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But that’s not why this won’t work. It’s why it will.

She smiles, back in that world of possibility, where she’s the writer, crafting the scene, ready to explore any possible outcome. “What do we do after we kill everyone?”

“We both go back to work in London. Assume no one knows we were involved.”

“And our trade?” she asks.

“My cryptographer will need 48 hours with the laptop,” I say, as if I haven’t already extracted what I need.

She makes a hmm noise. Looks around the room casually, like she’s doesn’t even know the device is sitting on the bookshelf. “You trust him?”

“Her. And yes.”

Envy flares in her eyes. “Did you sleep with her?”

“Why? Are you jealous?” I ask.

“No. Of course not. What happened before doesn’t matter,” she lies.

I nod like I believe her.

“Maybe we should leave before midnight. To be safe.”

My eyes go to my watch. It’s almost three. That only leaves a few hours to figure this out. Olympus won’t stop until they find the laptop. I need a better plan. Or, at least, a better place to hide. “As soon as it’s dark.” That leaves six hours to get answers from Jamie. I can do that. I know her.

“Can I ask you a favor?” Her voice gets softer. “Can we spend an hour like old times?”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“You pretend you still love me,” she says.

My eyes meet hers. “And you pretend I’m a mark?”

The hurt in my voice curls her lips into a frown.

She may be willing to kill me. She still regrets hurting me.

It warms me everywhere. Makes it hard to put strategy first.

“I pretend you don’t know who I really am, yes,” she says. The knit in her brow says the rest I want to pretend I am that woman. I want to pretend this is simple.

I want to pretend I’m not here to kill you.

An hour of the easy connection we shared is a nice fantasy.

But reality is more interesting.

And this is exactly what I need from her.

“If you do something for me.” I look her in the eyes. “If you give me an hour of brutal honesty in return.”

Chapter

Twenty

JAMIE

An hour of brutal honesty. It would be kinder to drown him. Less painful, too.