Page 6 of Avenging Jessie
The woman snorted and rose, making a show of tightening her trench coat belt. “He doesn’t show his face in public.” It was said with aduhtone in her voice. “Otherwise, we’d already have caught him.”
She vanished into the foot traffic. Jessie casually snatched up the paper bag and stuffed it into her backpack.
Back at the hotel, the air inside their connecting suites smelled like stale carpet and industrial cleaner, and the heat was too high, drying out her throat and temper. Jessie stripped off her jacket and tossed it onto the bed. She hadn’t unpacked. She didn’t plan to be here long.
Spence, leaning in the doorway that connected their rooms, had his laptop balanced on one forearm and his phone in his other hand. He watched her like a man studying the edges of a minefield. Yet, he still seemed unbothered. Totally confident. It made her want to throw something.
“I did a little digging.” He strolled across the carpet and dumped his gear on the white French provincial-style desk. “That gala is at the Bayerische Staatsbibliothek—State Library, right in the heart of the city. Black-tie. Security’s tight, but not impossible to breach. Especially if we have an invitation.”
Jessie shook her head and dug the paper bag out of her backpack. Inside was a manila envelope. “Unless you’ve got a tux stashed in your fancy suitcase, I don’t see that happening.”
He grinned without looking up, his fingers flying over his keyboard. “Even better. We go as a couple. Pretend we’re donors. Maybe even get a dance or two in while we track Keller.”
She was about to grab the map from the envelope, but stopped. “Are you serious?”
“Deadly.”
“That’s your big plan? Posing as a power couple at a gala?”
He finally looked up. “It’s the easiest play. We blend in. Get close to Keller without raising red flags.”
She opened her mouth to argue—but he turned the laptop toward her. A grainy photo filled the screen. “This is our guy,” he said.
Keller, smiling in a gray tailored suit, was posing and shaking hands with a German telecom CEO. Her stomach fled south to her toes. “That’s not Jonas Keller.”
“What?” Spence double-checked the screen. “That’s what it says.” He read off the man’s bio listed in the article.
She might not have recognized the change in his hair or the plastic surgery he’d had done, but she knew those eyes.Hastings.
Jonas fucking Hastings.
The room tilted, and she dropped the envelope onto the bed. Her breath stuck in her lungs. Memories of failure, of betrayal, came rushing back.
Seeing her reaction, Spence straightened. “What’s wrong? Who is he?”
Jessie sat heavily on the edge of the blue and white striped comforter. “He was my first handler, Jonas Hastings. He trained me. Used me. Then vanished. Langley suspected he was leaking intel. They gave me an off-the-books op to confirm it. My first mission was investigating my own handler as a traitor.”
Spence stilled. “What happened?”
So many years ago now. So much had happened. “Doesn’t matter.” She stiffened her spine. “I can take him down with Brewer.”
Spence shifted in the chair. “It does too matter. I need the details. This mission isn’t about him, and if he’s going to blow the op, I need to know.”
She wouldn’t let him. Her fingers fiddled with the manila envelope. “I got close to him back then. He realized I was on to him, and that’s when he disappeared.” A derisive laugh left her lips. “I blew my first official mission, so yeah, he knows me. If he sees me at the gala, we’re blown before we even get started.”
Spence was quiet for a long moment, then shut the laptop. “He’s reinvented himself as Jonas Keller.”
She rubbed her eyes. “He’s changed his appearance, but that’s him. I’m sure of it. And apparently, he’s working with Brewer.” She let out a huff. “God, I never would’ve thought the two of them would team up, but the truth is, they’re a lot alike.”
Spence paced, rubbed his hands together. Glanced out the window. “If he’s allied with Brewer, the gala’s still our best shot at tagging him and figuring out where Brewer is.”
“No,” she said, pushing to her feet. “We’ll find another way.”
“Jess—”
“He’ll make me. Besides, I’m not going into that place pretending to be some giggling arm-candy while the man who nearly wrecked my career before it even started sips champagne.”
Spence kept his tone neutral. “He won’t even see you if we do this right. You want justice? This is how we get it. You’re just as skilled as anyone at changing your appearance.”
