Page List


Font:  

Chapter Forty-three

“Where are we going?” Alia knew Sloan was upset. Hell, she felt the same. They had screwed up on their first task and it didn’t sit well with her at all.

Sloan turned her way and answered. “First I’m going to the office and get a couple of microphones that we can plant in the room where those two are staying. Sam said they opted to take the guest suite off the summer kitchen and wanted to sleep in the bunk beds there.”

“I remember they both came out of the same room when Dina called them earlier.”

“I figure if one of us can get in there and plant the tap, you can listen to their conversations and we can get a better idea of what we’re up against. I know that Homeland can’t step on toes when trying to get intel about possible suspects, but it’s hard to fathom that those two mixed-up young people are involved in espionage or terrorism.”

“That’s true. But then again, they weren’t being open about their activities. I’m not sure if you heard – you were talking with Sam – but when Janna tried to explain about the arrangements she’d made for them to go sight-seeing, they told her to cancel them. They had friends who would be taking them around. When she’d asked who they were, they made up a story about people they’d met back home.”

“And that’s a lie because…?”

“Because when I overheard them talking in their own language, Leah asked how they’d know the people who were picking them up were the ones from Facebook. And Yasir had answered, ‘Who else would know the address?’”

“Okay, that puts a different spin on things. We’ll go and get that equipment.”

“Agreed. Just have one other question.”

“Shoot.”

“You’re going in the wrong direction, why?”

“That’s because I’m heading for the garage where you keep your extra wheels hidden. I think it’s time we did another switch.”

Alia began to laugh. “You’re full of good ideas tonight.” She gazed at him and saw his hair blowing every which way before he gathered it to tuck it behind his ear. His muscular frame at ease behind the wheel, his arm now riding the open window sill, fingers tapping against the leather, he looked relaxed and in charge.

He grinned at her. “Are you talking about my earlier brainwave?”

“Oh, you mean where I’m naked and willing in your bed.” Alia had no idea what possessed her to say the words but she loved his reaction. Like he’d been shot. Watching him squirm satisfied the devil in her as she waited for his reply.

“You’re a wicked, wicked woman, you know that?”

Giggling softly, she kinda liked that impression. She put her arm on her windowsill also and let the balmy ocean breeze cool her hot skin. Watching the tourists wandering along the pavement, catching the distinct odor of meat barbecuing from a beachside luau nearby, all intermixing with the sea-smell that she’d begun to love, her heart lifted and for the first time in many long years, she felt young and happy… and thrillingly alive.


Tags: Mimi Barbour Thriller