According to Liam, Keith Sinclair was a former CIA field agent who worked with Talia back in the day. In the time since, she’d become a force within Homeland while the asshole sitting with cuffs on both wrists had apparently chose to work for the enemy.
Question was, were they somehow in on the whole thing together? And if so, to what end?
“I’ve worked beside the woman for the past few years.” Ryker held his stare a few seconds longer before releasing a sigh. “I’ve seen how she rolls, both in and out of the field, and I’m telling you, this…” He pointed to the man on the other side of the glass. “This wasn’t her.”
Jagger’s instincts told him Ryker was right, and his gut was usually spot freaking on. But until he had the chance to look into those big, gorgeous eyes and ask Talia face-to-beautiful face if she was a traitor to her country, he had no choice but to sit back and wait for the show that was about to begin.
Right on cue, the door to the other room opened, and the tempting Homeland agent appeared. She’d changed clothes since they’d parted ways back at the hangar. Something Jagger noticed right away.
The white dress shirt she had on now was tucked into a pair of navy blue suit pants that fell loosely along her legs. The shirt’s blousy material rested beautifully over her firm, perfect breasts. The navy pumps she’d gone with matched her pants almost exactly, and in her hands was a thin, manila folder.
Jagger took her in as best he could from the opposite room. If he wasn’t mistaken, her hair and makeup looked like they’d been touched up as well.
She showered before coming here.
He’d followed the redhead who’d picked her up from the airport. An attractive woman he planned on having Liam look into later. But he’d had to stop following as soon as Ryker had texted with the address at which to meet.
His lungs filled with air as Jagger drew in a deep breath. He let it out slowly, taking more of her in. With the low, ultra-tight bun holding her hair from her face and the power-suit appeal, Talia looked like the epitome of a government professional. A no-nonsense agent preparing for battle.
But when her carefully schooled gaze landed on the man at the table, a sliver of emotion shone brightly behind her golden stare. Evidence of an emotional storm brewing deep inside.
Was it because she was guilty? Or was it from knowing a man who’d once worked with had turned into a gun-smuggling traitor? One way or another, he was about to find out.
“Here we go,” Ryker mumbled, crossing his arms at his chest with a widened stance.
Jagger slid his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, his attention locked, loaded, and ready to roll.
“Hello, Keith.” Talia greeted her prisoner.
The man’s bloodshot eyes expanded in size as a deep frown created new lines in his face. “Foster?” Sinclair’s voice sounded rough, probably from being up most of the night. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“That’s funny.” She approached the table with slow, purposeful steps. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”
“I don’t knowwhyI’m here. I haven’t done shit!”
“Says every person who sits on that side of the table.” She lowered herself into the empty chair facing Keith. “Let’s skip the bullshit, shall we? I’m going to tell you how this works. You have two choices. You either give up everything you know about Sanchez and his smuggling ring, and we cut you a hell of a deal. Or…” A dramatic pause. “You get charged with a slew of federal crimes including espionage, conspiracy and smuggling, material support, acting as an unregistered foreign agent, and Arms Export Control Act violations.”
“What?”The guy tried to stand, but was stopped short by the cuffs, which were attached to a bar running lengthwise along the top of the table. “No. No fucking way! I don’t know where you’re getting your intel, but it’s wrong.”
“So…no deal, then?”
Jagger couldn’t help but smirk at Talia’s nonchalant tone. He had to admit, it was fun watching her in action. So far, she was playing the part of the hardened agent quite well.
And they were just getting started.
“I don’t even know anyone by the name of Sanchez, and I haven’t smuggled shit!” Sinclair’s voice rose a full octave. “But of course, seeing as howyou’rethe one who seems to be in charge,I’m not surprised you screwed up and brought in the wrong guy.”
Jagger swung his gaze to Talia, wishing like hell he could see her face. But with her back to him and Ryker, it was easy to make out the way her spine stiffened at the other man’s words.
Interesting.
“The only one of us who screwed up is you.” She opened the folder she’d brought into the room. Pulling out two eight-by-ten photos of the men killed on the boat, she laid them side-by-side on the table in front of Sinclair. “These two men died during the commission of a crime. One you were a part of, which also puts you on the hook for murder.”
“Murder? What the?—”
“You’re looking at spending the rest of your natural life in a maximum security prison, Keith,” Talia cut off the agitated man’s objection. “And I know you know how this all works. So why don’t you save us both the time and headache of sticking with the lies and just own up to the fact that you’re a gun-smuggling traitor?”
“Fuck you, Natalia.” Sinclair seethed with rage as his brown eyes shot daggers her way. “I didn’t smuggle shit.”
