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“So, you haven’t checked in with our friends.”
“Negative.” He’d had no contact with Mina, Dagger, or anyone on the team. “Too risky.”
The only reason he’d contacted me now was to follow Tracker Team’s protocol. When the shit got hot, we had to provide proof of life to someone on the team. I guessed that, for King, this meant me. There was no good news coming from him, no new orders to mobilize.
“What do you need?” I asked.
“I’m good,” he said, lying through his teeth. “You’ve got your hands full.”
“Fuck.” Feeling stuck and frustrated, I almost kicked the nearby recycling bin. Instead, I tightened my grip on the phone. “Is your situation about a cold-blooded creature?”
“I can’t think of anyone else who’d be so interested in a pair of peace-loving women.”
Shit.
I paced, five steps one way, five steps the other. Given our route exiting Nicaragua, I wasn’t surprised Bekker had guessed the nuns’ destination, but he had balls showing up in Costa Rica, risking his ass when he knew the authorities had his face plastered all over.
“I don’t like it,” I said. “This all stinks of some sort of setup. You were supposed to be here.”My damn backup,I didn’t say.
“I also made a promise that I would take care of the cargo. Can’t move your way at this point. So, you’re it,” King added. “And you’re good enough to do the job.”
“Thanks for the pep talk,” I spat wryly. “I’d like to go on along hike away from here, but I was told to stay put. I’m fucking tired of sitting on my ass all day. I could use some action right about now.”
A glance at Missy had me seeing in shades of crimson. I wanted to break out of my tight skin, and go hunting: Bekker, anybody, anything. I needed an outlet for my frustration. On the dance floor, Pierre planted a smooch on Missy’s lips and so did Gerard. She threw her head back and laughed, exposing her smooth, kissable throat. I wasn’t able to contain the roar that rattled in my throat.
“What’s up, bro?” Curiosity sharpened King’s voice. “You sound stressed.”
“I’m fine.”
“I don’t buy it,” he said. “Things not going your way?”
“I’m on ice,” I spat. “I don’t like to sit like a fucking duck.”
“I got five mikes to spare,” he said. “Is this about the honeymoon suite?”
Shit. “I’ve got nothing to say.”
“Don’t be a jerk,” King said. “Is it about your passenger?”
The ape was a human radar. He was also like a dog with a bone. When he fixed on something, he didn’t let go.
“Talk to me,” King said. “Is it?”
“Yes.” I shocked myself with the admission. “But it ain’t gonna happen.”
“Why not?” King asked.
“You know why,” I snapped. “You think I’m a screw up, but I’m a professional.”
“That’s not what I—”
“I’m a professional, and she’s my cruise passenger.”
“Cruise” was code for the mission and “passenger” was code for Missy. King and I knew better than to mention her name even over a secure line.
“Fair,” he accepted quietly. “Is she gonna be yourpassenger forever?”
“Wait. What?” I glanced at my cell, wondering if I’d heard him wrong before I returned the thing to my ear. “You’re the straightest arrow I know, well, except for a certain second with a baritone bark, of course. Are you encouraging me to break the rules and act unprofessionally?”
