Page 26 of Out of Control

Spencer looked up sharply, as if startled. And then one corner of his mouth turned down cynically.

“I want you to help me track down Hamza and company and put them down.”

“Just to be clear, you want us to kill them?” Spencer echoed.

“Correct.”

He nodded briskly as if the prospect didn’t bother him. “What else?”

“I want you to delay renditioning me until we’ve completed the job.”

“And then?”

Drago planted a hand on the granite bench and leaned back, staring up at the orange glow of the sky over Tel Aviv. It obscured all but the brightest stars. “In a perfect world, I’d take you to my bed and fuck you until neither one of us can walk. And then we’d sleep and you’d fuck me senseless. You’d tell me why you ran away that morning, and we would discover that we’ve both grown up and are ready for what we couldn’t handle the last time around.”

“Anything else?” Spencer’s voice sounded strangled, but otherwise it was completely unreadable, and frustration roiled in Drago’s gut.

“Yeah. I’d rather you didn’t turn me in to the folks at Langley. I’d like a chance to explain to them why I went off the books and took out Kurbaj without permission. That he’s really Jabril Hamza. Ideally, this time they’ll believe me and forgive me for taking action without an official sanction, given the target. He is, after all, still a wanted terrorist.”

“That’s quite a wish list you’ve got there.”

“It’s only possible if you’ll help me. What do you say, Spencer? Will you do it?”

Spencer stared back at Drago. “So in other words, you want me to actually destroy my career to save yours?”

“No! That’s not it at all. I want you to help me redeem both of us. Both of our careers. Let’s set right the mistake we made ten years ago.”

“Which mistake would that be? Getting into a relationship? Letting you distract me from properly doing my job? Or are you referring to the part where you messed with my head and nearly destroyed my life back then too?”

SPENCER GLAREDas Drago’s gaze fell away from his. Uh-huh. That’s what he thought. Drago was only looking out for his own ass. He didn’t give a damn about anyone but himself. His obsession.

“Look, Spencer. I’m not going to apologize for falling for you. Nor for wanting to be with you. And you distracted me as fully as I distracted you.”

“So it’s my fault all these people died?” he snapped. He might privately believe that, but hearing Drago accuse him of it pissed him off.

“No. It’s Jabril Hamza’s fault. And I need you to help me find him and make him pay.”

“Give it up, Drago. It’s water under the bridge. We missed the signs of what they were planning. The bombing happened, and nothing we can do will change that.”

“Don’t you want justice? You, of all people? Captain Do-The-Right-Thing-At-All-Costs? What the hell happened to you? When did you lose your moral compass?”

“I have one job to do here. And I’m fucking going to do it. I’m bringing you in—”

Drago surged to his feet, and Spencer did the same. So much tension crackled between them that he honestly thought Dray might take a swing at him. The guy’s fist was balled up by his right hip as if he was thinking about it too.

“Here it is,” a loud voice announced behind them.

Spencer whirled around to face the new threat.

A large group of people who looked to be in their twenties—and very, very drunk—stumbled into the memorial. Jesus. How had a crowd that big managed to sneak up on him without him noticing?

Several raised their voices over the general din, declaring that they had relatives enshrined here and demanding the help of the others in finding the names. The group bomb-bursted, filling the space with bodies and talk and laughter.

He turned back around to suggest to Drago that they get out of here—

Sonofabitch.

Drago was gone.

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