Page 60 of Silent Comrade
An atypical pause. “Dancing with two newguys who joined her shortly after you left. Seems to know them.Lipreading looks like she might go home with them.” Was that aweird tone to his voice?
“Probably a good idea.”
“Do you want me to follow?”
“Yes. But we need you.” He turned back toBritt. “Tachi’s going home with some guys.”
She nodded. “Darius and Chaz. Modelingfriends. She texted earlier that she’d crash at their place.”
He caught her extra intake of breath. Thatwas his girl, planning to have the apartment for a night of …nothing. He groaned. “They good?”
Britt’s brows rose. “Of course.” Like it wasroutine. Whatever. Not Red’s business.
Rodeo’s curse came through the phone. “I betthose pudknockers will … look after her all right. I don’t plan tostick around to see if they decide to play ‘hide the salami: deluxeedition’.” Again, Red’s hearing picked up a lime-sour tightness toRodeo’s voice. “What do you need?”
“Lequire’s people are on our six.”
“Shit.”
Right now, Red reckoned he had a half-hour,tops, before more of Lequire’s men cased this area. He had lesstime than that if he didn’t stop bleeding. He was, frankly,fucked.
One glance at wide-eyed Britt, and a momentof clarity nailed him in the gut. God help him, he would get herout of this situation. Unharmed.
As much as he hated the exposure there, hedid have security monitors set up at the apartment as well asstashed supplies. “Rodeo, what about the apartment?”
Wind sounds without dance music now camethrough the phone. Guy must be jogging.
“CO would tell you to go to ground.”
He glanced at Britt. “Safe house?” A quickshake of her head. Damn it. “Apartment,” Red gritted out.
“Stay hidden for another half-hour,” Rodeosaid, barely panting, the asshole. “I’ll lock shit down,tight.”
Red wasn’t above begging. “Are you sure wecan’t hide you somewhere, Britt? Please.”
For a split-second the determination in hergaze wavered. Then she studied his face. “Apartment. School.Safety.”
“Goddamnit, Britt.” When she opened hermouth, he pointed a thumb toward the street. “Shh.” She crossed herarms and jutted her chin. He searched the city night sky as if hecould get some help from the heavens dealing with this woman.Nothing appeared.
“Shoo-wee, bro.” Rodeo whistled low. “You’vegot a real cooperative damsel in distress, Prince Charming. Let meknow if you want me to try the ‘Rodeo approach’ with her. She’llgladly stay in one location. But not one position.”
Red’s head buzzed painfully at the thought.“Come on, man. Make this op work. Find a protocol that fits.”
His teammate replied, “A protocol?Seriously? We’ve been as successful as a Chihuahua trying to fuck afootball, for all the good these damned protocols are.”
“Roger that.” He paused. “So, what’snext?”
“Shit on shit, bro.” Rodeo blew out a breathand muttered, “Fine. Here we go again. Good ol’ Rodeo, cleaning upeveryone’s damned mess. Again.” He sniffed. “You’re killing mehere, Redhead.” He paused. “Resources: you’ve got securitymeasures, early alerts on perimeters, and tons of media feeds inplace in and around the apartment. And me. If we can’t protect itwith those layers, then go to plan B.”
Plan B. Which meant screw whatever Brittwanted and put her in protective custody against her will for aslong as it took.
She was free to choose. For now. If theywent to a secret safe house, she’d have to buy into the entireplan, which meant torpedoing her degree and her life. She’d neveragree. Which meant she’d have to go kicking and screaming. Which,technically, would be felony kidnapping.
She’d hate him.
Hell, they were screwed.
No other viable option right now. Apartmentit would be. “Roger that. Thirty.” He put the phone away and took astep toward her. The bum leg nearly gave out.
