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"Of course." He felt no shame about that, but on seeing her disappointment, he wondered just what she thought of that. "Does that bother you?" She shrugged and he frowned. "I don't give you grief about loving s.e.x."
Her eyebrows shot up. "Why would you?"
"The theory goes that only s.l.u.ts enjoy it."
Jordan's face turned crimson and she snapped, "What the h.e.l.l is that supposed to mean?"
Chapter 15 Into Danger.
The moment Riley said "s.l.u.t," Jordan felt heat rush across her body and into her face. He'd made her body ache from pleasure and desire before, but never pain. Jake had used her for years and the memory still stung, as much as she wanted to live free of past demons. Some things were easier said than done.
Riley asked, "What is what supposed to mean?"
She accused, "You called me a s.l.u.t!"
"What? I did not!"
She didn't like that he sounded surprised and denied saying it. "Sure sounded like it."
"That's not what I meant or what I said. Come on, you know me better by now."
"Do I? It hasn't even been a week."
He reached for her hand but she pulled it away. "Don't put words in my mouth."
"That's the word that came out of your mouth!"
He took a deep breath. "Look, I'm sorry. I was only pointing out that society says a woman can't have an interest in s.e.x unless she wants to be called a s.l.u.t. She has to act like a lady in public and act like she doesn't care about s.e.x."
Jordan flushed and hissed, "Because I suggested we have s.e.x on the airplane? Is that it?"
"No. Listen, I'm sorry I did a s.h.i.tty job of making my point, which is that guys aren't allowed to cry, right? Even though it's human. So there you sat, looking disappointed when I admitted that I've cried. It's a stereotype, and a ridiculous one. Well, it works both ways. Loving s.e.x is human but society says women aren't allowed to do that. I felt like you were disapproving of me for crying, so I pointed out, maybe in a stupid way, that I don't give you s.h.i.t about loving s.e.x. Does that make sense?"
That brought her up short. It did make sense. Now she flushed for a different reason, feeling a little stupid and judgmental about his crying and for a.s.suming he meant something bad. The anger vanished, but a deep weariness suddenly overcame her. She suddenly felt so tired that she just wanted to lie down and forget about her life. Forever.
"Yes," she admitted glumly, "that makes sense. I'm sorry. I don't know why I a.s.sumed that."
He took her hand and this time she let him. "Are you feeling self-conscious about the plane thing? I mean, it was your idea."
"No. I don't think so. I don't know. Maybe I am." She sighed.
"Why don't we go do something to take our minds off of everything?"
She nodded, still upset but trying to let it go. Was she feeling self-conscious about how much she enjoyed s.e.x with him? Not really, but for a minute there she'd a.s.sumed he was judging her for it even though he normally didn't seem to. She didn't really know why she'd reacted like that, but she felt kind of embarra.s.sed and wanted to pretend that hadn't just happened, so she changed the subject.
"Okay," she began, "but tomorrow I want us to be all business as we head to Paris to finish this thing in the next couple days, hopefully."
"Whatever you want."
They paid the bill and left the restaurant, walking hand-in-hand along the sea until they found a movie theater. They ignored the dramas, action flicks, and science fiction films for a comedy, not wanting anything with seriousness, war or death. It felt good to laugh, the mental vacation sorely needed for Jordan more than Riley, who stole quick peeks at her to a.s.sess her mood. She noticed after a while and tried to rea.s.sure him with demeanor and affection that she was okay. A moment of silliness-the wrong kind-had taken place back at the restaurant and she vowed to make it up to him.
But when they retired to the hotel, they just cuddled until drifting to sleep. Maybe level emotions going into the next few days would be a good thing. Jordan even suggested they not have s.e.x until the mission was over, the way athletes save up their strength before a big game. He agreed despite obvious disappointment.
The next day, they arranged to keep the room for over a week so anyone who looked into their whereabouts would a.s.sume they'd been here the whole time. They told the housekeeping staff to stay out so their absence wouldn't be noticed so easily. Only then did Riley realize he should've had a sibling come with them to keep up appearances there. Maybe Chloe could fly out. But it was Kris who agreed, as the riding lessons and other barn duties could be handled by others, whereas Chloe's work as a vet required her presence. They told the hotel staff to give Kris a key when she arrived the next day.
By noon, they left the hotel and drove into France in a rental car. While they could be traced to Barcelona, no one would ever know they went to France after, as long as they didn't get pulled over for some reason-and she drove safely to avoid that. For rentals and hotels, they would use her fake IDs and accounts.
The trip took most of the day, providing plenty of opportunity to get more acquainted. Sometimes they just listened to music, or rode in silence, but talk soon turned to sniper habits and favorite guns, things to do at the range, and gun jokes. Jordan had never experienced that sort of thing with Jake and felt the bond with Riley growing deeper by the hour. She felt level-headed today, more so than since they'd met, and knew their moratorium on carnal pleasures, however regretful, would serve them well. This was all business now.
They finally arrived in Paris and drove to one of her hidden stashes of guns and ammo, a warehouse a few blocks from the bistros and tourist attractions. A security guard patrolled the perimeter, where cameras and keypads guarded everything inside. Acting nonchalant, they made their way to her room, where she opened the padlock and lifted the door, not worrying about the lone other customer doing things at his own room down the hall. Riley saw why at once, for everything was in duffel bags, suitcases, or steel cases. You couldn't tell this was an armory without looking inside those.
"I know what's where," said Jordan, moving toward a pile of bags, "so no need to open anything."
"Is all of this what I think it is?"
"No. Some of it is clothes and other basics. Cash, too, various currencies."
Jordan hefted two bags and Riley picked another pair she indicated. A few more trips and they'd loaded the car with everything they needed. Then they drove to a hotel in an urban area, the idea being that crowds would keep most people from paying much attention to them. They let hotel staff move the bags in a show of not caring, to ward off suspicion, playing the happy couple all the while. It wasn't until they were in the room that they closed the drapes and began laying out the weapons on the bed. Two rifles, several handguns, Tasers, batons, handcuffs, scopes, binoculars, pepper spray, boxes of bullets and cartridges, and other trinkets soon adorned the sheets in neat rows.
"I know we said no s.e.x," Riley began, "but I really want to f.u.c.k you right in the middle of this pile."
She grinned. "That would be hot. Save it for later!"
They settled in for a couple hours of tending to all the gear and making sure everything was in working order. Jordan gazed at him fondly as they sat shoulder to shoulder, fingers sometimes brushing each other's as they exchanged oil bottles, rags, and other tools. She'd never thought of it as a romantic thing to do, but stranger things had happened.
She'd come to realize after the mile high club incident that she rather liked the danger of it. This truth had been nagging at the back of her mind since then, for she'd never particularly liked shooting people, even if they really were criminals, and most of the danger in her life had been while on missions. But there was a certain excitement that came with this territory. Public s.e.x wasn't the wisest replacement for that, but she wondered if she'd get bored back in Maryland with Riley, when all was said and done.
Once everything was working, they concealed handguns on themselves and took a few other items like handcuffs, binoculars, a long-range listening device, and a camera to pretend they were tourists. But before heading out to scope Thomas' headquarters for signs of him, they stopped at two places where they could get a wig or two, and hats.
"How long do you think we'll have to hang out here?" Riley asked, eyes darting to the Eiffel Tower that was blocks away but still easily visible. They sat on a park bench, nibbling from a bag of popcorn while pretending to look at some local walking maps, like tourists planning their day. A few tourists were nearby, but the three-story office building where she'd last seen Thomas giving her orders was slightly off the beaten path.
"Not long," she replied. "He's always gone out or home for a late lunch."
Riley glanced at his watch. The Parisians apparently ate late, for it was well past the earlier lunch Jordan and he had shared. She'd explained that getting into the office here was complicated if you didn't want to be remembered, so they planned to get Thomas at home, but they didn't know where that was. Hopefully he wasn't expecting to be followed.
"There he is," said Jordan, shielding her mouth with popcorn. "Tan jacket, brown hair, blue jeans."
Riley's eyes hardened as he discreetly appraised the white man in his forties. Thomas was tall, lean, somewhat distinguished, with intelligent brown eyes that casually scanned nearby pedestrians while he strode to a black Mercedes on the curb. He used a remote fob to unlock the vehicle and get in, prompting Jordan and Riley to rise and move quickly but discreetly to their rental car. She kept her face averted until they'd gotten into the car, and she steered it around another vehicle. They pursued on the sometimes narrow and often crowded streets of Paris.
"Don't lose him," Riley said, as Thomas made it through an intersection and they waited for pedestrians to cross before following.
"I know," Jordan replied, a little annoyed. He patted her thigh. Okay, so maybe he wasn't patronizing, just verbalizing the same tension she felt on seeing their quarry getting away. She tried to relax.
Driving onward, she rounded the last corner Thomas had disappeared around and they found him having to wait for street walkers, too. A glance down the road revealed similar obstacles abounded and he was unlikely to leave them behind anytime soon.
It took twenty minutes of such challenges before they drove over the Seine River into the suburbs, where traffic lightened a bit and following became easier. They settled in to staying several car lengths back and keeping an eye on stop lights to make sure they always made it through.
"I a.s.sume he's headed home after all," Riley remarked.
"We'll know soon enough. I'd love to get this over with today."
"Let's not be too eager and make a mistake. We might need until tomorrow."
She sighed, knowing he was right. Rushing was unlike her. Being a sniper meant long hours of waiting for a kill shot. The patience was something she'd dealt with for many years. But those missions had never been personal. Taking it personally could get you killed. Jake had proven that effectively, though there was no way to know if that's why he'd screwed up. She wondered if Jake was supposed to have checked in with Thomas by now, but she'd been checking his phone at times and seen no communications, including Thomas asking about his whereabouts. It gave her an idea.
"If where he's going doesn't work out for what we need to do, maybe we can use Jake's phone to lure Thomas somewhere."
Riley grunted. "Any idea where?"
She began to smile. "Yeah. To Jake's place. He'd never suspect a thing if we gave him a good story."
"That's good. Do you know where it is?"
"Yeah. He'd moved since we were together, but I tailed him a few times when I came back."
"Why?"
"To gain an upper hand, and not be surprised by his locations."
"He's got more than one?"
"Oh yeah. Four that I counted, but one will do better than the others."
She laughed, feeling relieved. She was used to firing a gun, not kidnapping people, which posed all sorts of risks to both of them. This would be much easier, and for the first time since they'd decided to do this, she didn't feel that worried anymore. She leaned back into the driver's seat and only then realized that she'd been leaning forward a little, on edge.
"You okay?" Riley asked.
She hadn't meant to let on. "Yeah. Let's just tail him and see where he goes. Luring him to Jake's place means it doesn't even matter if we lose him now."
"True. But you never know what we might learn."
And before long they learned something that changed everything.
Chapter 16 Death in Paris.
Following Thomas, Jordan and Riley left a main road for a residential area, no other cars on the road but them, which left no one else to hide behind. If Thomas took too many turns that they repeated, they'd give themselves away, but he pa.s.sed a school, playground, and country club before turning into the driveway of a two-story house where the bikes of small children lay on the lawn amid an a.s.sortment of b.a.l.l.s and other toys.
"s.h.i.t," Jordan swore, driving past the house without slowing down. "He has kids."
Riley nodded and didn't say anything for a moment, gesturing at a parking lot they could pull into. "Are we okay with killing their dad?"
Jordan pursed her lips as she turned off the road and faced the car back toward Thomas, who could be seen lifting one of the kids in his arms. "I don't like it. But if he knows we're alive, we have to."
"And yet he doesn't know now. We could just walk away."
That surprised Jordan, who turned to him, scrutinizing his face. "Are you gonna feel safe if we don't get who hired him?"
"No, but I don't really want to kill someone's dad."
He was right, but she said, "We've probably both done it before and not known it."
"True. Knowing makes it harder."
"But we know he's doing bad things in the world. Killing people without cause, killing other people's parents, probably without cause." Like I almost did, she thought in regard to Riley. Thomas had it coming, but was she really any better for doing it? It seemed like it to her, but then maybe Jordan had had it coming in Thomas' mind.
Riley stared at their target, who put down the kid and went inside. "Can't argue with that. You're certain he's the only one with the intel we need?"
"Probably. Jake might've known. They seldom told me the client but then Thomas never trusted me. Jake was more his right hand man."
"Okay, so we still need Thomas. There's no way to question him without him knowing it's us."
That gave her an idea and she wished she'd thought of it sooner. "Actually, there might be."
He c.o.c.ked an eyebrow. "Let's hear it."
"We've already planned to be disguised when we kidnap him. If I don't speak, he'll never know it's me, and if I stay out of sight or we keep him blindfolded, he won't know a woman is one of the pair. He doesn't know your voice. You can pretend you're another Marine or someone avenging you."
Riley looked intrigued. "Not bad, but it calls attention to us again and might make Thomas investigate who's come to do that, leading to scrutiny that reveals we're both still alive."
She sighed. "That's true. Maybe we can reveal that Jake was captured and this is how we found out. It could throw him off."
"Maybe. We can work it out later. I think we've seen enough for now. We can't grab him here, or at his office. Luring him to Jake's is our best bet now."
Jordan put the car in reverse and drove away, a bit disappointed they couldn't do the job now, but the new possibility offered hope.
"Will you be okay with us not finding out why Thomas tried to kill you?" Riley asked as they headed back to the hotel. "If we're letting him go, he can't know we're alive, and so we can't ask."
She didn't answer at first, not being sure what to say. "I can probably guess why he wanted to. I don't think it really matters, and it certainly doesn't matter as much as finding out who hired him to kill you and why. I think I can live with it. Otherwise, the risk to us is too great. If it means not killing him for his kids, then so be it."
Riley squeezed her hand. "I think it's the better thing to do."
"So do I," she admitted. Part of her really wanted to put a bullet in Thomas' head, but she'd have to settle for imagining it.
They arrived at the hotel within an hour and worked out their plan for getting Thomas to Jake's. First, they needed to make sure they could get in and set their trap, so after a meal, they drove the thirty minutes to one of Jake's condos inside Paris, bringing everything they needed for an interrogation: handcuffs, stun gun, hoods, their disguises, firearms, and various supplies for breaking in and cleaning up after themselves.
The living quarters were on the fifth floor of a complex that had minimal security, probably so that Jake could come and go without being noticed. Jordan knew how he thought and that he probably had the placed rigged with cameras and motion sensors. Like her, he kept a weapons stash elsewhere, and this place was mostly living quarters. He was presumably only interested in having the ident.i.ty of someone who'd broken in; since nothing of value was here, a break-in would mean his ident.i.ty had been compromised because there was little reason to break in other than searching for intel. Jordan also knew that any alarm would be silent and likely alert his phone instead of the cops, whom he wouldn't want to involve. After all, when he tracked down an intruder and killed them, the police would never trace it to him.