Miro is much better. As competitive as I am, I freely admit that. He’s the world’s best assassin who works exclusively for me. It’s not as if I need him right away, but it would be helpful to have him around when the world’s most dangerous cargo is at risk of falling into the wrong hands.
But alas, he’s obsessed with a woman and his new family. And as I watch Lake with Leo, I find it difficult to judge Miro since I can’t seem to stop myself from doing the very same thing.
That would be hypocritical of me, now wouldn’t it?
Either way, I’m dealing with a situation and he’s not.
Last night at the meeting in the vault, the PM used the code name only the transport team and I know about. Margaret. This means there’s a mole inside the transportation unit, and I can’t trust any of them, not even the weapon’s handler. Which means I need an outsider, someone, or more than one someone, to join the unit and report on them.
Some of the men I use for extractions and security from time to time volunteered last night. They have no idea what they volunteered for, and they don’t need to know. It’s cargo. The cargo’s name is Susan now, and only three people know about the name change. They need to find the mole.
A phone call interrupts the briefing, and since the handover has been made, I tap my earpiece and pick up the call. “Hello?”
“It’s me,” Miro says.
Oh, well, there he is. “What do you want?”
“Nothing. Just catching up.”
“What’s that mean?”
“I have no idea, really. I’m giving small talk a try.”
I shake my head. “You have the wrong number.”
Miro chuckles. “How are you?”
“Fine.”
“How is Val?”
“I don’t know. She took off again.”
He mumbles something, then, “And Leo?”
He’s writing something down while Lake speaks. I bet it’s dictation. “He’s fine.”
“Aren’t you going to ask how I’m doing?”
“I never approved your leave of absence.”
“I never asked for one. I’m taking one.” He crunches on something. “How is business?”
“Busy. After the mess you made, busier.”
“As soon as I settle things with Troy and the baby, I’ll make it up to you.”
I smile like the Cheshire cat. “How?”
Lots of crunching. I pull the phone away from my ear. “What are you eating?”
“Celery stick dipped in ranch. Some buffalo wings.”
I check my watch. “For breakfast?”
“Yeah. It was either that or a burger from three days ago.”
“What? No carrots sprouting in your garden?”
