Emirates. Financially secure, because all the money was on his mother’s side. Educated in England, first at Eton, then at Oxford. And for the past five years he’s been the mastermind behind several terrorist attacks. What makes him unusual is that he doesn’t seem to be affiliated with any one terrorist group or any fanatical position. Rather he’s more like a brain for hire for the bad guys. They say he’s brilliant.”
“A highly overused adjective as far as I’m concerned.”
The subtle dig made her laugh, but she didn’t back off. “Rumor also has it that you two tangled during a black- op in Kuwait.”
“You know better than to listen to rumors.”
“Yes, but if one is willing to look beyond the rumor one can often find the shards of a fact.”
His lips twitched, probably because he recognized his own quote. “You are learning well, young grasshopper.”
She smiled. Already she could see just from their short conversation, and probably the beer, that he was infinitely more relaxed than he had been when he first came in. She was good for him, she concluded.
“It’s true isn’t it? It’s personal between you two.”
He looked over at her, frowning but not scowling. “It’s not. It’s business. He’s an enemy of the United States, and my job is to take him out.”
“He’s the one who shot you, wasn’t he? The one who gave you the scar?” She reached up and brushed a finger over the puckered scar that lined his forehead near his hairline. The one that had been fresh when they first met. He caught her hand in his, his hold almost painful, but she didn’t back down. It was a weird moment with the kind of silence that made both people feel uncomfortable, but neither was willing to end it.
Finally, he pushed her hand back at her. “Don’t touch.”
“Fine. Just tell me if you got him?”
“I…we…didn’t.”
“Next time,” she encouraged him, sorry to see that relaxed look she’d induced fade back to weariness.
“Yeah.”
“You want to watch a movie or something?”
“No, I only stopped by to see what was up with your father.”
“And to bitch about my language grades.”
“And that. Language skills are critical for field ops. Most of what we do is talking and listening. It’s not quite as action packed as I imagine you think it is. I’ve only used a grenade launcher once.”
“Are you sticking around then? Maybe you can help me with my accents.”
He nodded. “I’ll be sticking around for a while. After all, someone has to teach you how to shoot.”
“Yes! Finally. Small arms.”
“Should I be worried that you’re this excited about handling a gun?”
“Don’t worry. You’re not on my list of people to take out,” she teased. “I was just wondering what was taking so long to get to it. But I guess I still have a year in the program before they turn me loose so there’s plenty of time.”
“A year,” he muttered. Then he shook his head as if he was just recalling something unpleasant.
She wasn’t sure what it was, but she sensed he was going to leave and she wasn’t ready for that yet. “What about a game of cards? Gin. Ten cents a point.”
He stared down at the deck in her hand. To impress him she shuffled the cards.
“Cards with a math genius?”
“You just implied the description is overused.” She egged him on. “I know you’re not scared.”
“Okay. What the hell?”
They played for over three hours, drank all the beer and ended up moving on to Diet Coke. He ordered a pizza, pepperoni because they both liked it, and she took him for twenty-one dollars and thirty cents.
For her it had been a really good night.
Chapter 10
“Got him.” Sabrina pushed open the trunk, but stopped when she felt Quinlan’s hand wrap around her ankle. Their eyes met, but she didn’t want to think about what she saw in his face. “I got him,” she assured him.
“I’ll go first.”
Rather than crawl through the space left open by the already flattened seat, he worked at pushing down the one next to it.
Sabrina shook her head. “You know there was a time when you wouldn’t have minded brushing up against me.”
He looked at her, but said nothing. The poker face was back. It was a pretty good one, too.
“I’m glad I never ran up against you at a table in Vegas.”
Quinlan hopped out of the trunk and immediately dropped into a squat, his gun in hand, ready. No shots were fired.
“I told you I got him,” Sabrina muttered as she crawled out of the trunk to stand next to him. She lifted a finger and pointed. “He’s over there.”
She started to walk in the opposite direction, but again Quinlan reached out to stop her, this time grabbing on to her arm.
“Where are you going?”
“I wasn’t kidding. I have to pee. And I don’t want an audience.”
She stared down at where his hand circled her arm and waited. There was no point in struggling. He would let her go on his terms and only then. After a moment, probably once he realized they were stuck in the middle of the woods with nowhere to run, he dropped his hand.
“This isn’t going to work,” she blurted.
“What?”
“You and me.”
“There is no you and me,” he said coldly.
There was. And she wanted to call him on it, but decided it wasn’t necessary. It wasn’t about them anymore. It was only about the mission. And he was getting in her way.
“I meant us working together,” she clarified. “Not if you can’t even trust me to pee, for Pete’s sake.”
“Trust? You’re thinking about FBI partners. Doesn’t work like that in the CIA. You know that. Go take care of your business. I’ll wait here.”
Sabrina stomped off into the woods. Not because she was mad, but because she wanted to send any living creature left in the area scurrying. There was no point in being angry with Quinlan. She wasn’t going to sway him. She wasn’t going to be able to reason with him. Only her actions would change his mind. So far she’d run from him, then kneed him in the groin, then lied to him about Kahsan. Not the most conducive behavior for winning someone’s trust.
She was going to have to work on that.
When she returned to the car she saw him searching for identification on the body. Predictably, his hands came up empty. Steeling herself against the sight of death, she did what she’d been trained to do in these situations and disassociated herself from the kill.
Leaning over Quinlan’s shoulder, she saw the mess the ricocheting bullet had made with the man’s face.
“Ew,” she moaned, trying only to see what she’d done and not feel it. “Messy. But hey, what a shot.”
Quinlan glanced over and saw a chunk missing from the tree directly to the left of the body and shook his head. “Ridiculous.”
“But it worked.”
“You couldn’t have left him alive so we could have questioned him?”
Sabrina’s jaw dropped as she pointed to the tree then back to the car. “Excuse me, did you see the angle on
