Please let this tracker work. Let it lead me straight to her.
If this tracker was anything like the one on the bomb, it was cast away on the floor, useless…and he’d lose May again.
Now he knew why the men in Blackout had to be alone.
Because he didn’t know if he’d survive that.
He reached into the console and grabbed his explosive kit. “Let’s go. It’s about time I get to blow a fucking door.”
NINETEEN
“Wake up!”
It took everything inside May not to react to Simpson’s harsh command. She didn’t want to do this anymore. Playing unconscious was far worse than children’s games of hide and seek. And she thought staying shut up in a dark closet, hidden behind her father’s clothing so her cousins wouldn’t find her was horrible.
Remaining totally limp, her expression blank, she continued to lie there on the cold, unyielding floor.
A sharp slap jerked her out of her ruse.
“Rise and shine, May.” The major general’s tone was calm with an undertone of boredom that she wasn’t buying.
She let her eyelids flutter to continue the act and pushed awkwardly into a sitting position. She’d been lying on that floor so long that her muscles were stiff and uncooperative, making it look authentic.
She let her head loll to the side before fixing her stare on Simpson. “What…” She rubbed a hand over her face, aware of how shaky it was.
His beady eyes watched her intently. “I know you’ve been awake, May.” Again, with that nonchalant, bored tone. It was starting to frighten her how blasé it sounded, as if the man had lost all sense of morality the moment he walked into the storage unit.
As he stared at her, she remained silent. If he wanted something from her, he would have to work for it.
He crouched in front of her, near enough that the sharp scent of his stress sweat flooded her nostrils. She drew her spine into the straight rod that got her through so many trials in her life. And it would get her through this one.
If she was going out, she’d go out with all of her faculties and a little poise too.
“I have questions. And you’re going to answer them.”
When she smiled, she winced. Her cheek stung where he’d struck her. “Then you’re going to answer mine too.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.”
“What does it matter what I know? You’re going to kill me anyway.”
Something flickered in the depths of his eyes, a serpentine shadow that slithered through the remnants of sanity Simpson clung to.
“Fine. You first.” He tipped his head in a gentlemanly style, the one he’d used when he caught her attention across the restaurant and she lifted her glass to him in a silent show of appreciation.
Just how long had this man been playing her?
AJ, if you’re out there looking for me, come quickly!
Unflinchingly, she met Simpson’s gaze. “You know about the bomb, don’t you?”
If he was surprised by her question, he didn’t let on with anything but a nod.
“Where is it?”
“You know it was moved? Hm.” He scratched at his trim military mustache. “I don’t know where it was moved—I just followed orders and handed it over to the person who showed up for it.”
“And who was that?”