government.”
Rip riffled through the contents of the packet, glancing at a passport with his picture on it as well as a name he’d never seen. “Chuck Gideon?”
“Better get used to it.”
“Speaking of names…we’ve already kissed and you haven’t told me who you are.” Rip glanced her way briefly.
Her eyes narrowed and her lips firmed. “No, I haven’t.”
“Is it a secret? Do you have a shady past or are you related to someone important.”
“For this mission, I’m related to someone important.” She twisted her lips and sent a crooked grin his way. “You. For the purpose of this operation, you can call me Phyllis. Phyllis Gideon. I’ll be your wife.”
Tracie Kosart had recognized the man in the casino immediately from the photo Hank Derringer had given her and realized that could be a problem. Even with his shaggy long hair, the breadth of his shoulders, the stubborn set of his chin and the steely look in his gray-blue eyes set him apart from the other gamblers there hoping to score a big win.
Though he’d been slouching on the stool, he looked as if he could spring into action at a moment’s notice. Now as he sat opposite her in the interior of her truck, he filled the space, his shoulders seeming to block her entire view.
“Phyllis, huh?” He stared at her, his eyes narrowing. “You don’t look like a Phyllis.”
“It doesn’t matter.” When he looked at her so intently, it made her body heat and her belly tighten.
“Missy?”
“What?”
“Jasmine, Lois, Penelope? I could list names all day.” He pinned her with his stare, a sassy smirk on his face. “You might as well tell me.”
“Penelope?” She shot a glance at him, her mouth twitching as she fought a smile. “You think I look like a Penelope?”
“Some parents have a sense of humor.” He raised his brows. “Well?”
She sighed. “Tracie. My name’s Tracie Kosart.”
“That’s better.” He stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Tracie. And by the way, the name fits you better than Phyllis.”
She took one hand off the steering wheel to shake his, an electrical surge racing up her arm from their joined fingers. Tracie yanked her hand back and wrapped it tightly around the steering wheel, willing the surge of fiery heat to fade.
“You and Derringer seem to have this all worked out.” Rip leaned back in his set. “Where to first?”
“We’ve looked over all the photos the dead agent left you, along with the after-action report from the extraction operation and we really don’t have much to go on. Yes, they prove the terrorists are receiving American-made weapons in World Health Organization boxes. But we don’t know for certain who is sending them or at what point they are packaged to ship via WHO.” Tracie shifted the big truck into Drive and pulled out of the parking lot.
Rip nodded. “I’m betting the World Health Organization didn’t send those boxes.”
“What we need is one of those guns so that we can trace the serial number on it back to the manufacturer. Short of going to Honduras to get one, we should exhaust all other stateside options first.”
“Okay, what options?” The SEAL beside her crossed his arms, which made his biceps appear bigger than they already did.
Tracie had to focus on the road to keep from openly drooling. The man had testosterone oozing from every pore. For a moment she forgot Rip’s question—then it came back to her. “I was hoping you had some ideas. We think the DEA agent’s boss had to have been receiving data from him. He might have other operatives inside the terrorist group or in nearby towns.”
“And how do we find Dan Greer’s boss?”
Tracie snorted softly. “Hank already has. He was able to tap into the DEA database and extract that information.” Hank had the connections, the computer power and a technical guru who could tap into any system.
“I’m surprised Hank hasn’t already contacted the agent’s boss.”
A muffled beep sounded in the console between them. Tracie lifted a cell phone out of a cup holder and glanced down at a text. Her lips formed a broad smile. “As a matter of fact, he has. We have a meeting with Morris Franks in Atlanta in three hours.”
Rip gave her a doubtful smile. “Honey, it takes a lot longer than three hours to drive to Atlanta.”
She turned onto a highway and jerked her head toward a green sign with an airplane depicted in white. “What did I say about having Hank’s Citation X available?” Tracie softened. As a former FBI agent, she remembered how unbelievable Hank’s assets were when she’d first been exposed to them. “Prepare to be impressed.”
Instead of driving through the terminal area of the Biloxi airport, she drove on to the private businesses’ hangars along the runway and parked outside one of them.
As they climbed out of the truck, the door to the structure opened and a man stepped out. “Right this way, Mr. & Mrs. Gideon. I’m Tom Callahan. We’ve topped off the fuel, your pilot has performed the preflight checklist and he’s filed the flight plan. The jet is ready for takeoff whenever you two say the word.” Tom smiled. “And congratulations on your recent marriage.”
Tracie almost did a double take until she remembered that was their cover story. “Th-thank you.”
A hand settled at the small of her back. “It all happened so quickly, we’re still getting used to it, aren’t we, dear?” Rip guided her through the doorway into a reception area.
Tom led the way past a desk to another door that opened into the hangar where a shiny new Citation X airplane sat on the tarmac. The huge hangar door slid open, sunlight cutting a wide swath into the dim interior.
“Shall we?” Tracie asked.
Rip waved a hand. “Ladies first.” Tracie climbed the short set of stairs into the cabin and took the first seat on the far side.
Ducking to keep from bumping his head, Rip entered the cabin and dropped into the seat beside her.
As soon as they were aboard, a flight attendant pulled the door closed, and the engines ignited.
Soon the small jet, with seating for twelve, taxied down the runway and lifted smoothly into the air.
“Okay, now I’m impressed,” Rip whispered. “How long will it take to get to Atlanta?”
Tracie glanced at her watch. “We should be there in less than an hour. In the meantime, we should go over what data the DEA agent was able to pass off before he died and the after-action report, one more time to see
