Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 65222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Frankie shakes his head. “No, the man keeps up a respectable appearance as a legitimate business and family man. He wouldn’t bring illegal stuff to his residence.”
“You’re sure?” I press him.
“I’m only sure he’s asked for more support at the Tonacatepeque warehouse. If you give me a few days—”
“I don’t have a few days. I’ve got minutes. How far is that from here?”
Frankie shrugs. “Twenty-five minutes, give or take.”
I have no choice. I’m going to have to reconnoiter the area and hope to God she’s there.
Efficiently, I dole out the fifty thousand I promised, keeping a careful eye on his hands and body positioning. I wouldn’t put it past him to try to take me down for whatever other goodies I have in that Jeep. If he knew I actually had another fifty grand in there, I’m sure he’d make a play for it, but I didn’t let him have a peek.
With our business finished, I deliver a dire warning. “Just as I promise to keep this meeting to myself, if you tell anyone about me being here or that I’m looking for this woman you’re going to have a lot more to worry about than getting to see your wife and kid again. Understand?”
The man nods vigorously, and that’s all I need.
I wait for Orellana to leave first, then I’m on my way to Tonacatepeque. During the drive, I remember the first time I met Greer.
A bullet blew through the window, knocking out the small bit of glass remaining in the abandoned building. My back against the wall, I offered up a silent prayer of thanks that it was made of thick concrete. Of course, if my pursuers had a grenade launcher at their disposal, the walls wouldn’t be enough to protect me.
I glanced down at my watch. I was late for my ex-fil, so I started making plans to go on the down low until I could contact my handler. Surely, I could survive in the jungle amongst the drug lords of Colombia for a few days.
Figuring there was a rear exit door, I belly crawled toward the only other doorway available. Bullets screamed over my head, striking the far wall and spraying bits of concrete.
I snarled when I felt a stinging sensation in my backside—more particularly, my right ass cheek, closer to the hip. I didn’t pause to look but knew without a doubt a bullet had nicked me. I also knew it wasn’t bad, but it hurt like a son of a bitch.
I made it into the hallway relatively unscathed where, mercifully, the bullets couldn’t reach their target. I started to push into a standing position when, all of a sudden, a pair of black boots were standing before me. My eyes traveled up a pair of long legs clad in black fatigues, up to the most beautiful face I’d ever seen.
Honey-brown eyes stared down and she offered a lopsided grin. “I’m Greer, and I’m here to save you.”
She held an M4 rifle across her body and didn’t seem put out by the need to rescue me.
Still flat on my stomach, I smiled back at her. “I’m glad to meet you, Greer. I’m Ladd.”
“Figured that one out on my own,” she replied dryly, and then glanced down the hallway from where I’d just come. The echo of pinging bullets filtered toward us.
She turned on her boot and hustled in the opposite direction. I jumped up and followed.
“You missed your ex-fil,” she said, holding her rifle in a way that would cut down anyone who came at us.
No shit, I missed my ex-fil. “They usually don’t send somebody if you miss it.”
“I guess it’s your lucky day that I happen to be willing to bend the rules, isn’t it?”
Lucky day, indeed.
Greer had come in and swept me off my feet in a very unromantic way. We had made a mad-dash run for it, the bullet graze to my ass not slowing us down in the slightest.
While I can vouch for the fact that there are some incredibly beautiful women who work for the CIA, I have never been interested in one. I didn’t think it was good to mix business and pleasure.
Greer Hathaway, at that very first meeting, made me reconsider that rule.
Such an interesting start to our relationship. We had a long journey together thereafter.
An amazing journey that changed my life.
And then everything went to shit.
I haven’t seen the woman in twelve years. Even when I still worked for the CIA, our paths never crossed because her work was international and I remained stateside. Admittedly, I had suppressed the urge at times to check up on her. I could’ve easily done it by looking at her file, given my security clearance.
But I didn’t. I stuck to the promise I made myself that when I walked away from her, I was never looking back.