Page 18 of While You Were Spying
Just when I believe I’m getting through to him, that he can finally see things from my perspective, he gives me another of his sexy, it’s-never-going-to-happen grunts.
And…game over.
6
Isabelle
The next morning,I drive to my meeting with Adam. Both he and Landon are in the parking lot when I arrive at the old warehouse outside of San Francisco.
To the average person, the building and surrounding area are abandoned, possibly even haunted—if you believe in that kind of stuff. You can’t see the parked cars from the road, further adding to the building’s abandoned appearance.
Inside? That’s a whole different game.
Adam and Landon aren’t the only individuals in the parking lot. Four other men and a woman are suiting up in protective gear.
Paintball gear.
What Jayden and Liam don’t realize is that I’ve been training with Landon and Adam for the past year. The property also has a shooting range, which the general public isn’t aware exists. It’s for law enforcement and ex-military, but thanks to Adam’s connections, I’ve been allowed to train here, too, as long as I’m with him.
“Lewis, you’re with Berkshire, Hathaway, and Reed,” Joe Gardner, a retired naval officer, says, voice booming like a cannon. “Kilpatrick, Cunninghan, and Alward, you’re with me.”
Carl Lewis introduces himself to the three of us. Adam, Landon, and I have trained with Susan Kilpatrick and Pierre Alward two other times. So we know they’re damn good.
We don our protection. Gardner’s team heads into the building. The layout inside changes once a month, so we never know what to expect. It keeps us on our toes like in real life, when Adam and Landon are in the field.
We give Gardner’s team ten minutes to set up position while we read the dossier he handed us when we arrived.
“Suspected terrorists have kidnapped the mayor’s daughter. Negotiations have broken down,” Landon says, reading the first page. “And now we have to extract the six-year-old. She’s being held captive in an amusement park ride.”
We load our weapons.
“Good luck,” Carl says to me with a nod, his gaze doing a quick but unsubtle sweep of my body. I catch Landon rolling his eyes. Carl misses it.
We cautiously enter the building, Landon leading the way. Carl is in front of me. Adam has my back.
The area is dimly lit, other than the spotlights shining on the different parts of the setting. Shapes that resemble trees and woodland critters had been cut from plywood and painted to appear cute and cheerful.
The only thing that isn’t so cute and cheerful is the army of demented-looking dolls. It’s like Chucky’s family reunion meets Disneyland.
Music suddenly blares through the speakers above us and throughout the area.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Carl grumbles.
I don’t think it’s the loud music, per se, that he’s complaining about as much as the selection: “It’s a Small World.”
“Maybe this is the latest in terrorist torture techniques.” I keep my voice low enough so the other team can’t hear me over the music.
“I’m sure if it had existed back in the days of the Spanish Inquisition,” Adam says, “this would have been the theme song.”
Now we just have to hope none of us go insane before we take down the other team.
The hallway splits off. Landon gestures that he and Carl will continue straight ahead. Adam and I are to proceed along the other hall. The lighting is dimmer, the spotlights absent.
He and I peel away from them and keep moving forward, doing our best not to betray our location to the enemy. His back is pressed against the opposite wall, which isn’t easy to do. Crazy funhouse mirrors cover the walls.
Our paint guns are held at the ready.
And the music plays on.
