“Is this that thing where CIA agents don’t want you to know their real names, so they make one up?” JT leaned her way, his voice going low. “I’ve only met two in my time and they both called themselves Mr. Black.”
She turned slightly so she could whisper his way. “Sometimes an operative will go under a different name to keep anonymity. Mr. Black or Mrs. White or something like that. Why did you deal with the Agency?”
“I drill in some of the world’s hot spots,” he replied. “Trust me. I’ve met with Agency reps. I was working in the Middle East and they contacted me about putting a man named John Brown on the payroll so it looked like he had a job there. He’s still on Malone Oil employment files. Then there was a lady named Jane White who needed access to a conference we were attending.”
Michael leaned over while Tag and the Agency kid were arguing about murdering a CIA asset. “Did you sleep with her?”
Michael knew?
JT sent his brother a nasty look. “I did not.”
“Fine, call me Drake.” The kid sank down into his chair.
Tag actually gagged. “No. I will not call you Drake. Where did you get that name? From a bad soap opera?”
“From my mother, asshole,” the kid replied. “You know I might be young, but I’m a freaking genius, and I’m creative. I’m also really good with all the latest poisons. I won’t kill you, but I will make your dick shrivel up. Would you like a cup of coffee, man?”
Charlotte laughed. “Oh, you’ll do well, Drake. And I’m sorry, but go for it. I had our fourth kid recently, so I’m okay with not seeing his dick again.”
Big Tag was grinning. “Don’t be so quick to act on that. I’m going to get my balls scooped out and then we can play forever.” He turned to the kid. “Drake it is then. Drake, I know we’ve read the pertinent reports, but I would like for you to go over it all again since our primary has changed. According to his brother, JT is a himbo who doesn’t read much.”
JT sent his brother his middle finger.
It made her think about the fact that her sister had always casually tossed her under any bus she could. Alicia was petite and perfect, super feminine, and far more interested in her hair than her studies. She understood how JT must feel.
“I believe Mr. Malone understands the operation well enough,” she said. “He certainly understands his business, and the technology they’re trying to steal was something he helped develop, so how about we don’t disparage his intellect.”
That had every head in the room turning her way, but she wasn’t about to back down. It might be time to remember that she was a badass and he was her partner.
For now.
Tag gave her a nod. “All right. Drake…that’s so bad.” His wife’s hand came out, slapping against his chest, and he seemed to take her cue. “Please go over what you’ve found and why we’re doing this.”
“I would definitely like to know why you think my admin is a spy,” JT said. “She’s a major bitch, and I actually say that with respect. She’s smart and she takes absolutely no shit off anyone, which given that she’s a female in the petroleum industry, she kind of has to. And no, I’ve never slept with her.”
“Not because she hasn’t tried,” Michael said under his breath.
Well, that cleared up a few things. She needed to treat JT like he was any other partner she was going to go into an op with. Especially one who didn’t have training and was absolutely above reproach. JT wasn’t trying to sell his own tech. He was a man who’d been thrown into something he wasn’t ready for.
He was a man who wouldn’t understand how badly this could go because there was a core of goodness to JT Malone that wouldn’t allow him to see that dark side. He was shoved into a world where everything and everyone had two faces.
“I believe the team discovered a connection between a few of the suspects,” she said. “I can go over the whole report with you later, but a man named Greg Hutchins has been working with Mr. Drake here.”
“Just Drake,” the CIA agent corrected. “And yes, I’ve been working with Hutch.”
“I know him. He’s a good guy,” JT said.
“Where do you know Hutch from?” She was curious. According to everything she knew, David Malone was their primary contact with Malone Oil. The Dallas office provided the company’s security here in the States, while they worked with former CIA agent Tennessee Smith in the more remote locations of the world. But as far as she knew, Malone Oil had in-house cybersecurity, which was Hutch’s specialty.
“I know him from the club,” JT replied.
“The club?”
“Sanctum.”
The room seemed to get much, much hotter. He was a member of Sanctum? He belonged to a damn BDSM club? He would be a Dom, an indulgent one. He would be the kind of top she’d always dreamed of.
“Of course,” she replied, praying her voice hadn’t gone up a notch.
“Hutch hasn’t spent any time at Malone Oil,” Big Tag explained. “He’s done some consulting with their IT department, but they don’t know what he looks like. It’s why he’s on a plane right now. He’s going in as the resort’s IT guy, but don’t think he can’t handle himself. Like Sandra, he’s there to back you up if you need it.”
“He’s a very smart guy. I don’t understand why he left the Agency.” Drake looked thoughtful for a moment. “He could have gone places.”
Hutch had been one of Ten’s men, as her boss Damon Knight referred to them. Michael had been on Ten’s team as well.
Michael leaned forward, giving the CIA agent his attention. “I left at the same time. We didn’t like how the Agency treated our boss.”
Drake shrugged one broad shoulder. “You were on a Special
