Page 43 of Over the Top

“Poppy? Is that the kid’s name?”

“Nah. It’s just what we call her. The night Chas found her, she was wearing a shirt with a big red flower on it.”

“Cute. Continue,” Spencer said.

“I put the burr in a truck headed for Canada, but the hostiles didn’t bite. My best guess is they tracked us with a drone into Pennsylvania. I shot down one drone, but they must have put up a second one. We switched vehicles in a tunnel, and I think we’ve lost them for the moment. But I could use some backup. I haven’t gotten much sleep in the past several days, and I’ll need some extra firepower if these assholes close in on us.”

“An hour out of DC, you say?” Spencer asked.

“Yeah.”

“Catch a nap in place if you need it. Meet us at noon at… I’m going to text you an address in Potomac. Drago and I will meet you there. We’ll put together a plan to catch these bastards, or at least to figure out who the hell they are and what they want.”

“Any chance you could bring an extra field kit?” Gunner asked. “I’m feeling naked as hell with just a handgun and none of my usual gear.”

Spencer laughed. “I’ll see what we can scrounge up for you.”

“See you then. And thanks, Spence.”

“We take care of our own.”

“Ooh-rah.”

Chapter Eleven

SPENCER STRAIGHTENEDhis tie as they stepped into the lobby of CIA headquarters in Langley, Virginia. He was here mostly to lend moral support to Drago. It was his first visit back here since they’d both been let go.

Still, they’d moved on to bigger and better things. They’d finished doing the paperwork to incorporate, although they were still debating what to name their new security company. It would be nested behind several other innocuous tax entities, of course.

Spencer wanted to call the company something that sounded fierce, but he had yet to land on the perfect name.

He clipped the visitor’s badge Drago passed him to his lapel, and they strolled over to the wall of stars while they waited for their escort to come get them.

A rather rumpled, scholarly-looking man greeted Drago with a warm handshake. Drago said, “Good to see you again, Charles.”

“Good to see you both again,” Charles murmured. His lean features lit with a smile that animated his whole face.

They followed the CIA analyst to a tiny office off to one side of a cluster of people at desks. The group made up a special strategic analysis unit that Charles headed, according to the plaque in the sliding holder on his office door.

They piled inside, and Charles closed the door behind them. Spencer’s ears popped a little and he reassessed the door sharply. Soundproof.

“What can I do for you gentlemen?” Charles asked, donning a pair of horn-rimmed glasses that made him look exactly like an absentminded professor.

“Have you heard about the shooting up in New Hampshire a few days ago?” Drago asked.

Charles frowned. “I’m an international specialist.”

“Right. So, there was a shooting in upstate New Hampshire. A few local cops were killed. Several locals were shot as well. But what nobody except us seems to know is that an Asian child was mixed up in the whole thing and was possibly the target of the shooting.”

“A child?” Charles blinked a few times. “How old?”

“Under two years of age.”

“Children that young are never the targets of assassination attempts. Not unless they’re the heirs to some position of power or a very large fortune. And even then, they’re almost always kidnapped and not killed immediately.”

Spencer responded, “It’s possible kidnapping was the purpose of this attack. We do know that the adult female who had custody of her was murdered while trying to flee with the child.”

“Any idea what nationality the child is? Asia’s a rather large place.”

---