Page 12 of Kept By The Agents

"Who can sleep through all the chatter?"

I grinned. "You managed to sleep through the chainsaw lying next to you."

Cat turned a baleful look on Suave. "You're a lot louder than you used to be. Have you gotten checked for sleep apnea?"

He looked appalled. "I don't have fucking sleep apnea."

"Are you sure, 'cause-"

"He doesn't," I told her. "They keep close tabs on us medically." And in every other way. Our nicknames as CIA Agents may be ghosts, because no other government agencies saw us unless we wanted them to, and civilians didn't know who any of us are, but our own agency knew exactly how many shits we took in a day. There wasn't much we did without our guard dogs knowing about it. That was one of the downsides of the job. It had enough perks to be worth it, though.

"I take it you two used to sleep together?" Weaver asked. He was still working at the computer, but he looked up at the prolonged silence and found us all staring at him.

My brows were up, but Cat's mouth was hanging open in shock. Weaver stuttered, "Sleep. I said sleep."

"That's none of your business," Cat snapped, then stood up, grabbing the sleeping bag and wrapping herself up in it before heading off to the bathroom.

"I didn't say you used to have sex," Weaver mumbled, "But I take it that's a yes, too." She was already gone.

Suave chuckled at the horrified look on Weaver's face. We were used to his awkwardness. He was shy and reserved most of the time. "Don't worry, she'll get over it." He frowned. "I guess I should let you guys know… I left Cat at the altar."

I sat up, draping my arms over my knees. "Damn, Suave. What the fuck?"

"Something came up," he mumbled. "I was a young, stupid kid."

"That explains the hostility," Weaver said, shoving his glasses higher up on his nose. He'd traded the specs in for contacts over the years, but he went back to them anytime we weren't on a mission.

We'd only had a few weeks to ready ourselves for this mission, and the order to move on it had come just as suddenly. He'd only brought one pair of contacts by accident and he'd ripped one of the fucking things the first day we got here. At least he'd brought his glasses or I'd have to track down an ophthalmologist somewhere in this god forsaken city. He was blind as a bat without them. It'd almost kept him out of the CIA, but I'd refused to take on anyone but him as my third. The agency had backed down once I'd pointed out that his vision may be bad, but it corrected to twenty-twenty and that was all that mattered.

Weaver had proven himself to be worth his weight in gold over the years. We all had our roles. Suave was the muscle. I was the decision maker. Weaver was the one who did all the damn things we couldn't. His ability with a computer was damn near unmatched, and he had this ability to pick up new skills quickly and efficiently. The three of us hadn't been together long before we'd made a name for ourselves within our agency. The other field agents knew if they needed anything, they could come to me. Hell, I even worked with a lot of people outside of our agency. It meant that if our asses were in a bind all I had to do was make a phone call and I had what I needed.

Last night was a great example of that. There were a few other teams here, working other cases and training. One call and they'd dropped what they were doing to help us clear that building. They knew they could count on me and my team for the same. That was just the way it worked. We were there for each other.

"Yeah, Cat's… She's not likely to forgive me any time soon." Suave gave me an apologetic smile.

"It doesn't matter. Once she found out we were here to take over she'd have been pissed off at all of us anyway, whether you were on good terms or not," I pointed out.

"True enough."

"Anything else I need to know?"

"Not really," he said, shaking his head. "Not now anyway," he muttered.

"What are you doing over there?" I asked Weaver, changing the subject. It was obvious Suave wasn't ready to spill everything. He would, in his own time.

"Hacking into systems," Weaver mumbled.

I stood up and went to stand behind him. There were multiple screens open. "Is that the SVR…" My eyes narrowed as I saw the next screen. "Wait. That's the fucking Russian Military Seal of-"

"I know. But I needed somewhere to start and making sure none of them are involved with the Raleka on a widespread scale is important."

"You broke into the Russians' databases?" Suave asked. He snickered. "That's awesome."

"It's not going to be awesome if I have to explain why they had a fucking breach of security," I snapped. Something else on the screen caught my eye and ended my tirade. "What. Is. That?" I bit out.

Weaver shot me a nervous look over his shoulder. "Nothing."

"Weaver." His name was a growled warning.

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