Page 107 of Long Past Deadly

The words landed hard, mixing with every bit of crap she was trying to keep under wraps.

“He’s not reacting.” Mac moved them around a group of men, giving them a hard eye. “He’s choosing, Alanna. The only variable in this equation is us.”

A wave of premonition swept over her. She crossed her arms tight. “So what is this? Bait and hope?”

“This is precision.” Mac slowed them as they closed in on the final blocks, pointing down the street. “You step into the alley, you’re the draw. Everything we’ve built comes to this moment.” His sharp, direct gaze on her reminded her of a training instructor she’d had at Quantico. He’d been a demanding son of a bitch.

She stayed silent, listening.

“But understand something, Doc. If you hesitate, if you second guess, if you let him get inside your head for even a second…”

“I won’t.”

“You don’t get to say that,” he interrupted, not harsh and angry, just direct. “You decide if you’re steady enough to do it. You.”

Silence stretched between them, feet eating up the distance to the alley. Mac constantly rotated his focus, studying the street, the people, the businesses, the threats.

She let his words settle. “This isn’t about being angry enough to face him, is it?” Truthfully, she’d been managing by assuming it was. But the truth rang in her voice, in her psyche, in her determination. “It’s about being disciplined enough to finish it.”

Mac tipped a head, not agreeing or disagreeing – just letting her absorb the message. “Stay focused on your discipline, the law, everything you’ve learned as an active FBI agent. We don’t go in half-committed. That’s how people die, and I won’t have my friend mourning your death. Not happening.”

She stopped short of the alley and gazed at him, debating how much to say. Her heart ached at his simple statement, and she stumbled over how to explain herself.

Mackey patted her shoulder. “Don’t bother. He’s crazy about you, and it also shows from your end. You two have no idea what your body language is saying.”

She found a small smile, but swore silently at the blush spreading over her cheeks. “He’s pretty special to me.”

“Let’s don’t blow it, then.”

“Promise. No quitting. No stopping. No failure.”

He nodded, satisfied with his pep talk. It had been a good one. “Let’s plant this message and blow this popsicle stand. Quaid’s waiting.”

“Have we put out enough?”

“We don’t need a billboard or a ticker tape parade. He is watching, and now we’ve got him curious. He’ll seek out what we’re doing. Let’s go back to homebase and get prepped. My gut says soon. And I always listen to my gut.”

“Me, too. I’m with you.”

They planted the message next to the little yellow painted flowers. Alanna mourned her friend for short seconds, then put it away. She couldn’t delve into that memory and keep her discipline. And the team was depending on her to finish this.

“Let’s go, Mac. We have other stuff to do.”

He followed her to the car, but unlike Quaid, he got in the front with Bailey and left her in the back – sorting through his advice and making silent promises to Quaid she hoped she could keep.

&&&&&&&&&&

Spending part of the morning signing contracts, arguing on the phone with their Dubai client who wanted to go back in country, and hanging up from a call with a government source with questionable information on another case pushed Quaid’s dicey mood to testy. He’d been all over the world in difficult, secret circumstances and held his own. Not today.

Elizabeth reminded him they had a business to run this morning and like a good schoolteacher made him take a seat and tend to it. Between rich businessmen who believed the rules didn’t apply to them to Seth Tenney blowing up his phone, he’d had enough. Could he admit he was worried about Alanna being on those streets alone? Yes. Not that he didn’t trust Mac. He did. But he wanted hands on.

Distracted and not giving a fuck, Quaid pasted on a smile and didn’t pretend it meant a damn thing. Seth Tenney stood over six feet, lean and polished, and was a man who expected attention and usually got it. It worked on most people, but put Tenney up against Zephren Patton and it was like comparing Mac to a green recruit. Rich people had their tier levels, too.

“I’m spending all this money, and all you’ve done is review what’s already been reported? I saw the news. Rumors are you’re in the center of some manhunt.” Seth shifted the seams of his expensive slacks. Quaid hadn’t changed from his camouflage pants. They were still dusty from training time. God, it was good to get back in a real uniform. Something honest with some integrity behind it.

He leaned back in his executive chair, staring at the man across the flat, clean surface of his formal desk. What wouldn’t he give for a War Table here. “We’re always working on something else, Seth, and we always verify what the police have found.” Quaid’s expression stayed bland, neither bothered nor interested in explaining their case matrix. Tenney didn’t like being called by his first name, but Quaid dismissed his displeasure. It was past time for the deference to end and reality to take precedent.

Seth’s mouth firmed and he puffed up, the coming threat as obvious as the red in his face.