Page 89 of S.O.S. Mizzay

If all went well—and fingers crossed they did—they’d make it back to their bungalow hideaway, where any moves executed against them, today or in the days to come, would be thwarted by the SOS operatives hiding there.

“How much longer,” Fleischerman grunted grumpily after they’d been on the road for a half hour.

“Fifteen minutes, give or take,” Missy returned. “Why? You have an agenda?” She didn’t mind poking the asshole a bit.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he countered.

“Nothing. I just wondered if youze had something urgent you had to do, like take a crap.”

Yeah.Nobody had ever accused her of having filters.

“You’ve got a filthy mouth, you know that?” Agent Georgio sneered.

“Well, it’s been good to me so far,” she said, winking at Cobble who was sitting in the back. He was positioned in the middle of the bench seat, with Wiley to one side and Fleischerman on the other. Georgio rode shot-gun.

That comment seemed to shut things down again.

More silence ensued until Missy eventually turned into the barren sea-side area that had been partially cleared of brush and trees, but was still left dotted with numerous small houses in various states of decay.

“Is anybody else living here?” Georgio asked, taking a long look at each house they drove past as Andy approached the cottage where she and Cobble had been staying.

His was either a typical agent-curious question, or he was making sure no one would be around to bear witness to whatever he planned on doing.

“Nope,” Missy answered easily. “Everything is empty. This whole, huge site is slated for demolition. We’ll have the place to ourselves. I’m told there’s not a soul within half a mile of here.”

Which, of course, wasn’t true. There were at least four of her colleagues on the property; three waiting in the house, and Prez settled on a nearby roof.

Prez was the sniper on the SOS team, and he was damned good at his job. If shit started to go sideways outside, he’d be the one making sure that Andy and Cobble got the coverage they needed.

“You,Prancingdeer,” Fleischerman leaned around Cobble to address Wiley in a denigrating tone. “As soon as we get to this safehouse, you go in first and scope it out; make sure we don’t have anybody waiting for our star witness inside.”

She and Baskins had speculated that their perp might try to separate the good guys from the bad, and it looked like things were heading in that direction.

“You should do it,” Wiley replied smartly, being contrary on purpose. “I’ll stick with Cobble.”

Fleischerman raised his voice angrily. “Hey. Who’s in charge here?” he barked. “I’m the senior agent, and this isn’t up for debate, I’m giving you an order. Once we stop, get the fuck out of the vehicle and see if the house is empty.”

Wiley shrugged, like he didn’t give two fucks, but would comply.

“This is it,” Missy let them know as they pulled up in front of the place she and Cobble had enjoyed up until this point.

She braced herself as she put the SUV in park.

If she were reading the room correctly, it looked like things were going to get underway sooner, rather than later.

Wiley wasn’t fast to make any moves, and that was good, because before he reached for the door handle or got his safety belt off, her phone—which was beside her on the seat—buzzed with an incoming message.

Andy glanced down.

It had to be from either Baskins, Smalley, or her SOS team.

She picked it up and scrolled it open.

Chuck.

“Hang tight for a minute, Mistah Prancingdeer,” Missy stated, holding up a finger. “I have an incoming from headquarters.” She swiped at her screen and three words in bold caps popped up.

IT’S BOTH OF THEM

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