Page 143 of Spies Don’t Fall for Their Best Friend

They grab her fast, and she fights. Of course she fights. She drives an elbow backward, drops her weight, and kicks hard enough that the man stumbles. I’ve never been so proud and terrified at the same time.

“Zoom in on the woman,” I say.

Charlie does. The image isn’t very sharp, but I have no problem recognizing the woman who had been wearing the camel-colored coat at the hangar. The one who had been evaluating Maxwell and had planted the tracker in my jacket. She’s got different hair, but I can tell it’s the same face. Every last bit of hope that this is unrelated dies.

The hangar. They took her because of the hangar. Because of Maxwell. “They have her because of me.”

No one responds because there is nothing to say.

This is the exact thing I’ve been afraid of for years. Of someone I love being dragged into a vehicle because my work put her in the path of dangerous people. I spent five years telling myself I was protecting Reese by keeping one part of myself outside our friendship. Then I let her in, and less than two weeks later, someone takes her.

My chest is too tight. I can’t breathe. “I’m going after her.”

“No,” Charlie says, “we are. Rooke doesn’t know Reese is connected to Maxwell.”

That actually stops me.

“If he did,” the director says, “the transfer would be dead. You—Maxwell— would be dead.”

I know. Of course, I know.

“She’s the unexplained civilian from the hangar,” Emerson adds. “If you abandon the transaction when she disappears...”

“Then we are handing them the connection,” I say, my voice sounding like it’s not even coming from me.

Nora nods. “And if Maxwell disappears, Rooke will just choose the next bidder, and the roster will go to someone we haven’t controlled.”

Six living assets would remain exposed. Rooke would disappear again. And Reese would still be in his hands. Every instinct in me is screaming for me to go find her. To get her back. That’s what I do—I find people. I read situations. I get through doors that other people can’t. I make things happen instead of standing still while they happen to me.

Except going after Reese myself might be the worst thing I could possibly do. I hate this more than I’ve ever hated anything.

Ledger steps off the elevator with an equipment bag, and his eyes meet mine.

“Get her,” I say, my voice rough.

He nods once. “We will.”

He didn’t say he’d try or that he’d do everything he could. He said he will.

Charlie is at my side and touches my arm. I look at her, and she says, “When you’re in the field, and I’m on comms with you, you trust me when I tell you which hallway is clear, which door to take, and when to move.”

“Yes.”

“Then trust me now. Trust Ledger.”

I close my eyes, and all I can see is Reese in the garage. Her purse hitting the ground. Her fighting. Her getting forced into that van while I was standing here talking about payment channels. I open my eyes and say, “Please find her.”

“We will.”

My secure phone vibrates, and Nora looks down. “Location.”

It’s a private residence outside Frederick that’s owned by a holding company Emerson recognizes from one of Rooke’s legitimate client-service networks.

I look at the clock. We’ve got an hour.

The director meets my eyes. She still doesn’t order me to go to Rooke. She doesn’t have to.

Nora is already pulling up the property layout and working out where the external audio team will need to set up. If everything goes right, I’ll walk in completely clean while they listen undetected from the outside.