Sack up, Hannah,she coached herself as she gingerly placed her soles back on the floor.Her feet were no longer numb. But she wished they were because the tile might as well have been an iceberg. The cold was so intense it burned.
After wrapping the blanket as tightly around herself as she could, she limped after Agent Mulder as he led her from the room and down a narrow, featureless hallway. Keeping her chin down, playing the submissive suspect, she covertly checked out the security around her.
It wasn’t much. There was only one camera mounted to the ceiling above a metal door that boasted a red and white “exit” sign.
Apparently, the FBI wasn’t too concerned about their prisoners escaping.
Which was exactly what she planned to do if Sam couldn’t call in a favor to get her released.
5
Black Knights Inc.
Sam watched, mesmerized, as Cesarine became Cesar.
Hannah’s best friend and roommate pulled the black wig off his head, peeled a set of wispy lashes off his lids, and used a handful of tissues from his purse to wipe what looked like ten pounds of makeup off his face. But even without all the props and beauty aids, he was still dazzlingly beautiful when he smiled at Eliza while accepting the steaming mug of coffee she handed him.
Eliza shook her head and said in an awe-struck voice, “Even without the hair and makeup, you’re still absolutely gorgeous.”
“Thank you, darling.” Cesar winked as he blew over the top of his coffee.
After taking a greedy sip, he sputtered and set the cup on the table a good foot in front of him. Then he eyed the beverage like he was afraid it might explode. Or grow legs, walk across the table, and forcefully pour itself down his throat.
“Yes, um, sorry.” Eliza wrinkled her nose. “I should’ve warned you. The coffee around here is more like espresso on crack. It’s tolerable if you mix it with creamer in a 50/50 ratio.” She hitched her chin to the creamer sitting on the serving tray in the center of the table.
“High-octane liquid life.” Fisher took a healthy gulp from his own mug of straight black java. “It’ll put a pep in your step and grow hair on your ass.”
“Just what I want.” Eliza made a face. “A hairy ass.” She cocked her head as she reconsidered her words. “Although, if it’ll keep you from propositioning me, then maybe Ishouldconsider the merits.”
“If ya think a little hair on a derriere would stop me from givin’ a woman the love she’s cravin’, then ya don’t know me at all.”
“Ifonlythat were true. I wouldlovenot to know anything about you and your various exploits with—”
“Children, children.” Ozzie patted the air. “We’ve lost the plot.”
Sam hid a grin. Most of the OG Black Knights had seven to ten years on the new crew. But Ozzie was only thirty-four—the same age as Sam. Which meant it was highly hilarious when he tried to act like BKI 2.0’s senior statesmen.
“The question remains”—Ozzie stared hard at Cesar—“what exactly is it you think we can do to help?”
Hannah’s roommate had been quick to fill them in on the FBI raid. He’d been even quicker to assure them it had to have been a mistake.
“Hannah might not be the picture of a patriot that everyone expects,”he’d said.“She doesn’t wear the flag on her chest and she’s not a lifetime member of the NRA. But shelovesthis country. Shebelievesin it. She’d never sell her soul for quick cash.”
Sam agreed. And he might’ve thoughtthe truth always prevails in the end,thoughtthe FBI will figure out they’re wrong about her,if he hadn’t spent the last decade and a half working for the government.
Like beauty, sometimes the truth was in the eye of the beholder. And when it came to games of international intrigue, national security, and espionage, the powers that be occasionally got it bass ackwards. When that happened, innocent people paid the price.
He was ready to move heaven and earth to make sure Hannah didn’t pony up one single red cent.
“I don’t know.” Cesar shook his head. “Hannah just said she was in trouble and thatyou”—he pointed directly at Sam—“were the one person who might be able to help her out of it.”
“It’d be easier if we could find out exactly what’s going on,” Ozzie said. “Like, what proof does the FBI have that she’s guilty of the thing they’re accusing her of?”
“I bet Grace could help us find out,” Fisher submitted.
“Grace is an FBI agent here in Chicago. She also happens to be the wife of one of the guys who works with us,” Eliza explained for Cesar’s benefit.
“Unfortunately, she left for her honeymoon yesterday,” Ozzie was quick to add. As soon as Hunter, Fisher, and Sam had come back from Colombia, Hunter and Grace and packed their bags and headed for Greece for a long-overdue celebration of their nuptials. “And I don’t know about the rest of you”—Ozzie looked around the table—“but I like my teeth the way they are and don’t care for the idea of Hunter rearranging them. Which he’ll do if we call and interrupt him now.”
