“Where’s the rest of the evidence?” Wolfe asked.
Raider thought through several scenarios. “I gave it to my best man, Roscoe, to hide somewhere.” He had given Roscoe a good bone that had quickly disappeared. “My instructions were to put it all somewhere I’d never imagine, so if Eddie does torture me, I don’t have the information.” Man, hopefully Eddie would believe him. And it was true. Force had taken half of the journal, tapes, and pictures somewhere he didn’t share with Raider, just in case.
“If you’re bleeding out, why can’t you call Roscoe?” Wolfe asked calmly.
Probably because he would be bleeding out and losing consciousness. “Roscoe doesn’t have a phone. He’s to contact me in a week from a burner to see if I’m still alive. Under no circumstances is he to give me the evidence.” There was a slim chance that one fact would keep Raider alive.
Wolfe pulled into the vacant lot of what used to be a gas station. A rustyRed and Sons Petrolsign hung drunkenly from the boarded-up square building. “This is where I get out. I’ll walk back to the motel and check for escape routes if we end up on foot.” He leaned over and held out a hand.
Raider shook it. “Thanks, Wolfe.”
“Yep. You’ve got this.” Wolfe smiled, the sight grim. “Embrace the new identity but keep as quiet as you can. Never volunteer anything. Give the code word, and we’ll come in, guns out.”
Adrenaline flowed freely through Raider’s veins as he released his friend. The unit had bonded quickly, and he trusted Wolfe and Force with his life. With Brigid’s life, too. “Thanks, Wolfe.”
“Yep.” Wolfe opened the door and jumped out, leaving the vehicle for Raider. “Just don’t die, Tanaka.”
Always good advice. Raider climbed over the console to the driver’s seat and shut the door. It was time to become somebody else. Hopefully he wouldn’t die as that person.
He put the SUV in drive and dove completely into his cover.
Chapter Twenty-Six
After a long day conducting an even deeper search into Eddie Coonan’s organization, Brigid had filled a notebook with the names of every person he’d ever done business with. She’d left it at the office. She’d also spent serious time scrubbing any pictures of Raider from the web. There were only a couple, mainly from an op he’d conducted with their unit the previous month. But no scrub was complete. She’d done the best job possible, and her neck muscles felt like somebody had pounded concrete into them.
She waited at the entrance to her apartment as Malcolm and the dog conducted a cursory search. Rolling her eyes, she walked into the small living room. “I don’t see the necessity of you guys checking out the place every time I come home. Nobody knows I’m here.”
Malcolm prowled out of her bedroom. “You have a guy jump out of your closet one night at you, and you’ll wish I had checked it out first.”
Well, that was true. Geez. Though Malcolm, in his ripped shirt and facial scruff, looked tons more dangerous than any crazy guy in a closet would. Except for the furry white kitten head visible from his right pocket. Roscoe returned to her, his tail wagging, his tongue out.
Malcolm stopped right in front of her, so large she almost backed up to look him in the face. “You sure you don’t want to come and stay with Pippa and me tonight?”
She nodded. “I want to stay here, but I should be at work.”
Mal shrugged. “The communication devices on Raider only work a short distance away. We can’t communicate with him. Wolfe and Force are excellent backup, and they’re in place. So there’s nothing more for you to do than get some sleep. We need you on your game tomorrow.”
Whatever. “Okay.” She patted Roscoe’s head and the dog nudged her, nearly knocking her over.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come with me? Pippa is making some sort of fancy steak-and-noodles dish.”
Okay. That sounded amazing. But being with a happy couple right now was more than Brigid could take. She wasn’t sure where she was with Raider, and she needed some alone time. “I’m sure, and you can leave the kitten if you want.” She was safe enough with the handgun in her bed-table drawer and the ex-soldier German shepherd at her feet. She wasn’t supposed to let him sleep on the foot of the bed, but what Angus Force didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
“I promised Pippa I’d bring home Kat,” Malcolm said. “But you get the dog.”
She smiled. “’Night, Mal.”
“’Night.” Malcolm brushed past her. “Lock the doors.” He gently shut the door.
She engaged the locks, and soon his heavy footsteps retreated down the hallway. She looked down at the dog. “You hungry? I bought some good treats for you.”
The dog’s tongue rolled out again, and he panted.
Man, he was smart. Maybe Raider should’ve taken Roscoe. He would’ve been a decent backup if things had gone bad, but taking Roscoe to a tavern was too much of a risk. “Come on. Let’s have a treat, and I’ll make you some lean hamburger for dinner.” The pooch didn’t like dog food.
He sneezed and followed her into the kitchen, where he froze. His ears went back, the fur on his neck stood up, and he growled.
She paused, looking around the small space. “What—”
