Page 46 of A Touch of Treachery
Charlotte shrugged.“I’m used to people underestimating me.Now, let’s get you ready for the mission.”
She reached into my duffel bag, pulled out a blue winter hat topped by a fuzzy pom-pom, and plopped it onto my head.
“Hey!Careful with that.That pom-pom contains a highly concentrated explosive.”I removed the hat from my head and placed it on the bench.
“Yes, I know,” Charlotte drawled, pointing at the black pom-poms attached to her boots.“I justlovewearing explosives on my feet.Makes me feel all warm and cozy.”
I grabbed her waist and pulled her closer.“You know what makes me feel all warm and cozy?You.”
Charlotte arched an eyebrow.“Warm and cozy?Is that code for something else?”
I grinned.“It can be code for whatever you want it to be.”
Her face split into a wide, happy smile, and she put her hands on my shoulders, leaned down, and brushed her lips across mine.I drew in a breath, drinking in her scent, along with her deep blue aura.
“We still have a few minutes before we’re supposed to be down in the garage.”I waggled my eyebrows in a suggestive manner.
Charlotte gave me another quick kiss.“As much as I would enjoy that, we’re on a tight schedule.Besides, your father would probably have a stroke if he came in here and saw us fooling around.”
“Well, that would be one way to get rid of him.”
Charlotte laughed at my black humor and drew back.“Come on, Dundee.Hurry up and get dressed before I decide you have to wear explosive pom-poms after all.”
Iquicklydonnedtheclothes Joan had picked out: a dark blue suit jacket and pants, with a light blue shirt and tie and a matching vest with a paisley pattern.I nestled my silver watch into the vest pocket and slid my feet into black wing tips, sans pom-poms.
Fifteen minutes later, Charlotte and I got off the elevator on level seven, which was a massive parking garage of dull gray concrete that housed a fleet of Section surveillance vans and other vehicles.
Gia and Evelyn were talking with Joan and Diego, who were loading laptops, monitors, and other equipment into a van.My father was standing a few feet away, barking orders at the strike team.I couldn’t hear everything the General was saying, but the strike team members stood stiffly at attention and gave him sharp, crisp nods.My father was good at motivating others to do what he wanted the instant he wanted it done.Plus, no one wanted to get on the bad side of the head of the board of directors.
Except Charlotte.Every time she looked at my father, those mental calculations filled her eyes, as though she was trying to figure out his ulterior motives.I wished her luck, but I had given up understanding the General’s reasoning long ago.
Gia waved us over and handed me the keys to a black sedan parked next to the surveillance van.“The sedan is equipped with all the usual protective gear.Bullet- and magic-proof windows, run-flat tires, dashboard buttons that will let you drop spikes and smoke bombs out of the undercarriage.”
Charlotte went over to talk to Evelyn, Joan, and Diego, but Gia stepped closer to me, a serious look on her face.
“I know how difficult this is for you, Desmond, and how much you want justice for Graham and the other agents who died on the Blacksea mission, but don’t let Henrika get in your head.Find a way to recover the UC agent list, then neutralize Henrika and any Redburn on site.I don’t care what Henrika threatens you or Charlotte with.If you need backup, you call in the strike team.I amnotlosing any more agents to her.Understood?”
I nodded.“Understood.”
Unlike my father, Gia didn’t bark out orders, something that made me respect the former cleaner much more as a leader.
“Be careful, and come back alive,” Gia said.“That’s an order.”
I grinned.“Yes, ma’am.”
Gia went back over to the others, who were still clustered around the surveillance van.
Footsteps tapped out a quick rhythm on the floor, and my father strode over to me.He looked at the others a moment, his gaze lingering on Charlotte, then faced me.
“Remember your orders,” the General said in a low voice.“I want Henrika dead and a sample of the Redburn explosive in my hands before the weekend is through.Understood?”
Just like the strike team members, I couldn’t stop my spine from stiffening at his brisk, commanding tone.“Yes, sir.”
My father hesitated, then clapped me on the shoulder, which was his version of a hug.“Be safe, son.”
Despite all the years of simmering anger and hostilities between us, I had to swallow a hard knot of emotion in my throat before I could answer.“Yes, sir.”
My father hesitated again, like he wanted to say something else, but the moment passed.He gave me a short, curt nod, then spun around and returned to the strike team members.He didn’t look back.
