to pull my arm out of Devon’s hold for show. His grip isn’t angry or murderous, but protective. If I were anywhere else at the moment, I’d breathe a sigh of relief.
“I know you,” Randolph doesn’t take his eyes off me.
“You think?” I spout. “Maybe you should keep your willy tucked away long enough to worry about the fact Marie Kasey will soon be questioned by someone much higher than the D.C. police.”
“Fuck.” His face transforms into the murderous killer he is as he reaches into his jacket, producing his own weapon.
Devon flinches and angles me behind him.
“Hang tight, sweetness,” Cole whispers in my ear. “We’re almost in position.”
Devon stares at Randolph and grits, “See what I mean? I told you to take care of her and you couldn’t make it happen. I want my money back. I’m out.”
Wendy shakes her head. “No one leaves once they’re in. Not alive, anyway.”
“You don’t know who you’re dealing with.” Devon grips my arm, giving me a shake before turning his attention back to Randolph. “How far do you plan to take this when your innocent attacks don’t get any attention anymore? Will everything be like Spain?”
“Devon,” I breathe as light as I can and try to flip my hair to cover my mouth. “They’re coming.”
Devon doesn’t move a muscle and holds me close.
“Whatever it takes,” Randolph confirms callously and I hold my breath. “Loss of life is a part of war—it can’t be helped.”
If I hold my words any longer, bile will rise in their place. “Your war is contrived for personal gain. You’re a cold, calculating murderer.”
Randolph has no reaction other than the tip of his head when a light hits his eyes. “You’re the woman from the fundraiser. Couldn’t get my mind off you for days. Got to say, like you better as a brunette.”
“You’ll suffer for what you’ve done,” I spit back.
“You came to the wrong place, Ms. Donnelly.” Wendy takes a few steps, the click, click, click of her low-heeled shoes might as well be a gong in the heavy air. “You see, we might not be able to do whatever we want in the States, but here—” she waves her gun around again “—in the privacy of this sanctuary, I can get away with a lot.”
Randolph steps in next to her and pushes Wendy’s arm down to lower her weapon. “I’ll deal with her myself.”