Page 92 of Out of Control

Drago clarified, “Before we do this, you do understand what you’re suggesting, right? You want to bring down the CIA and a terrorist group on our heads all at once.”

“Correct.”

“Do you have a death wish?” he blurted.

One corner of Spencer’s mouth turned up wryly. “Not anymore. You cured me of that.”

“So you do admit you’ve had a death wish in the past?”

Spencer answered more seriously than he’d expected. “Especially in the past few years. I had no idea how burned-out I’d gotten, how unhappy I was, until you came back into my life, to be honest.”

Praise the Lord and pass the potatoes.Spencer had an ounce of self-awareness after all. There was hope for the guy yet.

Spencer drummed his fingers on the table. “I assume we’re not going to attempt this showdown in the middle of Paris?”

Drago grunted. “I should think not. Let’s not kill civilians, shall we?”

“Do you know a place outside Paris, someplace not too hard to get to from here?”

He grinned. “My dear sir. I haven’t been in this business for this long for nothing. I have contacts. Plenty of contacts. Several of them have delightful country places outside of the city.”

“But first we head for your flat.”

“Right.”

Spencer smiled. “Good. I’m ready to have my own gear back.”

“I’m ready to have my life back.”

“Getting tired of being under a rendition order?”

“Wouldn’t you be?”

“Yeah. I would. You’ve been a lot more patient about it than I expected.”

His gaze snapped up to Spencer’s. “Thanks.”

They traded warm looks that said more than any words. They were in this together. To the end. Spencer had fully embraced the fact that Drago was innocent and had been set up. And last night’s events effectively proved it.

“Let’s go bait that hook for the CIA mole.”

As they stood in front of Drago’s apartment door an hour later, Spencer murmured, “And you’re sure it was the agency who bugged your place?”

“They are the only people in the world besides you who know I own this place. Ithadto be someone on the inside.”

“All right, then. Let’s go talk plans where Hamza’s mole can hear.”

Drago unlocked the door and stepped onto the stage that his flat had become. He headed for the kitchen and picked up his cell phone, still plugged into its charger. The screen announced that he had eight messages. For a phone that had a brand-new phone number he’d only given to one person, that was impressive. What did Charles Favian have to tell him that was so urgent?

He texted Charles’s number.What’s up?

Film came in last night of you shooting a US intelligence asset.

“Aww, fuck me,” he exclaimed.

“What?”

“Look at this.” He showed the text to Spencer, who also swore.

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