Hello My Angel - Sue Brown Page 0,8

was, and Mullins hadn’t introduced him. He’d just sat there, watching them spar, with a neutral expression on his face. “Who are you?” Josh asked.

“It’s not important,” Mullins said immediately.

“The head of the agency is kidnapped and some stranger is in the meeting?”

Cal squeezed Josh’s thigh. “I know who he is now.”

“You do?” Mullins looked shocked.

“Yes, I do. You’re right. It’s a good time for a break.”

He stood, and a bit bemused, Josh and Gil followed him out of the conference room back to floor five.

“Are you going to tell us who he is?” Josh asked as soon as the door closed behind them in what had been Jesse’s office.

“He’s a government spook.”

“What’s he doing here?”

“I’d say he’s waiting to see what happens.”

“They aren’t going to help?”

“Not overtly.”

Josh gave him the side eye. “What’s that code for?”

“It means if he does help us, it has to be under the radar.”

Josh grunted. Bloody typical of the Brits. They couldn’t just get on and do the job. They had to play bloody Secret Squirrel while they were at it. Josh liked ‘bloody’. He should use it more often. He yawned again and rubbed his eyes. “I need the bathroom. I’ll be back soon.”

He reached up to kiss Cal on the cheek. Cal made a soft noise under his breath and turned Josh in his arms to kiss him properly. Stubble rasped Josh’s cheeks and chin.

“You need a shave,” Josh said, patting Cal’s jaw.

“Yeah, and a change of clothes. Let’s talk to Rick, Dave, and Max. We need to work out some plan of campaign, then we’ll freshen up.” Cal brushed his lips over Josh’s. “I love you, Angel.”

“I love you too, my Charlie.”

Josh washed his hands and grimaced at the drawn, haggard man in the mirror. In the harsh, uncompromising light of the fifth-floor men’s bathroom at the agency, Josh was showing every single one of his thirty-two years. His eyes were red-raw and gritty, with dark smudges betraying his lack of sleep. Unsurprising as he’d been awake for over twenty-seven hours, and so far, twenty-four of them had been a series of unfortunate events he never wanted to repeat.

A crap-fucking-tastic day.

His appearance wasn’t helped by the fact he was still wearing the suit he’d worn to the funeral. Josh sniffed it, grimacing at the acrid stink of smoke. He itched to be showered and in clean clothes.

The door of the bathroom opened but he didn’t look round until the newcomer spoke five words Josh didn’t want to hear.

“Josh, we’ve got a problem.”

He wasn’t surprised to see the fierce-looking bald guy in a badly tailored gray suit.

“Just the one?” he asked Rick, his tone dry.

Rick pulled a face. “One you need to know about. Cal’s not on the premises.”

“What do you mean, not on the premises? Is this some bullshit for he’s gone to get coffee? Because, you know, that’s not a problem.”

“I mean he’s been thrown out of the building by security. And so has Gil.”

Josh knew he was tired, but he was sure Rick had just told him Cal and Gil had been ejected from the agency. He stared at Rick’s reflection in the mirror. The bald-headed man looked as exhausted as he did. “Mullins?”

Rick’s expression was grim. “Yeah.”

Josh stormed into Weatherly’s office without knocking, ignoring Mullins spluttering at him, and stalked over to the desk. It hadn’t taken Mullins long to make himself comfortable in Lucinda Weatherly’s large office which took up one half of the top floor.

“What are you doing here, Cooper?” Mullins barked.

But he didn’t have the stones to throw Josh out. As far as Josh was concerned that was one of the many, many reasons Mullins would make a lousy head of agency. Weatherly would have picked Josh up with one hand and personally heaved him out the door.

“What do you mean Cal’s services are no longer required?” Josh leaned over the desk of the acting head of the agency.

“Sit down, Mr. Cooper.” Edwin Mullins pursed his lips together in annoyance.

Josh scowled at him, then took his seat in the leather chair opposite. He should’ve expected Mullins to squirm his way up here. Nevertheless, it offended Josh to the core. Mullins was an immaculately dressed man with handsome features if you liked weasels. He didn’t deserve the office. He didn’t—what odd phrase had Sir Gideon used?—cut the mustard. That was it. He didn’t cut the mustard.

Unaware of Josh’s silent censure, Mullins steepled his bony fingers and continued. “His assignment, such as it was, is finished, and