Free Black Ops 03 - Deadly Games by Cate Noble Page A

his tone rankled her. “To be honest, I don’t feel much like talking at the moment.”
    “It’s important. And urgent.”
    Gena looked past him, at the Border Patrol agents who were questioning a nurse. And then to where Helen sat, watching her with an odd expression.
    The last thing Gena wanted was to have to explain Rocco to Helen. Or even to Agent Ramirez. Because explaining Rocco meant walking down the hellish path called Her Past.
    Maybe the easiest and quickest way to get rid of him was to listen to whatever the hell he’d come there to say and then tell him to scram.
    “Follow me,” she snapped.

Chapter Eight
     
    Harry Gambrel was pissed that he hadn’t received advance warning that Rocco Taylor was en route to Sugar Springs.
    Seeing Rocco stroll through the front door of the hospital ten minutes ago had infuriated Harry. If Rocco got to Gena first …
    After confirming that Gena was unharmed, and learning that she refused to leave her injured friend, Harry and Edguardo had staked out the hospital entrances. The place was too small, too full of cops to risk going inside.
    Instead, Harry had slouched in his rental car, in the hospital’s crowded parking lot, watching through the small slits cut in a newspaper.
    As soon as he spotted Rocco, Harry called Ian Brown, the CIA mole he’d inherited from Abe Cald-well. “What the hell is Taylor doing in Texas?”
    “Rocco Taylor?” Ian sputtered. “My latest intel shows him on ice, here in D.C. Well crap! I suppose this means he’s operating off the grid now, too.”
    “Gee, you think?” Harry ground out. Travis Frankshad already pulled his own disappearing act. What good was an inside contact when all the players operated outside?
    “Well, on the bright side, it should keep Rocco off Minh Tran’s radar,” Ian pointed out.
    “That’s only helpful if we know what Tran is up to.”
    Harry would bet that Minh Tran had probably panicked when he’d learned that Rocco was in lockdown. If Tran’s pattern was the same as it had been in the past, he would cut and run, withdrawing to one of his jungle lairs until things cooled down. Or until he tracked down a new leverage point. All the more reason Harry needed to get to Gena.
    Within days, Madison Kohlmeyer’s body would probably be recovered, a graphic message not to fuck with Minh Tran. And with the analyst being only a low-level peon, the Agency wouldn’t waste man-hours over her death.
    “Recheck your intel, all of it. Find out where Dante Johnson and Max Duncan are right now and get back to me,” Harry snapped. “I need to know what I’m up against here.”
    “I know for a fact those two are en route to Kentucky, chasing down a lead on Taz. I’m guessing Rocco’s on his own.”
    “Don’t guess, confirm!” Harry disconnected just as Rocco came back out the front entrance with a woman.
    Harry squinted at the woman. Gena? What had happened to his ex–trophy wife? He’d heard she’d fallen on hard times, but damn. Didn’t the town have a beauty parlor?
    Harry called Edguardo, who was covering the ERentrance. “Our subject’s out front, but she has company. Stand by to follow.”
    But instead of leaving, Rocco stood off to one side while Gena chatted it up with some old lady, pointing and gesturing as if giving directions. What the fuck was going on?
    Rocco had his back to Harry, and Gena was in the shadows, so lipreading was out. What Harry wouldn’t have given for an electronic eavesdropping aid just then. Still, Gena’s body language came across loud and clear, her spine ramrod straight. She was pissed.
    “That makes two of us, darling,” Harry muttered.
    Harry’s phone vibrated briefly, indicating a text message. It was from Ian, confirming that Rocco’s official whereabouts were “unknown” and he was “believed unaccompanied.”
    Sounded like Harry had one up on the Agency.
    Watching Rocco and Gena made Harry think about that Marine’s sniper rifle again. Given the right angle,