LITMIR.BIZ

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Craig growled. “He’s a soulless bastard.”

      “We still have eyes on Adrian McCormack, you know.” Craig shook his head. “He’s a loose cannon and I don’t trust him.”

      McCormack was the account specialist whose firm had previously handled everything for Maes. Until Lauren became the shiny new penny at Heath Financial, got close to Valentin Desmet, and swiped the account from under McCormack’s nose. He continued to badmouth her, even after all this time.

      “He can’t still be on a tear over what happened.” She frowned. “I thought he got over the whole thing. As he loves to say, it’s just business.”

      Craig shook his head. “You grabbed a major account from him. From his firm. You think they would ever forget something like this? Or let him forget it? He’s been doing his best to find out whatever he can about you. I worry that he’ll somehow manage to turn up something and take it to Maes to expose you.”

      “Expose me how? He doesn’t know a damn thing about me.” She scowled. “Right? My cover is still in place? Isn’t it?”

      God! Was he trying to tell her something?

      “Of course. But you and I both know if someone pays enough money to the right people, no information is sacred.”

      “Wait. Are you saying there’s a leak somewhere?” Butterflies began dancing the tarantella in her stomach. Damn! She’d been warned from the very first day there was always a remote possibility her cover might be blown, but she had been assured ten times over the percentage of that happening was very small.

      Craig shook his head. “No. I’m not saying that. But I am telling you there’s always that possibility. If McCormack is bitter enough, if his life has been destroyed enough, there’s always the chance he’ll find a way to make this whole thing blow up.”

      “The escape plan is still in place, right?”

      He nodded. “We can activate with one phone call. I promise you that. Your safety is a primary goal.”

      She blew out a breath. “Good. I know, but it helps to hear you say it.”

      “We don’t want anything to happen to you,” he assured her. “Like I said, I just have a funny feeling.” He studied her face. “I expect you took the usual precautions getting here tonight?”

      “I did. Just like always.”

      “Good.” He leaned toward her. “Tell me about tonight’s dinner with Desmet.”

      She told him about her dinner and what the man had said about next week.

      “I’ve a feeling about this, Craig.” She couldn’t keep the edge of excitement from her voice. “This might be information that leads me to other men he did business with. He’s been scrupulous about not leaving any trail, even in his secret accounts.”

      “If that’s so, you need to be doubly careful,” he cautioned. “Especially with McCormack out there.”

      “I hear you.”

      “And if we don’t get these men this time, Lauren, the CIA will keep trying. But Maes is the big fish they want.”

      She nodded. “Let me just see what Desmet hands me next week and how I can use it. Then, if you still have this feeling, we can roll it up.”

      She’d spent months in place establishing herself, to reach a point where people stopped checking everything she did. It had taken a while, but at last she felt comfortable using the program Craig had given her. It blocked her digital fingerprint on the mainframe at Heath Financial, so no one could track what she was doing. She might have an itchy feeling, but after all her hard work and living on the edge for three years, she didn’t want to quit before the end. She was determined to get every last scrap of information she could before leaving Lauren Masters behind.

      “All right. What else?”

      She fished a thumb drive from a hidden pocket in her jacket sleeve. Craig’s hand covered hers on the table, and that quick, he had it and stashed it away.

      “Not much, but every little bit helps, right? I hope whatever I find out next week closes the books on Maes.”

      “And good riddance,” Craig said. “The man’s a blight on the world.”

      “Amen to that.”

      They sipped a bit from their drinks, always scanning the pub to see who might be suspect. Lauren had learned by now what signs to look for.

      Craig checked his watch. “We need to wrap this up. You have the other phone I gave you?”

      “I do.” She patted her pocket. “Always carry it with me.”

      “Good.”

      At their first meeting, he’d given her two burner phones. One was used to set up their meetings as well as for any conversation they needed to have between those meetings. The other only had one number programmed into it. His. If she ever had a real emergency, if her work was discovered and a trap set, all she had to do was press one button. Conversely, if he ever called her on that phone it meant the operation was shut down, and she was to get the hell out of Dodge to the prearranged meeting place for extraction.

      “Okay.” He leaned back in the booth. “Call me next week after you find out what this latest with Maes is about and we’ll set up a time to meet. Be prepared to be pulled out right after that.”

      “I will.” She tugged her hat down on her head and was sliding from the booth when Craig reached out and grabbed her wrist.

      “I can’t stress this enough. Be careful, Lauren. My Spidey senses are tingling.”

      “I will. I promise.” She had no wish to get crosswise with Stefan Maes.

      As she exited the Dirty Dog, she pulled her jacket tighter around her body and turned up the collar. The temperature had dipped again while she was inside and there was a sharp nip in the air. Craig’s words echoed in her brain and she felt as if she had a target painted on her back. She walked with rapid steps to the closest Tube station. A mob still crowded the sidewalks despite the temperature, and she had to fight her way through it, all her senses on high alert.

      Even when she reached the station she scanned every area the way she’d been trained. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Just the usual Friday night late crowd, everything from singles and couples heading home after a night out to the usual lowlifes who seemed to spend their lives in the Tube stations.

      She was smart and savvy enough, however, to know that didn’t mean anything. At each station she was careful to choose where she stood to wait. She changed trains twice, and damn it, why did it seem as if all the cars on the three trains she rode were full past capacity? She had that familiar twitchy feeling between her shoulder blades, as if someone was watching her. Or worse yet, aiming a gun at her.

      Her eyes never stopped moving. Did that guy in the black jacket look at her strangely? Was that a gun in his pocket? Maybe it was the woman watching her from the corner of her eye. At one station she boarded a train then just before it took off, leaped out, and waited for the next one. But that twitchy feeling was still there.

      She hadn’t tripped any wires. She knew she hadn’t. And Craig was just being his usual old lady self. That was what he got paid for. So why had she been feeling this way all week?

      From the beginning, she’d been able to play her part because she knew her handler had her back. She just hoped that neither of them was overreacting.

      She was exhausted by the time she exited the final stop of the night. Again, she searched the streets as she hiked from the train to the building where she entered the tunnel. Were those footsteps she heard behind her? A man was out walking his dog, and she closed her hand over the gun in her pocket, just in case.

      Tap, tap, tap.

      When she looked over her shoulder she saw an old man walking with a cane. What

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