Page 20 of Ethan
“What was that?”
“Nothing. It’s been okay. I’ve been to the beach,” I tell him.
“That’s great, babe. Both of you sit while I get us some drinks,” he says before walking off into what I’m guessing is the kitchen.
“Beautiful? Babe?” Ethan asks through gritted teeth.
I know I really shouldn’t, but I can’t help but laugh.
“Are you jealous right now?” I ask him.
“No,” he retorts before crossing his arms over his chest.
It’s adorable, and I like seeing him jealous. Probably a lot more than I should.
Greg returns with a pitcher filled with cold lemonade. He serves us some, and I take a deep refreshing gulp.
“Thank you,” I tell him. Then I jab the brooding man next to me in the stomach.
“Thanks,” he grunts out, rubbing the spot.
“All right then. What’s going on?” Greg questions.
“We need your tech expertise. Ethan and I just spent the past few days in captivity. Terrorists kidnaped us-“
Ethan cuts me off before I can say anymore.
“I’ll take over from here, Audra, thanks,” he tells me before turning to Greg.
“As she told you, my name’s Ethan Boyne. I’m a member of the United States Special Operations Unit. Audra says you’re a former police officer but also used to work in the military.”
Greg nods.
“I’m not sure if you’ve heard of the unit, but we handle high-risk tasks in and out of the country. We’re also off the books, so I’ll need you to promise not to tell anyone about us. Anyway, I came to Mexico on a stakeout mission. We’ve been tracking members of a particular terrorist cell. The mission took a turn, and Audra and I got kidnapped. We were able to escape a few days later but now we’re on the run, so to speak.
I’m positive any call made to the U.S. military is going to be traced, and we’ll be found, or the mission will be blown. These terrorists aren’t small fish. They play big, which is where you come in. We need your help in connecting with my teammates, so they know where I am. Audra tells me you’re kind of a hacker.”
“I’m good with tech, not a hacker,” Greg protests.
“Of course. Can you help us?” Ethan asks.
Greg tilts his forehead to the side and narrows his eyes.
“Depends. Are you ordering me? Or asking for a favor?”
“We’re asking for a favor,” I hurriedly say.
Greg shakes his head.
“I want to hear it from him,” he states, gesturing at an almost fuming Ethan.
He’s really asking for it now.
“Fine. Please, help us. It’s a favor,” Ethan relents, surprising me.
“All right. We’ll need to head down to the basement.”
I shudder at those words.
