“Well, aren’t you two creating quite the headlines.”
“It’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” I reply sarcastically.
“Mr Cooper, nice to see you again.” He sticks out his hand, and Owen takes it.
“You too, Mr Andrews,” he answers.
“I take it Miss Snow has been looking after you?”
“She has.” He glances across and nods. “Although her bedside manner could use some improvement.”
My eyes narrow as I look out the window towards the Thames. The distant landmark of the London Eye behind us, the pods filled with tourists who are completely oblivious to the world outside.
Just onlookers of the beautiful London skyline, eagerly pointing out the different London landmarks.
We follow the River Thames, soon leaving central London behind us.
“I’m not hired to sugar coat things, Cooper,” I retort.
“No, you’re not,” Andrews says, grinning at me.
“Tell me about the hit?” I ask, desperate for information.
“No idea. It’s a ghost hit, hit the networks this morning at 11:00 a.m.”
“Oh, what a coincidence,” I say dryly, looking at Owen. “What was happening around that time…I wonder?” I tap my chin sarcastically.
“Fuck.”
“Yeah.Fuck,” I respond blankly seeing his reaction. “I told you not to do that stupid conference, but would you listen. So fucking pig headed.”
“Enough, Kara,” Andrews interrupts, and I baulk in my seat, chastised. “So, you think it was a direct response to the press conference?” he asks.
“What else would it be? They heard what he said, and they saw me with him. So they put a hit out.”
“But the hit was for Lucy Cook, not Kara Snow. That’s what your friend said!” Owen says.
“They know Lucy, Kara. Not you.” Andrews agrees with Owen. “They saw Owen with a woman, the same woman from the gala. The woman that Owen clearly spent the night with who he clearly has feelings about. Owen’s right, it was Lucy not Kara.”
I glance at Owen, who says nothing, just watches the exchange silently.
“So, you’re saying they are using her to get to me?” Owen asks.
“Exactly that. You’re both all over the news. They saw you, identified you as Lucy Cook, and well caught us all by surprise.” Andrews shifts and leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “The thing is, Owen, they don’t know Kara. I’m disappointed in Anya, of course I am. We don’t go after our own.”
A moment of sadness washes over me. A single moment. A teeny, tiny moment as I think about the betrayal.
We’d had each other’s back on many missions, but she threw any past or friendship down the toilet for a million quid.
Rude.
“I mean, sure, a few mercenaries will know of you, but you’re a ghost. You’re the best at what you do, and you don’t leave a trail. Kara Snow is an enigma. They will be coming after Lucy, completely unprepared for what destruction you will rain down on them.”
“No hiding?” I ask, frowning.
Everything inside me is screaming to take Owen to a safehouse and wrap the fucker in bubble wrap, whilst we work out who the hell to give the sodding hard drive to so we can walk away from this.
And it hits me again; how little I truly understand what's happening. Why would Luca give it to him? Of all the people. What’s their relationship?
