Crossing Lines by Adrienne Giordano
20
Shane watchedFaith leave the table and head toward the computer geek. “Well,” he muttered. “I guess we know where she stands.”
Not that he’d had any questions because they’d discussed it. At length. Not specifically killing Alfaro, but they both knew their enemy. That kind of evil never gives up. Never stops looking.
Shane brought his gaze back to Sullivan, whose eyes were pinned to Faith. Interesting. Finally, the asshole dragged his attention from Faith back to Shane.
“I don’t blame her,” he said. “Are you on board with this plan?”
“Eliminating Alfaro? Bet your ass. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Sullivan shrugged. “You’re established here. Got a lot to lose.”
“More to gain if it means seeing my family on holidays. Get this straight, Sullivan, the way I’m living? I’ve managed to carve out a life, but it still sucks. Sitting in your DC office, you wouldn’t know anything about that.”
Sullivan basically turned to stone. No nasty glare. No locked jaw. No poking his finger. Nothing. The guy gave zero satisfaction for a perfectly delivered insult. What the hell kind of fun was that?
“I may not,” he said. “But I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. And what the fuck did I do to you that makes you hate me so much?”
Now they were getting somewhere. Shane had waited a long time to nail Sully on this one. “You didn’t do it to me. You let Dusty take a grade reduction. You’re the one who didn’t follow orders and you got a fucking promotion.”
“That’s what you’re pissed about? Seriously? Hey, dumbass, my promotion had nothing to do with that op. One successful mission doesn’t carry that kind of weight. I’ve been busting my balls for years. That got me my promotion.”
“Whatever.”
“Yeah. Whatever.”
In a truly unfortunate way, this conversation didn’t have the climactic appeal Shane had hoped for. Plus, they had bigger problems to deal with than Sullivan being an ambitious career-climber.
Shane waved it off. “Where are we on Reynaldo Everado? According to Leslie, he’s ready to deal.”
Sully’s gaze went to Faith, now sitting on the sofa next to Joel. “Depending on what he has, we’re open to it.”
Shane dug into his pocket for his phone. “Excellent. Let’s get Leslie on the phone. Get this rolling.”
“Hang on. What does he do for Alfaro these days? Is he part of the inner circle?”
“I have no idea. When I left, he was a driver. If he still is, I’d say he’s part of the inner circle.”
“Even after his sister left?”
Here’s where the story got good. “No one knew she was his sister. They’re half-siblings. Different last names. She’s no dummy. She knew Alfaro wasn’t a prince and if things went bad for her, she didn’t want Rey taken down with her. When she was still screwing Alfaro, she secretly engineered a meeting with someone on Alfaro’s staff. One thing led to another and Rey got a job. If you guys hadn’t screwed her, she’d still be a tremendous asset.”
Clearly done with Shane’s opinions, Sully rolled his eyes, then pointed to the phone in Shane’s hand. “We’ll never agree on this. Call her. Put me in touch with Reynaldo.”
“She won’t trust you.”
“If she wants her brother out from under Alfaro, she doesn’t have a choice.”
Shane let out a laugh. “There are always choices. I’ll call her, but don’t be shocked if she won’t talk to you.”
“And what? You’re inserting yourself in this?”
“Not for a second. I’m telling you what I think.”
“Fine. If Leslie won’t deal with me, Faith can do it.”
This, Shane hadn’t expected. Control-freak Sullivan turning over the reins? “You’d do that?”
“You don’t trust me.” He pointed to Faith. “She does. We work well together. I’ll clear it with the brass.”
Shane leaned in, drawing Sullivan closer like they were about to share top-secret intel. “You got a thing for her, Sullivan? Because, you know, getting emotionally involved isn’t wise.”
Juvenile? Yes. Without question. From the beginning Shane had questioned the man’s motives. After the last few days with Faith, he was entertaining the idea of possibly having a relationship with her and he wanted answers about her involvement with Sullivan.
“Come on,” Sully said, half laughing. “You’re not one of those guys who thinks a man and a woman can’t work together without it involving sex, are you?”
He considered that a second. When it came to a woman like Faith, a smart, strong and attractive-as-hell woman?
Yeah, he was most definitely one of those guys.
Not that he’d admit it to this asshole. “You’ve gone above and beyond to help her while the company gave me zero support. What’s the deal?”
“And this is your business how?”
“It’s not. I don’t see her as your type.”
“What’s my type?”
“The one who’s willing to make the political climb with you. That’s not her. She wants simplicity. Not a bunch of backstabbers.”
“Fuck you. You don’t know me. And you sure as hell don’t know the type of woman I’m attracted to. As for Li — Faith — she did good work on our country’s behalf. She got a raw deal. I’d like to see her come out of this. After that? I don’t know. I guess we’ll see what happens.”
And then the bastard gave Shane a slick smile. Not the I-will-win smile though. This was the I’m-screwing-with-you smile and the ultimate mind-fuck. Dang, he’s good.
“Unless, of course,” Sullivan said, “you have a personal interest in her yourself,”
Yeah. Messing with him. Fine. He wanted to play. Shane would play.
“I do,” he admitted. “She’s amazing. Dependable, caring. Stubborn as hell. If we both hadn’t gotten screwed by the agency, I might even think about a future.”
“That’d be a huge risk.”
“Ya think?”
Faith chose that moment to rise from her spot on the couch and approach them. Great. Her ears must be flaming.
She stopped at the end of the table, her gaze drifting between them. “I can feel you two talking about me. What’s going on?”
“In fact,” Shane said, “we are you talking about you.”
She angled her head at him and narrowed her eyes, a warning that he’d better not have fucked something up. Or said too much. Which he probably had.
“Sullivan wants you to broker the Reynaldo deal.”
She blinked. Blink, blink, blink. “Wait. What? Me?”
“Shane doesn’t think Leslie will trust me.”
Faith rolled her lower lip out. “Well, he’s right about that.”
Shane couldn’t help it. He gave Sullivan his best smart-ass grin.
“Settle down, fella,” Faith told him. “You and I see it from Leslie’s side. We’ve experienced being on the run from Alfaro. Sully hasn’t.”
Before Shane could launch his argument, she held up a hand. “I’m not defending the agency’s actions. All I’m saying is Sully can’t understand this life. He hasn’t lived it.”
“It’s settled then,” Sullivan said. “Faith will make the call.”
At one o’clock,hours after leaving Leslie a message, ordering food and trying to remain relentlessly positive about Joel cracking open Brutus’s laptop while constantly checking her phone to ensure she hadn’t missed Leslie’s call, Faith’s cell phone rang.
Leslie. Finally.
She showed the phone to Shane, who sat across from her at the table polishing off the last of his burger. The man sure liked his burgers.
Sully had long since left them alone, moving to the other side of the suite and working on his laptop.
“Maybe she’s got something,” Shane said.
They were about to find out. She picked up the call before it went to voicemail “Hey,” she said.
“Hello,” Leslie’s sexy-vixen voice came through the line. “I’ve reached . . . him.”
The him had to be Reynaldo. “And?”
“He’s willing to talk. Depending on how the conversation goes, he will decide his next steps. Given my situation, there are trust concerns.”
“Completely understandable.”
“Indeed. He will call you on this number at five o’clock your time. His dinner break.”
Five o’clock. Four hours from now. Shoot. But she supposed beggars couldn’t be choosers. And they needed Reynaldo.
“All right,” Faith said. “Thank you. Question for you. Is he still a driver?”
“He is. His boss will be dining out. At five, he’ll be in the restaurant.”
Across from her, Shane sat quietly, taking in her side of the conversation.
“Thank you,” Faith said. “You’ve been a huge help. I hope you know that.”
“Oh, I know. I’d better get what I want out of this.”
Something she’d made clear on their earlier call. Leslie, like Shane and Faith, had two conditions: 1. Her brother’s safety and 2. A new identity should her cover be blown while brokering the deal.
Reasonable requests. At least in Faith’s opinion. The CIA might not agree.
She glanced across the room where Sully pounded away on his laptop. Did he have the clout to pull this off? She sure hoped so.
“I understand,” she told Leslie. “We’re doing everything on our end to make sure that happens.”
“Good. Talk later.”
The line went dead and Faith set her phone on the table, spinning it one way, then the other.
Shane’s big hand came into view, resting on top of hers and stopping the spinning. “What’d she say?”
She peered up at him. “He’s calling us at five.” She leaned in, lowering her voice. “He wants to feel us out. After we talk, he’ll decide if he wants a deal.”
“He saw what happened to Leslie. Personally, I think he’s nuts for trying this. He’ll probably wind up dead before it’s over.”
Exactly Faith’s worry. In their efforts to secure their own freedom, could she live with sacrificing Reynaldo? “Is this right? What we’re doing?”
“You know you can’t go there. Moral decisions aren’t our responsibility. He knows what Alfaro is. Especially if he’s his driver.”
“He is the driver. At the very least, we’d be able to track Alfaro’s movements.”
“Which makes eliminating him a whole lot easier.”
Would the agency do it? Particularly when a presidential executive order from the ΚΌ70s mandated that no US government employee take part in the assassination of a political leader.
Over the years, the agency worked around that order by changing their terminology. Now, there were no assassination attempts but targeted killings.
And Alfaro, based on his crimes, belonged at the top of the kill list.
“You’re right,” she said. “I’ll tell Sully.”
When Shane’s eyes got snappy, she reached for him, squeezing his hand. “I’m not cutting you out. When the two of you are together, it’s solid tension. We need Sully focused on the deal with Reynaldo.”
After a few seconds, he nodded. “The tension is on me. I was dogging him earlier.”
Faith snorted. “Of course you were. His actions hurt your friend and you’re a protector. I’ll work around it so we can get this deal with Rey done. If we focus on eliminating Alfaro, we get our lives back.”
That’s what she wanted. She probably wouldn’t be able to go back to being Liz Aiken, but she wanted her freedom. A life as Faith Burgess.
And maybe a future with the man sitting in front of her.
At five p.m.,Faith’s phone rang. On the other side of the suite, Joel continued his brute force efforts to crack into the laptop. That man might be headed for sainthood because by now Faith would have put a bullet in the damned thing.
This, however, was his job and on some twisted level he probably found it challenging. A task to be conquered.
All while Sully sat at the desk near the bed and busied himself with calls. Across from her at the dining table, Shane watched CNN on his phone.
She held the phone up. “Blocked number. It has to be him.” She poked the screen. “Hello?”
“Hello,” a man with a prepubescent sounding voice said.
Wow. Totally not what she expected, but Leslie hadn’t mentioned his age. They were half siblings. He could be much younger. Maybe a second marriage or something.
“This is José. Is this good number?”
José. The code name Leslie had given them. His English was clear but accented. If necessary, they’d resort to speaking Spanish.
“Yes, this is fine.”
She could easily toss the burner phone if things went sideways.
Faith waved Shane to her side of the table. He hustled over, squeezing in beside her and tipping his head close as she held the phone between.
She caught the faded scent of hotel soap from that morning and her mind tripped back to watching him leave the bed they’d shared and grab deodorant and a comb from his bag along with clothes he’d stacked in a neat pile.
All of it completely routine, mundane even. Yet she wanted it. Every day.
She shook the thought away. Later, she’d think about homes and meals together and routines.
“José,” she said, “our mutual acquaintance indicated you might be able to help us. If the information is useful, our counterparts are willing to assist in getting you out of the country. If that’s what you want.”
“Si. Yes. I can’t do this anymore. It’s too much.”
A stab of guilt halted her. This kid had no idea what he was getting into, leaving his home, changing his identity. Starting over. After this, if they failed, he’d be on the run, constantly looking over his shoulder.
She glanced at Shane, who nudged his chin at the phone. “His choice,” he mouthed.
His choice. She needed to remember that. She went back to Rey. “All right. We’re looking for Gustavo. Do you know if he’s been in contact with Alfaro since yesterday?”
“I am not sure. Paolo, the bodyguard, told me today that things were bad. Very bad. Gustavo not answering texts, calls or emails. More men being sent to Chicago.”
“To find Gustavo?”
“To find anyone helping you.”
“Does he know about Shane? Who he really is?”
A shouting voice sounded from the other end and Reynaldo let fly a stream of muffled Spanish. Something about leaving early.
“I have to go,” Rey said, his voice once again clear. “He’s coming. Dinner is off.”
Shit.“Wait. José? What about Shane?”
“I have to go. I’ll call tomorrow.”
Click.
Dammit!
Faith tossed the phone, sending it clattering to the table. So close. So damned close. She shook out her hands, blew a hard breath. She had to move. Pace a little and think. Just as she took a step, Shane gently hooked his hand around her forearm.
“Hey. We’re okay. We made contact and he’s willing to help. It’s a win.”
Across the room, Sully spun on the desk chair, holding his hands wide. “Problem?”
“We got interrupted,” Faith said. “He’ll call back tomorrow. He’s in.”
From the couch, Joel held his hands straight in the air à la football referee, a giant smile lighting his face. “He’s not the only one who’s in.” He pointed at the laptop. “Paydirt.”
Shit on a shingle.Sullivan’s geek had done it. He’d hacked into Brutus’s computer.
Shane took a second, let the thought roll over him. His heart rate kicked up and his pulse slammed because…holy, holy hell…they might pull this off.
Faith hauled ass to the sofa, huddling beside Joel. Shane followed, standing next to her as she pointed to a small blue app on the bottom of the screen.
“Click on that,” she said. “Let’s see if he has his text messages synched.”
Now that would be epic.
Joel clicked. Nothing. Too good to be true.
Sullivan joined them, taking residence on the other side of Joel. “Check his emails.”
“And his contacts,” Faith said. “What does he have there?”
Joel looked up from the computer and stretched his neck. “Everybody, back off. I’m gonna change the password and hit the bathroom. I need caffeine too.”
Wasting no time, Sully moved to the desk phone. “I’ll get coffee.”
“Great.” Joel’s fingers flew across the keyboard. “Okay. We’re good. Password changed. I’ll be right back.”
The man left Shane and Faith in front of the computer while Sullivan called room service. Might as well take advantage.
Shane bent low, getting closer to Faith so he wouldn’t be overheard. “See if Alfaro’s digits are in the contacts.”
“You read my mind.”
She got to work, clicking a few times and then typing Alfaro’s name. Nothing.
“Hang on,” she said. More typing. “Ugh. Some are actual names but the others are coded.”
“What are you doing?”
This from Sullivan who’d just set the phone down.
Faith pointed at the computer screen. “His contacts are in code.”
Had to love her. No explanation and sure as hell no apology.
Sullivan moved around the coffee table and sat next to her. “Are there any emails?”
After a few clicks, Faith shook her head. “Nothing. At all. From anyone.”
“Check the trash.”
“Nothing.”
“Not a surprise,” Shane said. “He’s a pro. He’s not gonna leave incriminating emails. He probably dumped them from his phone.”
Faith looked up at him, her dark eyes sharp. “We still have all the files. Don’t give up yet.”
Shane let out a low whistle. “Easy there. Making an observation is all.”
“Hey,” Sullivan said. “Everyone relax. We knew this wouldn’t be easy.”
Joel emerged from the bathroom, spotted Sullivan and Faith sitting in his spot and waved them away. “Let me get in there and work.”
“You got it,” Faith said. “We need anything you can find on Alfaro, the cartels, money laundering, whatever. And I’ll give you a list of aliases Brutus uses.”
“Good,” he said. “All of you go away. I get twitchy when people look over my shoulder.”
At that, Shane laughed.
“He’s serious,” Sullivan said. “He works better with space. Let’s give it to him.”
By nine o’clock,after a heck of a long day, Joel made Faith extremely happy by handing over a backup of Brutus’s files. Who knew the intel that might be there? The idea of hunkering down for days to study computer files while Brutus roamed the city wasn’t exactly a pleasant thought, but if there was anything, the slightest morsel, that might help them find him — or nail Alfaro — she’d do it.
No question.
She held the portable hard drive up. “Did you find anything?”
“Nothing earth-shattering.” He passed her a printout. “A list of folders. The first two look like ammunition and gun purchases. The others made mention of,” Joel made air quotes, “‘the president,’ but I didn’t get through them all. “
Sully, who’d received a phone call ten minutes earlier and retreated to the bathroom for privacy, entered the dining area.
Whatever happened on that call had left his skin a not-so-attractive shade of gray. Or perhaps the man was simply dog-tired. They’d left DC before dawn and he’d been fielding calls, emails and texts all day.
That part of the job, Faith didn’t miss.
She pointed at the phone in his hand. “Everything all right?”
“Same old, same old.” He met Joel’s eye. “You about wrapped up? I got called back to Langley. The pilot is getting the plane ready.”
Wait.
Hold on just one second. They weren’t nearly done here. And could the spec ops world not give her a break? She had Sully’s full attention and now an emergency comes up?
It’d better be a coup. Or something equally juicy.
Maddening. All of it.
She whipped to fully face him. “You’re leaving? Now?”
“I have to.” Before she could launch into an argument, he put his hands up. “We’re on this, Li — Faith. I promise you. We have Joel, plus I’ll dig up another analyst. You have the backup so you can work it from this end. We’ll find him.”
Sure. Great. They’d all be sitting around combing through files while Alfaro sent his hit squad to murder them.
Her problems weren’t the CIA’s responsibility. They’d made that abundantly clear when they’d released her. Old news. Dwelling on it would be a useless endeavor.
“And what about the new team Alfaro sent?”
He stared at her. “We’re on that too. Talk to Reynaldo though. See if can get intel on them.”
“Faith,” Shane said, from his spot at the table, “we can handle this.”
His confidence did nothing to ease her angst, but she wouldn’t sit around whining about it.
While Joel headed back to the couch to pack up his belongings, Sully focused on Faith. “The room is paid for. You’re welcome to stay.” His gaze shot to Shane and back. “If you’re comfortable.”
Oh, Lord. One thing she definitely wasn’t comfortable with was telling Sully that she and Shane had been making use of a single bed. Not that it was his business, but when it came down to it, she’d long suspected Sully might have a thing for her. Feelings that, although she enjoyed their friendship, she simply could not return.
To her, Sully was, well, Sully, her friend and coworker, and discussing sharing a bed with Shane felt damned icky.
Keeping her gaze on Sully, she nodded. “Thank you. Staying put is probably the smart thing.”
“I won’t check out. Tomorrow, they’ll see you’re gone and they’ll charge my card.”
Avoiding an added expense helped. They’d been taking turns paying for necessities, but it all added up. Big time.
She’d pay Shane back. Every cent. It might take her a few years, but she’d do it.
Sully headedtoward the bedroom area. She stayed on his heels, watching as he picked up the overnight bag he’d set next to the bed. Had he even unpacked? Didn’t look like it.
Which only reinforced the fact that he’d flown out here, with an analyst, to help her. Would nailing Alfaro help his career and the United States? Of course, but he’d dropped everything for her and if they nailed Alfaro, they’d both benefit.
He leaned across the bed, grabbed his laptop and briefcase, shoved the laptop inside and set it next to the overnight bag before facing her. For a few seconds, they both stood there.
With her blocking him.
“Uh, Faith?” He tapped his watch. “What’s up?”
“Sorry,” she said. “I wanted to say thank you. You didn’t have to help me.”
“Yeah, I did. You got a raw deal.”
She sure did. “That’s the risk of the job. We know that.”
“Still doesn’t make it right.” He picked up both bags. “By the time this is over, I’m hoping you can move on. Make your life what you want. Your choices. Your rules.”
Her choices.
Wouldn’t that be something? It seemed her entire life had been reactions to events put in motion by others. First her mother abandoning her, then her grandmother dying — not that it was Gram’s fault — and finally her job at the agency. All of it, whether intentionally done or not, had been decided for her.
Now she wanted different. What that different would be, she wasn’t sure, but it included not running from Alfaro.