“Where are we going?”
“I figured I would send you someplace you’re familiar with. Nicaragua. I also thought you might be able to clean up a few loose ends down there before your demise.”
“What loose ends?”
“A new ring has started to form. Page three in the file contains a biography and photo of Manuel Juarez, the—”
Sin grabbed the file and tore it open to Manuel’s bio. “There must be some mistake, this man can’t be starting a slave ring.” The words spilled from her lips at a frantic speed. “He’s my contact—a friend.”
Charlie hesitated before answering. “My intel tells me different.”
“Your intel is wrong!” Sin slammed her fist on the table.
Charlie leaned forward and whispered. “Calm down, Agent. I’m just telling you what has come across the wire.”
Sin mimicked his movements and tone. “I’m not an agent and the ‘wire’ is wrong. Do the weapons of mass destruction in Iraq ring a bell?”
Charlie dropped his shoulders as his posture relaxed. “You have two days to figure it out, because on the third day—you die.”
Sin thumbed through the file. “This is thick, how complex is your plan?”
“There are twelve copies in there. I want everyone to memorize what’s in there and burn the contents, tonight.”
“Done,” Sin said. She fanned out the packets of information and over the next fifteen minutes while she, Charlie, and Troy were talking, eight men and three women walked by and nonchalantly picked up a packet before leaving the coffee house. The last one―Fletcher―winked at him as he passed by.
52
Sin lay wrapped in nothing but a silk sheet and Troy’s embrace as she watched the sun rise over the nation’s capital. Her thoughts were far away, thinking of the days to come.
Troy stirred and stretched, bringing her back to the moment. “Mornin’,” his gravelly voice sounded somewhere between a breath and a moan, “damn glad to see you’re still here. I was afraid last night was just a dream.”
Sin cradled her head into his chest and let her hand slide over his washboard abs. “Not a dream, just a break from reality.”
He kissed the top of her head. “I wish you would reconsider and let me go with you. I’d feel—”
“No. We discussed it last night. Nothing has changed. I need you here, keeping an eye on Westcott.”
She felt his chest rise and fall as he sighed. “But—”
Sin twisted her body, and slithered on top of him. “Do you want to spend what little time we have arguing or—”
Troy wrapped one hand in her hair and pulled her lips to his. “Good answer,” she mouthed, biting his lower lip.
Sin handed Troy a towel as he emerged from the shower. “Let’s see,” she said, eyes twinkling, “make up sex, frustration sex, good morning-got to go sex, and shower sex.” She held up one finger for each point, “I think we have all the items on my list covered, how about you?”
“For now,” Troy said, pulling her to him and kissing her hard.
Sin let their kiss linger and then pushed away. “Down, Cowboy. You have a maggot to follow, and I need to get to the airport.”
Troy ran his fingers through her hair. “It’s nice to see you back to black. The bitch vibe works better when your hair is as dark as your soul.”
Sin’s full lips turned up at the corners, resulting in a sultry expression. “Such a smooth talker, Stubbs; no wonder you banged all the girls in high school.”
He snapped her with his towel. “Hurry up and get ready.”
Sin eyed herself in the mirror, it felt sacrilegious wearing a sack-like, sky blue dress. “Thank god this is the last time I need to wear this piece of shit,” she mumbled. “I wish I could be a fly on the wall when Westcott gets confirmation my unit has left the country. His head is gonna spin like that chick in The Exorcist.”
She draped her head in a dingy, grey scarf, concealing her mousy brown wig. “Let’s go,” she said.
“One minute, Agent O’Malley,” Troy said as he checked his weapon and slid it into his shoulder holster.
“You’re just doing that to make me jealous,” she said, hip checking Troy. “I feel naked without my weapons.”
“Yeah, well, it’s going to be hard enough getting through airport security without carrying guns and knives.”
“Charlie said he sent everything yesterday,” she agreed. “Getting them back will be the first indication that the intel on Manuel is a bunch of crap.”
“If not?”
Sin’s expression turned dark. “If not, I will find a blade and gut him like a fish.”
Two hours later, Sin had made it through security at Dulles International Airport and waited in the boarding area. The plan was simple enough. She would board a flight to Miami, Florida, from which she would grab a flight for Tonconin International Airport in Tegucigalpa, Honduras.
Each of the members of her unit would do the same from other U.S. airports. They would all meet up outside of Choluteca: Manuel’s hometown.
Sin arrived in Miami early enough to check in on her unit and Charlie.
Everyone was either en route to or at their perspective airports.
Sin sent a group text to her unit, tossed the throwaway phone in the trash, and sat back and smiled—a final going away present for Westcott.
Sin slouched back in her chair and closed her eyes. It’s funny how life works, she thought, a few months ago, I never would have dreamed I would have been reinstated in the bureau, never mind go back home. She sighed and thought about her father. A warmth flushed through her—a feeling of relief that she had the chance to reconcile her relationship with him before he passed.
“Now
