Page 26 of Garrison's Creed

She looked at Cash, paused, then looked back to the road, making turn. “What do you know about Titan Group involved with Antilla?”

Son of a bitch.

More uh-huhs.

She clicked off the phone and looked at him with those warm, chocolate eyes. “I need a favor.”

Oh boy. Here it comes.“Depends.”

“I’m headed back to Langley on my terms. Bringing the other two with me. You know who hired Titan on this project?”

“Yeah.”

“The CIA?”

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Not my place. You know their section chiefs don’t talk. All that one-upmanship bull crap.”

“I know their games well, but I try not to play.”

“So what’s the favor?”

“Bring Bonnie and Clyde in with me?” she asked with a face she certainly knew he couldn’t say no to. He needed reinforcements around her, ASAP.

“That’s not a decision I can make on my own. Despite my protocol-ignoring ass last night, I can’t just fly by night to Virginia.”

“Where are you based out of?”

He laughed. “Virginia.”

“Well—”

His phone rang, cutting her off, and she handed it back to him. How long would that drive take? Hours in a car with her. He might not live through it without doing some serious, pansy, emo outtakes. Whatever. He looked at the caller ID. Jared. His boss. Not necessarily what he needed right now.

“Yeah-ello,” Cash answered, slowly and intentionally, just to screw with Jared.

“What in God’s name did you three do up there?”

Well, hello to you too, dick.“The job.”

“Why’s the CIA burning up the wires, trying to nail a commitment out of me? For something I know nothing about?”

“Last night… we had an unexpected complication.”

“Last night, you three stumbled upon a compromised female operative and wanted to play hero? That’s not a complication. That’s you boys getting ready to fucking sword fight over some pussy.”

“Watch yourself, boss man.”

“You—”

“She’s Roman’s dead sister. My dead… ex. But the girl ain’t dead. So, like I said. Complicated.”

Mark this one down in the record books. Crystal clear phone clarity and Mister Big Bad Balls was radio silent.

Which lasted less time than it took to order a Big Mac, but it was still a record. “Fine. Complicated. I need updates on all complications.” He paused, clearly working something out in his head. “CIA knows about you two?”

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