Page 61 of Baby One Last Time
“Don’t test me, Kessler.” TJ sat down next to Bond and across from Mai, who was tapping on a laptop, compiling the list of weapons and ammunition we’d need for the job. “We’re not sending you behind enemy lines on no sleep.”
“Come on, TJ.” Not going to lie. I might have whined.
He continued like I hadn’t spoken. “Now that we know Wilder’s not in imminent danger, we won’t move until tonight.”
Mai must have sensed my irritation and anticipated that I was about to say something stupid. “What would you have us do, drop in on them in broad daylight? You know that won’t help Wilder.”
The only thing I hated more in that moment than TJ being stubborn was Mai being right.
TJ leaned back in his chair. Backing off. Giving me space. Which meant he knew he’d won the battle. “This is not a negotiation. Work with Penn and Sparks on the plans, then sleep. But before any of that, there’s one thing I need from you.”
Please don’t ask me to rat out Frankie.
“I need the details about your CI,” TJ said.
Crap. My stomach twisted. “I can’t. I take the ‘confidential’ part seriously, and I promised to keep him out of this. He said he told me everything he knows, and I believe him.”
“We’re not going to squeeze him for more information,” TJ said. “We’re trying to protect the guy. After tonight, word of Beecher’s fate will travel fast and his high-level friends in Moscow will take down anyone and everyone they suspect was involved, just on the off chance someone knows too much.”
Jensen was wrong about them seeing Frankie as small potatoes. On some level, I’d known that all along. I never should have gotten a penny ante guy like Frankie mixed up with Russian oligarchs. They’d sniffed him out immediately, set him—and us—up with those warehouses, and would take him out the first chance they got. It looked like it was my day to let down everyone down who’d counted on me.
I sank down into my chair and propped my elbows on the table, then leaned forward and propped my head in my hands. With one deep, pranayama breath, I let go of my plan, my ego, and my resistance.
Part 4
The Loverboy Job
Chapter 16
It tookme less than 15 minutes to tell them everything I knew about Frankie, including his sister in Jacksonville who had a different dad and last name, and who didn’t show up on any of Frankie’s superficial background checks. In the three months I’d spent at my desk job at the Bureau, I’d availed myself of all the research tools at my disposal to learn as much as I could about Frankie and a handful of other informants. Reading people in the moment was the real ace up my sleeve, but I didn’t mind stacking the deck any way I could if it might someday save my hide.
“We’ve got Miami Pete and his goons in our sights, so Frankie’s safe for now,” TJ said. “We’ll scoop him up once we have both Petrov and Beecher and their crews in custody, before the oligarchs learn their guys have been taken down.”
Putting Frankie into federal custody was the best thing I could do for him, now that I’d screwed him six ways to Sunday. My solo act had put him in jeopardy, but my team would save him. I nodded my agreement
TJ dismissed me, and I joined Penn and Sparks in the SCIF.
They had already pulled plans for jobs with helicopter extractions from rooftops and underground escapes through tunnels. I filled out the paperwork while we discussed each possibility, as well as contingency plans and worst-case scenarios.
Each one pretty much ended with Penn saying, “And if that doesn’t work, you, Lee, and Wilder head for the underground bunker.” The first time, he’d included extra details. “If there’s more than one tunnel connected to it, take the one that goes due south. We estimate that’s the direction with the highest probability of connecting to one of the city’s tunnels, based on the water table, soil content, distance to—”
“You don’t have to convince me, Penn, I trust you.”
My SCIF-mates went quiet. All three of us glanced at each other, cleared our throats, and put the awkward moment behind us.
“Well, anyway, due south,” Penn repeated. “We’ll have an extraction team waiting.”
I got the distinct and sickening impression that one way or another, I’d end up in those tunnels that night, running due south and praying to any entity that would listen that Derek, Mai, and I didn’t run headlong into a brick wall.
When our hour was up, Penn pointed to the SCIF door. “Time for you to get some shut-eye, per TJ’s orders.”
I was too wired to sleep, but I knew it was pointless to say so. “I’ll come back as soon as TJ will let me.”
“Actually, I need to stretch my legs,” Penn said. “I’ll walk out with you.”
My pulse kicked up. Maybe the trust I’d mentioned earlier wasn’t reciprocated, and he wanted to make sure I didn’t steal a car and high-tail it back to La Parisienne by myself. It rankled, but I couldn’t blame him for doubting me.
We stepped out of the team house and into the swampy stew of a late Miami morning. I thought he’d watch me walk to my bungalow, or head the other direction while discreetly keeping an eye on me. Instead, he kept pace with me.
