Page 81 of Extracted

Where the hell was she going?

She opened the door and forced a smile for the driver. He stood in a suit and tie, his expression as bland and solemn as Charlene’s. “Follow me, Ms. Turner.”

He strode down the hallway toward the elevator. Gemma tucked her purse close to her side, the weight of the gun making the bag swing less than it normally would. The knife Dallas had given her added even more weight. Her nerves jumped beneath her skin and nausea sat in her stomach with the heaviness of a lead ball.

The elevator took them down to the parking garage, where she got in the back of the black town car. The driver climbed in the front and steered them out of the garage.

Biting her lip, she slid her phone out of her bag. Still no word from Dallas. Not like she could answer if he called now anyway.

She returned her phone to the little pocket in her purse so it sat next to the card Dallas had given her with his brothers’ phone numbers. Their contact information would do her absolutely no good right now, but having the handwritten note from Dallas made him seem a little less far away.

They drove through the dark city. Illumination from streetlights flicked over her lap along the way. “Where are we going?” she asked.

The man cleared his throat. “Not too far. A nightclub.”

She drew back her head. Well, the dress had certainly been an indicator of nightlife, but being in another populated hotspot when an agent intended to shoot a guy was risky.

She sat forward. “Is Charlene out of her mind? With what you guys have planned—”

“Ma’am,” he cut her off, his tone sharp. “I’m a driver, okay? I know nothing of your boss’s plans, nor do I want to know.”

The leather crinkled as she sat back. Her skin flamed with anger. Damn the CIA to hell. She wasn’t going to let anyone get hurt this time. Not on her watch. If it meant lying about confirming Silas’s location, so be it.

“You have instructions from Charlene, correct? Or do you need to make a phone call first?”

Gemma bit the inside of her cheek. Charlene had given her a course of action. Enter the building, stay hidden, and slowly move toward the east corner. Call when she got close.

“I’ve got it,” she mumbled.

The car slowed and Gemma glanced out the window. Women in dresses as skimpy as hers were lined up outside. Men peppered among them.

“Oh.” The driver passed something to her. “Charlene said to give this to the bouncer. You’ll get right in.”

She accepted the slim black card—Blank? What the hell?—and got out. Warm air touched her skin as she stepped onto the sidewalk. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she sashayed past the line and stopped at the front near the red velvet rope.

“Atrás de la línea,” the bouncer said, pointing to the long line.

She stuck out the card. He simultaneously dropped his hand and lowered his gaze to the matte black paper. Taking it from her fingers, he turned it over. Without another word, he unhooked the velvet rope.

A couple of women in the crowd whined.

“Thank you.” She smiled at the bouncer then slipped through the opening and stepped into the club. Music pumped from the dark room. Strobe lights beat assorted colors around the space, flicking off faces and drinks.

Tucking her hair behind her ear, Gemma went to the bar. She had to fit in with the crowd, and walking around empty-handed would make her stick out like a sore thumb. She ordered a cola—no one would know it wasn’t spiked—and turned to the dance floor.

Make your way to the east corner.

Charlene’s words rang inside her head, the tone just as annoying as if she’d been in her ear. Well, shit. It wasn’t as though she were carrying a freaking compass. She found a vacant table and set down her drink, keeping her hand loose around the plastic. Which way was north? Oh, the hotel had been on the northwest end of the street—and they weren’t far. She did a rough calculation of where north should be then turned her head toward the entrance.

Never—Eat—Shredded—Wheat . . .

Her focus landed on the east corner, and she rotated on her heel. Yes. Beyond the dance floor was what appeared to be a hallway. Couldn’t be where the bathrooms were because the signs for those were on the other side of the bustling space.

All right. She was almost done.

Yeah, right.

Now she had to get closer without drawing attention. She brought her drink to her lips and moved away from the table.

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