too.”
Alex snarled at him, but didn’t say anything. Grace felt heat climbing her neck. She still couldn’t believe she’d fallen for that.
“And two,” Gallagher continued. “What we have here is a scared-shitless little boy. And even if the mission is flawless, it’s going to be terrifying for him, and he’ll fight us, Alex. He doesn’t know us, and we’ll be just more bad guys with guns. If he breaks and runs, then we’re freakin’ chasing him while they’re shooting at us, and it all goes to hell.”
Grace nodded. She knew where he was going with this, and even Alex had stopped scowling quite so fiercely.
Gallagher shrugged. “We bring Grace and we have total control of the kid. He sees his mom and he’ll be like duct tape on her, man.”
Alex was staring at her, and Grace forced herself to look him straight in the eye. “You never doubted me in the field before, Alex.”
“You’ve been out of the loop a while.”
“I’ve kept up with my physical conditioning and put in time at the range while Danny was in school. And it’s still there. I can feel it, just like I did when Rustikov was in my kitchen. Am I at the top of my game? No. It’s been years since I’ve been in the field. But I’m still good and, like Gallagher said, I can control Danny.”
Alex watched her. “Okay. You’re in. Now let’s map this out and get Danny back.”
Chapter Five
Grace bounced gently on the balls of her feet, clenching and unclenching her fists at her side. In brand-new khaki cargo pants and a tight-fitting, long-sleeved black T-shirt, with her favorite Nike crosstrainers on her feet, she was ready. To use a phrase from her youth, she was pumped.
And the waiting sucked. They were at rest on the far side of a neighboring island, waiting for the go signal. Carmen was monitoring and feeding Gallagher live satellite feed, and some of the finest agents in the world were now on standby, waiting for her eight-year-old son to have to take a leak.
The outhouse was a modern blue plastic job, and they’d watched the footage closely. When he went in, the indicator moved, showing he’d locked the door. Then the two guys guarding him would relax, wander away and share a smoke. That lock would hopefully buy them the few precious seconds they needed.
She took a deep breath, rolling her shoulders, keeping her muscles warm and limber for the mission ahead. And yet again she visualized Gallagher’s plan, walking mentally through the steps necessary to safely remove their extraction target.
And that’s what Danny was now. An extraction target. His picture was folded up in one of her pockets and the image of his scared eyes was seared across her heart. He was her baby, but now he was her mission.
She felt the adrenaline building and closed her eyes, welcoming the flow through her bloodstream. It had always been her drug of choice and for years she’d been a junkie. Waiting for the juice, riding the high. Coming down, usually on the waves of a shattering orgasm as Alex took her against the wall or a door or whatever hard surface was handy in an adrenaline-fueled frenzy.
But London had been her epiphany, motherhood her recovery program. Every day she denied herself that hit and buried the Grace she’d been just a little deeper inside.
When another mom made noises about volunteering with the drug prevention program, Grace didn’t tell her she’d once shot a Columbian drug lord between the eyes from a distance the woman probably couldn’t even see. She let Danny hang Mission: Impossible posters in his room and pretend to be Tom Cruise without ever letting on she could have kicked that Ethan character’s ass.
She’d hung up her action-adventure gun belt and strapped on an apron. It didn’t quite fit—in fact it chafed like hell—but it had seemed like the right outfit for the job.
Now Grace let the rush come. It was better than chocolate. Better than a good sneeze. It was like the
Alex snarled at him, but didn’t say anything. Grace felt heat climbing her neck. She still couldn’t believe she’d fallen for that.
“And two,” Gallagher continued. “What we have here is a scared-shitless little boy. And even if the mission is flawless, it’s going to be terrifying for him, and he’ll fight us, Alex. He doesn’t know us, and we’ll be just more bad guys with guns. If he breaks and runs, then we’re freakin’ chasing him while they’re shooting at us, and it all goes to hell.”
Grace nodded. She knew where he was going with this, and even Alex had stopped scowling quite so fiercely.
Gallagher shrugged. “We bring Grace and we have total control of the kid. He sees his mom and he’ll be like duct tape on her, man.”
Alex was staring at her, and Grace forced herself to look him straight in the eye. “You never doubted me in the field before, Alex.”
“You’ve been out of the loop a while.”
“I’ve kept up with my physical conditioning and put in time at the range while Danny was in school. And it’s still there. I can feel it, just like I did when Rustikov was in my kitchen. Am I at the top of my game? No. It’s been years since I’ve been in the field. But I’m still good and, like Gallagher said, I can control Danny.”
Alex watched her. “Okay. You’re in. Now let’s map this out and get Danny back.”
Chapter Five
Grace bounced gently on the balls of her feet, clenching and unclenching her fists at her side. In brand-new khaki cargo pants and a tight-fitting, long-sleeved black T-shirt, with her favorite Nike crosstrainers on her feet, she was ready. To use a phrase from her youth, she was pumped.
And the waiting sucked. They were at rest on the far side of a neighboring island, waiting for the go signal. Carmen was monitoring and feeding Gallagher live satellite feed, and some of the finest agents in the world were now on standby, waiting for her eight-year-old son to have to take a leak.
The outhouse was a modern blue plastic job, and they’d watched the footage closely. When he went in, the indicator moved, showing he’d locked the door. Then the two guys guarding him would relax, wander away and share a smoke. That lock would hopefully buy them the few precious seconds they needed.
She took a deep breath, rolling her shoulders, keeping her muscles warm and limber for the mission ahead. And yet again she visualized Gallagher’s plan, walking mentally through the steps necessary to safely remove their extraction target.
And that’s what Danny was now. An extraction target. His picture was folded up in one of her pockets and the image of his scared eyes was seared across her heart. He was her baby, but now he was her mission.
She felt the adrenaline building and closed her eyes, welcoming the flow through her bloodstream. It had always been her drug of choice and for years she’d been a junkie. Waiting for the juice, riding the high. Coming down, usually on the waves of a shattering orgasm as Alex took her against the wall or a door or whatever hard surface was handy in an adrenaline-fueled frenzy.
But London had been her epiphany, motherhood her recovery program. Every day she denied herself that hit and buried the Grace she’d been just a little deeper inside.
When another mom made noises about volunteering with the drug prevention program, Grace didn’t tell her she’d once shot a Columbian drug lord between the eyes from a distance the woman probably couldn’t even see. She let Danny hang Mission: Impossible posters in his room and pretend to be Tom Cruise without ever letting on she could have kicked that Ethan character’s ass.
She’d hung up her action-adventure gun belt and strapped on an apron. It didn’t quite fit—in fact it chafed like hell—but it had seemed like the right outfit for the job.
Now Grace let the rush come. It was better than chocolate. Better than a good sneeze. It was like the
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