“I don’t care right now,” Rhys told her. “Right now, the only thing that matters is your safety. I’ll do what I have to.”
Maisie swallowed heavily, before she reluctantly nodded and took a step back, giving him some space.
All right,Rhys thought, pulling in a deep breath as he prepared to shift.Here goes –
“Agent Richardson! Stop right there!”
The voice that rang out across the docks was loud and strident enough to give Rhys pause.And how do they know my name?!
“Whatever you’re about to do, just listen to me first!”
Rhys could see the speaker now, though he didn’t recognize him at all – and there was also the matter that right now, he didn’t know who, exactly, he could trust. Hadn’t he sent Michael to hack into the Agency’s computer system because he’d thought there was something fishy going on?
He thought back to how Michael and Shaz had been fleeing through the streets of Sydney. While he hadn’t had much chance to think through the ramifications, being caught up with some fleeing of his own, he couldn’t believe the two things weren’t connected. Had Michael’s changes to their hotel booking somehow linked them together in the eyes of someone who had it in for them? Or were they being watched, even when they visited Michael’s apartment?
“Stay alert,” he murmured to Maisie. “I’m not sure how far I trust these guys.”
She nodded, watching them closely, clearly ready to follow his lead at a moment’s notice.
“Who the hell are you?” Rhys growled, as the men from the boat came to a halt in front of them, though Rhys could tell from their stances that they were ready for action at any moment.
“Just calm down, Agent Richardson. We’re here tohelpyou,” the foremost guy – who couldn’t look anylesslike an actually rich wanker if he tried, with his military-style flat-top haircut and thick, bull-like neck – said, holding up his hands peaceably. “The Agency’s Sydney branch sent us here on an emergency extraction mission. Foryou.”
Rhys blinked, then narrowed his eyes. He’d never seen these guys before, which wasn’t exactly telling one way or another; outside of their specific teams, agents rarely had much contact with other agents, so they’d have less information to give up if they were ever captured. But right now, he wasn’t exactly in the most trusting of moods.
“Prove it,” he snarled.
“You know I can’t. But there’s some other people on the way I hope you’ll be able to trust more,” the man said. “Believe me when I say this – you’ve been set up. We got information that one of our agents was in trouble from… well, not a source wetrust, necessarily, but one that was able to provide enough corroborating evidence that we thought we needed to check it out.”
Rhys frowned.
Michael.
That was the only person it could have been. And he must have beenreallyworried if he’d made contact with the Agency, even anonymously. He really didn’t like to draw their attention. With good reason.
That is,Rhys thought,if these guys are telling the truth.
“Who are these guys in the suits, then?” he asked, gesturing to them with a flick of the head.
“Resort security,” Flat-Top Military Haircut Guy replied, looking a little abashed. “We asked them to keep you here until we could arrive, but not approach if they could help it. You’re with some dangerous company, after all.”
Rhys couldn’t fault them for that, he guessed – that brown snake had been a pretty nasty customer, after all, even if Maisiehadmanaged to take it out with a putt-putt club.
Not to mention…
A sputtering sound behind him drew his attention, and Rhys turned to see a very sodden, annoyed-looking Brent hauling himself up over the side of the dock. He flopped face-down, wheezing, onto the ground, a puddle of seawater slowly spreading around him.
Rhys wondered if maybe Brent couldn’t swim – unlikely, but possible. On the other hand, maybe his ridiculous leather jacket and boots had just weighed him down.
“Babe… Maisie…” he spluttered out, only to notice the Agency agents standing above him,notlooking pleased. “Shit,” he had the time to get out, before he was suddenly descended upon.
Rhys watched as a slew of agents pinned Brent to the ground, whipping out a pair of what he recognized as handcuffs that would shrink or expand with his body size, keeping him from slipping out of them or busting them open if he tried to shift.
“You’re under arrest for attempted murder,” Flat-Top said, and Rhys heard Brent squawk in what sounded like real fear and confusion.
“What?! No! I never murdered anyone, I swear! You’ve got the wrong guy!”
Rhys had to admit that he was a bit surprised as well – as much as he didn’t like Brent, he didn’t seem like the murdering type. Rhys wasn’t sure that he was actually capable of it – not so much from a moral point of view, but a competence one. Brent seemed like the type to puff himself up big to try and impress people, but who wouldn’t want to put himself in a situation where he could be in physical danger.
