“Thanks,” she said, turning away slightly. “At least I can warn my team.”
“Where are they?”
“They’re somewhere in the building, though I know there will be a couple who stay behind in the docks,” she said. “My partner was worried about losing the bird. It’s brand new and it’s capable of getting up to almost thirty thousand feet, but it struggled with the storm. Langley will murder us if we crash that chopper. It’s their baby, and we might or might not have had permission to take it out for this op.”
His brows rose. “You stole a helo?”
She finished typing, hit send, and hoped the message made it out. “I think they will discover that we were simply mistaken about which helo we were supposed to take. It was early, and that requisition form can be hard to read before I’ve had a cup of coffee.”
“Let me see if I can affect this bomb from here.” He took the tablet from her and started poking around the system. “I have no idea how you get away with that shit. If I did it, I would be fired.”
“It helps to have friends. We work with some of the best Special Ops teams in the world, and I happen to have grown up with some of those guys. I’m sure if times weren’t what they are, those relationships would cost me plenty, but I’m incredibly valuable for them now. My helo pilot used to steal cookies from my mom’s cookie jar.”
“Yeah, well my childhood friend is about to blow up a good portion of Asia,” he replied, his voice dull.
“Hey, it’s okay.” Kenzie put her hands on his shoulders. “None of this is your fault. Unless Huisman was your secret lover and you cheated on him and that’s why he hates the world.”
It was a joke, though she acknowledged that it often felt like Huisman was the third point in their triangle.
Ben snorted. “Not my type. I’m starting to wonder if I have a type.”
“Oh, I’m you’re type. Don’t get me wrong, Ben. I can be arrogant, but I’m self-aware, too. I know perfectly well that I’m not every man’s type. I’m a brat of the highest order, and I was probably raised to haveridiculously high standards, but we’re alike, you and I. I’m your natural mate.”
“Then why the fuck do you keep leaving me?”
“I didn’t leave you. I had to go to work. My…team needed me.” She wanted to tell him everything, but they were right back to their corners, and it didn’t matter now. “We’ve talked in the last few weeks. I told you what I could about the Wales mission.”
“I was working, too. You know maybe I wouldn’t have gotten dragged down by that old dude if you’d been more open,” he said, his voice tight.
Henry Flanders had been posing as a Welsh vet to support LB’s mission. From the reports that “old dude” had gotten the jump on both Ben and Tim. “I don’t know the complete workings of the Agency any more than you do yours. Can’t we… It was never going to work, was it?”
The lights went out all of the sudden and they were plunged into darkness, only the red light of the timer providing any illumination.
Ben found her hand. “Maggie?”
“I’m here.” She moved close to him, bumping up against his chest, and she let her arms go around him. “I don’t want to lose you. I can’t see a thing.”
“Is the timer still ticking down?”
She let her head rest against his shoulder. “Yes. It’s on some kind of battery, but if I try to clip it, it looks like it triggers the system.”
Naturally.
“And the sensor that connects it to the bomb on top of the mountain is probably battery operated, too.”
“I think I can see enough to get around now.” Kenzie moved, her eyes adjusting to the low light. She tried the door again. It was worth a shot. “Damn it. Well, the power going out didn’t kill the security system. That door is not budging.”
Was Huisman up and moving again? Somehow she didn’t think he’d planned all this out and then actually killed himself. He’d counted on Ben’s squeamishness and her need to not have Ben watch her make entirely sure his childhood bestie was dead.
She hoped her father found him.
And she remembered she had a pen light. Lou had designed the nanite program with many pockets. She pulled it out and a singlestream of light cut through the darkness. They needed to take inventory of their assets.
She opened the drawer of the bedside table. “Oh, look. The good doctor believed in safe sex. And a shocking amount of lube. Who needs that much lube? Ah, there we go.”
She’d found matches. She set down the small flashlight and struck a match. Lucky for them whoever had decorated this space liked candles.
“Do you think he used this place as his pleasure palace?” Somehow she didn’t see Huisman being much of a ladies’ man.
