Since they hadn’t found her all day, either she’d gotten smart about being seen, or the other group hunting her had found her.
Rogue hoped it was the former, not the latter.
He arrived at Letty’s Diner at the junction of Highway 71 and 620 at sixteen thirty—four-thirty for the non-military types. He scouted the entire location, checking nearby buildings, places one could hide, the number of exits associated with the diner and the distance to the highways nearby.
When he was satisfied he understood the exterior, he parked his rental SUV behind the diner and walked around to the front. He entered the retro diner with its shiny aluminum exterior, 1950s-style tables and bright red vinyl booth seats. He opted for a corner booth and ordered a coffee to last the first fifteen minutes.
The diner was almost empty, with one waitress, two truckers at the counter and a male cook Rogue could see through the window into the kitchen.
At fifteen minutes until the meeting time, he ordered a hamburger with fries and a chicken sandwich with fries, a strawberry milkshake and a chocolate one. “Could you have them delivered after five o’clock?” he asked the waitress.
“Not a problem. It’ll be at least twenty minutes anyway. Are you expecting a guest?”
“I hope,” he responded.
The waitress gave him a kind smile. “Blind date or someone you met on an online dating app?”
He nodded. “Something like that.”
“Well, I hope she’s everything she says she is.” With another smile, the waitress hurried off to take the order to the kitchen.
Rogue just hoped she showed up and didn’t have a full team of combat soldiers hot on her tail.
At exactly five o’clock, a slender woman in a black T-shirt, matching black yoga pants, tennis shoes and a lightweight jacket emerged from the hallway leading to the bathrooms and a back exit.
Not the blonde he was expecting, but a woman with a black ball cap, a jet-black ponytail hanging out the back of the cap and sunglasses hiding her eyes and much of her face. She turned her head right and left as if taking in the room and then smiled at the waitress like any other suburban housewife after a trip to the gym. She turned and walked past the men paying their bill at the counter and headed for Rogue in the far corner booth.
Still smiling, she slid into the seat across from him. “So glad we could meet like this. Did you have to wait long?” she asked loud enough for others to hear. She parted the edges of her jacket enough that he could see the handgun tucked into a shoulder holster.
“I haven’t been here long,” he responded. “And yes, I’m hungry.” He opened his jacket enough that she could see his Glock tucked neatly into its holster on his belt. “I hope you don’t mind, but I placed an order. It’ll be here soon.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful.” She closed her jacket and nodded. “It’s nice when a man thinks ahead. I’m starving.”
“As I said on my profile, I’m Rourke Logan. My team calls me Rogue. It’s nice to meet you in person. You look exactly like your online picture.”
The waitress appeared beside his “date”. “Oh, good. I was getting worried that his date wouldn’t show up. Nothing kills a guy’s ego more than getting stood up. What can I get you to drink, honey? Your man ordered milkshakes, but you might want something else.”
“A milkshake sounds great,” she smiled up at the waitress. “Could I get some water as well?”
“Sure. And I think your order is almost ready. I’ll be right back with both.” The waitress left them and ducked into the kitchen. The truckers exited the building, leaving Rogue and the Onyx operator alone.
“Show me your credentials,” the woman across from him demanded.
Rogue pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and fished out his real driver’s license and the SOS badge Royce had insisted on making for the team after they’d turned in the ones the government had issued. He could have shown her one of his fake driver’s licenses, but the haunted circles beneath her eyes made him go with his gut and be completely truthful and transparent about who he was.
She studied both forms of identification. “Stealth Operations Specialists. They disbanded from the government and reformed as an independent agency fairly recently, didn’t they?” She handed him his IDs.
“You’ve done your homework,” he said as he tucked his driver’s license and badge into his wallet and placed it into his back pocket.
“Doing my homework keeps me alive,” she said. “Why would SOS send someone after me?”
Rogue’s lips pressed together. “They didn’t. The current administration did—through unofficial channels. My boss, Royce Fontaine, received a message to eliminate Onyx, the assassin responsible for Senator Morales’s murder.”
The woman’s face hardened. “I didn’t kill Senator Morales.” She glanced away. “I was sent there to do the job, but I couldn’t. That’s when they burned me.”
“I saw your evidence wall,” Rogue said softly. “I believe you. The outstanding question is who did kill the senator, and why did they leave a calling card—a piece of black onyx—that implicated you?”
“Why do you care?” she asked. “What do you want from me?”
