the other shooters were already advancing toward them.
Kelsey. He couldn’t see her.
“Back up, get behind that truck,” he yelled.
A small form darted ahead of him.
She was listening.
The tightness in his chest eased. She’d rarely outright refused to follow an order. It had happened, and he lived in fear of her going off on her own all the damn time.
Logan backed away, keeping eye contact with the advancing shooters.
They weren’t taking unnecessary shots. That was good. Could it be that whoever Skilton had hired possessed some sort of morals?
Logan reached the front of a truck parked along the curb and took a knee. He could still see at least one of the shooters, and that man was watching Logan.
“Think they’ll leave if they don’t find Dixon?” Kelsey asked.
“That or try to take one of us.” He’d rather it was him, but he couldn’t say that to her.
Gunshots ripped through the air one street over.
Logan flinched and prayed none of them found a target.
“The cops must be in on it now,” she said.
The trio reached the SUV and pulled the doors open.
“He’s not here,” one shouted.
“They’re American,” Kelsey muttered.
Sirens wailed in the distance.
All three shooters jumped.
“Command, the senator isn’t here. It was a decoy,” one of the men said into a radio.
Logan missed what the reply was, but all three turned and sprinted away.
“Damn.” He didn’t exactly relax, but he took a deep breath.
Kelsey twisted, putting her back to the truck’s grill and faced the other direction.
“Hey.” She smacked his arm. “There they go.”
He heard the squeal of tires as he turned, barely glimpsing the back end of a van making a hasty exit.
“What do you think—”
The rest of Kelsey’s question was cut off by a boom. It shook the truck. Glass windows broke. The sound took him back. And not to a good place.
“Fuck,” Logan spat and stood.
He kept his gun aimed at the ground as he jogged toward the intersection.
The van they’d clipped was a charred bonfire.
“What the hell?” Kelsey was right behind him.
“It must have not been able to keep up with the rest, so they destroyed it and any evidence inside,” he said.
It was smart. The kind of thing he’d do if he were in their shoes.
“Shit.” Kelsey shoved her gun into the holster. “Fuck.”
Logan reached over and pulled her to him.
They’d narrowly made it out of there. The margin didn’t change the fact that they were alive. And that was most important.
Now the question was, who was the mole? Who was the traitor?
MONDAY. TASK FORCE Headquarters. Washington, DC.
Nadine Baker had learned a long time ago that she could trust no one. She’d learned that lesson from her first husband, then again from her second partner at the CIA. Every few years in her twenties and thirties, it seemed she’d had to relearn the lesson.
Somewhere along the way, she’d finally gotten it right.
Right about now that beady eyed little bastard would be swinging by her office to help her escape. Only, she wasn’t waiting for him.
She boosted herself up onto the water tank of the toilet against the wall in the ladies’ bathroom. The small window was just eighteen by eighteen inches. She’d measured it early on and had taken the time staying late a few times to create her own exit.
There were regrets. She didn’t like what she’d been forced to do. Part of her genuinely liked these people. The moments when she’d been able to forget what she was really doing. Those were happy memories. But they were lies.
Skilton had her so tangled up, there was no escaping him. So this was her exit.
Nadine used the nail file to shift the pane of glass. Thanks to her earlier work, it popped out easily. She set it on the toilet seat, then took a deep breath.
Time to leave and shed this skin.
She was ready.
Nadine gripped the windowsill, then stepped on the flimsy trashcan bolted to the wall. It gave her just enough leverage to get her head and shoulders through the window. She tucked and let herself roll out.
It wasn’t a gentle landing, but it was a far cry better than what would happen to her if she stayed.
Any moment now they’d come looking for her. She’d known that email was possibly a trap. She’d also known there was no way out of the trap she’d caught herself in. Her only hope was that she could pass enough on to Skilton that he wouldn’t bother looking for her.
Hadn’t she given him enough over the years?
He’d bled her