Who the hell was this woman? “You’re not CIA, or any of the other alphabet soup agencies I’m familiar with. Who are you?”
Charley hummed on the other end of the line. “Let’s just say I’m an extremely concerned citizen with a lot of money and friends in prominent places and leave it at that.”
Of course, she would not tell him. The higher-ups never did.
“You have 12 hours to get your ass to Chicago, where Amberly has a meeting with an informant. I’ll send you location details.”
“I haven’t even agreed to do this,” he said, voice aggravated.
“Yes, you have, Devlin. As soon as Amberly was a part of it, I knew you wouldn’t tell me no. Your task is to rescue your ex because she has a general love for her country and always does what’s right, and take out 11, for real this time. No botched shots, no CIA interference. I want him gone, before he starts killing again. And you have carte blanche to take out anyone affiliated with him. We’ll watch and tamp down response, if necessary.”
Dev sighed, wondering what the hell he was thinking, because he knew he was going to do it. “Fine. Do I have any backup at all or is this a one-man op?”
“Well, save your wife and you’ll have a team.” Her voice was sardonic.
Devlin snorted. “Right... Assuming she just doesn’t kill me on sight.”
“Regent will head to the upper Midwest, Montana, we assume. His brand of crazy fits pretty well up there. He still has connections to his father’s paramilitary group, but he’s created his own, as well. They’re called The Blade.”
“Roger that.”
Actually, he had notes at home about the escort job, and the preliminary dossier when Regent was designated a VIP. Dev probably had all the information he needed to find the man, especially if he was bright enough to return home. “How do I contact you?”
“I’ll keep this line available, though I can’t always answer it.”
“Fine.”
He hung up then, because there wasn’t anything else to say. Glancing around the office, he sighed. Jack was not going to be happy.