“I have an assignment. It’s urgent, I’m afraid.”
She listened to what he had to say. Even on an encrypted cell-phone connection, Garrett was careful not to provide too many details. He’d wait until they met to disclose more. He told her what she’d need to know about a trip out of the country.
“How soon can we meet for a briefing?” Garrett asked.
Alexa took a deep breath, looked at Seth, and forced a smile as she brushed back her blond hair and changed the cell to her other ear.
“Let me work something out. I’ll call you back.” She didn’t wait for his reply. She ended the call and turned toward Seth. “Let’s grab that bite to eat. I’m starved.”
“Is everything okay?” he asked. “What’s going on?”
With a straight face, she raised an eyebrow, and said, “I could tell you, but then I have to dump you in the East River. And I’m running low on cement.”
Seth blinked twice with a deadpan look on his face. “Is that your idea of New York hospitality? A double tap to the head?”
“Yeah, if I like you.” She grinned.
“Well…” He shrugged. “Do you?”
“Come on, Harper. I was kidding. What? TSA doesn’t allow humor in carry-ons these days?”
“Only if it fits in a Ziploc.” He still hadn’t cracked a smile.
When she called him Harper, it reminded her again of the bounty hunter who’d become her friend. She remembered the look on Jessie’s face when she told her about Seth coming to town. Jessie admitted not having any better plans for the day, yet she turned down a chance to pick Seth up at the airport. Her reaction didn’t feel right, so Alexa had questioned her again. Jessie only reiterated that Seth was fair game, and it was open season. The woman had always struck her as a straight shooter until then. When it came to Seth, however, she sent out mixed signals.
And that wouldn’t do.
Alexa didn’t like the way that made her feel—as if she were intruding on something she wouldn’t understand. She wished she knew more. And maybe one day Jessie would trust her enough to tell her.
In the meantime, she had a guest to feed.
“Come on. Let’s blow this place.”
Alexa pulled from the curb, subconsciously cursing the bad timing of her new assignment. She’d break her change in plans to Seth over breakfast. And with any luck, the job would be over soon, and she’d convince him to stay at her place until she got back. He’d probably appreciate saving money on a hotel.
When she merged into traffic with Seth on her mind, she missed the dark sedan maintaining a safe distance behind her.
“Stick with them until I tell you to break it off,” Garrett Wheeler told the driver, a trusted operative who worked for him. From the backseat of the sedan, he watched the rental car as it changed lanes.
He hadn’t planned on close surveillance of Alexa Marlowe, but after he’d seen her meeting a man at the airport, he had to admit that a pang of jealousy had caught him by surprise.
Over the years, he had played countless games with her and arranged for clandestine encounters that had turned sexual. They both enjoyed them. Yet this time on the phone, she had played him as much as he played her. This he knew because he’d seen her do it. He’d listened to her guarded responses on the phone as he watched her from a discreet distance.
What could he expect after what he’d pulled a few months ago? For her own good—and for the good of the Sentinels—he’d let distance grow between them. And later he knew it would take more than that for Alexa to realize their relationship was over. He’d set up a scenario that looked as if he were having an affair with another woman. It didn’t take long for Alexa to do the right thing and dump his sorry ass.
Her playing him over the phone today reminded him how he had ended it. A self-inflicted wound. They were no longer lovers. And any future he had once hoped for was over. She had moved on and handled their split with admirable professionalism.
And the man meeting her at the airport was Seth Harper from Chicago. He recognized him from the booking photo in the Chicago newspaper after the guy had been falsely accused of murder not too long ago. Jessie Beckett’s friend. That piqued his interest, too.
She had promised to call. And he knew her well enough to know she’d take the assignment, especially once she heard Jackson Kinkaid was in trouble. That left him wondering about her out-of-town guest.
What plans had she made with him? Or was he in town to surprise Jessie? Perhaps he needed to rethink who he would send on the Haiti assignment, but there was one thing for certain.
Any man who could capture the interest of
New York City
Sentinels Headquarters
Alexa had convinced Seth to stay at her place while she was gone. And he’d promised to change his return trip to Chicago and leave his itinerary open. That made it easier for her to leave. When she returned from her assignment, she’d press Jessie for the truth about her and Seth. She had no intention of letting a man get between her and her new partner. Now with that settled, all that remained was her mission briefing with Garrett. From experience, she knew to be packed and ready to go after they’d talked.
After Garrett served her coffee, they sat at a glass conference table in his office.
“You were a little vague about getting together on our phone conversation earlier. Did I interrupt something?” he asked.
She wasn’t prepared for Garrett’s interest in her personal life.
“No, not at all.” She wouldn’t give in to his prying. “I’m here now. Tell me about the assignment.”
He stared at her for a long moment. And with his swarthy good looks and penetrating steel gray eyes, he hadn’t lost his touch in grabbing her attention. Eventually, he got down to business.
“A hostage-rescue operation in Haiti. Out of Port de Paix to be precise.” He filled her in on the call he’d received and the research he’d done.
In his thorough manner, Garrett laid out his assessment of the situation, starting with the profiles of her team, a layout of logistics and communications for the op, and an overview of the region that included speculation of known terrorist and drug-trafficking activity.
“Haiti and the outlying vicinity have become an integral route of the drug trade. Product and laundered funds are moved between South America and the Eastern Seaboard of the U.S.” Garrett pointed a red laser light to a map on an overhead monitor.
“As you know, anything afloat in the Caribbean is watched by DEA, DHS, the Coast Guard, and countless other acronym agencies,” he continued. “So you’ll have to watch your six on this one. No telling who else might be tracking these bastards. And the wire services have covered the assault and are hungry for more. I don’t want our organization to get caught in the limelight. This is an out-and-back mission with no frills.”
He clicked a remote and other images came on the screen. He enlarged them.
“I used the time frame of the abductions and tracked the activity in the area. These images came from our satellite. The terrorists escaped with hostages from a fund-raiser, but got caught at a medical clinic. They held the captives there until they used grenade launchers to make their exit. After that, the Haitian police lost track of them.”
He used the red laser again to point out a series of dark shapes in the water. Several boats.
“It’s my understanding that your contact in Haiti will have better intel,” he told her. “You’ll have to narrow the timeline and sift through these satellite images to determine which bogey to pursue. Just keep a low profile and get the job done.”
