Page 28 of The Mouse and the Maestro

That gave him pause. “To get information out of me,” he said triumphantly.

“So the last ninety minutes of cradling your unconscious form on top of me until my arms went numb and useless, that’s all part of my master plan to interrogate you. Wow, I’m really good. I have to say, I’m impressed by me. I didn’t think I had it in me.”

He squinted, beginning to doubt the validity of his thought processes. He had been suspicious of her from the beginning. She had fed those suspicions with a few little things she’d said, but mostly with her complete lack of virtual footprint, something he found too odd to accept. “You apologized, and then the men took me. There’s no way out of that one.”

“Except there completely is,” she said, and now she sounded irked.

“What?”

“I’m not telling,” she said.

“Why would you not? Because it’s a lie?”

“No, because it’s embarrassing and you don’t deserve to hear it,” she said.

“You might as well tell me,” he said. What else did they have to do alone in the darkness of wherever they were?

She was silent for so long he didn’t think she would continue, but eventually she did. “I was trying to say I was sorry for spraying you in that elevator. I was going to say I wish I had kissed you instead. But then I saw the men. They knocked you out, apparently before you heard my screams. They gagged me and loaded us into the trunk of a car. You were unconscious;I was not. You were bound; I was not. I screamed and fought them, but there are two of them, and I weigh a hundred pounds. And they told me if I didn’t stop fighting them, they would kill you, that it was me they were after, and you were expendable. So I stopped fighting, and here we are.”

Oh. Uh-oh. It seemed he had made a huge mistake, but he only had her word for it. For all he knew, people could be in the room with them right now, watching through night vision goggles, waiting for him to crack, to confess. He was in possession of a mountain of secrets, missile sites, codes, online security, hacks he had personally perpetrated on other countries, on other world leaders, viruses he had created and distributed to take down entire networks of known enemies. In terms of sensitive information, he was a treasure trove. Was he really supposed to believe this was all about Jane? That she was the intended target of the kidnapping?

“What’s in your pockets?” she asked.

“What?” His brain was still sluggish from whatever they’d given him, his tongue thick and furry with it.

Jane sighed, her annoyance with him in every molecule of carbon dioxide expelled from her body. “Did you empty your pockets before you came to my room, or is there anything in them that can help us?”

“See, it’s things like that that make me suspicious,” he said. “We’ve supposedly been kidnapped, and you’re a civilian. Why aren’t you in freakout panic mode? Why are you the one thinking of ways to get us out?”

“Because someone has to do it, and you seem unwilling or unable.”

Ouch.She had a point, though. Technically, he was a trained agent. But outside of mandatory training, he had never been tested, never been put in a situation where he had to use his training. He could load, shoot, and clean a gun, but he did ittwice a year to qualify. He had memorized the basics of self-defense, but he’d never been in a compromising position where he needed to use them. And now that he was, an anthropologist was the one concocting a plan to get them out.

“I still have stuff in my pockets. There’s a flashlight on my keychain, on the right side.”

She reached for him, feeling around until she located him, but couldn’t get her hand inside his pocket. “Lie flat,” she directed. He lay down. She tried contorting her hand, but the angle was wrong, Eventually she had to lay on him in order to slip her fingers into his jeans to reach the keys.

Blue closed his eyes, breathing through his mouth. Why did she have to smell so good and feel so soft against his chest? Either she was a terrorist and couldn’t be trusted or she wasn’t, and he had ruined things with her forever. It was a lose-lose situation.

“Stop enjoying this,” Jane said, pushing against him to sit up again, keys in hand.

“Can’t help it,” he croaked. “You smell really good, and you’re wearing silk pajamas.”

“That’s the required dress code for all the terrorists in my cell,” she said, her tone dripping sarcasm. She located the flashlight on his keychain and shined it around the blackened interior where they were being kept. It was a large, cavernous space, far bigger than the reach of the flashlight. They were on a mattress on the floor, next to a wall. Across the room eyes peered at them, but they weren’t the eyes of people. For one thing they were too low to the ground, and for another they gleamed golden in the flashlight’s beam.Rats.Jane shuddered. She had spent years living in countries where rats were more than a nuisance; they were a danger. They had to get out of this place before the rats discovered them and came closer for a taste.

“Can you stand?” she asked.

“I won’t know until I try,” Blue said. “Hold on a sec.” He wriggled his bound hands around his legs, bringing them to the front. It wasn’t as good as being untied, but it was better. Somehow he knew that if Ridge or Ethan were in this position, they would already be out of the ropes and in charge of the scene. They would likely break their thumbs to get out of the bindings or some other super spy nonsense. Blue wasn’t willing to go to those lengths to prove his masculinity, but he did want to have his hands available in case he needed them. Tentatively, he scooted off the bed and wobbled to a standing position.

Jane stood beside him, cocking her head to listen. “The water sounds like it’s behind us, meaning we should go the opposite direction.”

“Right,” Blue agreed, though he hadn’t given it a thought. He felt confused, disoriented, unable to focus. He hoped it was because of the drugging and not because he was inherently bad at this aspect of being an agent. Jane, on the other hand, was taking charge as if she were the female Jack Reacher.Or like a spy who’s had training.He pushed that thought aside. Following her was better than remaining on the mattress and, for the moment, she seemed to be on the level and trying to get them out.

“I’m going to hold on to you so we don’t get separated in the darkness. This is merely a precaution and not some terrorist tactic to try and overtake you,” Jane warned, grasping his forearm.

“Should I expect everything you say from now on to be tinged with anger and sarcasm?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” she replied.

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