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“I’m on it.”
And when Kira was on something it could only be described as rabid. She’d have everything there was to find on Patricia Sawiris within twenty-four hours and she wouldn’t sleep a wink while she hunted for intel. This would drive her husband Cooper around the bend, but he’d stay up all night with her making sure she augmented her caffeine consumption with food and water.
“Do we have anything else on this fuckwit? I’m not feeling warm and fuzzy he’s out there planning a terrorist attack.”
Nebraska held Zane’s stare.
My gut tightened and I braced.
That look said I wasn’t going to like what was coming next.
“Maddon sold a blank sale of goods. A theory. A theory that would easily cripple the US but the last I knew he hadn’t handed over the innards. Without those plans and connections the Chinese just have an outline.”
“The Chinese don’t need more than an outline. Haven’t you heard they’re the king of the reverse engineer?” Zane’s tone was full of heavy sarcasm.
“You don’t say,” Nebraska returned in kind and my lips twitched. “That’s why I need to head out and hit up a few contacts.”
There it was.
It wasn’t that I didn’t like what she had to say—I fucking hated it. Before I could get a lock on it—not that I tried very hard because that shit would’ve been a wasted effort—I let it rip.
“That’s not happening.”
Lightning quick, Nebraska’s head swung to the side. Her blue eyes danced with fire when those pretty lips opened and spewed venom.
“What’s not happening now or ever is you telling me what I will and won’t be doing. No one, not anyone, tells me how to do my job. Period.”
“Guess, I was hasty in collecting on my win,” Cash muttered.
“You’re taking Easton with you,” Zane decreed.
That was something but not enough.
“That’s not—”
Zane didn’t let her finish.
“Jesus fu…” he abruptly stopped, his eyes swinging to the door. “Fudgeycakes.” He hilariously if not disturbingly finished.
All eyes went to the door.
Ivy was standing there with a baby bundled up in her arms, Eric, Robbie, and Asher at her side. A smirk playing at her lips, eyes dancing with humor, Zane’s wife was a knockout. She also kept Zane on a short leash. A leash he’d chained around his own neck and happily handed her the lead. I figured his wife was the only person who could make Zane come to heel and curtail his use of profanity in front of their children and his nephews.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she said, humor lacing her tone. “Linc, Jasmin had to run out to meet an informant on a case so she left the boys with me. I’m headed home and taking them with me. Also, Badger called. He’s been trying your cell but you’re not answering. I told him you were in the middle of something. He asked me to interrupt and tell you he has a lock on the target.”
I heard Nebraska draw in a sharp breath. The rest of the occupants in the room stayed seated but became alert. Save Linc and Zane; they stood and shuffled toward the door.
“Get Cujo and Chewy to the car and get back up here,” Zane ordered.
“I’m gonna punch you in the junk if you don’t stop calling my boys those stupid names,” Linc groused.
“I can go back to semen demons,” Zane magnanimously offered.
I didn’t catch Lincoln’s response but I did hear Cash ask, “Are we not going to discuss fudgeycakes?”
I wasn’t, not right then. I filed that away to give my boss shit about when he annoyed me, and turned to Nebraska.
“Hey.”
