Page 8 of Fear No Evil

Hinton tacked on, “The FARC are going to march you deep into their territory in a remote mountainous region. They maystrip you of any possessions you carry, so weapons and cell phones are out. However, our intel suggests they’ll let you keep your passports and your boots.”

Maggie’s lips started to tingle‍—a telltale sign of an impending panic attack.Keep it cool.Glancing at Jake, she found him frowning at the tabletop.

Gordon added, “You don’t have to take this assignment if you’re not ready, Maggie.”

Her cheeks flamed as she fixed a chagrined stare at her boss and grappled with her rising panic. She had to be ready.

“Barnes and Howitz were colleagues of yours.” Gordon’s words echoed the thoughts in Maggie’s head. “So I thought I’d give you first crack at this.”

A thought occurred to her. “Is Lieutenant Carrigan accompanying me for myprotection?” If she was going to get her moxie back, she had to do this on her own.

Gordon cocked his head at her indignant tone. “As it happens, Maggie, we’re also liaising with the Southern Command on this matter. SEALs from Team Six have already deployed to Bogotá. They’ve been setting up a Joint Intelligence Center at the American Embassy where they’ll track your progress via microchips implanted under your skin. While your job is to discover everything you can about the FARC, including Howitz and Barnes’s exact location, the SEALs’ job is to extract the hostages, if and when UN negotiations fail.”

Jake finally spoke up. “How do I pass on this intel without a phone or radio?”

Hinton gestured dismissively. “We’ll cover that later. In addition to finding Barnes and Howitz’s location, we want all the intel you can acquire on the FARC’s present circumstances. Do they have any allies? How well-armed are they? How many do they number, and what are their vulnerabilities? Go ahead andopen your envelopes.” He slid two envelopes across the glossy table, one for her and one for Jake.

Quelling the tremor in her fingers, Maggie freed the flap on her envelope and shook out the passport inside. After cracking the cover, she assimilated her new legend with a thrill of excitement and a renewed sense of calm. This was a familiar process, taking on a fresh identity fraught with nuanced details, quickly internalized, and then worn like a second skin.

The name beside her photograph was Madeleine Martin Cotillard. At least she would respond immediately to someone calling her name. She glanced up at Jake. What washisname? The pages of her passport, heavily stamped, indicated extensive service to the United Nations Department of Peace Operations. According to the legend sheet that came with the passport, she was an associate human affairs officer working for the UN Secretariat and living in New York City, married to Jacques Matis Cotillard‍—so that was Jake’s new name.

How ironic they were posing as a married couple. She shot a glance at his left hand‍—no ring, thank goodness. At least she wouldn’t be filling another woman’s shoes.

The resignation in Jake’s otherwise deadpan expression suggested he’d already known what his legend would be.

So be it. She and Jake were professionals with a job to do. Even if he were married, that wouldn’t change anything‍—except he wasn’t married,Buíochas le Dia.

Hinton sat back in his chair while eyeing them over his reading glasses. “Well, I’m sure you have a million questions, so let’s get started.”

An hour later, Maggie followed a grimly silent Jake down the hall toward the elevators. He hadn’t said much more than a “yes, sir” for the last half hour, yet after reaching the elevator and stabbing the down arrow, he swung around to face her, and the worry carving a line between his eyebrows was apparent.

Maggie drew a tight breath, marshaling her courage. They needed to clear the air if they were going to work together, let alone act like a loving married couple. “Would you like to go out for a drink or something? We have a lot of catching up to do.”

His gaze narrowed slightly. “We’re going to dinner in two hours.” Charles had instructed them to meet him at the restaurant in their hotel, which told her Jake was staying there, too. Over dinner, they would practice their new roles as Monsieur and Madam Jacques Cotillard. She hoped Jake’s French was better.

Rebuffed, Maggie tried a different tactic. She notched her hands at her waist. “What’s the matter, Jake? Never worked with a woman before?”

His gaze slid over her. “Why are you so thin?”

The unexpected question shocked her into silence. Heat seared her cheeks, no doubt turning her face beet red. “I run.” She spoke the words through her clenched teeth. Not even her therapist knew how much she ran‍—fifty miles a week, sometimes more.

Jake’s frown grew less severe. “You can’t run in the mountains, Lena‍—they’re too steep. So what are you going todo?”

Did he know about her diagnosis? The concern in his gentle gaze made her stand taller. She shrugged dismissively. “Not run, I guess.”

To her surprise, Jake raked a hand through his brown hair, betraying frustration. “I want you to turn down this assignment.”

The words had her taking a tiny step backward. “Do what?”

“You’re not ready, Lena.”

She gasped, offended, even though his words echoed what her own mind was telling her. “You don’tknowme. You don’t know if I’m ready or not!”

His mouth firmed. Calm as always, he spoke without raising his voice above a murmur. “I know what you went through in Morocco. I can tell just by looking at you that this assignment is going to set you back.Please, turn it down.”

Was he only worried about her? Maybe he thought she would blow the operation for everyone‍—not just for Howitz and Barnes, but for the SEALs, too.

What if he was right? Discouragement threatened to undermine her wavering confidence. Unwilling for him to see it, she whirled away from him, eschewing the elevator in favor of the fire exit immediately adjacent.

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