Damn. This was another theory they’d never considered. A.J.’s head was spinning, and he doubted his now third bump on the head was the cause.
“Winters was in New York, and he had to maintain his distance, so that’s how Porter came into play,” Harper said, putting it all together. “Maybe even that other agent who took the shots that killed your parents was in on it, too.”
“Only Porter didn’t know your dad had a translated copy, or that the originals were already hidden in Budapest. He was just told to make sure your parents didn’t walk away from that theater alive,” A.J. speculated, adding his thoughts on the matter.
Ana covered her face with both palms, and A.J. wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his arms.
“I assume that’s why Director Mendez actually signed off on hiring you six years ago. He must have known your parents had been on the FBI’s side back then,” Harper said, “but since the immunity deal was never officially signed, and maintaining your safety was probably deemed more important, the media never got wind of the truth.”
“This makes the most sense to me,” Roman said, joining the conversation. “No one on the FBI task force who made the deal with your parents could have been at the movie theater that night—”
“They wouldn’t have been able to explain how my parents ended up getting shot and killed,” Ana continued Roman’s theory. “And while Porter made sure my parents were killed, a team was dispatched to my house to search for the ledger and key.”
“And when the Volkovs emerged five months ago, claiming they had the ledger, Winters knew he was screwed,” A.J. added, the muscles in his jaw straining.
Dirty agents and corrupt politicians were about as shitty as shitty could get in A.J.’s book.
“Do you know what happened to the copy my father translated?” Ana’s voice was soft, her words almost floating on a whisper.
Anthony’s blue eyes twinkled, a glimmer of pride there. “If something went wrong, your father told me you would know the location. He said you would know where to find it, and it would appear right before your eyes if you wanted it to.”
Ana jumped to her feet, but then the plane hit some turbulence, and she fell back onto A.J.’s lap. She glanced at A.J. before he set her back on the couch next to him. There was a spark of awareness in her eyes. She knew where the translated copy was, didn’t she?
“Abracadabra,” Ana said, eyes growing wide in surprise. “The magic potion he sprinkled on his special drawings to make them fade and then appear again.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Budapest, Hungary
Ana paced the hotel room, walking back and forth in front of the window, which had a view of the Danube River. The lazy, flat waterway that meandered through the city was a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of cars and people alongside it.
Their hotel was less than 900 meters from the entrance to the Buda Labyrinth, a system of caves and passages that ran beneath Castle Hill in Budapest’s historic section. So, they were within walking distance when the time came for Ana’s meeting with Grigory.
The pacing probably wasn’t doing wonders for her anxiety. But there was nothing to panic-clean. The hotel bedroom was spotless. And panic-sex right now would be insane, though it had crossed her mind. If Porter hadn’t been in an induced coma, his recovery status unknown, and Winters wasn’t MIA, she’d definitely choose panic-sex over panic-pace.
At least there’d been some good news delivered upon their arrival in Budapest. All the missing sources had been found thanks to Ivan’s tracking app. And all were alive. Katya would finally be granted the life Ana had promised, and with any luck, if the Volkovs were officially taken down tonight, Katya would be free from ever having to look over her shoulder and worry anymore.
But Ana still had to come through with the Volkovs tonight for that to happen.
In two and a half hours, she’d be facing Grigory Volkov, and there was no certainty as to how the night would end.
When she’d phoned Grigory upon arrival in Budapest, as the team planned, she’d been the one to offer the public labyrinths as the meeting place. The team had decided to give Grigory minimal time to prepare, but Grigory insisted the meeting location be at the “Renaissance Hall of Rocks with Wine Fountains of Mathias” in the labyrinth, which meant the entrance to the Volkovs’ tunnel system was most likely close to there.
“Still nothing on Winters. He hasn’t shown up at the bank in the Maldives,” A.J. said while walking into the bedroom from the living room of the suite. He shut the door behind him, and she stopped pacing to face him.
He was in jeans and a gray tee, his hair wet from a recent shower. A shower she would have taken with him had his teammates not been in the neighboring room.
And now sex is back on my mind. Maybe thinking about sex was a new form of therapy to help her get through the tough times? Therapeutic orgasms. Yeah, that makes sense, she reasoned. The orgasm A.J. had given her yesterday before the meeting in Carrollton, when she’d had to bite into a pillow so his teammates wouldn’t hear her moans while he plunged in and out of her in the bedroom, had been incredible, to say the least. She had fallen onto her back afterward murmuring that they were crazy, and he’d agreed, right before they worked up the stamina to do it again. The next time, A.J. took her from behind, and it’d been especially hot since the mirror over the dresser captured the act.
So, sex with A.J. during stressful times was, well, therapeutic. I’m officially the girl in novels who I screamed at for having hot sex when she should have been hunting serial killers or terrorists. Ana took back every bad thing she’d ever thought about those authors. Of course, she’d still read every word and five-starred the hell out of those books since the scenes had sizzled. None compared to what she and A.J. had together, though.
Wyatt, Owen, and even Asher had shown up an hour ago and were getting caught up on the mission details for tonight. The team needed all the boots on the ground they could get.
Which meant no picturing A.J.’s tongue darting between her thighs. No distracting thoughts. No therapeutic sex to put her mind at ease.
“Um, did you hear me?” A.J. stood in front of her, his green eyes filled with worry.
“Yes,” she finally answered. “No Winters yet.”
“You, uh, sure you don’t want to just head out of Dodge? You and I can hop on a flight back to the U.S. and go search your storage for the translated copy and let our people here handle Grigory.”
“You need me, and you know it.” She rested her forearms on his shoulders. “But it’s nice I’m no longer a fugitive on the FBI’s Most Wanted list.” That was a huge relief. “At least I can check off fugitive from my bucket list,” she joked, and maybe she was getting the hang of how to roll with A.J.’s team. Humor and all. “Thank you for that, by the way.” It couldn’t have been easy for his team to let Director Mendez in on their “Avenger-like” lives, but they’d had no choice if they wanted to catch Winters and clear Ana’s name.
“He’s not my favorite person, but we’ll learn to live with him. Natasha said Mendez took it better than we thought he would.” He brushed his lips across her mouth as though he knew she was hungry for a kiss and needed his touch to calm her nerves. “But he’s insisting we have an FBI team with us tonight,” A.J. added as he pulled away, “and as much as we were against it, we may need additional support. The FBI agents will be told we’re private military contractors. Mendez said he’s selecting someone he trusts to run the team.”