I didn’t ask how they ascertained all this, or came up with the information. It was getting more and more obvious though.
“So you’re CIA?”
Holden laughed. Randall laughed harder.
“Really? Do we look like that?”
“Does anyone?”
The two men turned to each other and laughed again. They way they reacted in tandem, I could tell they’d been around each other a while. A few hours ago they were at each other’s throats. Now they were buddies again. Comrades. Teammates.
“So you’re military…”
Randall gave me an approving look. Holden scratched at his chin.
“SEALs,” he said, until Randall cleared his throat. “My bad. Ex-SEALs.”
“Wow,” I said.
I meant it, of course. I’d never met a SEAL. And I’d met a lot of people, with a lot of specializations. That part came with growing up with my father. Although he’d done everything to keep his personal life separate from everything he did for Indigo, there were always a few parts that bled through.
“So you’re SEALs… working against Indigo,” I said carefully.
Holden shook his head. “We couldn’t give a shit about Indigo.”
“Kyrkos, then?”
They nodded, again in tandem.
“And you’re doing this all on your own?”
“Is that so hard to believe?” asked Holden. “You’re doing the same thing.”
“And you’re a girl,” Randall added, as if it weren’t obvious. I smirked at him dryly. He winked back.
“And you’re doing it alone,” added Holden. “Which is even more amazing than your being a girl.”
“I don’t know,” his partner whistled. He was looking me up and down again. “The girl part is pretty amazing, too.”
I watched as Randall reached into a bag and threw something my way. I caught it in mid air; a balled-up pair of sweatpants, and a crumpled T-shirt.
“Don’t mind me saying this Shortcake,” he chuckled, “but you look like absolute hell.” He jerked the tip of his beard toward one of the steel doors. “Shower’s that way.”
For the first time all night — now morning — I took stock of my situation. I’d just failed an assassination attempt, narrowly escaped on a stolen boat, then inexplicably flown back on a plane. My beautiful red dress was disgusting. My stockings were shredded. My panties were at the bottom of a restroom garbage on the isle of Rhodes, a few hundred miles away.
Shit, I could only imagine what my hair looked like.
Oh yeah, and I’d also fucked a complete stranger. One who I thought was the man responsible for my father’s demise, but who somehow turned out to be there for the exact same reasons I was.
And even dirtier than that… I’d enjoyed it.
Randall was still staring at me through the absurdity of it all, almost as if he could read every thought in my mind. His mustaches parted as his mouth broke into a broad, white-toothed grin.
“Hell of a fucking night, ain’t it?”
Nine
RANDALL