Page 14 of Redeeming Meg

Throat tight, she ignored her pounding pulse as Dec’s muscled thighs framed hers. The tight fit forced him right up against her back. “You sure you don’t want me to drive?” he asked in her ear.

Unable to form a snappy comeback, she jetted off down the tunnel as her reply.

Away they went, headlights only creating enough brightness for them to see a few yards at a time. With one arm around her waist, Dec used his flashlight to pick up more. Concentrating was nearly fruitless. His lips next to her ear raised goose flesh on her skin as he issued directions. Her ass sat cradled between his legs. Her pulse raced as fast as the bike at the feel of him snugged up against nearly every part of her.

It’s only the mission.

Her adrenaline and pounding pulse could be explained.

She hadn’t been undercover in a year.

The last mission had gone to hell.

It was expected that she might be excited.

Yeah, right.

Blowing out a controlled breath, she forced herself to focus.

The five-plus kilometers to the embassy’s underground entrance was an obstacle course of people, trash, and junk. They stopped a hundred yards from the connection of the public tunnel to a smaller secondary passage, and left the bikes to hike the rest of the way on foot.

A large slab of metal was hidden behind a deserted pump station. The smell alone was enough to make her gag and hold her breath. No outside force could breach what appeared to bea wall from this side, but on the other side was a security-coded lock.

Tessa cracked her knuckles like a thief about to break into a safe. She trailed a hand along the left side of the metal jamb, eyes closed and lips moving in a silent conversation. Her fingers stopped. She tapped a section of stone. “Here.”

Spence yanked out a handheld device. “Give me a minute to access the system and?—”

Meg stayed his hand. Tessa drew them back, nodding at Dec. A good thief—a good spy—would take a careful approach, knowing if they damaged the security system, it would trigger alarms. Since this embassy was abandoned, there was no need for finesse. “Shoot it.”

He frowned. “The rock here has to be three feet thick, maybe more.”

“Nah,” Tessa said. “They drilled a hollow trench around the sides and top to run wires for the keypad and cameras. If you hit this spot,”—she pointed where her hand had just been—“the rock will shatter. It’s as thin as your phone.”

They covered their ears as he pointed his Glock at the spot. It took two bullets, but it did indeed shatter. The second one also blew a hole in the embedded square containing the locking system on the inside. He used a hand to knock bits of stone away, grabbed the box, and yanked it through to their side.

Spence pocketed his device and rubbed his hands together. “Come to Daddy.” He jerked wires from their connections and tapped their ends together as if hot-wiring a car. There was a spark, and the door slid open. His smile was triumphant. “Voila.”

Once they were all inside, he closed it up again and pulled the box through.

“Disable it,” Meg instructed.

He jutted his chin forward in that way of his, telling her he didn’t follow her logic. “What if we have to use this passage as an exit?”

“Our exit strategy is above ground.” She scanned the dark hallway. Nothing flashy, but at least it didn’t stink. LED lights were spaced at equal intervals. Cameras, too. Flynn and Del were undoubtedly tapped into the embassy’s video feed, so she waved. She hit her comm but only heard static. At least Flynn couldn’t yell at her.

Yet.

Spence’s chin stayed cocked, his brain ready to argue. Declan grabbed the box and jerked the wires out, severing their connection. “I’ll take the lead until we reach the entrance.”

He took off at a fast clip before she could pull a Spence and argue. She motioned for the others to follow him, suppressing an eye roll while she brought up the rear.

“The new embassy doesn’t have a weapons room,” Tessa told them. “My best option is to relieve one of the police officers of a rifle.”

“You find what you need and get to the building across the street,” Meg ordered.

“Roger, that,” she said as if she were about to go on a carnival ride. She may have left the Agency for quieter pastures, but the spy she’d been was still inside, hopping with excitement like a junkie who’d fallen off the wagon, anticipating their next fix.

Meg wished she felt that way. For her, all that buzzed in her veins was dread.

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