Page 2 of Ship Happens
As I slide into the driver’s seat of my red sports car, the curtain beside the front door moves, and my mother’s silhouette appears in the window. She slides the curtain aside and gives me a wave, and I return the motion. She’s treating this like a goodbye instead of a see-you-later. The woman has incredible intuition, but she’s wrong this time. I’ll be back.
I’m like Ross Perot in the eighties. I always come back.
I adjust the rearview mirror and apply a bit of lipstick. Castle is intimidated by pretty women, and I just so happen to be both pretty and a woman. I’m no supermodel by any standard, but with my dark hair and blue eyes, I stand out in a crowd. My eye color came from my mother, but I can only assume the dark hair was passed down from my father. I’ve never met the man.
Spring sunshine blasts through my windshield as I pick up speed on a back road. My phone rings in the cupholder, and I glance at it. It’s Castle, probably wanting to know where I am and why I’m nearly late. He’s an uptight prick, and for that reason, I let it go to voicemail and ease up on the gas. I take my time and ignore the following three calls as well.
The traffic picks up as I near the airport. Richmond International is a bit busy today, but we have to fly out of here because Castle “knows a guy.” If we want no record of ourselves or our movements, we have to operate this way. The right hand of the law doesn’t always need to know what the left hand is doing, after all.
The parking garage eventually slides into view, and I tuck my sleek car into a spot for an extended stay. I hate leaving her exposed like this, but I don’t rideshare. If I’m not in control of the car, I don’t feel safe.
Once my luggage lies in a black pile at my feet, I swipe my hand down my black pantsuit to remove the wrinkles, then snag a quick glance of myself in my car’s reflection. I’m certain to have Castle quaking in his boots. A pretty woman in a position of power will unravel him, and I am the picture of power and independence.
I don’t want to overwhelm him for the sake of overwhelming him. There are two roles up for grabs, and we were told to decide who would best fit each role. We’ve been fighting about it for weeks, and King—our division’s director—told us we couldn’t board the planes until we come to a decision. That’s why I’m bringing out the big guns.
I refuse to play the part of a killer at this retreat.
If that’s even what this is. As I said, we’ve heard the rumors. We know of the whisperings. What we don’t have is hard proof, and that’s what we’ve been tasked with retrieving. Every attempt has been blocked thus far. We’ve had agents get as far as booking a place at the retreat, only for the information to completely disappear the next day. We’ve been good, but they’ve been better.
Until now.
I spot Castle at our terminal inside the airport. He paces beside the massive window, his phone clutched in his meaty fist as he scowls at the departing planes. Sunshine blasts through the window and glints off his shining bald head. Skinny jeans hug his legs, riding a little too high on his ankles. His shirt is just as tight. Men with that much muscle should really wear looser clothing. He looks like he’s shrunk all his laundry. What a chode.
I approach him and drop my black leather carry-on bag at my feet. “Been shopping in the toddler section again, I see. Those nut crushers don’t look good on anyone, you realize.”
“I’ve changed my mind,” he says, jumping right to the meat and potatoes. “The more I thought about it, the more I realized you’d blow our fucking cover if you play the part of a killer. I can do what would need to be done. You’d choke.”
My brain analyzes his words, parsing the potential meanings as quickly as he spits out each sentence. Maybe he’s being serious. Maybe he believes I’ll jeopardize the entire operation because I’m incapable of killing someone if I’m not under duress.
Or maybe he’s playing the same game I’m playing after all.
Just as I’ve used his weaknesses against him—his weakness around pretty women in powerful positions—he could be using the same tactic against me. By challenging my abilities, he’s hoping I’ll defend my pride by swallowing the bait and demanding the position he’s now requesting. Simple reverse psychology.
“We should let a randomizer decide.” I pull a coin from my pocket. “Heads or tails?”
He licks his thin lips and looks at the coin. His skin is always a little redder than what’s normal for any human being, but now he’s turning maroon. “Let me play the criminal, Ghost.”
I inwardly cringe at the stupid fucking name. By the time I joined their task force, all the chess-piece names had been given out, and I was stuck with a maneuver. Better than En Passant, I guess. Another chode.
“I’m perfectly fine with leaving it up to fate. I mean, unless you thinkyoumight choke.” I move the silver dollar through my fingers, flicking the medallion over my knuckles with practiced ease. “Come on, Castle. You scared?”
He grits his teeth and shakes his head. “Fuck you. Flip the coin.”
“Heads, you’re the killer. Tails, I’m the criminal. Deal?”
The dumbass actually nods his head, and that’s when I realize the error of my ways. If he plays the part of the killer, he will definitely blow our cover, but if he plays the part of the stupid criminal, we might actually pull this off. I’ll just have to suck it up and become the thing I hate.
I stuff the coin back into my pocket and shake my head. “Fuck it. You can be the criminal.”
He grins and pumps his fist in the air, but the smile and enthusiasm slide off his face seconds later. “Hang on, why are you giving it up so easily? Do you know something I don’t?”
“We have the same intel, genius, so how would I know more than you?”
“Go over it again. Both sides.”
I look around. There are too many nosy people milling nearby for me to lay out our mission so plainly, so I grip his shirtsleeve and pull him and his tight-ass pants into an alcove. Once I’m certain we’re well out of earshot, I tell him all the things he should already know and has likely forgotten. The man has the brain of a goldfish.
“The criminal will meet with our operative to be placed inside the ship before the cruise is underway. The mission is to collect intel on how these criminals are housed, subdued, and transported around the retreat. The inner workings of the underpinning, if you will.”
