Then there was the fact that Dudaev’s thugs had been sent after them. Taken together with what she knew about Nick—his conscience, the way he’d watched over her these past couple of days, his faith that these files would clear his name—it indicated he was being truthful with her. She had her answer.
“I believe you.” It almost hurt to say it.
“You believe me?” He repeated her words, surprise on his face.
“I believe you’ve been set up. I believe you didn’t know I was with the Agency. That doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you. You’ve lied to me and used me, so it’s hard for me to trust you. What you want from me requires a lot of trust. If I help you crack that password, I’ll be held culpable for the theft and misuse of those files, too. I don’t want to go to prison.”
He nodded, as if he understood. “Those files may be the only chance I have of finding out what happened that night and proving my innocence. They may be your only chance of discovering why Bauer wants you dead.”
“But won’t the truth come out anyway once Langley sorts through the files? Why put yourself at risk like this? Why not trust that justice will take its course?”
“Langley has the files from the USB that you retrieved for them. I cloned Dudaev’s entire hard drive, which I then gave to Bauer personally. I doubt the information on that drive made it beyond his office.”
Holly hadn’t realized that.
Nick glanced at his watch. “We should go, try to get supplies before the stores close. You need more Benadryl.”
“Yeah. Okay.” Holly was sure her CO would have responded by now, but it wouldn’t be easy to check her Twitter account. From what she remembered, the grocery store was on the other side of the highway from the Internet café. If she could convince Nick to drop her off and do the shopping without her, she could check her accounts and see what her CO wanted her to do.
And what if he wants you to turn Nick in?
The thought left her feeling uneasy.
“I’ve been craving a latte all day. Maybe there’s a coffee shop nearby.”
He muttered something about needing to find a liquor store instead.
She followed him upstairs, slipped into a pair of flip-flops, and grabbed the awful denim handbag she’d gotten at the thrift store. Outside, the sun had begun to set.
He grabbed the keys off the kitchen counter. “Don’t forget Holly Junior.”
“What?”
“The baby.” He grinned, pointing. “You didn’t want to help me name her, so Daddy had to do it himself.”
Holly glared at him, grabbed the doll off the floor, and followed him out the door.
* * *
Nick drove down the old dirt road that led to the highway, the sun low on the western horizon. Holly sat in the passenger’s seat beside him, the doll buckled into its child seat. It struck him as funny. “Here we are—a modern family out for a drive.”
Holly gave him a reluctant smile, then laughed, the sound warming him. “Don’t judge. Families come in all shapes and sizes.”
Did Holly really believe him?
There’s no way Nick could be certain. If she was going to turn him in or run, it made sense for her to try to convince him that she believed him in order to win his trust. If that was her game, she’d make a move soon.
And what would he do if she did turn him in?
He didn’t want to hurt her. He couldn’t kill her.
They drove with the windows down, the cool evening air blowing through Holly’s hair, the sunset reflected in the mirrored lenses of the cheap aviator-style sunglasses she’d bought at the grocery store. Somehow, despite the bruising on her forehead and wrists and the welts on her skin, she managed to look like a million bucks, frosty pink lip gloss making her lips look edible, that black sundress clinging to her curves.
“You probably should have worn something else.”
If she walked into the store like that, she’d attract a lot of attention.
She glanced down at her wrists. “Is your jacket still in the back?”
“I think so.”
She unbuckled the seat belt, planted one silky leg between her seat and the center console, and bent over to reach into the back seat, her motions giving him a glimpse of her panties and luscious ass.
Eyes on the road, Andris.
She turned and sat again, his jacket in one hand. “What about this Lee Nguyen you mentioned?”
“He’s directly under Bauer. He was promoted a few months after the debacle in Batumi. He and I served together in Delta Force. He was recruited by the Agency a couple of years before I was. He put in a good word for me.”
“Do you think he’s involved?” Holly scratched at her welts again.
“He was in the room when Bauer handed me this assignment. He took part in the conversation. He even warned me about you, told me you were a pro. He was standing there when I handed Dudaev’s laptop over to Bauer.”
“I guess he has to be in on it, then.”
“I suppose so.” The thought left a bitter taste in Nick’s mouth.
She looked over at him. “I’m sorry. It sucks to realize someone you believed in has betrayed you.”
Was that a hint of sarcasm he heard in her voice, a reminder that he had betrayed her? She needed to get over that. They’d been intimate for just three days. True, he’d put her through hell after that, but he’d thought she was a traitor.
He and Nguyen, on the other hand, had trained together, fought together, bled together. They’d become brothers. They were supposed to have each other’s backs.
“I wonder if Nguyen was promoted so that Bauer could keep an eye on him. What better way to watch over someone who has sensitive information about you than to put him in the office next door?”
“I hadn’t thought of that.” Nick turned onto the two-lane highway, heading south, the landscape on either side of the road nothing but dry-as-bones earth dotted with prickly pear cactus and yucca. “The Great American Desert.”
“If you ask me, the pioneers were crazy.”
That made Nick smile. For all her love of luxury and comfort, she hadn’t wasted time complaining about their situation or the second-hand clothes she was wearing. She probably had more in common with the pioneers than she realized. “Yeah, there’s nothing you hate like adventure.”
She looked over the top of her sunglasses at him, a hint of a smile on her lips.
And for a while they drove in silence.
It was Holly who spoke first. “Why would a man in Bauer’s position send thugs from the Georgian mafia after us? Why not send someone from the Agency to carry out the hit, especially given your status as a fugitive?”
That seemed obvious. “Killing us wasn’t authorized.”
“Exactly. It was personal. If Bauer used Dudaev’s men for his dirty business yesterday, then I have to believe he’s done it before. That means he has ties with them, ties that perhaps date back to that night in Batumi.”
“I’ve been thinking the exact same thing.”
“It seems incredible to think that Bauer might have been the leak—Martin Bauer of all people. Why would he do that?”
“That’s what I hope to find out.”
“I met Bauer one night at an Agency event.”
That was news to Nick.
“It was a long time ago. I doubt he remembers me, but I remember him. God, I was so in awe of him, almost afraid to shake his hand. To think that he’s dirty, that he wants me dead. It doesn’t feel real or even seem possible.”
Nick didn’t think any man who’d met Holly would forget her, but he didn’t say that. “I know what you mean. He’s been my supervisor for three years.”
The lights of the shopping center appeared in the distance.
“When we get to the grocery store, you could head inside, while I drive to the coffee shop and pick you up on the way back. I think there’s a coffee shop near the thrift store.”
There was nothing about Holly’s words or her voice
that hinted she wanted to do anything other than satisfy her latte craving. He’d left her alone in the vehicle and let her go her own way before—when he’d cleared the house, when she’d gone to the thrift store, when they’d bought groceries. The fact that he was still a free man tended to support the idea that she hadn’t turned him in yet.
Still, he couldn’t risk having her take off with the vehicle. “How about I drop you off at the coffee shop and pick you up on my way back?”
“Okay. That works.”
He turned left into the parking lot at the hardware store and saw the coffee shop. It was right next door to the thrift shop, and it wasn’t just a coffee shop. It was also an Internet café. He pulled up in front, stopped the vehicle. “Grab a pound of coffee to take back with us while you’re there.”
She put on his jacket and climbed out, denim handbag slung over her shoulder. “See you in a bit.”
Nick drove across the street, watched in the rearview mirror as she entered the coffee shop, then turned the vehicle around.
Chapter Seventeen
Holly propped her sunglasses up on her head, sat at one of the computers, and logged in to her IP blocker, trying not to scratch.
Oh, these damned stings itched!
While the IP-blocking program booted up, she ordered a skinny no-whip mocha from a young blond woman in a Taylor Swift T-shirt and tight Levis, put a pound of ground beans on the counter, and paid, feeling strangely nervous.
What if her CO wanted her to turn Nick in? Once she’d received his orders and deciphered them, she’d be obligated to carry them out.
She’d taken a vow to the Agency. That had to come first, didn’t it?
And yet as much as she trusted her CO, she didn’t want to unleash a chain of events that got Nick thrown unjustly in prison or killed.
She carried her drink and the coffee back to her computer and logged in to her secret Twitter account. She had six private messages. She printed them, then went to her CO’s secret Twitter account and printed the key. She would have to be quick if she was going to decode these and craft a response before Nick came for her.
She took a sip of her mocha, spread the printouts on the table, and was about to reach into her handbag for a pencil when a man’s hand closed around her wrist.
“So you believe me, do you, honey?” Nick whispered in her ear.
Her pulse skipped.
He’d doubled back to check on her.
“Yes, I do,” she whispered back.
“You’ve got a damned peculiar way of showing it.” His gaze traveled over the screen, took in the string of ciphertext messages, including the one she’d sent. “Print all of this—with the keys.”
“I just did.”
“Print the one you sent, too.”
“I can—”
“Do it!”
“Calm down or you’re going to make a scene.” She did as he asked.
“And the key.”
“That’s in my head.”
While he watched, she logged out and deleted her browsing history, then gathered the printed pages, folded them, and tucked them in her handbag. She picked up her latte—she wasn’t leaving it behind—and stood.
Nick’s arm went around her shoulders, turned her toward the door.
She drew back. “We need to pay for the printing.”
He tossed a five-dollar bill on the counter, smiled at the woman behind the counter. “This is for the printing. Keep the change.”
The woman stared at him like she’d never seen a man before. “Goodnight! Come back and see us again.”
He pressed his lips to Holly’s ear in what probably looked like a kiss and whispered, “Move.”
His arm still around her shoulders, he compelled her toward the door, his body so close to hers that she could feel steel in his jeans.
“Is that a pistol in your pocket or are you happy to see—”
“Just walk.”
When they stepped outside, Nick took Holly’s arm. “You know, I almost bought your act. What a fucking idiot I am!”
“Yes, you certainly are, but not for the reasons you think.”
He walked her to the passenger-side door, opened it, crowding her, making it clear with his body language that he’d stop her if she tried to run. “Get in.”
“That’s ‘Get in, please’—unless you’re abducting me again.”
He glared at her. “This isn’t a game, Holly.”
Holly spent a moment wondering how she could get out of this situation, and realized she probably couldn’t, not without causing a scene that might have disastrous consequences for them both.
She climbed in, and he locked the doors with the remote, walked around, and let himself in with the key. “Did you give away our location?”
She looked him straight in the eyes. “No. My life is at stake. Under the current circumstances, I don’t trust my messages to reach my CO unobserved. I used a subscription IP blocker.”
“You sent that first message yesterday morning when you were supposed to be in the thrift store.”
“I saw my chance and took it.” She knew he was wondering whether Langley would have had enough time to deploy a team to bring him in. “And, technically, it was three messages—a hundred forty characters each. I didn’t tell them where we were. Do you want me to decode these?”
“Here? Now?”
“Of course.” She pulled the pages out of her handbag, turned on the overhead light, and took a pencil from her purse. “I can tell you what mine says.”
She wrote the plaintext of her message over the ciphertext, which was divided into standard blocks of four double-digit numbers, then jotted the key equation down in the margins and handed it to him.
He read the words aloud. “Unhurt. Was abducted by Andris. He knows my employer. Says he was ordered to terminate me. Says he has been set up by his CO. Believe he might be telling the truth. Dudaev’s men found us at remote location. Andris claims only his boss knew we were there. At safe location with Andris. No Internet access. No phone. He poses no threat to me at this time. Please advise.”
“See, you big bully? I didn’t give you away.”
Some of the anger left his face. “I’ll want to double check this myself.”
“Suit yourself. The key is right there.” She studied the key to the new messages, memorized it, then began decoding.
Relief flooded her as words began to take shape before her eyes.
She saw Nick watching her. “What is it?”
“You can do that in your head?” He sounded impressed.
“I do have a brain, you know.”
“Why didn’t you go into cryptography?”
“Boooooring. Who wants to do that all day? God, no! Besides, there are a lot of people who are good at that, but very few who can do what I do.”
She wrote the corresponding letters over each pair of numbers and read through the message again. “Are you sure you want to see this?”
“What do you think?” He jerked the pages out of her hands.
Believe you are both in peril. Andris still considered a CI threat and dangerous. Remain with him as long as you are safe. Use any means to learn truth of his claims or facts related to ‘Batumi op.’ Report to me. Trust no one else. Urge him to surrender. Will guarantee his safety.
Holly watched his expression change from anger to surprise to amusement.
He looked up, a lopsided grin on his face. “So you’re spying on me now.”
“You’re not supposed to know that.”
“I think it’s better that I do.” He glanced down at the decoded message. “Does this mean you’re free to help me crack that password?”
Holly thought about that for a moment. Her CO didn’t know Nick had cloned Dudaev’s hard drive. Then again, he’d said she was to use any means. If there was information on that drive that could exonerate Nick and bring the truth to light, her CO would surely be in favor of her helping. “Yes. I’ll help you.”
?
??Stop scratching.” Nick tucked the pages into the center console, glanced at his watch, restarted the engine. “We need to get to the store. It’s about to close.”
They crossed the highway, Holly savoring a few more sips of her latte.
Nick parked, looked over at her. “What would you have done if he’d ordered you to turn me in?”
“I guess we’ll never know.”
* * *
An hour later, Holly lay on her belly on her air mattress, drowsy from another dose of Benadryl, the maddening itching dulled but not gone. The room would have been stiflingly hot if not for the fan, which blew cool night air in through the window.
Nick sat on the floor beside her, rubbing ice cubes on her back.
It was a kind thing for him to do, and she had to concede that in addition to being an ass for betraying and humiliating her, he was also a good person.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For everything you’ve done to help me since I was stung.” There was more. “And for not killing me. You disobeyed orders. That was kind of a big thing.”
“You’re welcome. Thanks for not turning me in. Thanks for believing me. That’s kind of a big thing, too.” His voice was deep, soft.
“I didn’t want to believe you.”
“No, I suppose you didn’t.”
“It would be so much easier just to hate you.”
“Yeah, I guess it would be.” He sounded amused.
“It’s not funny. What you did to me—it wasn’t funny.”
“I know it wasn’t. I’d take it back if I could. But isn’t it what you do?”
“No!” It irritated her that he didn’t understand. “Most of the time, my job is to set people up for surveillance—to plant GPS devices or listening devices. Sometimes I have no choice but to sleep with one of them, but I try hard to get my job done before their pants come off. I never pretend to have a relationship with them. I just act like I find them irresistible and fascinating.”
In that respect, she supposed she’d had it coming.
“I underestimated you.”