Undercover Accomplice. Carol Ericson
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“Then I need to figure out who kidnapped Chandler.”
“From here?” Pazir threw out one arm.
“I have to stay in hiding. You don’t.”
Pazir snorted. “I can’t exactly run around the globe and travel to Washington, either.”
“No, but you can get a message out for me, can’t you?”
“Yes.” Pazir reached into his pouch and pulled out a piece of flatbread. He ripped it in half and thrust one piece at Denver. “You want me to try to send a message to Agent Chandler?”
“I want you to send a message to one of my Delta Force team members. Hunter Mancini worked with Chandler on a covert mission once, and they got…close. You get a message to Mancini, and he can contact Chandler. Maybe she has some insight into who held her and what she was working on, but she’s afraid to say anything.”
“I can do that.” Pazir pulled a pencil and pad of paper from his bag. “Give me the details.”
As Denver chewed through the rough bread, he rattled off instructions to Pazir for contacting Mancini. “I don’t have to tell you not to let this fall into the wrong hands.”
“I give up nothing.”
“Shh.” Denver sidled along the wall of the cave and peered out the entrance. “We’re not alone.”
Pazir lunged for his weapon. “We’ll fight them off together.”
“You go.” Denver grabbed a handful of Pazir’s jacket. “I’ll distract them. Get that message to Mancini if it’s the last thing you do.”
Sue slipped the burner phone from the inside pocket of her purse. She swiped a trickle of sweat from her temple as she reread the text and ducked into the last stall in the airport bathroom. Her heart fluttered in her chest just like it always did before she made a call to The Falcon.
He answered after one ring. “Seven, one, six, six, nine.”
The numbers clicked in her brain and she responded. “Ten, five, seven, two, eight.”
“Are you secure?”
The altered voice grated against her ear as she peeked through the gap between the stall door and its frame at several women washing their hands, scolding children, and wheeling their bags in and out of the bathroom, too concerned with their own lives to worry about someone reciting numbers on a cell phone.
Their nice, normal lives.
“Yeah.”
“You got the name of the barbershop wrong. There’s no Walid there.”
“That’s not possible.”
“You misheard the name…or they purposely fed you the wrong one because they made you.”
Sue swallowed and pressed her forehead against the cool metal door. “They didn’t.”
“Because they would’ve killed you when you were with them?”
“That’s right.” Sue yanked off a length of toilet paper from the roll and stepped in front of the toilet to make it flush automatically. “I’ve been doing this for a while. I’d know.”
“That’s what I like about you, Nightingale. You’re a pro. You’ve already proven you’ll do anything for the cause.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat and sniffed. “Next move?”
“We need the correct barbershop.”
“I can’t exactly call up my contact and ask him.”
“You’ll figure it out. Like I said, you’re a pro.”
The Falcon ended the call before she could respond.
Sighing, she pushed out of the stall and washed her hands. On her way out of the bathroom, she almost bumped into her stepmother.
“Where have you been? We need to get to our gate. I can’t wait to get out of this place. I hate D.C.”
Sue dropped to her knees in front of her son, regretting that she’d spent their last precious minutes together on the phone with The Falcon—regretting so much more. She grabbed Drake’s hands and kissed the tips of his sticky fingers, inhaling the scent of cinnamon that clung to his skin. “Be a good boy for Gran on the airplane.”
Drake batted his dark eyelashes. “You go airplane, too, Mama?”
“No, cupcake. Just you and Gran this time, but I’ll visit you soon.”
Linda fluttered a tissue between the two of them. “Wipe your hands, Drake.”
“That’s not going to help, Linda. He had a cinnamon roll for breakfast. He’s going to have to wash his hands in the restroom.” Sue waved her hand behind her at the ladies’ room.
Pursing her lips, Linda snatched back the tissue. “Cinnamon rolls for breakfast? You spoil him when he’s here. I’ll get him a proper lunch once we get through security, if he still has any appetite left.”
He will unless you ruin it.
Sue managed to eke out a smile, as Drake was watching her with wide eyes. “Nothing spoils Drake’s appetite. He could eat a horse and ask for dessert.”
“We don’t eat horses, Mama.” Drake giggled and Sue pinched the end of his nose. “Give me another hug.”
Drake curled his chubby arms around her neck, and Sue pressed her tingling nose against his hair. “Love you, cupcake.”
“Love you.” Drake smacked his lips against her cheek. “Can I live here?”
“Not yet, my lovey, but soon.” Blinking the tears from her eyes, Sue straightened up and placed Drake’s hand in her stepmother’s. “Give my love to Dad.”
Linda sniffed as she yanked up the handle of her suitcase. “I don’t know why some people have children if they can’t be bothered to take care of them.”
“Linda.” Sue ducked toward her stepmother and said through clenched teeth, “I told you. This…arrangement won’t be forever, and I don’t appreciate your talking like that in front of my son.”
Linda’s pale eyes widened a fraction and she backed up. “I hope you’re not going to be landing in trouble every other month, or you’ll never have Drake with you. You were right to leave him with your sister. Children need stability. You should give up this crazy job and find yourself a husband to take care of you, a father for Drake, and settle down like your sister.”
Sue