Free Running on Empty by Christy Reece

new sanctuary. The one place where he could surround himself with everything he had missed. In one corner he had placed two floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. In front of the shelves were boxes filled with some of his favorite classics—their number only a fraction of his once extensive library. But it was a beginning.
    He didn’t wonder what Sabrina had done with his belongings. Made sense that she would have sold everything. His book collection alone would have brought a small fortune, which she would have pocketed, along with the money she made from her betrayal. It was just one more reason to hate her.
    The room’s remaining contents were simplistic, basic. A king-size bed, perfect for his large frame, was covered in bedding that smelled clean and fresh. In the corner, some free weights, a weight bench, and a boxing bag. After several months of intensive training, he was stronger and fitter than ever.
    His gaze moved to the kitchen area, which housed a small fridge, a microwave, a two-eyed stove, and a toaster. Gallons of spring water sat on the countertop. And in the bathroom, he had a running toilet, a sink, and an enclosed shower with clean, plentiful water.
    Instead of the peace he expected, bitterness, like a dark, evil entity, swirled within him. This was what he had been reduced to? A box of books, a toilet that flushed, and clean water? This was supposed to make him happy? After what she had done to him? After she had taken everything from him? He was supposed to settle for this?
    He turned his back on his small oasis and walked out the door. He had planned to give her some time to worry about why she had been taken. Suddenly, he didn’t give a damn about the psychological torture he had planned. He wanted answers, he wanted an explanation, and then he wanted vengeance. Her death was the only thing that would give him peace.

Chapter Six
     
    Washington, DC
    “Hello, Mr. McCall,” a cheerful, male voice said.
    The man who stood before Noah looked about as dangerous as the rescued black Lab puppy he and Samara had picked out for their kids last week. With iron-gray hair, a wrinkled, craggy face and twinkling, light blue eyes, he was the picture of non-threatening. In fact, if he put on about fifty pounds, he might make a convincing Santa Claus. No way was he involved in the dangerous world of covert ops.
    “And you are?” Noah asked.
    “Albert Marks.” He held out his hand. “You can call me Al.”
    The friendly, low-key demeanor made Noah more wary than ever. As he shook the older man’s hand, Noah noted the firm, solid grip along with the calluses on his trigger finger.
    “And I assume you are Sabrina’s former employer?”
    “Something like that.” He gazed around as he spoke. To a casual observer, it looked as though he was taking in the view, but the keen alertness in that sharp gaze made Noah reevaluate his first impression. This wasn’t a man who did anything without a reason.
    “Why don’t we walk and talk?” Albert said.
    Setting his gait to the slower pace of the older man, Noah waited for him to start. He had come to this meeting with almost no knowledge of what he would learn. When he hired Sabrina, it had been on the recommendation of Jordan Montgomery, who had, at one time, worked for the same agency. 
    Noah knew enough about Sabrina to trust her implicitly, but some things he had taken on faith. Though he usually liked to know as much about his operatives as possible in order to assess their strengths and weaknesses, he had accepted not knowing everything about Sabrina. Recommendations from one of his most trusted operatives, along with the knowledge that she had worked for the ultrasecretive EDJE had gone a long way in his hiring decision. He had never regretted his decision. For the years she had been an LCR operative, her job performance had been exemplary.
    “Sabrina was once our most valued female agent,” Marks said. “I oversaw her training. Watched her grow from a wary,