Page 79 of Crossfire

Having a name and identity was one thing. Proof that she was an arms dealer was another. This had to be a mistake. How, I had no idea, but I wasn’t going to murder Ivy unless I saw for myself that she was a violent criminal, the type of people I spent my life ending.

Daniel’s face hardened. “Let me get this straight. You want me to demand proof before we’re willing to carry out their orders now?”

“No. I’m asking if there’s anyone that you can call to at least try to obtain some information.”

Daniel studied me for several seconds, his tone calming slightly as he asked, “Why do you care so much about this girl?”

“Because I don’t kill innocent civilians,” I repeated.

“Neither does the CIA.”

“Great. Then, there should be a mountain of evidence against her that someone can forward to us. Case solved.”

The bitter aroma of freshly brewed coffee permeated through Daniel’s kitchen.

“Where is the girl now?” he asked.

“Contained.”

“Goddammit, Grayson.” Daniel shook his head. “If they find out about this, I’m not going to be able to protect you.”

“I’m not asking you to. I’m just asking if you’ll try to get some answers. Can you do that?”

I came here, assuming this was some tragic case of mistaken identity, but Ivy was being accused of being a violent criminal, and that changed everything. If she was innocent and I couldn’t figure this out, no one could protect her. The CIA would get her eventually, and if she died, her name and her family’s name could be ruined.

“If she’s guilty, I’ll end her myself. I just need to see it firsthand.”

Daniel rubbed his jaw.

“How many people have I killed without pushing back? How long have I been a loyal operative, risking my own neck on countless missions? I’d appreciate a little grace on this one.”

Tension thickened the silence between us until Daniel finally sighed.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he agreed in an irritating tone.

“How long will it take you to get me the evidence?”

“I don’t know.” He glanced at the kitchen clock. “But the CIA is expecting a toe tag on her by morning.”

Swiping a thumb along my lower lip, I asked, “How long do you think I have before they realize she’s not dead?”

He sighed. “I can try to tap dance around it for a day, maybe two, but I can’t guarantee it. And meanwhile, if any intel on Vosch comes up, we’ll need to jump on it.” Daniel stared at me. “And we can’t have any delays.”

If Ivy was innocent, every second mattered. But if she was guilty and if she somehow got away, my hesitation could cost countless lives.

35

GRAYSON

I stepped off the elevator, relieved to find my brother Hunter sitting in my living room with his elbows on his knees, massaging his hands.

Thank God. I’d been nervous that Ivy might have busted his face with her foot trying to escape or something. How would a criminal defense lawyer explain that? Involving him like this was one of the stupidest things I’d ever done.

“She give you any problems?” I shoved my hands into my pockets.

When Hunter glared at me, he reminded me so much of Dad. Same eyes, same steely gaze our father used to give us boys when we’d break something after being told not to run through the house.

“You currently have neighbors?” Hunter asked.

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