Page 39 of Every Last Breath

“Before I help you people any further, I need to know—are you responsible for the Russians finding out I’m alive?”

The coincidence stank of a setup. Maddox also stared at her boss as if keen for an answer.

Sanborn wiped the smile from his face. His demeanor relaxed, gaze unwavering. “We don’t have the luxury of living in a black-and-white world with binary simplicity. It’s gray. Our job boils down to what’s necessary to safeguard this nation. Without apology. But no. We didn’t orchestrate Russian interference. You’re too important. You’re our only way into this auction, and it would’ve been impossible to ensure your safety. Okay?”

The point-blank spiel wasn’t what Cole had expected from the poster boy for Spies R Us, but no tells of lying pinged in him. Not the faintest worrisome niggle in his gut. In fact, Sanborn’s stark honesty was a bit unnerving. Cole nodded his satisfaction with the response.

“Would you wait in the conference room while I speak with Maddox in private?”

Cole glanced at her, longing to apologize. Not as if he’d muster the words in front of the slick operator in the suit, but her gaze roamed everywhere except to him.

Swearing under his breath in Russian, he pushed into the conference room.

* * *

Maddox steeled herself, refusing to let Cole mess with her head. Or her heart.

Sanborn waited until the door closed behind Cole. “Great job getting us in to the auction. You’re free to wash your hands of this now. Castle can take point.”

Acid burned up her throat. She’d roped Cole into this, nearly gotten him killed for real. She wasn’t going to leave him hanging. Sure as hell wasn’t giving Sanborn’s protégé her mission.

“This is mine.” She filtered angry desperation from her voice, keeping her face stoic, not letting him see how much she needed this. “You can’t take this away from me.”

She was battle-tested, capable of shooting, stabbing, and breaking necks with the best of them. Busted her butt proving herself, volunteered for assignments that didn’t require a pretty face, took bullets and beatings, and endured unspeakable things to be one of Sanborn’s elite.

“This mission is perfect for me. It’s exactly what you trained me to do. I’m qualified—”

“You’re more than qualified. I’d prefer to send you to the auction over Castle.” The smooth gravel of his voice coupled with his soft gaze lightened her anxiety by ten pounds.

His stamp of approval and getting the job done were all she had. Even if what she wanted most was sitting in the conference room.

“A security detail will look at Castle or Reaper and tap four men to cover them,” Sanborn said. “With you, they’ll just see that face of yours. Won’t suspect you’re capable of putting down four of them. You’re my secret weapon.” He flashed a smile brimming with pride. “I asked a lot of you emotionally, and you delivered. If you want to pass, it’s fine.”

“I can handle this.” Working with Cole would test her, a new trial by fire, but she’d figure it out. Get the job done.

Sanborn gave a warm nod. “Glad to hear it.”

Yes.

“Considering your personal history with Cole, it’s best if Castle is on this too.”

Damn it. Maddox plastered on her best professional smile. “Castle is a hardcore operator. Excellent in the field, but—”

Emily “Doc” Duvall strolled up to their huddle in a hurry. Her long, fluid skirt swished about her ankles and her hair flowed back as if there was an invisible wind machine on her. “Oh, I’m glad I’m not late for the briefing. Willow headed to the conference room fifteen minutes ago, but I was still preparing,” she said, bright and cheery, always like an interminable ray of sunshine.

Maddox smothered a sigh.

“You’re right on time.” Sanborn slipped his hands into his pockets with an uncharacteristic zippy little rock back on his heels. “As our resident expert on bioweapons, I would’ve waited for you.”

“Sir.” Daniel Cutter approached them.

Sanborn shifted his gaze and totally missed the killer smile Doc threw at him right before she strode into the conference room.

For months, Maddox had caught the flirty little looks Doc tossed at Sanborn. And for months, the best spy on the planet had been oblivious.

“I heard the op has taken an unexpected turn. I thought you might want an extra analyst on this.” Good ole Cutter, always eager to volunteer. Gung ho on steroids due to his time as a Marine Corps analyst strapped to Force Recon.

“As a matter of fact, I want you and Amanda to sit in on the briefing,” Sanborn said.