Colombia—too easy, she suddenly realized. And the hole in the Bank of America vault where Amanda’s papers had been. It was almost as if…as if someone was saying we know about her and we’re closer than you think .
“Maria Hamilton,” Cole insisted. “How do you know about her?”
Jesse stared. His words, spoken in English, held no meaning.
“What do you mean I told Lanton what I would do to the person who sent our men to be slaughtered ? ” Cole continued.
“What?”
His face tightened. “You said, I told Lanton what I would do to the person who sent our men to be slaughtered .”
Jesse gave her head a hard shake. Cole spoke with a clarity which said he knew Lanton, knew about Senator Hamilton, knew about Maria. Jesse’s mind clicked over and she felt the freight train that had hit her when Lancelot fell make another run over her chest. She focused on Cole. He didn’t just happen to pass by the alley.
“How do you know anything about Lanton or Maria?” she said. Cole’s mouth opened, but Jesse hissed, “You son-of-a-bitch.” They’d fooled her. All this time, she’d been concentrating on the men in the alleyway and—“You’re one of them .”
For a second, he looked like she felt, then his expression cleared. “Listen,” he began, and stretched a hand toward her.
Jesse grabbed his wrist, twisting it in a hold intended to tear hand from arm. Cole followed the momentum of the move with startling fluidity. His body twirled beneath her arm like a practiced dancer, and he grasped her wrist, exerting a vice grip she’d come across only once in her life; Hwuang Kano, her instructor.
She did the only thing that could stop Hwuang; relaxed her body and dropped to the ground. Cole was forced to jump forward in order to maintain his hold. She’d gambled he wouldn’t be quick enough to break her wrist, and won. He surprised her by falling to his knees and releasing her wrist as he grabbed her waist. He swung a leg over and straddled her. Jesse slammed a fist into his jaw. The blow sent a wave of pain up her arm.
Cole grabbed her wrists and shoved them down at her sides. “Shut up and listen!”
Jesse jerked her knee up, hitting him square in the spine. His face contorted in pain. She yanked an arm free and swung back for another blow.
“Don’t make me hurt you, Jesse!”
She swung. Cole blocked with his forearm. Jesse felt like she’d hit steel and her funny bone at the same time. He grabbed her injured thigh and squeezed hard. Pain shot up her leg. She grabbed for his arm. Cole grasped her waist and flipped her onto her stomach. He had her arm behind her back before she could twitch. Her injured shoulder burned white hot. His muscled thighs clamped down on her ribs with an intensity that left her gasping for air.
“I’ll kill you!” she ground out between breaths.
His grip tightened. “You are hard headed,” he said in a raspy voice. “By now you should have figured out that won’t be as easy as you think.”
Jesse took a painful breath. “It doesn’t have to be easy.”
“I understand how you feel, Jesse—”
She attempted one mighty buck to dislodge him. He yanked her arm several inches away from her body. The slightest movement would snap the bone. She stilled.
Cole paused, his weight heavy on her. “I understand,” he said quietly.
“Bastard!” Jesse gritted. “You don’t know a god damn thing.”
“I do,” he replied quietly. “I was there.” He paused. “I led Operation Hangman . I’m Green Team Leader.”
Chapter Thirteen
The freight train made another pass over Jesse’s chest. She had seen the bodies. No survivors . The Professor had confirmed their deaths. How could she accept the man sitting across from her in the booth in a tiny upper Westchester diner as the only man who had survived the mission—the leader, no less? She did feel like she was having a heart attack or, at the very least, a stroke.
“Are you all right?” Cole asked, his
“Maria Hamilton,” Cole insisted. “How do you know about her?”
Jesse stared. His words, spoken in English, held no meaning.
“What do you mean I told Lanton what I would do to the person who sent our men to be slaughtered ? ” Cole continued.
“What?”
His face tightened. “You said, I told Lanton what I would do to the person who sent our men to be slaughtered .”
Jesse gave her head a hard shake. Cole spoke with a clarity which said he knew Lanton, knew about Senator Hamilton, knew about Maria. Jesse’s mind clicked over and she felt the freight train that had hit her when Lancelot fell make another run over her chest. She focused on Cole. He didn’t just happen to pass by the alley.
“How do you know anything about Lanton or Maria?” she said. Cole’s mouth opened, but Jesse hissed, “You son-of-a-bitch.” They’d fooled her. All this time, she’d been concentrating on the men in the alleyway and—“You’re one of them .”
For a second, he looked like she felt, then his expression cleared. “Listen,” he began, and stretched a hand toward her.
Jesse grabbed his wrist, twisting it in a hold intended to tear hand from arm. Cole followed the momentum of the move with startling fluidity. His body twirled beneath her arm like a practiced dancer, and he grasped her wrist, exerting a vice grip she’d come across only once in her life; Hwuang Kano, her instructor.
She did the only thing that could stop Hwuang; relaxed her body and dropped to the ground. Cole was forced to jump forward in order to maintain his hold. She’d gambled he wouldn’t be quick enough to break her wrist, and won. He surprised her by falling to his knees and releasing her wrist as he grabbed her waist. He swung a leg over and straddled her. Jesse slammed a fist into his jaw. The blow sent a wave of pain up her arm.
Cole grabbed her wrists and shoved them down at her sides. “Shut up and listen!”
Jesse jerked her knee up, hitting him square in the spine. His face contorted in pain. She yanked an arm free and swung back for another blow.
“Don’t make me hurt you, Jesse!”
She swung. Cole blocked with his forearm. Jesse felt like she’d hit steel and her funny bone at the same time. He grabbed her injured thigh and squeezed hard. Pain shot up her leg. She grabbed for his arm. Cole grasped her waist and flipped her onto her stomach. He had her arm behind her back before she could twitch. Her injured shoulder burned white hot. His muscled thighs clamped down on her ribs with an intensity that left her gasping for air.
“I’ll kill you!” she ground out between breaths.
His grip tightened. “You are hard headed,” he said in a raspy voice. “By now you should have figured out that won’t be as easy as you think.”
Jesse took a painful breath. “It doesn’t have to be easy.”
“I understand how you feel, Jesse—”
She attempted one mighty buck to dislodge him. He yanked her arm several inches away from her body. The slightest movement would snap the bone. She stilled.
Cole paused, his weight heavy on her. “I understand,” he said quietly.
“Bastard!” Jesse gritted. “You don’t know a god damn thing.”
“I do,” he replied quietly. “I was there.” He paused. “I led Operation Hangman . I’m Green Team Leader.”
Chapter Thirteen
The freight train made another pass over Jesse’s chest. She had seen the bodies. No survivors . The Professor had confirmed their deaths. How could she accept the man sitting across from her in the booth in a tiny upper Westchester diner as the only man who had survived the mission—the leader, no less? She did feel like she was having a heart attack or, at the very least, a stroke.
“Are you all right?” Cole asked, his
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