Page 44 of Under Cover
“Good work, Swan,” Harding said, correctly interpreting the source. He paused. “Why didn’t you bring that to me yourself?”
Manny gave McEnany a side-eyed glance. The IA officer had moved into Swan and Gail’s space as they worked, uncomfortably so, and Crosby fought the sudden urge to grab him by the scruff of the neck and throw him from the room.
“I can smell his breath, sir,” Swan said darkly. “Two words. Tic Tacs.”
Crosby hid his snicker behind his hand, and to everybody’s relief, Harding grinned.
“McAsshole? Get out of their laps. They’re fucking working.”
McEnany backed up hurriedly, ruddy face flushing more. “I was just checking their work,” he blustered, and Harding rolled his eyes.
“As if you could,” he said, raking McEnany with a razored gaze. “So we’ve got two potentials. Where’s the one to Prague departing from?”
“Teterboro,” Swan said.
Harding groaned.
“What?” McEnany said, sounding legitimately invested. “They’re, like, twenty minutes apart!”
“On amap,” Chadwick muttered, voice dripping disdain. “You’re not from here, are you?”
“How long does it really take?” McEnany asked, glancing around humbly.
“This time of day?” Carlyle estimated. “Forty-five minutes if we all go lights and sirens.”
“We’ll have to split up,” Harding muttered, and before he could slice and dice the group, Crosby had an idea.
“Wait a minute,” he said. “I know we’re in a rush, but has anybody talked to the mistress? She wants her boy back, right?”
Harding nodded. “Yeah—yeah, she does.”
“Where’s she live?” Crosby pursued.
“Right outside Teterboro,” Swan said. “What’re you thinking?”
“That we secure a helicopter,” Crosby said. “One unit drives to visit Tatya and pick her brain, and everyone else goes to La Guardia, with a helo on standby there. If it’s in Teterboro, we’ve got a unit close by and everyone else hops the helo. If it’s in LaGuardia, most of the force is there and it’s worth losing an extra car ’cause we can have backup from the copter. What do you think?”
“I think you’re a genius,” Harding muttered. “Suit up! Denison and I will take Tatya. Everyone else to La Guardia, stat. Helo’s on its way.”
“Wait!” McEnany protested. “What about my interview with Crosby?”
“Get in the back,” Garcia said, and Crosby noted he had an evil, evil smile on his face. “Crosby ain’t killed us yet.”
Son of the Blood
“YOU DIDthat on purpose,” Garcia muttered as they practically flew out of the SUV after Crosby screeched to a halt on the tarmac reserved for private jets in La Guardia. They left McEnany behind, still retching into the plastic bag Garcia had given him after Crosby had tried his patented “Let’s vibrate through the traffic in front of us” driving method.
It had apparently worked—they’d beaten Gail and MannyandCarlyle and Chadwick and were currently making their way toward the clearly marked helo while waiting for Denison to conduct her quiet, painful interview with the boy’s mother.
Denison had kept comms on as she’d talked, and Garcia and Crosby could still hear the woman’s hesitant voice under the screaming wind of the airstrip.
“I’m sorry, no. I do not know. I thought he hate Prague, because his grandmama—she was not kind. But you say he wants to go there. But Russia, it holds no healing for him. Not yet. Not yet.”
“Well,” Natalia asked patiently, “what sort of healing does he need?”
“Don’t you see?” Tatya asked plaintively. “He needs a happy childhood, and he needs it to see the man he’s become.” She sniffled. “He’s… for all the things he does are illegal, he is very kind.”
“He stole your child!” Natalia snapped, and at first Garcia had grimaced, thinking that she made so few missteps, it surprised him this was one.
