Free Naughty by Ann Voss Peterson, J.A. Konrath, Jack Kilborn

spot it. Manual detonation, once you went in.”
    Hammett hadn’t found a detonator on Forsyth. “The cell phone? Dial a bomb?”
    “No. The lighter. Don’t open it unless you want your place destroyed.”
    “Wouldn’t want that. I’ve got thousands invested in my clothes.”
    Forsyth looked at Hammett, then began to laugh. Hammett had said it because she’d sewn hundred dollar bills into every outfit, and apparently Forsyth did the same and got the joke.
    “How are you supposed to know when I entered the apartment?” Hammett was curious. Her window shades were drawn, the lights off. She’d been planning on slipping in and out in less than thirty seconds.
    “Ludlum has a scancorder.”
    Hammett had heard of scancorders. They were allegedly devices that used microwaves and Doppler radar to detect a human heartbeat from many meters away, including through walls and concrete. Developed in the private sector to search for earthquake victims in rubble, the military applications were obvious.
    “I didn’t think those existed yet,” Hammett said.
    “Officially, they don’t. Unofficially, they’re cool as hell.”
    She was chatty for someone about to die. Maybe it had to do with working with a partner for a few years. Hammett had always been a lone wolf. She preferred it that way.
    “Have you and Ludlum always worked together?”
    “Only for the past three years.”
    “Recruited by The Instructor?”
    Another nod. “You’re Hydra, too?”
    Hammett stayed quiet.
    “Why does Isaac want you dead?” Forsyth asked.
    “I had some personal business to attend to. He considered it going rogue.”
    “Isaac’s an asshole.”
    That was an understatement. It was also personal. If Forsyth had Hammett’s training, she’d been taught to offer nothing. Yet both Clancy and Forsyth had given up a lot of intel with very little persuasion. Was it their hope Hammett wouldn’t kill them, because they looked alike and were trying to bond?
    Or did they actually feel a bond?
    Hammett had felt something like a bond with Heath. Enough of one to not kill him when she probably should have. But she didn’t know what it was like to chat with a sister. Without wanting to, Hammett thought of her terrible childhood, and suddenly felt an urge to ask Forsyth about hers. Had she had decent parents, rather than a psycho? Friends? Normal relationships?
    Hammett had spent her high school prom beating a rival gang member to death with a bike chain, which probably wasn’t something many seventeen year old girls could claim. What would it have been like to grow up normal?
    “Mathieson is coming up. Left or right?” Forsyth asked.
    “Neither. Pull into the next alley, where you call your sister and tell her to bring the bomb in my apartment.”
    “She won’t listen. She’ll know I’ve been compromised.”
    Hammett knew she could force Forsyth to make the call, but the problem remained. Any weird calls from Forsyth, and Ludlum would be on alert, and much harder to subdue. Besides, even with a weapon, it wasn’t easy to maintain control over one person, let alone two. Especially when both had training. Even as Forsyth drove, seemingly at ease, Hammett could see the wheels turning in her sister’s head, plotting how to get out of this situation.
    The smart move would be to kill Forsyth, impersonate her, and get close enough to Ludlum to kill her as well.
    “You’ll need help eliminating Isaac,” Forsyth said, no doubt trying to remain essential while knowing her minutes were numbered. “Ludlum and I can help. We’ve been thinking about leaving Hydra for a while. If Isaac is a hard target, a team will have better odds. Do you still want me to pull into an alley? There’s one behind the Quickie Dry Cleaning.”
    Something pinged in Hammett’s brain. The things Forsyth said among the banter.
    Right? On Alberta? Mathieson is coming up. Quickie Dry Cleaning.
    Forsyth was telling Ludlum their location.
    Hammett grabbed Forsyth’s scalp by