Page 15 of Avenging Jessie
Transaction logs linked Voss and Hastings to a front company headquartered near Görlitz—the exact location flagged by the CIA drop. The same compound that Voss and his friend had discussed at the gala—autonomous drones, facial recognition, and AI targeting protocols.
The pieces snapped together like a loaded weapon.
“J.” He carried the laptop over to her, interrupting her half-dozing state. “I’ve got confirmation. The man who came after you is Darian Voss. He’s helping Brewer weaponize the drones.”
She sat up, blinking. Slowly, she shoved the pillow away and reached for the laptop. “At the Görlitz facility?”
He set the laptop in her hands to let her read the files.“Everything points to it. From what’s in his dossier, I’d say it’s a good bet that if Voss is involved, we’re not talking about theoretical tech. Hastings and Brewer are planning for deployment on a massive scale.”
Her jaw tightened as she scanned the files. Every few seconds, she blinked rapidly as if trying to bring the words into focus. “Then we go. Tonight.”
“No,” he said, sharply. “Not tonight. Not without more intel. That compound will be a fortress, and you’re not going in there with a concussion and a rolled ankle.”
Her eyes flared. “I’m not broken.”
Broken. Her voice cracked on the word.
Why was everything a fight with her? He modulated his tone. “I didn’t say you were, but I’m not letting you get killed because you’re pissed off and rushing to get payback. Think it through. The payoff will be better.”
She stood, grimaced, and quickly sat back down. “So what, we wait around? Bake some croissants while they ship out kill bots?”
Spence took back his laptop. “We do what we do best—recon. We pull surveillance from the area. We speak to our contacts here in Munich—Flynn and Del can obtain satellite passes, power grid layouts, and possibly even a roster of personnel at the site. We notify our team and create a plan. And then, we assume we’ll need contingency plans, so we create a few of those, too.”
“That will take days.”
“Yes, and it assures we get Brewer and all of his assets. You’ve waited this long; you can wait a few more days. Our mission needs to be airtight. We can’t let Brewer slip through our fingers this time.” He looked at her and tried to see past the mask, past the fight. Tried to see the woman who’d nearly collapsed in his arms not two hours ago. “Do you trust me?”
She didn’t break eye contact for once, but her pause made him squirm. Finally, when he thought she was going to eviscerate him, she sighed. “With my life.”
He took a breath, then had her steal it.
“Just never with my heart.”
The words landed like a sucker punch. He almost reeled backward. He wanted to slam his laptop down. To ask her what the hell she wanted from him.
Instead, he remained as impassive as the wall behind her. She could push him away all she wanted. He hadn’t gotten this far in life by letting people trigger him. Even if she never gave him what he wanted—that very heart she didn’t trust him with—he’d take what they had right now.
She watched him carefully. Trying to read his mind? When she couldn’t see past his aloof expression, she mirrored it. “Three days. That’s it. You have seventy-two hours and then, regardless of what Flynn says, with or without your help, I’m going to burn that place to the ground and rid the world of Harris Brewer.”
Spence kept all emotion off his face. “Okay. Three days. It’s a deal.”
Her brows hiked up and her eyes widened. She hadn’t expected him to agree with her.
He sat beside her, not too close, but close enough she could see his screen. He thought she might move, at least an inch or so, just because she was stubborn like that. She didn’t, surprising him in turn.
The smell of bread and burnt coffee drifted up from below. Something about it reminded him of home. His mother. His sister.
He touched the coin in his pocket.
Outside, the sky over Munich was black and bottomless.
And somewhere east of them, in a fortified facility full of secrets and steel, Brewer was building a war.
Seven
Jessie
She hadn’t meantto fall asleep. Certainly not curled up on the sagging couch like some burned-out agent in a B-grade spy flick.
