Page 16 of Redemption

“No, but I didn’t think you’d dig in this hard. We’ve been in here for nearly two hours trying to hash out a compensation plan that works for both of us. I’ve gone down as far as I’m authorized to go.”

“So, call your boss and get approved for the right deal.”

“I only got a deal this good because we’d been advised you’d be an ‘absolute dickhead’ to negotiate with.”

“I do enjoy it when my reputation precedes me. Makes things easier.”

“Usually, probably.” He eyes me. “I didn’t want to go here because it sets a poor tone for our working relationship, but you’ve left me no option.”

The guard radios to ask for permission to enter. I wave to the warden to get on with it.

“There was an explosion in Cape Verde last week.” Zahir meets my gaze.

For the first time since we started speaking, my heart thumps with dread. I hold up a hand to the warden to stall the guard. “If you had anything to do with that”—I lean across the desk, getting in his face—“I’ll fucking kill you right now.”

To his credit, he doesn’t flinch at my threat. “We didn’t.” He settles into his chair and examines me. “We both know it wasn’t a gas leak.”

“What’s your point?”

“You’re in here. She’s out there. That little boy is out there.” He gives me a meaningful look but doesn’t continue his line of logic.

“If I’m out there working for you, I’m not protecting her anyway.” My one hesitation in calling Zahir was the realization I might be putting her in more danger out there than I am in here. If I can get out of my sentence, when this trade-off is complete, I’ll be able to protect her from whatever is inching closer.

“Here’s the information we have—and I’m giving you this as a show of good faith. Carys started receiving packages at her various houses close to a year ago. Inside each package was an alarm clock, and each had a reference to time running out. Then, the day the FBI raided her Chicago office, a confetti bomb was delivered to her. It had already exploded when we entered.”

I stiffen at the new information. She didn’t tell me about any fake device in her office. Granted we were busy trying to get her out of jail, but if there was a looming threat, I should have been told. Maybe we wouldn’t be in this position now.

“The bomb at her hotel was set off on a holiday when there would be a minimal number of staff. It wasn’t strong enough to kill anyone or even to do significant damage to the building. An inconvenience.” He pauses and meets my gaze. “A warning.”

Carys’s broken wrist was more than an inconvenience. My nostrils flare.

“Whoever is after her, they’re escalating. Not quickly, but it’s happening.”

He doesn’t mention the shootout at Ricardo’s flophouse in Russia or the warehouse theft or how someone either in the PLA or associated with them framed Carys for crimes she didn’t commit. The threat isn’t just intensifying, it’s persistent and pervasive.

“So, somebody has put you over a barrel, but it’s not us. Doesn’t mean I won’t take advantage of it.” He presses on the desk with his index finger. “While you’re out there, you’ll be free to pursue whoever is coming for her. Obviously, not so much that you put your mission with us at risk, but you can help her. We won’t stop you.”

I sink into my chair across from him and cross my arms. Three years in here afterward is better than never being with Carys again, not being there to raise Lucas. The deal isn’t what I want, but I recognize I’ve got no more room to bargain.

“If you’re in here, you’re on the sidelines, watching her life potentially collapse around her. Out there, you can prop her up.”

He must not think he’s won me over, but he has. “Neither you nor the CIA has had anything to do with what’s happened to her so far?”

“No.” Zahir’s voice is firm. “We’re aware of everything because that’s our job, but we haven’t been party to any of it.”

I run a hand across the top of my shorn head and stare out the window. There’s no question I’m taking the deal, but I need a moment to reconcile the choice. “Will she know the escape will be hijacked?”

“No.” His voice is sharp. “She can’t be told. We must have every aspect of this appear as authentic as possible, or it’ll put our PLA agents in jeopardy.”

“She’ll track me down.” I’m not asking if I can tell her anything because I don’t care what they want. Once I’m out, I’m playing by my own rules.

“We’re anticipating that.”

“What’s that mean?”

“We’re okay with her showing up, that’s all.”

I narrow my eyes, my mind ticking through his phrasing. There’s something they’re not telling me. What aren’t they telling me? “That doesn’t add up to me.”

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