to have more freedom than me because of your…shortcuts.”
He watched as Llallana straightened her shoulders. Well, it wasn’t his fault—she attacked him first.
“My shortcuts save lives,” she told him.
“You’re dealing with gray people and breaking international laws,” he reminded her.
“I get my job done. Do you?”
Ouch. “I’m doing the best I can.”
“And yet, supposedly, you have all avenues at your disposal.” Llallana tilted her head. “Capture Dilaver. He’s in town. What’s so tough about that?”
“He’s KLA.”
“Oh yes, UN-sanctioned ‘good’ guys.” Llallana laughed. “You can get around that.”
“Break the laws I uphold?” Brad narrowed his eyes. “And what would that make me? There are consequences each time I compromise.”
“Oh yes, it might affect your way up the diplomatic chain of command,” she said, a cynical smile lifting the corners of her lips. “Who would want to stay here in this hellhole?”
Before he could reply, Amber interrupted. “Now, Lily, be fair. He’s helping as much as he can, especially now that he’s found out what we do,” she said, leaning forward to pour more wine into the glasses, her eyes catching Brad’s.
As always, he wondered about the two women’s relationship, both of whom seemed to contrast so in style and manner. One was calm and assessing and the other bothered the shit out of him. Yet, he’d caught them laughing in the kitchen before, giggling like females sometimes did when they were talking naughty stuff. Maybe he just hadn’t tried hard enough with Llallana. Hell, how could he be friendly with a woman who corrected him each time he called her Lily? He wasn’t a friend . Fine. He’d stopped after the first few times.
“That’s because you’re contracting with the CIA and he feels obligated.”
“Is that what you think?” Brad asked, curious. She wasn’t wrong, but she was also assuming that he approved of the CIA. Llallana shrugged, as if the answer were obvious. He had a feeling that there was more to this than surface accusations. “Tell me how they’ve hurt you, Llallana.”
Bingo. Something flared up in those beautiful eyes for a moment, then she dipped her head to study her fingernails. She gave him that sideways glance that always managed to hide her thoughts. “Getting melodramatic, aren’t we? Now, what is it about the girls you wanted to know again? Where are they? Out of this country. How are they? Better than before. Those too afraid to go home have enough money to survive for a while. Will they get better care?” She paused. “I don’t know. I hope so. Some of them are in bad shape, as you know.”
Her voice had lost some of its passion, as if she were trying to control her emotions by being businesslike. Brad didn’t miss the way her hands clenched and unclenched on her lap.
“When you”—he stopped to find another word for “smuggle”—“move them, don’t the authorities question some of those in bad condition? I’d be suspicious if a few girls boarded my plane with bruises and cuts.”
Some of them had more than bruises and cuts. And all of them were psychologically damaged.
“I try to give them some downtime, Brad. It isn’t easy preparing a girl that age for a journey away from everything she’s known. But then, she’s already suffered a fate that’s beyond anything girls her age should know. I try to prepare them. This is their chance to escape and they know this. There aren’t many choices, you know.”
“That’s why getting them before they’re destroyed by the kafena thugs was a good strategy,” Amber said, then added with a small smile, “and it was Brad’s idea.”
“That’s the information I can easily get without raising too many eyebrows.” After all, it was his job to trace the drugs and illegal human trafficking. “And I do know the risks you take to get them to a safe place, Llallana.”
He still couldn’t believe the woman sitting
He watched as Llallana straightened her shoulders. Well, it wasn’t his fault—she attacked him first.
“My shortcuts save lives,” she told him.
“You’re dealing with gray people and breaking international laws,” he reminded her.
“I get my job done. Do you?”
Ouch. “I’m doing the best I can.”
“And yet, supposedly, you have all avenues at your disposal.” Llallana tilted her head. “Capture Dilaver. He’s in town. What’s so tough about that?”
“He’s KLA.”
“Oh yes, UN-sanctioned ‘good’ guys.” Llallana laughed. “You can get around that.”
“Break the laws I uphold?” Brad narrowed his eyes. “And what would that make me? There are consequences each time I compromise.”
“Oh yes, it might affect your way up the diplomatic chain of command,” she said, a cynical smile lifting the corners of her lips. “Who would want to stay here in this hellhole?”
Before he could reply, Amber interrupted. “Now, Lily, be fair. He’s helping as much as he can, especially now that he’s found out what we do,” she said, leaning forward to pour more wine into the glasses, her eyes catching Brad’s.
As always, he wondered about the two women’s relationship, both of whom seemed to contrast so in style and manner. One was calm and assessing and the other bothered the shit out of him. Yet, he’d caught them laughing in the kitchen before, giggling like females sometimes did when they were talking naughty stuff. Maybe he just hadn’t tried hard enough with Llallana. Hell, how could he be friendly with a woman who corrected him each time he called her Lily? He wasn’t a friend . Fine. He’d stopped after the first few times.
“That’s because you’re contracting with the CIA and he feels obligated.”
“Is that what you think?” Brad asked, curious. She wasn’t wrong, but she was also assuming that he approved of the CIA. Llallana shrugged, as if the answer were obvious. He had a feeling that there was more to this than surface accusations. “Tell me how they’ve hurt you, Llallana.”
Bingo. Something flared up in those beautiful eyes for a moment, then she dipped her head to study her fingernails. She gave him that sideways glance that always managed to hide her thoughts. “Getting melodramatic, aren’t we? Now, what is it about the girls you wanted to know again? Where are they? Out of this country. How are they? Better than before. Those too afraid to go home have enough money to survive for a while. Will they get better care?” She paused. “I don’t know. I hope so. Some of them are in bad shape, as you know.”
Her voice had lost some of its passion, as if she were trying to control her emotions by being businesslike. Brad didn’t miss the way her hands clenched and unclenched on her lap.
“When you”—he stopped to find another word for “smuggle”—“move them, don’t the authorities question some of those in bad condition? I’d be suspicious if a few girls boarded my plane with bruises and cuts.”
Some of them had more than bruises and cuts. And all of them were psychologically damaged.
“I try to give them some downtime, Brad. It isn’t easy preparing a girl that age for a journey away from everything she’s known. But then, she’s already suffered a fate that’s beyond anything girls her age should know. I try to prepare them. This is their chance to escape and they know this. There aren’t many choices, you know.”
“That’s why getting them before they’re destroyed by the kafena thugs was a good strategy,” Amber said, then added with a small smile, “and it was Brad’s idea.”
“That’s the information I can easily get without raising too many eyebrows.” After all, it was his job to trace the drugs and illegal human trafficking. “And I do know the risks you take to get them to a safe place, Llallana.”
He still couldn’t believe the woman sitting
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