Page 28 of King

“Schafhirte. Schön, Sie kennenzulernen,” I replied. “Am I the first to arrive?”

He shook his head. “But Pilot and Centurion arrived only hours ago. Olsen”—Pilot’s alias for this op—“is meeting up for coffee with the asset.”

Olsen’s part in setting up the op had been to create a trail between himself and a local girl. It looked like they’d been flirting online, and he’d come to meet her in person. Gail was our asset, an operative we’d had in place for three years as a secretary in a security company, which in this case meant arms dealing.

Intel had pegged them as mercenaries, and there was an “official” mission directive although the op was technically off the books. My job was to ferret out the person who was in possession of the list and who the person or persons who would be purchasing it were. From our research, the “security” company was the most likely buyer.

“I assume Larson”—Centurion’s alias—“is setting up surveillance?”

Shepherd—who was going by Daniel for this mission—nodded. “If everything goes to plan, we’ll pick up the target tonight and set things in motion.”

Which meant they’d be snatching a high-value employee to hold for ransom. “Great. And the asset?” It was my job to extract her and get her to safety.

Since Olsen was most likely our traitor, the director specifically picked him to be the one involved with Gail. If thesnatch-and-grab was successful, he would stay with her until I took over her safety.

The worst part of operations was the waiting. Sometimes it took weeks of sitting around a safe house before taking action. At least this time, it was only a matter of hours.

I was drinking my third cup of coffee when Olsen walked into the safe house. Frowning, I waited until the soundproof door was shut and locked before I growled, “What the fuck are you doing here? Where’s Sariah?” I asked, referring to “Gail” by her real name.

Olsen shrugged. “Said she needed to go do some shopping or some shit and would meet me later for dinner.”

I was pissed as fuck that he’d broken protocol, but that wasn’t what was setting off warning signs in my head. “Have you heard from Daniel?”

Olsen shook his head.

Daniel had left to grab us some food half an hour ago, and the microscopic tracker I’d put on the back of his neck had clocked him at the market and was now moving back in the direction of the safe house. But there was a tiny possibility that he’d found it and was buying time by making it look like he was still in the area.

“And Larson?”

Olson’s head tilted as he shot me a confused look. “Sitting on surveillance, I’d guess.”

Something didn’t smell right.

“I need a shower, but let me know when Daniel’s back with the food. I’m fucking starving,” I muttered before dumping my coffee mug in the sink and heading to the bathroom.

After turning on the shower, I removed a flesh-colored patch of silicone from the side of my ribs, revealing a small device that worked similar to a cell phone. It only sent and received encrypted messages, and even though it wassupposedly undetectable, I wouldn’t have used it if this wasn’t an emergency.

I shot off a text to Alex, asking him if we had any chatter about a relationship between Centurion and Gail. Then I replaced the device and hopped into the shower.

There was a knock on the bathroom door before it opened, and someone stuck their head inside. “Ich bin zurück mit dem Essen,” Daniel called out, letting me know he was back with the food.

I grunted an acknowledgment in German, and the door quickly shut with a click. A tiny prick poked at my side, and I hopped out of the shower, drying off before I once again revealed the small device.

Müller not Centurion.

Fuck!

Müller was the mercenary target. How had we missed that shit?

Money tracks. Found source. Get out.

That wasn’t fucking happening.

Not until it’s done.

I put the communicator away and dressed, then strolled out to the front room.

“Olsen, call Gail and tell her the timeline has been pushed an hour and the pickup will happen on the opposite side of the street. Then tell her you’ll meet her at the corner across the street from the original meet.”

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