Page 20 of Baby One Last Time
“Roger that,” Alder said. Doppler had his own signature code to let his minions know it was an authentic communique from him. We’d broken that code two days earlier.
“We’re ready for Cleanup,” I said.
Within a few minutes, Penn and Sparks were there, along with their corporate shadow.
“Shit, Kessler, five of them?” Sparks nodded toward Mai, then me. “Sorry to mess up your manicures, but this will go faster if you two pull one of them into the alley.”
We worked fast, each of the logistics experts taking one body. Mai and I dragged out a fourth. While we disarmed the four unconscious thugs, Penn went back for Doppler. He emerged a minute later with the guy trussed up like a Christmas goose and thrown over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. He kicked the door closed behind him and handed Doppler’s gun to Sparks as he passed.
“Get back to the van and get out of here,” Sparks told Mai and me. “This will only take us another minute. We’ll drop these guys off and be fifteen minutes behind you.”
We hurried passed the cleanup van parked in the dark alley behind the club and climbed into the one across the street, where Command and IT had repositioned to wait for us. As soon as we were in, our driver took off into the night. A few minutes later, we heard confirmation over the comms that Cleanup was on the road as well.
“Good job, Reindeer Team,” X said. TJ and Derek took turns praising us as well.
My comms clicked in my ear and I knew Derek was on a private channel again. “Now would be a good time to tell me you didn’t go dark for thirty seconds to set up a booty call with a mobster’s bartender.”
“Hey, TJ,” I said loud enough for everyone in the van and on the comms to hear. “Did you mention something about having a day off before we fly to Florida? I have a few things I’d like to do tomorrow.”
“Everyone earned a day off,” TJ confirmed.
“No,” Derek said in my ear.
A thrill ran up my spine.
“Yes,” I replied, then switched off my comms and pulled the unit out of my ear.
Since our reunion earlier in the week, I’d seen him every day, but never long enough. From innocuous conversations with TJ, I gathered that Derek was spending long hours in the SCIF, the secure room where we could conduct classified work, because he was coordinating off-site teams. Tonight’s jealousy was the only crack in his façade I’d seen since his thwarted seduction at the hotel. And jealousy wasn’t a separate entity from the fire of lust, it was an accelerant. I was counting on Derek’s raging libido so I could execute a plan that had been niggling at the back of my brain since I’d realized how over-managed this simple job had been.
I looked at Mai, the only person close enough to hear my hushed voice. “Time off tomorrow gives me time to holiday shop for my mom. You game?”
She frowned at me, then sighed. “For shopping? Sure. Is that really all you’re up to?”
“Can you keep a secret?” I asked.
She gave me the bitch-please look.
“Shopping and only shopping. Well, maybe a stop for some hot apple cider at a cute little café I found a few weeks ago when I was still a civilian.”
“Hot apple cider and not a hot bartender.” She nodded toward the comms unit in my hand. “That’s the secret? Do I want to know anything else?”
“Nope.”
Mai nodded and didn’t ask. She was turning out to be a very good partner. Unfortunately, I wasn’t in the market for a new one when my old one might be mine for the taking.
Back at the HEAT building,Mai and I unloaded our weapons and filled out forms to account for each dart we’d used, per protocol. Then we sat at computers in the SCIF to complete a hot wash, a data dump of the evening’s events while they were still fresh in our minds. Tactical’s reports usually take the longest. Going hand-to-hand with the scum of the earth gives us lots of tales to tell. But that night’s online form was more onerous than any I’d completed in the past, which—like the overabundance of scrutiny—I chalked up to X’s ongoing distrust of me.
By the time we entered the rec room, the rest of the team was already there, as were X and Derek, both dressed in black. She wore a velvet pantsuit that suggested she had somewhere better to go after our gathering, and he wore jeans and a tee shirt that looked painted onto his buff body, damn him. My teammates still wore their black ops gear, including Mai, who looked like a cool-as-hell Ninja. Still garbed in my naughty Santa skirt and crop top, I stood out like a Christmas party foul.
Derek seemed immune to the charms of my too-short, too-sparkly red outfit. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Disinterested barely glanced at me. Maybe his detachment was my punishment for the sin of flirting with another man in front of him for no good reason, and proof that I was now taking up space in his brain, if not his bed. One step at a time.
“Nice tattoo,” Jensen said as he approached us. “In honor of that, I’ve made a special drink.”
Everyone groaned. Undaunted, Jensen pulled a cloth towel off a tray he carried, revealing ten shot glasses full of something fuchsia and fizzy.
“Nope,” I said.
Mai nudged me in the ribs, then took two glasses and handed one to me.
