Page 12 of Destroyed With You

“Ryan wouldn’t breach confidence. If he suggested you reach out to me, it was because he had authority. And the only covert agency that Ryan knows I work with is the SOC.”

“But it’s not the only covert agency you work with,” Winston said, amused.

“What’s that parable? If you build it, they will come. I’ve got a long list of comers at my door. And so long as neither me nor Damien have an issue with their particular way of doing business, all currency is equal.”

“That’s very capitalist of you.”

Noah laughed. “Yeah? My wife says it’s vanity. Seeding my tech out into the world. Maybe, but my products still aren’t as far reaching as her songs.”

“I’ve got all her albums,” Winston admitted. “She’s talented.”

Noah’s smiled with such pride it made Winston’s heart ache. “She really is.”

“From what I’m learning, so are you. Maybe more so than Ryan intimated. Tell me the rest of it.”

The waitress arrived with their second round, and Noah lifted his in a toast. Winston did the same as Noah said, “Like Carmac the Magnificent, I will reveal all I know about you and yours.”

“I’m breathless with anticipation. What else did Anderson tell you? And what have you figured out on your own?”

“Only that your mission was important. You’re here to recover evidence from a potential witness named Bartlett and possibly stop a contract killer.”

“That about sums it up.”

“The killer’s a woman, I’m guessing. Ex-girlfriend or partner. Maybe wife. Definitely someone you used to sleep with.”

Winston managed not to choke on his drink. “Christ, Noah. You really do deserve that turban.”

“Nah. It’s just basic logic.” He grinned, full of self-confidence. Well-deserved, apparently. “First off, the SOC has a branch office in Austin. There’s no shortage of agents and yet they sent you all the way from LA. Second, it’s just you. Not a team, which suggests to me that it’s either a highly confidential assignment or they want her taken alive. Or both.”

He met Winston’s eyes, as if to say how am I doing so far?

“Go on.”

“I think it’s fair to assume she’s dangerous, and that means they sent you—as opposed to some other solo SOC operative—because there’s a high likelihood that she’ll keep you alive, whereas with someone else, she’ll go balls to the wall to escape.

“In other words,” he continued, in the tone of someone taking a sweeping bow, “they’re banking that because of either guilt or nostalgia that she’ll either decide to come quietly or she’ll falter. Either way, you’re the best man for the job.” He leaned back. “So, how’d I do?”

“Hunter told me you were a tech genius. Seems to me he could have left out the tech part.”

Noah laughed. “Appreciate the compliment.” His brow furrowed. “So who is she to you? Former partner?”

“Something like that,” Winston admitted, not sure why he was opening up to this near-stranger. “She was my wife.”

“Christ.”

Winston shrugged, as if to say it was no big deal, when, of course, it was everything. “Once upon a time, she was my world, and I thought I was hers. Apparently, I couldn’t have been more wrong.”

Noah nodded slowly, and a shadow seemed to cross his face as he said, “Can I give you a piece of advice?”

“Sure.”

“I’ve seen a lot. Experienced a lot. And the only thing I’m certain of is that things are often not what they seem.” He took a long swallow of beer. “Just food for thought.”

Winston thought back to the video that Seagrave had shown him, wishing that what Noah just said would turn out to be true, but at the same time certain that it wouldn’t.

“So, tell me what I can do for you specifically. I’m happy to load up your saddlebags with tech, but I need a sense of what you need.”

“For one thing you can get me access to Bartlett’s room.”