Page 32 of Redeeming Meg

He nodded as if he’d do exactly the same thing. “For the record, it won’t bring you peace, but it will bring a certain level of satisfaction.”

“Don’t assume you know what will bring me peace.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Fair enough.”

She didn’t need peace. She needed to be able to look Tommy in the eye and know she’d done what she could to honor Jessie’s memory. “I didn’t mean that to come out so…”

“Pissed?” He chuckled, rubbing a hand up and down her arm in a soothing gesture. “It’s okay. I’m used to it.”

She punched his bicep. Hard as a rock, like always.

He stuck the earbud back in his ear. “Swans Three and Four, we require your assistance. There are a number of embassy employees trapped in the building’s gymnasium on the ground floor. Figure out a plan to get them out safely and enact it. You have five minutes.”

His face scrunched, and she knew Flynn had commandeered the airwaves. She stuck in her own earbud and switched it on in time to hear the director’s voice, “…incoming SWAT team breach. Your orders are to abort and evacuate.”

The thing was, he wasn’t yelling. His voice was deadly calm and pitched low enough to make the hair on her arms stand up.

“The moment the police arrive, sir, those folks become hostages for Hagar,” Dec said. “We can prevent that.”

Meg held her breath. The swans were never to go off mission. Were never to be publicly noticed or hailed as heroes. They were shadows, ghosts. Performing a humanitarian feat like this was outside the parameters and scope of their operations. What she was asking—what Dec was ordering Spence and Tessa to do—would get them all fired.

So be it. She was already walking that tightrope and hadn’t wanted to be activated to begin with.

She once again removed her earbud, unwilling to listen to Dec and Flynn argue. Instead, she roamed the chief of mission’s personal quarters, noting the normality of it. The suite wasn’t opulent, but it was nicer than any place she’d ever lived.

After her quick walk-through, she rejoined Dec in time to hear him say, “…with all due respect, sir, you’re not in our shoes at the moment. You threw us all here, and we can’t fulfill the mission to recover the USB because it isn’t where it was supposed to be. The Black Swan Division can handle this turn of events and will do so under the guidance of our leader. Swan One has a plan, and we will follow it. I believe it was JFK who said, ‘In a crisis, be aware of the danger, but recognize the opportunity.’ That’s what we’re doing. Black Swan Two over and out.”

She blinked as he gruffly jammed the comm in his cargo pants. “You just signed your termination papers.”

He shrugged and opened the door. “Let’s go get us a terrorist.”

TWELVE

Worst. Decision. Ever.

Declan moved silently beside Meg as they crept through the dimly lit office corridor. They avoided the guard in the stairwell by using the Chief of Mission’s private elevator to get down to the second floor.

The air was thick with tension, every step calculated, and each one of their breaths measured. The rioters outside had not dispersed and now had set up metal barrels that flickered with fires, radios playing music at loud decibels, and shouts and laughter. It was a party.

So far, the SWAT team had made no appearance. Neither had any US military force. Declan couldn’t decide whether that was good or bad.

In here, the quiet was unnerving, broken only by the faint hum of electronics and the partying going on outside.

Whoever had the USB was playing a game, and it didn’t sit right with him. His gut told him something worse was about to unfold. He’d lost count of the many surprises they’d already encountered.

Megan nudged him, pointing at the rear entrance to what was considered the bullpen of the embassy—a sprawling officefilled with cubicles. This was where most of the grunt work behind the public access areas went on.

He raised a hand to stop her, and the two of them squatted and peered over the ledge of one of the large glass windows that revealed the cubicles. Like in the other areas of the building, this one had been evacuated in a panic. Most of the waist-high dividers still stood, but some of the chairs had been tipped over, personal effects left behind on desks, and a variety of debris littered the floor.

The main door and matching set of windows were opposite them. The cubicle walls were a soft, blue fabric, and the closest one had pictures of kids pinned to a spot above the desk. Some school pictures, others of a family in various poses. Birthdays, Christmases, beach vacations. There was a framed photo of a couple in their wedding attire sitting next to a mug that read World’s Best Mom.

Had the woman escaped, or was she one of those in the gymnasium, hoping for a rescue?

He wanted to open up the comms and check with Spence and Tessa about progress on that end, but didn’t want to risk distracting them.

Or have another fight with Flynn.

Meg nudged him again, pointing at a group man with his back to them at one of the farthest cubicles.

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