Page 131 of Crossover

“You think you’re calling the shots, Grayson Lockwood?”

“I’m telling you my terms.”

“Your terms.”

“If you don’t like them, you can go ahead and kill me,” I said. “But good luck finding someone else that can get you the confidential information that’s classified.”

I kept my breathing even; men like Vosch looked for any telltale signs of weakness. Trembles, swallowing, you name it. I kept my body hard, unblinking as I entered what felt like a staring competition.

“Without your family in the country to suffer the consequences of your betrayal, you cannot be properly motivated.”

So, hedidn’thave them. Thank God.

His arm was only four feet away. He was wearing a long-sleeved shirt, so I would have to scratch the top of his hand, but his soldiers circled us like vultures, staring at us like we were in a fishbowl—watching my every move. If I even jerked, they might start firing before I could even touch him.

If they shot me, that’d be one thing. But flying bullets with people around…would be a bloodbath.

Patience, Grayson.

“That’s what you will never understand,” I said, keeping my voice exasperated on purpose. “I’m on theinside,so I guess I see what you don’t—this is a chess game, and you’ve won. You’ve already infiltrated a leader at the CIA at least once; you’ve probably infiltrated the police and FBI, too. The United States has failed to stop you countless times, and now that they’re dealing with the shit show aftermath of Daniel, they’re running around the boat, trying to see where else it might be leaking, all while pointing fingers at each other. They’re too busy fighting with themselves to take you down.”

I swiped my thumb along my lower lip.

“I’m not going to die to protect a lost cause,” I added. “The reality is, you’re going to be successful with or without me, so if passing along some intelligence to you keeps me alive, so be it.”

Vosch evaluated me. “You expect me to believe you would turn on your country that quickly?”

“Quickly?” I balked. “You killed my mentor. Infiltrated my organization. If you have other options on the table, I’m all ears,” I added. “Not to mention, you put a gun to my head. What choice do I have?”

“You could be working with them.”

I smiled and shook my head. “That’s the risk you play when you try to get internal agents, Vosch. Of course, any one of us could be trying to play you at any time. If you don’t want that risk, I suggest you look elsewhere for your information.”

Vosch’s jaw ticced. “You have the information I asked for?” His voice was a low growl, laced with lingering skepticism.

I met his gaze unflinchingly, knowing that while I hadn’t fully won his trust, I had carved out a foothold in his world of paranoia and power.

Tension crackled between us, a palpable cloud of mistrust. I made a show of scanning the area, my eyes darting cautiously, like I was paranoid of being caught. Then, I slowly reached into my back pocket and handed him a folded piece of paper.

When he retrieved it, his hand came withininchesof my watch, but he snapped the paper away too quickly for me to make my move.

Goddammit.

“Next time, you should ask for it digitally,” I chided.

Vosch glowered at me, then opened the paper. Scanned it. And handed it to one of his minions.

“Cross-reference this. See if it’s accurate.”

I knew it. He already had this intelligence. This was nothing more than a test, and I could only pray that the CIA hadn’t pushed the button yet to change the protocols; if these didn’t match the current ones in place, it was game over.

The CIA would have to move their protocols to a new network, too, and sweep for informants, but we’d all have to worry about thatafterthis meeting. Right now, Vosch slouched back in his seat, like planning a mass murder was of no significance to him.

“Are we done?” I kept my tone half worried and half urgent. You know, the tone of someone that wanted to get out ofhere. Not the tone of someone who was about to carry out a termination.

He said nothing.

“I’ve given you what you want, so I’d like to leave,” I lied.

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