attack. But why not call him, or send him a text? Why go there in person? He grimaced. There were only a few reasons, and none of them were good.
On top of being a potential murderer, the woman was a pain in the ass. She didn't want to be helped, didn't want to be rescued, and did everything in her power to piss him off. As soon as he tracked her sorry ass down, he was going to call Jennings and tell him he wanted no part of this assignment.
He'd been played. So played it wasn't even on the too-stupid-to-live radar.
You still haven't figured it all out, have you, Jacov? Petrovich's words echoed in his head, mocking any progress he might make.
He hailed a cab. Tracking her progress while they wove through the busy streets at nearly midnight was easy with the state-of-the-art device he'd installed. Unless, of course, she'd found it and attached it to a dog or something.
What about this Nick guy? Was he a former lover? A friend? A partner in her crimes?
Once again, he'd fallen into a trap. Tessa Graham, the woman who had fooled him into doing something utterly and completely stupid.
Trusting her.
CHAPTER SIX
Tessa's indecision and fear cost her a few precious moments. Not knowing her way around Manhattan cost her a few more. But her drive to be safe and with someone she trusted seemed to overshadow any misgivings she might have. Okay, she didn't totally trust Nick, and he was being a pain, wasn't answering his phone or responding to the text she'd sent him, but at least she knew him and recognized all his foibles. Even if she felt the tiniest bit guilty about leaving Jake in the lurch with a compromised security system.
Despite the traffic, the trip didn't take long. She readjusted the contents of her backpack along the way, searching for something she might be able to use in a pinch. Just in case. On hyper-alert, she felt a need to watch her back. Something she was always aware of, but she felt like when she wasn't on assignment that she wasn't as vigilant. Except now everything in her life had suddenly morphed into a twenty-four seven combat situation.
Over the last couple of days she'd learned to assume the worst and be proactive. She could only hope it wasn't a result of the PTSD the CIA shrink had warned her about. Nope. She shook her head. It was not her imagination that several men broke into her townhome with the express purpose of causing her harm. She also wasn't imagining things when Jake Shaw rode up on his white horse saying he'd rescue her.
Pfft. As if.
Gun. Check. Extra round of bullets. Check. C-4. Check. Her laptop with everything she'd saved from every assignment she'd been on, embedded and protected so that anyone putting in the wrong retrieval key would automatically destroy the material. Of course, she had it saved out in the cyberspace world as well, but retrieving that would be a shot in the dark by anyone other than her.
The part that didn't make sense was why the CIA would cover up and pretend Alex was dead. And why did the memory of Alex's words that prevented them from killing her in Afghanistan keep knocking around her brain? And what in the hell did it have to do with Russians? When she'd blurted that out to Jake, it was like someone else had taken over her speech function momentarily. It came out of some reptilian part of her brain she didn't recognize.
Before she had the time to ponder the matter any further, the cabbie stopped in front of Nick's building. After paying, she got out and approached the door. The lock on the downstairs entrance prevented admittance except by key or being buzzed in. She punched in his number and listened as the phone continued to ring until voicemail picked up. Undeterred, she held down the buzzer and tried to annoy him enough so that he'd have no choice but to respond. But that didn't work either. When ten minutes had elapsed without any response, sweat beaded on her upper lip, and her heartbeat raced.
She drew in a shaky breath and forced herself
On top of being a potential murderer, the woman was a pain in the ass. She didn't want to be helped, didn't want to be rescued, and did everything in her power to piss him off. As soon as he tracked her sorry ass down, he was going to call Jennings and tell him he wanted no part of this assignment.
He'd been played. So played it wasn't even on the too-stupid-to-live radar.
You still haven't figured it all out, have you, Jacov? Petrovich's words echoed in his head, mocking any progress he might make.
He hailed a cab. Tracking her progress while they wove through the busy streets at nearly midnight was easy with the state-of-the-art device he'd installed. Unless, of course, she'd found it and attached it to a dog or something.
What about this Nick guy? Was he a former lover? A friend? A partner in her crimes?
Once again, he'd fallen into a trap. Tessa Graham, the woman who had fooled him into doing something utterly and completely stupid.
Trusting her.
CHAPTER SIX
Tessa's indecision and fear cost her a few precious moments. Not knowing her way around Manhattan cost her a few more. But her drive to be safe and with someone she trusted seemed to overshadow any misgivings she might have. Okay, she didn't totally trust Nick, and he was being a pain, wasn't answering his phone or responding to the text she'd sent him, but at least she knew him and recognized all his foibles. Even if she felt the tiniest bit guilty about leaving Jake in the lurch with a compromised security system.
Despite the traffic, the trip didn't take long. She readjusted the contents of her backpack along the way, searching for something she might be able to use in a pinch. Just in case. On hyper-alert, she felt a need to watch her back. Something she was always aware of, but she felt like when she wasn't on assignment that she wasn't as vigilant. Except now everything in her life had suddenly morphed into a twenty-four seven combat situation.
Over the last couple of days she'd learned to assume the worst and be proactive. She could only hope it wasn't a result of the PTSD the CIA shrink had warned her about. Nope. She shook her head. It was not her imagination that several men broke into her townhome with the express purpose of causing her harm. She also wasn't imagining things when Jake Shaw rode up on his white horse saying he'd rescue her.
Pfft. As if.
Gun. Check. Extra round of bullets. Check. C-4. Check. Her laptop with everything she'd saved from every assignment she'd been on, embedded and protected so that anyone putting in the wrong retrieval key would automatically destroy the material. Of course, she had it saved out in the cyberspace world as well, but retrieving that would be a shot in the dark by anyone other than her.
The part that didn't make sense was why the CIA would cover up and pretend Alex was dead. And why did the memory of Alex's words that prevented them from killing her in Afghanistan keep knocking around her brain? And what in the hell did it have to do with Russians? When she'd blurted that out to Jake, it was like someone else had taken over her speech function momentarily. It came out of some reptilian part of her brain she didn't recognize.
Before she had the time to ponder the matter any further, the cabbie stopped in front of Nick's building. After paying, she got out and approached the door. The lock on the downstairs entrance prevented admittance except by key or being buzzed in. She punched in his number and listened as the phone continued to ring until voicemail picked up. Undeterred, she held down the buzzer and tried to annoy him enough so that he'd have no choice but to respond. But that didn't work either. When ten minutes had elapsed without any response, sweat beaded on her upper lip, and her heartbeat raced.
She drew in a shaky breath and forced herself
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