Page 54 of Caged

She nodded. “When we get there we should leave our phones, IDs, credit cards, and personal items in the glove box. Just in case.”

“You think they’ll frisk us?”

“No, but it’s easier to lie if we’re telling the truth. I’ll feign forgetting my purse. You can come to the rescue with cash.”

“You don’t think they’ll question us both forgetting our wallets?”

“You’ll have yours, just not your ID or credit cards,” she said. “They won’t know what isn’t in your wallet unless they look over your shoulder.”

I pulled out my wallet and removed my military ID and bank card, putting them in my desk. Images flashed across my mind at the sight of my picture. My team was in the thickof things when I renewed, so I looked ragged and sloppy in my photo.

I bet Maxwell looks picture perfect in every ID photo she’s ever taken.I wonder if she has curls or waves. Does she straighten her thick red hair? I’d only seen it out of her trademark tight bun twice, and it was pulled back in a bouncy ponytail after being in a tight bun for hours.

“Let’s go.”

I felt naked not carrying my military ID. Instinctively, I reached for my dog tags, but they no longer hung around my neck. Five months out and I still reflexively reached for them in times of stress.

“How long did it take you to get used to not wearing your tags?”

“I’ll let you know when it happens,” I said, leaving my usual levity behind. I’d only taken them off three weeks ago.I wonder how long it took her?I didn’t ask, and she didn’t offer.

“I imagine it takes longer to adjust for Special Forces guys.”

I shrugged it off. “Maybe.” I didn’t want to talk about the customized dog tags I had to wear behind enemy lines. The ones that were the only personal item we carried with us. The ones that were the only way to identify one us if we got killed. The ones we clung to when we prayed.

Maxwell must have sensed I’d gone somewhere dark, because she lightened the mood by saying, “Come on, Henry. Let’s see if we can get you into a poker game.”

Shutting the memories down, I said, “Right behind you, Babe.” And blew her a kiss.

“This assignment will be the death of me,” she whispered. But not low enough.

“What was that, Snookems?”

“I just remembered the second thing.”

“What’s that, Sweetie Pie?”

“No pet names.”

I hung my head and frowned. Looking back up, I gave her my best puppy dog eyes, and said, “But…”

“Fine.” She conceded. “I’ll tolerate Babe, but nothing else.”

“Copy that. Babe.” I laughed. Ruffling Maxwell’s feathers was even more fun when she played along.

Maxwell went to the cleaners while I ran to the store to grab a coke. She wanted a couple of minutes alone with Adam, to feel him out. And, armed with our new intel, I wanted to see what I could see.

When I joined her, she introduced me to the manager.

Robert Roman.

He carried himself like a guy who knew he could get away with murder.

I guess having a criminal mastermind as an uncle does that to a guy.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Roman.” I stuck out my hand to shake his, and then fought the impulse to wipe my hands on my jeans.

“Honey, I was in such a rush that I forgot my purse. Can you pay for our laundry?”

---