Page 30 of Silent Comrade
The air in the vehicle warmed. He needed herto understand enough to believe in his plan, but not enough to riskthe team’s safety. “Well. Yes.”
“Tough toodles. I’m not an idiot. Those menare tracking us. They tried to kill us—”
“You.”
She shot him an arch expression. “Were younot on the ground, gasping for air while they kicked the crap outof you?” Her tone of voice pricked at him like rubbing up against acactus.
Of all the things she recalled about theattack, it was that part? “I was stalling so they didn’t findyou.”
“And a good job you did of it, getting beatup, incapacitated, then shot. They found me anyway.”
He puffed out his chest. “You were supposedto stay hidden.”
“Couldn’t sit back and do nothing.”
He snorted. “I … I can’t argue with youthere.”
“You were assaulted. So was I. So why aren’twe going to the police, which by the way, sounds like a normal,reasonable plan of action, and one we should have taken quite sometime ago?” She sniffed. “It’s my life, after all.”
He gripped the wheel until his wristscreaked, then took a cleansing breath. It almost worked. Heloosened his grip. “I’m with an organization that, ah, helps keeppeople safe.” Once again, he dealt in half-truth.
“Military?”
He glanced in the rearview mirror and outthe windows again. “Ex-military.”
A minute-long pause. “That’s it?”
“That’s all I can tell you.”
“So, no police?”
“Well. Our team technically doesn’t exist.For a whole bunch of reasons, we need to keep it that way. Policewould complicate things.”
“Sounds like a convenient excuse not to call911, but let’s go with your explanation for a minute.” She huffed.“Who were those men? Why did they mention my sister?”
“Those men are bad. My team is protectingyour sisters and your father.”
“What?” She rubbed her neck, then droppedher hands on her lap. “Hope the other people on your team arebetter at their jobs than you are.”
Damn, her assessment stung. Fair. He hadfailed his mission today, but he was only a single operatordefending an unaware target against a much larger andwell-resourced organization. Asymmetrical warfare, if he ever sawit. “Hey, they didn’t teach department store hand-to-hand combat inthe military.” He backed up and exited the garage, pulling onto thestreet with a lurch of too much gas pedal.
“Touchy.” Her smirk and chin tilt bugged thehell out of him.
Britt managed to irritate nerves he didn’tknow he had.
Her presence woke up a few different typesof nerves as well. Fine time to be thinking about anything otherthan the mission. He shifted in the seat.
Even with his body battered, exhausted, andhypervigilant, some small part of his brain remembered their kissand how she felt in his arms. His brain reminded him in detail howhe’d like to take things further with Britt.
“Look out!” she said, as he got too close tothe curb.
He jerked the car back firmly between thelines. Red was in big trouble. He concentrated on driving slowly.Moseying along. Nothing to see here. Just a mildly dinged-upminivan from Alabama.
Another several minutes passed as hemaneuvered the vehicle through the tangled grid of downtown Atlantastreets and the seemingly endless stoplights.
She broke the silence. “Where are we goingnow?”
“Safe house.”
