The line was dead for a second until Valentina said, “Even if that was true, her presence at Inner-G is a problem.”
“Yes,” Markus and Gabby both agreed.
“Someone is lying about that phone call, which we need to look into, but first things first: Inner-G is still in a position to bilk Sheridan for sensitive info and leak it.” Sounding more sure of herself, she said, “That’s our number one concern.”
“Should we just take Sheridan and leave?” Gabby said, feeling like she was stating the obvious. “That would solve the problem.”
“We can’t. She’s an American citizen,” Markus said. “She didn’t steal classified information. The president just dumped it on her while she was reading tea leaves or whatever she does. If she asks for help, we can. If she’s joined Inner-G and wants to get a hot stone massage, we can’t stop her.”
“Well, put the afterburners on finding that leak.” Valentina paused before saying, “The stakes of this mission just escalated. You two have your work cut out for you.”
Markus leaned back, and Gabby exhaled in frustration. “So what do we do?”
“Do what you were doing,” Valentina said, “but more of it. And faster.”
“Ten-four,” Markus said.
“Oh, and don’t get distracted. I know they put you two in thehoneymoon cottage, and I’m here to remind you—this is not a honeymoon.”
Be More. Do More. No fun.
When they hung up with Valentina, Markus must have sensed Gabby’s waning spirits. He didn’t smile or cajole her. Deadpan, he said, “Don’t worry. We got this.”
“Do we?” She didn’t want to remind him about the morning—an unwanted striptease followed by a contraband discovery.
“Gabby, we are Elite Operatives for the CIA. Jasmine invited you to matcha—”
“I’m not sure that was an invitation.”
“Close enough. Mingle with her girls—you need to be there. Listen in, make friends, ask questions. Wedding planning might provide you access we can use.”
Save democracy. Plan a wedding. Rock a shirt-bra. All in a day’s work.
“What are you going to do?” Gabby asked.
“Whatever bullshit Genesis makes up next. Every day with him is like a spirit quest.”
He handed her the fanny pack, and she buckled it on like she was strapping in for the mission. “Got it.”
“I put a protein bar and some sunscreen for you,” he said.
“Really?”
“You can’t be saving the world sunburned and hungry,” he said.
Gabby blinked back, flabbergasted. It was just a little thing, but still.
Markus walked her back to matcha hour with Jasmine. Within sight of the matcha crowd, he brought her in for a kiss, the kind of kiss shared by two people who have been intimate. The way her cheek pressed against the soft skin of his neck when she tilted herface up just so—it was familiar, but fraught with so much uncertainty. Her blood heated with feverish desperation.
“Don’t save the world without me this time,” he whispered. Gabby’s vision blurred from the scent of his aftershave blooming in the tropical air, and her breasts pressed suggestively into his chest.
Too abruptly for the intimacy of the moment, Markus released her and stepped back. “Go get ’em, tiger!”
Morning tea, Jasmine’s “office”
With the smell of Markus’s aftershave still tickling her senses, Gabby tripped her way toward Jasmine’s beach “office.” It was another small building, tucked along the edges of the Japanese gardens. At the door, she stopped to take a breath and collect herself. Her mission: Find out who in the inner circle had motive and means to drag the president’s reputation or just seemed like they might have been selling stories to the press.
Jasmine’s voice sounded clearly through the door. “Lana, what are you thinking?”
