Page 50 of Ozzie

“Lightning, Ozzie, this is my associate, Clive,” Harding says.

We shake hands as I take in the fact that he’s wearing asuit, has no accent, and appears to be in his late twenties. I’d say he’s a fellow CIA agent.

“I have a place you can all stay while you wait for your flight,” Clive says.

I turn to Harding. “Did you set up a plane?”

She nods. “I did, but it’s currently stuck in Romania due to the snow and ice.”

“Can’t you get a different one?” I ask.

Harding frowns. “My other contact with a plane is deep in Syria right now and not taking calls.”

I sigh. “Sorry. I’m being impatient.”

“Why don’t you call her? Check in.”

It’s morning in New York, but she’d likely be awake by now. I give Harding a nod. “Thanks. I will.”

Normally, I wouldn’t call until we were back in the States and the assignment had ended. But with Harding’s okay, I don’t feel so guilty.

Piper’s phone rings and goes to voicemail. I wince as I remember she’s injured and might be sleeping in instead of getting ready for work. I leave a short voicemail telling her I’ll be back soon.

Clive escorts us to a large SUV and takes us to what appears to be a small house. There is food on the table, and he tells us to help ourselves. Despite JB being sick not long ago, he eats as if he’s starving.

Harding stares at her phone. “My pilot can’t get out of Romania today, but he’s hopeful the weather will improve tomorrow morning.”

Hopeful? The reality that we could be here for a while sets in.

“That’s no problem,” Clive says. “There is a bedroom here and two couches.”

“I’ll take a couch,” I offer.

“Me too,” Harding says.

Lightning closes his eyes but stays composed. While he gets a bed, he has to share it with JB. “Please be a queen size,” he says under his breath.

Clive laughs. “It’s a double, but you two will fit just fine.”

Lightning turns to JB. “You better not be a bed hog.”

JB grins. “Nothing to worry about.”

For the next several hours, Clive entertains JB with card games. He must have sensed the rest of us need a break.

I keep staring at my phone, waiting for Piper to call back, but she doesn’t. I’ve texted Durango, and he hasn’t responded, either. My gut says something is wrong.

“Haven’t heard from Piper?” Harding asks.

I shake my head. “No, something’s wrong.”

“Or they both know you are technically still on assignment. Piper has access to the main calendar, don’t forget,” Lightning says.

I lean my head back. I had forgotten about that. Durango is a stickler for following the rule about no contact on assignment, and I’m sure he’s made it clear to Piper to follow it too.

Night falls, and we all sleep. Or try to. I keep telling myself Piper is fine, but it feels like a lie.

The next morning, we wait until Harding’s contact finally checks in.

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