her chest.
She’d never forget walking into that tent alongside two women she didn’t know well. The first man who’d noticed them was the big, quiet guy stretched out on a cot holding pen and paper. He had large, brown soulful eyes and a medium brown hair cut close to his scalp. He’d glanced up at her—actually met her eyes—and nodded. That was Elias. He took everything in stride and waited to judge people based on their actions.
It was a simple gesture, and yet it had set the tone for everything else. Sure, there’d been some awkwardness in the beginning. It had passed quickly, and they’d all settled into a rhythm.
Jo would never say she enjoyed her military career. For her, it was a necessary step. A way out of a toxic family environment that was slowly killing her. It was a means to an end. And along the way, she’d found a family of sorts. Though after Elias’ discharge things had shifted. He likely didn’t know it, but he’d been their linchpin.
She’d be lying to herself if she didn’t admit that seeing him again would be a good thing. Since his accident, she’d only seen him like once a year. Not enough in her book. Funny how he still mattered to her after so long.
In truth, she should be surprised he still remembered her. He likely had no idea how much he’d meant to her. It wasn’t like they’d talked a lot. She’d always gravitated toward him. And then he’d been gone.
Now she was dragging her mess to him.
If he could just help them get out of the airport, she could handle the rest.
Isaac stepped in front of her. He wasn’t a big man, but he had that murderous look on his face. “What the fuck are we doing, Jo?”
“Waiting on a ride, I trust. Now, keep your head down.”
Isaac glanced over his shoulder. They were both keeping clear of windows and doors. “And what? Giving them time to team up? We need to move now. Or it’ll be our heads that roll.”
“Not yet. We step foot out there now and we’re sitting ducks. It’s too late, too much open space.”
Jo itched to have another look. She’d spied two different vehicles just sitting and waiting. For what?
In her line of work, she couldn’t afford to overlook coincidence. It often wasn’t what it appeared to be.
There were three different options that came to mind when she asked herself what the worst-case scenario was with their watch dogs. First, the most obvious was that the people waiting for her were the same ones she was supposed to be watching. Either because they suspected her, or because they wanted to eliminate her from the running. Then there was the risk that whoever that was, they were an enemy. Some unknown third party looking to cut in. There was always the risk that they were FBI or cops who’d happened on a tip, and this was a case of wrong fucking place, wrong fucking time for her.
None of those were good.
She checked her watch.
Elias hadn’t given her an estimate. She had no idea when he might show up. She was beyond grateful he hadn’t asked her for more details while they were on the phone. There was only so much she could say in front of Isaac without setting him off. He didn’t know she was undercover FBI, and he couldn’t or he’d kill her.
The little she knew about Elias’ current employment was that he was still doing sales work, but this time for a company called Aegis Group. Jo didn’t know much about them, except they seemed to be one of those security firms that had cropped up in the last twenty years. She wished she’d have had time to do some research, but time was a luxury she didn’t have.
“We need to go,” Isaac said again.
“We wait for our ride. There’s no way we get out of here otherwise.”
“How did they get here so fast? And how did they know where we’d be? We need to move, Jo. I’m serious.”
“Whoever is out there, either they had a line on a private plane or maybe they were already on this side of the country. Maybe they aren’t even our people? Maybe they’re someone’s hired muscle to clear the path? I don’t know, and I’d like to not find out.” She forced herself to stand a little straighter and braver than her true feelings.
The reality was she didn’t know who was out there. One