Man-love indeed.
2-Stroke answered his phone on the first ring. “Gather up the guys and meet me back at the bar. My nephew just came home from the Army in one piece and we’re going to celebrate.”
“Copy that, LT,” 2-Stroke said, the knot in the pit of his stomach unraveling. He knew that meant Fast Lane had good news about Dodger.
He headed for the room where they were bunking at a fast walk.
“Whoa, you look like a man on a mission,” Chry said as he danced back from almost running into her. “Where’s the fire?”
He smiled like sugar wouldn’t melt in his mouth. “Just going drinking.”
“You don’t drink.”
He thought fast. “The guys do, and I’m going as the designated walker.”
She laughed at that, and he so didn’t want the lightness of it to work its magic on him.
He loved the combination of her hair and eyes. Those predatory eyes in that pixie face made her seem like she’d just walked out of an enchanted forest. She’d gone prematurely gray at sixteen and her moonlit hair was just one of the things that had attracted him to her.
She studied him like she could look into his soul with her magic powers.
He cleared his throat and said, “Want to come along?”
That wiped the suspicion from her eyes. “No, I’ve got to get some sleep. Have fun.”
She brushed past him, and her perfume lingered in the air.
He turned to watch her go, understanding that no matter how close they had been as kids, he couldn’t trust her.
Five minutes later they were inside the bar, moving like a wave of muscle to the table where Fast Lane sat. They took the empty seats.
Fast Lane said, “Max, next to me. Pit next to him.”
Max froze and took a breath. “Why?”
“Don’t question me, sailor. Sit your ass down.”
He looked at Pitbull, and 2-Stroke was more than aware that it was a silent communication that some shit was going to hit the fan.
“When I deliver the information I’m going to share with you, you will not react. You will listen and remain calm and collected. Is that clear?”
They all nodded. He started talking, and when Fast Lane mentioned Max’s sister Anna, the big man jerked only briefly, but remained in his seat. Everyone tensed up, but when Max set his hands on the table and relaxed his fists, the energy evened out.
“Everyone has to be on board with this. Do you all agree to cover for Dodger and Anna?”
Everyone agreed.
“We’ll need a replacement, but I can handle that.”
Fast Lane turned to Max. “I know how hard this is going to be for you. I get it. But we have to act like everything is copesetic. I have no doubt the CIA is aware Anna is your sister. You go to her, contact her, you’ll be leading them right to Anna and Dodger, and in a situation neither may be able to get out of. No one outside of our team can be trusted with this information unless we have no other choice. I will make that decision. And no one is going lone wolf, either. Are we on the same wavelength, Max?”
“I had no idea she was CIA. None. My little sister, a covert operative? Why didn’t she tell me?” There was more hurt than anger in his voice. 2-Stroke knew why. Max would have gone off the deep end back then. But now, he was hanging from a thin thread but keeping it together.
“He said he would protect Anna with his life,” Fast Lane said.
“He said that? He said he would protect her with his life?” Max asked.
“Word for word.”
“Then I trust him to keep my baby sister safe.”
The fact that he trusted Dodger so strongly with his sister’s life made 2-Stroke wonder if maybe he could confide his own secrets to the team without judgment.
5
Anna stood in her bedroom, her bag packed with everything she needed to run. She bit her lip, hesitation making her stomach churn. It would hurt him when he found her gone, but it was for the best. He would go back to his job and she would… She closed her eyes. She had contacts, her wits, and her ability to disguise herself. But finding out who burned her was going to be difficult without talking to people at the agency.
Her mind shifted through scenarios and speculations, trying to assemble facts from assumptions. Getting out of the country was smart. She had to leave behind her passports. The agency knew all her aliases. When she got out of this mess, she was going to amend her when-the-shit-hits-the-fan plan. Getting out of Prague was going to be next to impossible.
And then what? Hide? That made her grind her teeth. There were too many unanswered questions and much too much at stake to just disappear somewhere.
Someone was planning something big, bigger than the satellite takedown. Her intuition told her that she needed to stay in this game and go at this situation hard. She could do that with the kind of backup Dodger would give her, but could she put him at risk like that?
She wasn’t sure if she was waffling because her argument was sound that she could do it more effectively with him or because she wanted him. That was enough to make her hyperventilate.
Then the whole decision slipped through her fingers. She heard the front door. She stuffed the bag under the bed and walked out.
Dodger stood in the foyer, holding a large bag.
“How did it go?”
“Perfect. He agreed to put me on emergency leave.” He walked to the couch and dumped out a load of clothes and other stuff along with one large and one small plain blue bag.
She bit her lip. “Are you sure about this?”
“One hundred percent.” He started to pull tags off the stuff.
“It might keep the Navy at bay for now, but if you’re caught with me—”
“We won’t get caught.” He paused and turned to look at her. With a smile, he said, “Believe me. We won’t.”
She raised a brow. “Artful Dodger?”
“Now you’re catching on.” He placed travel-sized toiletries into the small bag, then rolled and fit all the clothes into the larger bag, then tucked in the smaller one.
“What now?”
“Now we move someplace more secure with some equipment we can use. Pack what you need. We’ll sanitize this place and get out.”
That was going to be easy. She was ready to leave. “Where are we going?”
“Someplace safe and undetectable. You’re going to love it.”
An hour later, outside, Dodger walked to a black sedan, and Anna frowned. He opened the door and slid into the driver’s side.
“Anna, come on.”
She hurried to the passenger’s side and quickly got in next to him. He pulled the visor down and keys dropped into his hands. Where the heck had he gotten a car? The engine rumbled to life, and he pulled away from the curb.
They navigated the labyrinthine streets along the river toward the Charles Bridge, passing medieval alleys and passageways, breathtaking Romanesque and Art Nouveau architecture, and homes with a distinctive German influence.
She was grateful for the alleyways. It had been easy to escape. When they came to the Charles Bridge, traffic slowed a bit from a tour disembarking from boat rides on the river. The boats reminded her of Paris. What a beautiful city steeped in so much history, so beautifully and lovingly preserved by the Czechs, an ode to their survival during both Nazi and Soviet invasions.