Before he could get his wits about him, Brenda was on top of him, her arms trying to work around his neck. His instincts kicked in and he wedged a hand between her arm and his tender throat. He kicked off and rolled to the side, Brenda riding him through the spin.
He kept trying to ask what the hell was going on, but she tightened her grip on his neck and her well-muscled thighs clamped around his midsection, her heels constantly kicking, trying to knock his legs out from under him.
He struggled to his feet and launched himself back into the wall, doing his best to either crush her or knock her off of him. The pair bounced from the wall and Roger spun again and kicked up into the air, bringing the pair down on the edge of the overturned dinette.
He heard a solid oof come from her and her grip on his neck lessened, but still she clung to him. He rolled to the side again and worked his other arm up, gripping her right elbow. He applied force to the proper pressure point and he felt her arm give just enough that he was able to pry her loose from his neck.
He gripped her arm solidly and threw himself forward, pulling her off in a flipping move. Her body hit the bed and bounced, then she was back on her feet and launching herself at him.
He brought his arm up to block her grasp and inadvertently delivered an uppercut to her chin that nearly knocked her unconscious. She fell to the floor, dazed and unsteady as she tried to get her feet back under her.
Roger didn’t waste the moment. He gripped her shoulders, spun her around and wrapped his own arm around her neck. He held her other arm bent back behind her and lifted, putting pressure on her shoulder and elbow as she came to her tiptoes.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he hoarsely choked out.
She gagged against the force his arm applied to her throat and he lessened his hold while increasing the pressure on the pinned arm. She gasped and tried to pull his arm further from her neck.
“You better answer me or so help me, you’ll leave here in a bodybag.”
She nodded and slapped at his arm, effectively surrendering. He pulled his arm from her neck and held her pinned arm with both hands. “I’ll talk,” she gasped.
Roger led her slowly across the room until he found his handcuffs with his foot. He pulled her to the floor and cuffed her hands behind her back then pushed her against the foot of the bed. “So?” He rubbed at his own throat and glared at her.
She glanced down at her nakedness then met his gaze. “Would you believe I wanted a goodbye romp? That I like it rough?”
He pulled his Glock and checked the magazine. Slamming it back home, he sat in the dinette chair opposite her and shook his head. “Don’t even try to lie.”
She opened her mouth again then he pressed the barrel to her forehead. She closed her mouth and focused on the weapon. “Okay. You got me.”
“No shit. Now spill it.”
She swallowed hard then looked up at him. “I’m not with the FBI.”
“Bullshit.”
“No. Seriously.” She paused, then nodded. “Okay, I mean, I am but I was originally hired by the CIA. They put me into ‘deep cover’ and cooked my records so that I could be recruited by the Bureau. I am an FBI agent, but…I’m also CIA.”
Roger leaned back and gave her a stupid stare. “Why in the hell would the CIA want somebody in with the Bureau?”
She gave him a duh stare and squirmed to get more comfortable in the floor. “Why do you think? They want to know what the Bureau knows.”
“Homeland compiles everything and anybody with the proper clearance can see what’s in—”
“Do you really think that everything is reported to Homeland?” She gave him that look that every man hates to see on a woman’s face. “I’ve been drawing double paychecks for six years.” She smirked and tried to shrug. “I looked at it as building up a dual pension.”
“Don’t be a smart ass.” He waved the gun in her face again and she sobered.
“Look, all I know is…I report things that look a bit dodgy and they do with it what they will.” She nodded toward her cell phone. “I cloned your phone and the data was sent to my handler. It took a few hours, but I just got the order.”
“The order? What order?”
She gave him that look again. “To…retire you.”
Roger slumped in his seat and stared at her. “Who gave you that order?”
“My handler. But believe me, it came from much higher than her.”
“Why would anybody want to…wait. You cloned my phone?”
She nodded. “Apparently you accessed some highly classified documents while you weren’t visiting me at the office.” Her gaze narrowed. “Whose key card did you use, by the way?”
He waved her question off. “So, they knew that I accessed those files?”
“Again, duh.” She raised a brow as she spoke to him. “Who did you send that intel to, anyway?”
Roger shook his head. “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”
“Did you sell it to some foreign national that wants to—”
“I told you, you don’t want to know; or maybe you do but I’m not likely to tell you, am I? But no, I didn’t sell it.” He stood and rubbed at his chin. “This isn’t good.”
“You’re telling me?” She sat up straighter and cocked her head to the side. “So, are you going to leave me handcuffed or…”
He glared at her and fought the urge to smack her in the head with the pistol.
She tried to give him her best seductive smile. He watched as she slowly spread her legs and scooted forward. “Just think
