Page 39 of Covert Mission

When I cue up the voicemails, it’s Ralph. “Camy,” he booms, “call in as soon as you can.”

The second one is the same. Only, he sounds pissed.

I dial his personal cell. It’s Sunday, and I know he’s not in his office.

It rings for a long time. Unusually long. Like he doesn’t have voicemail set up, even though I know he does. I’ve left messages before.

“Camy!” Ouch. Right in my ear.

“Hey, Ralph.”

“I’m glad you called. I’ve been trying to tell you that I’m sending a guy to meet with your team. He’ll tell you all about it when he gets there.”

“Oh, okay. I am calling because I need something. Well, technically I need approval for something. I think this is going to go beyond my discretionary spending limit.”

He’s clanging something in the background. Whatever it is must be made of metal. “What do you need?” he yells over the racket. “Sorry for the noise. I’m at the airport and getting my plane ready to fly.”

What’s he getting it ready with, a hammer?

I frown.

Ralphflying? That’s not a pretty picture. He’s sloppy. Not that I can say much after finding my bra in the front pocket of my backpack. “I didn’t know you were into flying.”

“Just got a new-to-me plane. It’s the best.”

Weird. After six months of working for Ralph, I had no clue he had a life beyond Netflix and takeout food at night. This is especially weird because I’m supposed to know everything about the man I work for.

Mental note: figure out what the hell went wrong with my research. I get myself back on focus. “Ralph, I need to use some extra operating funds to hire a team of security guards.”

He’s silent for a second. Then he scoffs. “We’ve never done that before. Your predecessor never even brought it up. I’m sure you’re fine without any goons.”

My mouth pinches. A headache lingers in the fringes of my skull.

“Ralph, this is a real concern. There are a lot of armed rebels in the area. They’ve already stormed into our tent once, but thankfully some military-types were around to intervene.”

“Our staff guys will look out for you.”

He’s talking about Brian and Pembrook.

I narrow my eyes. “You have seen them, right? They’re wonderful and all. They do a great job at what they do. But I think they might be a little underprepared to handle armed maniacs.”

I can hear the shrug in his tone when he says, “They’ve survived this long.”

I jolt when his words sink in. He really doesn’t care. I knew Ralph was callous. I didn’t know he outright put people’s lives at risk.

Fuming, I stare into the distance, working over next steps. This puts me between a rock and a really hard place.

I have a job to do. Technically, two jobs. But things are getting more complicated by the minute.

I puff my cheeks and let out a slow breath. “Ralph, I won’t keep the team here if they’re in danger.”

“That’s not your decision.”

Something’s starting to churn in my belly.

It has the flavor of fury.

I push up from the ground and stretch my tense muscles. He’s wrong. Not just morally, he’s wrong about me.

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