Page 44 of Baby One Last Time
“He’s far from the stupidest bad guy we’ve ever taken down.” I held his stare, falling into the rhythm I remembered so well of us following each other’s cues and finishing each other’s thoughts.
“Seems unlikely he’d make the same mistake,” Derek said.
He weighted those last two words like he knew more than he should. I refused to confirm his suspicions that I was making my same mistakes, like going it alone and forgetting to tell my superiors about contacts with old informants. I held eye contact with him, and even put the heat of defiance in my look. “It would be an unprofessional move. Onhispart.”
“The warehouse lead is the only one we have right now,” TJ said, and startled Derek and me out of our staring contest and reminding us we weren’t alone in the room. “We’ll chase it down while we monitor all channels for corroborating or contradictory intel.”
Over the rest of dinner, Penn and Sparks filled in more details of their search. TJ warned us we might need to spend another week in town, as Beecher’s preferred mode of transport for his illegal trading, a friend’s eighty-foot yacht, was in the Caribbean, at least three days out from Miami. That landed wrong in my gut as well. I glanced at Derek without even thinking about it and he caught my eye, too. We were still on the same wavelength. But even if we were right, HEAT protocol had it covered.
On the off-chance Beecher veered from his plan, which we’d calculated to be eighty-two percent likely using statistical analysis that’s usually hella accurate, we would adapt. HEAT had tendrils everywhere, and analysts would contact Reindeer Team the second anything rippled through their networks. We were on high alert, which required us to keep cells phones constantly on, charged, and in reception range; to remain within a five-mile radius of the hotel; and to heed a curfew that demanded lights out by midnight. We’d also reached the stage in the mission where alcohol consumption must be kept to a minimum. Jensen was expressly forbidden from bar experiments for the duration, so at least something good came out of our restrictions.
When dinner ended, Penn and Jensen both announced phone dates with their spouses,, while TJ and Derek made plans to meet in half an hour. I wondered about that quickly, reminded myself it was none of my business, and bid the team goodnight.
“Hey.” Sparks caught up to me at the door. Alder and Mai were right on her heels. “There’s a great reggae band playing tonight in the lounge at the main resort, and I need to work off some adrenaline.”
“Okay, have fun,” I said.
“We’re all going,” Mai said. “You’re coming with us.”
Exhaustion pulled at me. Not the physical kind. The much deeper, harder, emotional kind. I shook my head.
“We’re not taking no for an answer,” Alder said. “TJ and Wilder reserved a table up front, and we’ve decided to crash it.”
That clinched it. “No.”
Mai’s eyes widened, then she covered the look with a smile. “You know what, I have a better idea. Let’s get our own table. Ladies’ night out.”
“Ooh, I like it!” Alder clapped her hands together. “Then maybe Kessler will fill us in on all the juicy details of her night with her boy-toy bartender.”
I was never going to live that down. “There was no night. That was a joke.”
“Uh-huh.” Alder lowered her voice to a whisper. “And when I say I want details, I mean right down to dimensions.”
“Wow.” She was serious. She actually thought I’d shagged Cole or Carl or whatever the hell his name was. That was better than her knowing the truth. I might have to make up some details to keep her sniffing down the wrong trail.
“Ignore her,” Mai said. “We’ll be changed and waiting outside your door in ten minutes.” She was a good temporary partner, but a bossy one.
“Okay, but just for an hour,” I said. “And remember, we can’t get smashed.” It was a rule I’d have to enforce even after this mission was over. The last thing I needed was to get sloppy drunk and regale them with any details of my sex life, real or imagined.
It wasn’t until I was alone in my room, slipping into a silky gold dress with a plunging back and short skirt, that I caught my own mistake. I didn’t need to worry about future drinking dates with the team. When this mission ended, I would talk X into letting me go solo.
I put on oversized gold hoop earrings, did a five-minute make-up job on my eyes and lips, and joined the rest of the ladies on my temporary team for our one, and probably only, girls’ night.
Fractal-loving Alder had donesome math. Using our individual body weights—yes, she had access to that information in our records, and no, it wasn’t appropriate—she’d determined precisely how much each of us could imbibe without becoming too shit-faced to jump out of bed at a moment’s notice if some directive came down overnight. I was suspicious when Mai and I both got assigned the same number: four drinks over the course of the next hour and a half.
We were hunkered down at a table near the back of the room. Not as good a view as Derek and TJ had up front, where the band’s instruments were set up and waiting for them to jam, but near a set of open French doors that let in a salty breeze. I settled back into my seat, pleasantly surprised that this might be a good evening after all.
“You might get buzzed.” Alder was saying, “but even if we received a go order tonight, you’d be stone-cold sober by the time TJ briefed us and we put everything in place.”
“Don’t worry, there won’t be any go order tonight.” Sparks signaled to the nearby waiter, ready for the first of the drinks Alder had allotted to her. “There’s not nearly enough intel yet.” She pressed her lips into a thin line, then nodded decisively. “But we’ll get there.”
“Let’s drink our first toast to that,” Mai said. When the waiter approached, she ordered a round of shots. Red-headed sluts, which made Alder, our resident redhead, chuckle.
“How’s the pod?” I asked Alder.
“Pod?” Mai asked.
“She means my lovers,” Alder said. “Two women and four men. We’re in a committed, polyamorous relationship. And they’re fabulous.” She smiled suggestively. “The seven of us spent a week in Tahoe together before I came to LA for the Pink Flamingo Job. That’s a rare treat,” she told Mai and Sparks. “We met online in a fractal forum. We’re spread out across the country, so normally there aren’t more than two or three of us together at any one time.”
