Extreme Measures

16

The gritty intro to Nickelback’s “This Means War” roused Zane in the early morning hours. Blinking into the dim light, he rolled to his side and eyed the illuminated cell phone screen sitting on the nightstand.

Fuck. Aegis.

He rubbed at his left eye and pushed up onto his elbow. Muscles in his back and shoulders ached, and for a moment he couldn’t remember why. Then his mind flashed to a steamy shower, to Eve’s wrists bound above her head, to the sexiest sounds he’d ever heard.

The music died off. He whipped around and looked at the empty bed beside him. Heart pounding, he shot a glance toward the open bathroom door, the room beyond dark and quiet.

Double fuck.

“Eve?”

No answer. No sound or movement from anywhere in the small, dark motel room. When “This Means War” fired up his cell phone again, he grabbed it on reflex. “What?”

“Good morning to you too, grouchy.”

Marley. Shit. He should have expected this call. Sitting up, he rubbed a hand over his face and worked for calm when he felt anything but. “Sorry. Long night. Ryder tell you to call?”

“As a matter of fact, he did. He’s still a little too worked up to talk to you just yet. But he’s worried about you, Zane.”

Zane scoffed and looked around the room. Sometime in the night he’d peeled off those wet jeans, and they now lay in a pile on the floor. Eve’s ripped skirt and filthy blouse were tossed over a chair, but the clothes he’d picked up for her yesterday were nowhere to be found.

Anger simmered under his skin, followed by a nasty shot of stupidity. Dammit, he should have expected she’d turn tail and run, but he’d thought—no, he’d hoped—in some way he’d gotten through to her last night. Apparently, he’d thought wrong, but then, when it came to Eve, he was always wrong.

He slouched back into the pillows and pulled his knees up under the blanket, planting his feet on the mattress. A dull ache started in his thigh, one he knew all too well. “I seriously doubt that.”

“He’s just ticked you went out on your own on this one,” Marley said. “He’d have helped you if you’d asked.”

Zane fought from scoffing again. “No, he wouldn’t have. And he’d have been right to say no.” Shit. He rubbed another hand down his face. He should have listened to Ryder. He never should have gone after Evelyn Wolfe. At least then, instead of being alone and wanted for a major crime, he’d simply be alone. “Listen, Wolfe’s sister is still missing—”

“Miller’s on it. We’ve been in contact. As soon as we have news about Olivia Wolfe, someone will contact you. But that’s not the reason I’m calling. The reason I’m calling is because I need you to talk to Wolfe and find out if she knows about something called Project Thirteen.”

Zane’s brow lowered. “Why?”

“Because somehow, it’s linked to everything that’s happening.” Marley filled him in on her discovery at the State Department, the link to the Guatemala raid, and Humbolt’s connection to ADD Roberts in the counterintelligence division.

Slowly, Zane sat upright. “Are you telling me the Guatemala raid was a cover-up?”

“It could have been. Or it could have been coincidental. Whether Aegis or Humbolt was the target, we may never know. For now, we need to know if Wolfe has any intel on Project Thirteen.”

Shit. Zane rubbed his suddenly aching forehead. “Well, I would ask her if she was here, but she’s not, so I can’t.”

“What do you mean?”

Zane sighed and dropped his hand. Man, he was so fucking gullible when it came to that woman. “What I mean is, she’s go—”

The door to the motel room pushed open, and a breath of cool Pacific Northwest air swept into the room, followed by Eve, wearing slim jeans, a fitted black button-down blouse, and black ankle boots. In her hands she carried a drink holder and several paper cups.

Relief spread through him like fog rolling across the ocean, and warmth seeped into his chest, dousing the ache that had started to grow there from her absence.

“Archer?”

Realizing Marley was still talking to him, he blinked and looked down at the sheet over his legs. “Yeah.”

“Where is Wolfe?”

“She just walked in. Listen, Marley, I’ll call you back after I talk to her.”

“You do know how to keep things exciting, Archer. I will say that for you.”

He smiled, feeling better by the second. “So do you.”

He hit End on his phone and looked across the room. Eve’s back was turned toward him, and she was taking steaming paper cups out of the drink holder and setting them on the round, scarred table. “Who was on the phone?” she asked, not looking his way.

Slowly, he unfolded himself from the bed, snagging the sheet around his waist as he moved. “Aegis.”

“Worried about you?”

“Something like that.”

He tied the sheet together at his hip, stopped behind her, and drew in a whiff of her familiar scent. Her dark hair was tousled and messy, just begging his fingers to weave through it, and the way her ass filled out those jeans . . .

The blood stirred in his groin all over again.

She turned and handed him a steaming paper cup, then stepped past him, careful, he noticed, not to look him in the eye or touch him. “I couldn’t remember how you liked your coffee, so I just left it black.”

“Thanks.” She was nervous. An odd sort of thrill rushed through him as he took the cup and turned to look after her. “I didn’t hear you get up.”

She crossed the floor, sat on the end of the second bed, and tugged off her boots. “I couldn’t sleep. Look, we’re meeting my CSIS contact in a few hours and need to get going. I’m gonna finish getting ready. I got some food in case you’re hungry.”

She pushed off the bed and moved for the bathroom. Surprise rippled through him when he looked over the selection. “You got me M&M’s?”

“I got you oatmeal,” she called from the bathroom. “It’s called breakfast.”

Bullshit. She’d gotten M&M’s too. Excitement slithered through his veins. He snagged the little brown bag and followed her into the cramped bathroom.

She was bent over the counter, splashing water on her face, when he leaned against the doorjamb. Water slid down her creamy skin as she straightened, eyed him in the mirror, and reached for the towel. “What?”

A one-sided grin curled his mouth. He ripped the bag open. “Nothing. It’s just . . . you got me M&M’s.”

She rolled her eyes and swiped the towel over her face. “Maybe the M&M’s were for me, smart guy. Ever think about that?”

He tossed a handful of the chocolate candies in his mouth, chewed, and moved in behind her. Swallowing, he dropped the open bag on the counter and wrapped his arms around her slim waist. “Mm, they taste good. But not as good as you.”

A surprised gasp slipped from her lips. She tensed against him, pressing her hands over his forearms. “Archer—”

He nuzzled her neck, loving the way she felt against him, loving the soft tickle of her hair against this face, loving the silly lift to his spirits just knowing she’d come back. “You have a photographic memory, Eve. You don’t forget anything. God, you smell good. Remember what we did with those M&M’s in Beirut?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Oh yeah, she did. He saw it in her eyes when he glanced into the mirror. “ ‘Melt in your mouth, not in your hand.’ We tested that theory, didn’t we? All over your body. I wouldn’t be averse to trying that experiment again.”

“Archer.” Her stomach tightened beneath his arms, and when she gripped his forearms and squirmed, her sweet ass ground against his growing erection. “We have things to do today. We don’t have time for this.”

He breathed hotly over the skin behind her ear, then pressed his lips to the supersensitive spot. A shudder ran through her. Releasing one arm from her waist, he slid his hand down her lower belly and over her jeans to cup her sex. “There’s always time, Evie.”

Eve sucked in a breath. Muttered, “Shit.” Then her eyes slid closed. Her struggling stopped. She rested her head back against him as he palmed her, and she rocked her hips ever so slightly into his hand. “You make this impossible, Archer.”

He smiled against her neck and kissed her again. “Make what impossible?”

“This. Telling you to stop. You know this isn’t going anywhere, right?” Sighing, she ground against him, caught between his erection and his hand. “Oh God, that feels so damn good.”

An uncontrollable urge to prove her wrong whipped through him. He let go of her, twisted her to face him, and then lifted her quickly and sat her up on the counter. Her mouth fell open in surprise, but he pushed her legs open and moved between them before she could close him out. “Look at me, Eve.”

Her mouth slid closed.

He braced his palms on the counter on each side of her. “Stop. Okay? Right now, just stop running from me.”

She scowled. “I’m not running. I’m here, aren’t I? If I’d wanted to run, I’d have ditched you this morning when you were dead to the world.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Why not?” she repeated. “Because I told you I wouldn’t.”

“More.”

“Because you saved my life.”

“More.”

She sighed in clear frustration. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Archer. I’m here, dammit. That’s enough.”

“No, it’s not.” It wouldn’t ever be enough for him. “You’re here, but you’re still hiding from me. I want to know the real reason you stayed. And don’t tell me it was because of last night. Because you could have easily fucked my brains out and then run from me this morning and never looked back. Tell me the truth, Eve. Let me in. Why are you still here?”

She opened her mouth. Looked down at his bare chest. Pressed her lips together.

“Tell me,” he said, moving in closer, until the heat from her body swirled around him to make him light-headed.

“I . . . I . . .” Unease trickled through her dark gaze as it focused on his skin. “Because I . . .”

“Because you care about me.” Her eyes shot to his. Wide, suddenly frightened eyes. Eyes that told him, Bingo! He was right. “Say it, Eve. It’s not a bad thing to care about someone else.”

“I . . .” Her gaze searched his, and this close, he could hear the rapid beat of her pulse. “I . . .”

He moved even closer, until his hips were flush against hers, his arms were circling her waist, and her legs were sliding around his hips. “Just tell me, Evie. I’m not gonna bite you. Well, not hard, at least.”

Her hands landed against his bare shoulders, and she whispered, “I hate you, Archer. I really do.”

He leaned in and brushed his mouth gently over hers. Loved the way her whole body tightened against him when he got close. “No, you don’t.” He pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth. “You’re crazy about me. You always have been.”

Her hands pressed against his shoulders. “Zane—”

Pain zipped through his wound, but he ignored it. “It’s okay if you can’t say it. Just seeing how flustered you are this morning tells me everything I need to know.” He kissed her jaw. Reveled in the way she started to relax, muscle by muscle. “And I’m a patient guy. I waited for you all these months. I’m willing to wait a little longer until you figure it out on your own.”

He skimmed his lips to her ear, then slowly down her neck. And right then he knew what he wanted. Her. Back in his life. This time for good.

She groaned, and tiny vibrations shook her body as he unbuttoned her blouse one button at a time, as he continued to tease her throat with his mouth and tongue and teeth.

“You’re certifiable, you know that?” she mumbled, tipping her head to the side to offer him more. “Any sane man would run from me the first chance he got.”

Grinning, he pushed the halves of her blouse apart, pulled away from her throat, and looked down at her perfect breasts, spilling from the practical, white cotton bra. “Yeah, well, my psych profile’s always been a little fucked up. God, Evie. You are gorgeous.”

She straightened her head. Blinked several times. His gaze came up. But when it focused on hers, he didn’t see arousal. He saw sadness.

“Zane,” she said softly. “You don’t know the real me. You know the person I was in Beirut, the one who was pretending not to be investigating you, and you know the woman you blamed for your injury when that op went wrong in Guatemala. But neither of those is the real me. Yes, I care about you, and yes, that’s why I came back. Because I don’t want to see you hurt anymore because of me. But incredible sexual chemistry—which we have—isn’t a real relationship. And it sure isn’t a basis for any kind of future. It can’t be, because you don’t know who I really am.”

“So let me know you. Let me in, Eve.”

She exhaled a long breath and looked over his shoulder. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t like the real me. And you won’t either if you get to know her.”

He didn’t know what she meant. He only knew that she was moving away and erecting a barrier between them. One he thought he’d chipped away at last night.

Carefully, she eased off the counter and moved out of his grasp. “Listen, let’s just focus on what we have to do next. I need to finish getting ready, and you need to re-bandage that shoulder. Looks like water got in it last night. The last thing you need is infection setting in.”

He didn’t care about his shoulder. He didn’t care about anything except her. “Eve—”

She held up a hand to keep him from reaching for her and stepped back. “No, don’t. Just don’t, okay? Let me focus on what I need to do today. That’s all I can handle right now.”

If he’d seen confidence in her eyes or even challenge, he’d have grabbed her, shoved her up against the wall, and kissed her until all thought rushed out of her head. But he didn’t see that. He saw fear. Stark fear, over a truth he wasn’t sure how to argue against.

She was right. He didn’t know the real her. Not all of her. And he’d been wrong about her before. If she let him all the way in and he didn’t like what he found, he’d be the one to blame for making things worse for both of them.

But that didn’t mean he was giving up.

“This conversation isn’t over, Eve. And whether you want to admit it or not, I know more of you than you think. I’m not the one you have to be afraid of.”

He moved out of the bathroom, and she quickly closed the door at his back. But before it clicked, he heard her whisper, “You’ve always been the one I’m afraid of.”

Eve’s skin felt three sizes too small.

Sitting in the passenger seat of the Taurus, she shifted away from Zane and stared at the scenery whizzing by her window.

She should have left. She shouldn’t have come back this morning. The more time she spent with him, the more he pushed her toward wanting a future she was never going to have.

Forget this morning. She should have been smart from the first and left him lying on the floor of that warehouse loft as soon as he untied her from that chair.

Her mind skipped back to the group of men who’d come barreling through that door, then to her meeting with Smith in Seattle. “Chechnya. I’ve never been to Chechnya. I’ve never investigated anyone working in Chechnya. So my being the target in Seattle couldn’t have been personal.”

“Unless you know something you don’t know you know.”

She harrumphed. “Okay, Dr. Seuss.”

He frowned. “You can be a real smart-ass sometimes, you know that?”

The hurt in his voice caused Eve’s gaze to slide his way. She watched the sunlight weave through his thick, dark hair, highlighting the strands and the bit of wave. His hair was longer than she’d ever seen it, brushing his collar and skimming his ears, but she liked the shaggy look on him. Liked the sexy scruff on his jaw from days without shaving too.

Focus, Eve.

She looked back out the window. “Yeah, well. It’s not easy being a woman in this business.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Whatever was on that drive is more than a simple list of compromised agents.”

“What do you know about something called Project Thirteen?”

Eve’s gaze shot his way again, this time in surprise. “It’s a top secret biological weapons program. Why?”

He still didn’t look at her. His gaze was focused out the windshield, and both hands gripped the steering wheel, accentuating the muscles in his arms and the strength in his shoulders. “Adam Humbolt, the target in that Guatemalan raid, was a scientist supposedly working on some top secret shit for the government. Turns out, Humbolt was working on Project Thirteen, but we were told he was a chemical weapons specialist who’d been kidnapped while vacationing in the Caribbean.”

“That cover’s a little convenient, don’t you think?”

“Now? Hell yeah. Especially when I heard from Aegis this morning that ADD Roberts specifically requested Aegis be the one to go in after him.”

That didn’t make sense. Eve’s brow dropped low. “Why would the assistant deputy director of counterintelligence for the CIA be involved in the rescue mission of a US scientist? That would fall under a different division.”

“That’s what I want to know.”

Slowly, Eve looked back out the windshield. There were too many questions. Too many threads to this that didn’t align.

As they pulled into the parking lot of Lake Padden Park, where they’d agreed to meet Eve’s Canadian contact, Eve’s stomach tensed.

The park was wide and green, with tall trees and a broad dog run. A running trail wound away from the parking lot and playground and into the woods. A handful of benches sat scattered through the area. Several young children swung on the swing set and ran around the bark chips near the play structure, and a few rambunctious dogs chased balls and returned them to their masters in the field.

Zane shut off the engine and eyed the park. “Where’d you say we’re meeting her?”

“About a quarter mile down the running path. She said there’s an old oak and a bench. Can’t miss it.”

Zane pulled the keys from the ignition. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

The fine hairs standing at attention all along Eve’s nape screamed the same thing, but this was their best lead at this point.

Grabbing the backpack from the backseat—the one Zane had had stashed in the wheel well of the car—she set it on her lap. She pulled out a Beretta 92G from the bag and handed it to Zane. “Those jam. Be careful.”

He huffed as he took the weapon. “Not if you use them right, beautiful.”

She rolled her eyes and checked the magazine on her Glock 17. “Her name’s Natalie.”

He climbed out of the car without responding, and her chest squeezed tight as she watched his long legs filling out the faded jeans and that black T-shirt molding to his strong chest and abs. He holstered the gun at his lower back and pulled the shirt over the butt, then swung the backpack over one shoulder.

He was upset with her over what had happened this morning, and he had every right to be. But it didn’t change reality. And wishing she could rewrite the past so she could have a different future was futile at this point.

Drawing a deep breath, she popped the car door and eased out. Cool morning air rushed over her skin, but the sun was shining, a sign the day couldn’t be all bad. She holstered her own gun and tugged her T-shirt over the bulge. Then she looked toward Zane over the top of the car. “Ready?”

He grinned her way—a mesmerizing smile that lit up his whole face and warmed her belly. “Sure, baby. You want to swing first or go for a walk?”

He was settling into their cover. Pretending to be a couple in love, out for a morning stroll. And while the thought of holding his hand electrified Eve, it also scared her to death.

Be tough. Be strong. Don’t give in to stupid emotions right now.

She worked up her own smile and moved around the front of the vehicle. “Let’s walk. I want to be alone with you, handsome.”

He tugged on a Mariners cap and took her hand, his skin warm, the pulse beneath strong and steady. But she felt the tension in his muscles. Felt the way he was holding back after everything she’d said this morning.

You have no idea how much I wish things could be different . . .

The words were on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed them when he tugged her toward the path. A dog barked. Nerves gathered in Eve’s belly when she realized heads were turning their direction.

Zane’s fingers, intertwined with hers, shifted to her lower back, pinning her arm behind her. Then he stopped, tugged her into him, and lowered his head. “People are looking.”

They’d talked about this. About the fact they’d be in a public place. That people would be on the lookout for anyone out of the norm. That Zane’s description was all over the news. But her face still hadn’t been made public by the CIA, and whatever they could do to keep attention off him as an individual was their only hope of not being caught.

She’d known he might have to kiss her. That she’d have to pretend—again—to be his girlfriend or wife or lover. But the moment his head lowered and she felt his soft lips brush hers, creating a believable cover became the last thing on her mind.

Warmth pressed against her mouth. And memories of last night—when he’d kissed her in the shower, when he’d thrust inside her—filled her mind and sent sharp electrical currents of arousal all through her body.

She lifted her chin, pressed her lips against his more firmly, and tangled the fingers of her free hand in the T-shirt at his chest.

He groaned, and that hand against her lower back pulled her even closer into the heat of his body. And then his tongue pushed between her lips and dipped into her mouth, giving her a sinful, sexy, so-not-enough taste.

She moaned, tried to get closer. He answered by letting go of the hand at her back and sliding his palm down to cup her ass and pull her so close she felt the hard ridge of his growing erection against her lower belly.

This was the way it could be. The way it could always be if she just gave in. If she admitted how she felt. If she opened herself fully and showed him all of her.

He won’t forget the things you’ve done. He won’t forgive you.

The hard, coarse voice of reality slapped a hand against her chest and pushed her away from him. She pulled her mouth from his and pressed her face against his chest, frantically fighting for control.

“That wasn’t cover,” he whispered in her ear.

Eve didn’t push away, and he didn’t release her. He just went on holding her, breathing warmth over her suddenly chilled skin and rubbing a hand down her back. And though she knew for her own sanity she needed to get out of his arms, she couldn’t seem to move her feet.

“That was the real you, Evie. Wanting me the same way you did in that stupid apartment in Beirut. The same way you did last night. I know more about you than you think. I know you can’t walk away from me without it tearing a part of you to shreds. Just like I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you all these months.”

Eve’s eyes slid closed, and she breathed deeply through her nose. Focused on the push and pull of air in her lungs in the hopes it would ease the sharp ache growing in the middle of her chest. She’d given up happily ever after when Sam died. Had never expected to be teased with it by another man. And now here was Zane. The person she’d tried countless times to forget and had never been able to. The person who made her want things even Sam had never stirred inside her.

“It’s nice to see you two haven’t killed each other yet.”

Eve stiffened at the voice and whipped around. A man stood feet from them on the path, hands tucked in the front pocket of his slacks, light jacket over his white button-down. His neatly trimmed blond hair blew gently in the breeze, and those deep, familiar blue eyes hinted at mischief.

“Carter,” Eve breathed.

James Dietrick’s smile widened. “Is that the best you can do, Juliet?”

Whether it was joy over seeing a familiar face or simply relief at getting away from Zane, Eve didn’t know. She pulled away from Zane and wrapped her arms around Carter’s neck, hugging him tightly. “Oh my God. What . . . ? How . . . ?”

He chuckled against her, squeezed her tight, and then let go. “I figured you guys might need some help. Don’t worry. No one from the Agency knows I’m here.”

Eve lowered to her feet. “Olivia?”

Carter’s smile turned grim. “Nothing yet. We’re still looking, though.”

A wave of sickness rolled through her belly.

Fingers gripping the backpack strap against his shoulder, Zane reached around her and shook Carter’s hand. “It’s nice to see you, man.”

Carter returned the handshake, then slid on his sunglasses and glanced around the park. The people who’d been watching them earlier had gone back to swinging and throwing tennis balls for their dogs. “Where’s this meeting taking place?”

“Park bench,” Eve said, refocusing on what she could do now. Miller would find Olivia. Zane had said he was the best of the best, and if he’d been DIA, she had at least a tiny bit of hope. “Down the path.”

Carter turned, and she and Zane fell into step beside him.

“You’ve created a heck of a mess, Eve,” Carter said.

At her right, Zane snorted. “The woman has a knack for finding trouble.”

Eve ignored him and looked toward Carter on her other side. “I didn’t have anything to do with that bombing. If the Agency looks into it, they’ll see I have no connection to Chechnya. And Zane was just in the wrong—”

“Eve.” Carter stopped and looked down at her. “Five hundred thousand dollars was deposited into your personal account two days ago. Through back channels, the Agency tracked it to a group in western Chechnya. The government has already seized your holdings. In a matter of hours, your face is going to be all over every police station computer screen and news broadcast in the country. That’s why I’m here.” He tugged off his glasses, and his worried blue eyes met hers. “I think it’s time you turned yourself in and got a lawyer.”

The earth shifted beneath Eve’s feet, and the park started to swirl in front of her eyes.

Strong hands wrapped around her shoulders and tugged her back against a warm, solid male chest. “Hold it together, beautiful. We’re in a public place.”

Zane’s voice echoed in her ears and slowly trickled through the fog clouding her brain. Hold it together . . . Hold it together . . .

Five hundred thousand dollars.

Anger and disbelief coiled beneath her skin and threatened to explode. She closed her eyes and leaned back into Zane. Don’t lose it.

Zane’s broad hands massaged her upper arms. “Who strong-armed the Agency into awarding that defense contract to Aegis for Humbolt’s life?”

“How the hell would I know that?” Carter asked. “That shit’s decided by committee.”

“Was it Roberts?”

Eve stilled against Zane’s chest.

“ADD Roberts,” Carter said in a monotone voice. “In counterintelligence. You think he was involved in your failed raid in Guatemala?”

“I’ve heard . . . whispers,” Zane said.

His familiar voice echoed in his chest and vibrated into Eve’s body. But it was Carter’s silence that set her on edge.

“Christ,” Carter finally whispered. “Not here. Let’s get further down the path.”

Eve opened her eyes and pulled away from Zane, but before she turned, she caught the look on his resolute face. The one that said, Don’t worry, I’m not leaving you. The one that sent ripples of awareness all through her body.

They moved down the path and into the trees, and when Carter felt they were far enough so that no one could hear him, he stopped and turned their way. “I could get into serious hot water for this, but fuck it. You two are already in so much hot water it’s boiling. Roberts is gunning for the deputy director position within the Company. He’s got sway within the Agency. Big sway. Whether he had a hand in Aegis’s appointment to that op, I have no idea. But I will tell you this. He’s got no love for your boss Ryder. If you’re asking me on the record if he set Aegis up to take the fall in Guatemala, I’d say that’s bullshit. Everyone in the Company wanted Humbolt back alive. Off the record, though, I’d say most of us thought it was a suicide mission. No black ops team has ever infiltrated that cartel’s stronghold without major casualties.”

Eve’s gaze slowly slid Zane’s way.

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t look at her. His intense gaze was locked solidly on Carter. “Did Roberts know Eve had been tipped off that the op had been compromised?”

“I don’t know.” Carter frowned. “It’s possible, I guess. He might have known.”

So all of this—the Agency coming down on her—she was being punished because of Zane’s connection to Aegis? No. That was too . . . fucking simple.

She looked up at Carter. “Humbolt is the key to all of this. What was he working on?”

“I—”

“Eve.” Zane’s hand against her arm drew Eve around, and she looked down the path, toward a redheaded woman wearing slacks and a white blouse rolled up to her elbows, heading their direction.

“That’s Natalie,” she breathed.

Natalie tucked her shoulder-length hair behind her ears and eyed their group. When she caught Eve’s gaze, she nodded, then sat on the bench. But her eagle eyes were watching every move Zane and Carter made, and Eve knew she was surprised to find the players had multiplied.

Eve didn’t know the woman well. Natalie was in her midthirties and had been in the business a little longer than Eve, but her agency had always been more than willing to cooperate when Eve needed help, and over the years she’d been a solid contact Eve could count on.

They headed her direction. Sitting next to Natalie on the bench, Eve nodded toward the two men. “This is Carter and Sawyer.”

Natalie’s dark gaze locked on Zane. “I recognize you.”

“Don’t believe everything you see or read,” he said with a wink. “It’s never true.”

A wry smile curled her lips. “I never do.” Her humor faded as she focused on Eve. “People within your organization are asking questions. My agency’s been able to head them off so far, but it won’t be long before they discover we met.”

“I appreciate that. Natalie, I need to know about the file Tyrone Smith was supposed to sell to me. It’s at the root of all of this. It wasn’t a list of compromised agents like you led me to believe.”

Natalie’s wary gaze drifted to Zane, then Carter.

“It’s okay,” Eve assured her. “They’re safe.”

Natalie was silent a moment, looking them both over again, and Eve’s adrenaline surged over the possibility the woman might not tell what she knew.

Finally, Natalie’s gaze settled on Eve once more. “No. It wasn’t. I—”

“That was my doing,” Carter cut in.

Eve’s gaze snapped his way. “What?”

He glanced toward Natalie and then focused on Eve. “CSIS has been in contact with the Agency about this since before Humbolt was killed. When we realized Smith was the middleman Humbolt was using, we needed someone to get close to the file. ADD Roberts suggested you. He thinks quite highly of you, Juliet. Or at least, he did.”

Eve’s brow lowered. “What does Humbolt have to do with all of this?”

“A few years ago,” Natalie said, “a research team at the State University of New York chemically synthesized an artificial polio virus from scratch. You might have heard about it in the news. They started with the genetic sequence, which they found online, then created small DNA strands, which they combined to reconstruct the viral genome. They then added a chemical cocktail that brought the entire pathogenic virus to life. Polio, as you know, is an ineffective biological weapon, but Humbolt was applying their research techniques to other viruses.”

“What kind of viruses?” Zane asked. “Ebola, Marburg, Venezuelan equine encephalitis . . . all of those have been considered as biological weapons but ruled out because of a lack of efficient delivery method.”

“Correct,” Natalie said, looking up at him. “But Humbolt wasn’t concerned with those viruses.”

“What was he concerned with?” Eve asked.

Natalie focused on her again. “Our intel says one particularly nasty virus that was eradicated more than twenty years ago. One that’s officially only stored at two high-security laboratories in the world. One of which is in Russia. And the other—”

Shit. “The United States,” Eve breathed.

“Bingo,” Natalie answered.

“Smallpox,” Zane said, his gaze growing more serious. “You’re telling us Humbolt was working on the production of an artificially produced smallpox virus.”

“Yes.”

“Why?” Eve asked. “Why waste his time creating something for the government they already have access to?”

“Because he wasn’t working for the US government, Juliet,” Natalie said. “Adam Humbolt was a French citizen. Our intel says he was preparing to shop what he had to the highest bidder for a large sum of cash.”

“Holy shit,” Zane muttered.

Holy shit didn’t even begin to cover it. Slowly, Eve’s gaze slid back to Zane. He’d been right. The US government had set Aegis up. They’d needed that op in Guatemala to fail. They’d wanted Humbolt dead. And Zane had been caught in the crosshairs.

Her throat grew thick. She had to focus on the here and now. She faced Natalie again. “So the file—”

“We think it contained Humbolt’s research notes,” Carter answered. When she glanced his way again, he said, “We knew Smith was feeling out the competition and that Humbolt was ready to sell what he had to the highest bidder. The smallpox genome has over two hundred thousand base pairs, so creating an artificial virus is still years away, but his research would cut that time in half with the right scientists working on what he’d already found. The Agency was concerned and sent you in to get it back.”

“Without my knowing.”

“Let’s just say there were . . . questions”—he glanced toward Zane—“about where your loyalties rested. After the incident in Guatemala, Roberts wanted to make sure you were still committed to the Company. And then all this happened with the Chechens and Sawyer and you—”

Eve’s temper shot up. “I’m not in league with any Chechen terrorists.”

“I know that,” he said on a sigh. “But someone’s setting you up to make it look like you are. The big question is why.”

Eve’s pulse shot up. If anything, this little meeting had created more questions than answers.

That file was going to save her life, though. If she wanted to clear her name—clear Zane’s name—she needed to find it and prove her loyalty to the United States. She looked at Carter. “So where is the file now?”

“That, we don’t know.” He tucked his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “Smith was supposed to make the drop with you. The fact that he didn’t leads us to believe someone got to him before we did. Your disappearance from the scene of the bombing led to questions. Originally the Agency just wanted to pick you up to find out what had gone wrong. But after that cash was dumped into your account, and with the file still missing, well . . . let’s just say your involvement in all of this has jumped a few notches.”

A shriek echoed from the direction of the playground. Zane turned to look. From where he was standing, he had a better view through the trees than Eve did on the bench, but when he muttered, “Fuck,” under his breath, she knew a child hadn’t simply fallen off a swing or been hit by a Frisbee.

“What’s going on?” Eve asked, slowly pushing to her feet.

Zane pulled the Beretta from the holster at his lower back. “We’re about to have company.”

“Who?” Eve asked, reaching for her weapon. From the corner of her eye she saw Carter and Natalie do the same.

Zane shot her a we’re fucked look over his shoulder. “Your friends from the warehouse.”