Page 31 of Avenging Jessie
Every muscle in Spence’s body went rigid. Jessie straightened, flicking a fearful gaze at him.
“What about him?” Spence asked, already bracing for impact.
“He didn’t show up for the morning brief.”
Jessie let out a gasp. “What?”
Spence’s stomach turned. “Maybe he was delayed.”
“That man who lives in fifteen-minute blocks? If he was going to be late, he’d have sent a coded message, three contingencies, and a backup voice memo. Nobody’s heard from him since his call to you. You know anything about this little disappearing act?”
Spence swallowed hard. “I assume you’ve checked every crevice and corner inside Langley?”
“The place is locked down tighter than a vault, and Stone is crawling up every one of our asses. The majority are pretending it’s business as usual, but we both know what that means.”
Jessie shook her head and rubbed a hand over her face. “Either he’s gone dark side or someone got to him. Jesus, please tell me you don’t think he’s dead or being flown to some foreign black site.”
Declan grunted. “I don’t think either. What I do think is that he’s coming your way. Meg and I are flying dark right now, but she’s making arrangements for us to do the same. Off the books, of course. Tessa’s digging through chatter there in Western Europe, and she and Tommy are also on their way from Prague to converge with all of us in Munich. One thing’s clear—we’re behind more than one eight ball.”
Jessie met Spence’s gaze again. No more flirting. No more shared silences or maybe-later glances. Just the cold rush of truth settling between them.
“Keep your head down,” Declan said. “If Flynn didn’t disappear on purpose to help us out, that means someone has silenced him. Someone high up in the ranks. And that means, it’s open season on all of us.”
The line went dead.
Spence stared at the screen until it dimmed. The shadows outside had deepened, bleeding toward night.
Beside him, Jessie whispered, “Shit.”
Yeah.
That about covered it.
Thirteen
Jessie
Her pulse wouldn’t slowdown.
Not from the near kiss. Not from Flynn’s ominous vanishing act.
The heat from Spence’s body lingered beside her, a whisper of what almost happened. And in the space between breaths, the mission came crashing back. The warheads weren’t nuclear, but they were just as dangerous—code and hardware instead of bombs and bullets.
Jessie pressed her palms against her thighs, staring out at the warehouse through the streaked windshield.
Flynn was gone. And if what Declan said was true, the political noose was tightening. They were officially in the dark. Off-book. Probably already considered rogue.
She took a shaky breath. While they’d considered this might happen, she still felt caught off guard. She wanted—needed—a plan. Her anxiety and PTSD were spiking hard. “What do we do, Spence? Please tell me you have that Plan B ready.”
Spence’s jaw was tight, his eyes fixed on the compound like he could will it to reveal something. When he finally spoke, his voice was just as tight as his jaw. “Same thing we were going to do before. Our mission hasn’t changed.”
Jessie nodded once. She needed that—the mission. Focus. She could unravel later. After Brewer was behind bars. Then, she could take an extended vacation in a warm spot and try to put everything behind her.
Everything except the man beside her. Her partner.
She adjusted the comms rig on her lap and slowed her breathing. Her adrenaline spiked—but this time, it was clean. Sharp. The kind that told her something big was about to happen.
And it wasn’t about drones or their MIA boss.
