Free Bait by Leslie Jones Page A

made it out the way Bobby had and went to the hotel room where we’d set up. It had been sanitized, so I went to the airfield. We had a plane standing by to extract us to Italy.”
    Would he care about the hours she had struggled to evade the smugglers? The terror when Yuri discovered her? Fedyenka’s fury, his shouted threats?
    No.
    Christina’s hand rose to her hair, remembered the styling gel, and dropped her arm into her lap. “The Osinovs knew about the airfield, too, because they arrived shortly after I did. There was a firefight. I . . . shot Yuri. Then a squad of SAS soldiers arrived and Fedyenka took off. I don’t know how, but he escaped. The whole mission was a bust. Because of me, Fedyenka moved the holding cages and pens, and we lost the opportunity to shut them down.”
    When he remained silent, she added, “Next thing I know, I’m in Azakistan doing paperwork.”
    Her boss, Jay Spicer, had protected her by removing her from center stage to allow the rumors to die a natural death. Obviously that hadn’t happened. She gave a deep sigh.
    Silence settled between them. Not even the sound of the fountain broke the quiet.
    â€œThank you,” he finally said, “for going through it with me.”
    Gabe straightened and took three steps back onto the path. Looking up, Christina saw a group of visitors wandering their way, chattering away in German. Their smiles dimmed as they took in Gabe’s formidable posture, casting curious looks her way as they hurried past.
    She waited for him to blast her, to disparage her as her own ­people had. When he remained silent, she finally dared to look up. He was examining her, brows furrowed, hands on his hips.
    â€œHow can you not know how you were made?”
    She smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from her trousers. “That’s the question of the hour. I’ve been over it and over it. I laid it out for Jay Spicer, my case officer. For Trevor, who led the team that got us out of Dodge. For the review board. I’ve examined every nuance of my behavior, and I just can’t see it.”
    He ran a hand along his chin, deep in thought. “It’s not adding up for me. All right. Let’s table it for now. Later I’ll see if I can spot anything that might help you.”
    Gabe wanted to help her? She blinked in astonishment.
    When he held out his hand to her, she took it without protest. Maybe it wouldn’t be so terrible working with Gabe. For the moment, anyway, he was being almost nice.
    She followed him back onto the path.

 
    Chapter Five
    â€œH ERE ’ S HOW THIS is going to work.”
    The mild sun warmed Gabe. Even as his eyes flickered from place to place, group to group, he allowed himself to enjoy the magnificence of the gardens. His Glock snugged close and comforting under his arm, hidden beneath his suit jacket. He missed his boot knives, but at least the specially modified dress shoes would allow him to run, if needed.
    â€œI’m going to be beside you when you make public appearances,” he told her. “Gavin will man the wheel, no exceptions. He’s hands-­down the best driver I’ve ever known. Mace will have overwatch—­he’ll find high ground with his sniper rifle. Tag and Alex will shadow us.” He glanced at her to make sure she understood. “We’ll all be hooked together by Bluetooth. You’ll also wear a wire as a backup, in case our comms fail. If you see anything that makes you nervous, sing out. Ditto if we do. We’ll tell you exactly where to go and what to do.”
    Christina hesitated, but finally nodded.
    Something about her story nagged at him. Maybe it was simply that she seemed so ready to accept blame for a mission that, by her own account, failed from all sides, not just hers.
    â€œWhy can’t I visit the children?” she asked. “They have leukemia and cancer, for God’s sake. A visit from