Page 59 of Trapped With the Secret Agent

That answered a lot of questions. Now she knew why he handled everything thrown at them so well. Because he’d had practice.

The realization he hadn’t trusted her enough to tell her who he was hit her like a tsunami. Her stomach hurt and taking a breath was all but impossible.

Unless he wasn’t allowed to tell her. Had connecting with the SEAL team changed their circumstances that much? Maybe, because there wasn’t anywhere safe to stash her while they rode to the rescue, so she was going to have to know anyway?

As tired and nauseous as she was, the anger rolling back and forth through her gave her much needed energy. There wasn’t time to wallow in all those negative emotions. She was caught in the middle of a dangerous situation and needed to focus on that and that alone if she was to stay alive and save her uncle.

If she survived, she could spend hours planning how she would verbally dress Peter Welis down to his underwear. Something that would be pleasurable for more than one reason.

Georgia glanced up, saw that they were back in the city, headed in the same general direction from which she and Peter had just come. Her brain kicked into high gear.

Eight Navy SEALs, one CIA agent, several dozen hostages, twenty or so terrorists, and one nuclear warhead added up to a complicated equation, the answer to which was likely very messy.

She glanced at Peter and discovered him staring at her. Georgia carefully constructed a neutral expression. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction to hearing his part-time job. She turned her attention to the SEALs.

“Are the eight of you enough?” she asked, cutting off Lt. Stokes mid-sentence.

“Ma’am?”

“Is eight enough men to do what you need to do? There are an awful lot of terrorists in the embassy.”

“Yes, ma’am. We should be able to handle them.” The lieutenant’s eyes flicked toward Peter before returning to her face. “We’re better trained and better armed.”

“But won’t they be expecting you? I mean, we did escape, and they won’t know how we got out, so they must be, you know, ready for some kind of attempt to overpower them.”

“That’s a possibility, ma’am. And normally that would make our job very difficult, but that tunnel changes things.”

“They’ll be able to get inside without alerting anyone,” Peter added. “That’s three quarters of the battle. Once they’re in, the terrorists won’t have a chance.”

Georgia didn’t even look at Peter. She kept her gaze on Stokes. “What if they found the tunnel?”

Peter spoke up again, as if daring her to ignore him. “I don’t think that’s very likely. It took us a while to find it, and we knew what we were looking for. They have no idea how we got out. As far as they know, we snuck out the back-kitchen door.”

He had a point, damn him. She nodded but managed to avoid making eye contact. “I see what you mean.”

“Sir?” the driver called out. “There’s a road-block ahead.”

“Turn off and find somewhere to park.” Lt. Stokes looked at Peter. “How much farther?”

“About fifty blocks, but the area around the embassy is heavily patrolled.”

“By what?”

“Tanks, military trucks, and squads on foot.”

“We’ll steal a truck then.” Stokes leaned forward and spoke softly into the driver’s ear, who nodded. He turned another corner and drove up a street, past a series of shops and cafés. A number of military trucks of various sizes lined the sidewalk. He turned into a dark, deserted alley and parked the minibus.

Lt. Stokes pointed a finger at one of the SEALs seated in the back of the bus and gestured for him to leave. The man, dressed like death’s little brother, slinked out the door without making a sound, immediately disappearing into the shadows. Everyone else stayed silent and still without the normal moving around people did while waiting for news.

The hairs on the back of Georgia’s neck stood up. It was eerie how quiet they were. What were they waiting for? She didn’t feel comfortable enough with Stokes to ask so she leaned closer to Peter and put her lips next to his ear. Did the man have to smell so good?

“What’s going on?” she whispered.

“He’s taking a look around.” Peter’s answer was almost inaudible. “Trying to find a truck we can steal without getting caught.”

Georgia nodded. Stokes mentioned that, but sending just one man? Was that enough?

Seconds passed, and no one moved. She stared at her hands resting in her lap and shifted on the hard seat. The movement made a soft rustling noise that echoed through the vehicle, and she winced.

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