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Turning, she met his gaze and calmly repeated, “The States.”
“Well, there’s fifty of them. Some are a great deal farther away than others. Talk to me, Addy. Where are we going? And what are we doing? Or better, who are we killing?”
She couldn’t involve Sam any more than she already had. For one, her brother would have her hide. Clark did not like outsiders. He liked Sam even less, and he had every reason in the world to not want her anywhere near him.
“Sam, I don’t have time for this.” Besides, they had an audience, whether Sam said the guy was there or not.
“Then make time, sweetbabes. We’ve got at least ten hours of fuel. So, tell me now, where we going?”
Ten hours?“London.”
That got him. He leaned away and blew out a breath. “We’re not landing in London, but I know a couple places where we could probably touchdown in France and then take the ferry over.”
She didn’t question that. It wouldn’t be good for either one of them—burned agents—to walk through CCTV-laden immigration area, where they’d have to meet with customs and health officials. They’d likely spend the next few years in holding cells.
“You asked. “
“Oh, I did, and I’ll get you there. Don’t you worry about that.” As the plane leveled off, she stared out at the clouds. Should she call Clark now? Or did she wait?
Despite his orders to deal with Uranium and to close off that avenue, she knew the ultimate goal was as it had always been—Red Wolf. Over the last several months, she’d had to grow more and more distant from their team. Setting herself apart. Making herself accessible to being turned. She’d picked more than her fair share of fights and behaved in a manner she wasn’t terribly proud of.
“Set a course for St. John’s International in Newfoundland. We’ll refuel there, then on to Iceland. We’ll pick up another flight there to get us into France. From there, we’ll take a ferry over. We can be in Dover by tomorrow. Then the train to London. Where to, after that?”
The swiftness with which Sam adjusted his plans to accommodate her should have surprised her. Yet, hadn’t she been counting on that very ability when she sent the message? Hadn’t she bargained on the concept that Sam would never tell her no, despite the insanity of the plan she came up with? He was a master of making crazy plans work.
She studied Sunglasses in his bright floral Hawaiian shirt. He’d not acknowledged her presence or said a word since she’d come on board. If not for the rise and fall of his chest and the occasional shift of his hands on the controls, she’d have thought he was a mannequin. “We’ll discuss that later. I don’t suppose this flying bus has a shower on it, does it?”
“Sure does. Even has a bed.” He leered at her, half in jest and half—she suspected—quite serious.
“I just climbed out of another man’s bed this morning. I think you want me to take a shower before you take a crack at it.” With that, she released the seatbelt, stood, then walked away. Sam didn’t say a word, and she hadn’t looked at him when she said it. It was cruel, but effective for keeping him distant. Already, she was questioning her own decisions and choices, and she had been with him less than an hour. Her feet hurt, the bruises on her legs began to hurt, and she had a headache. Not to mention, she smelled like salt, sand, blood, and smoke.
But only half of her mission was complete. Uranium was down, and he would never get back up again. Even if she died on this quest, she’d removed the last of the internal threats from the Elite group. In that, at least, Titanium and the others were safe. Now, she just needed to bring Clark the last piece of the puzzle—give him the last snippet he needed to close the noose around Red Wolf’s neck, then they could snap the head off for good.
She didn’t worry about clothes as she made her way through the cabin. It boasted a comfortable sitting area and the private bedroom, as he’d promised. There was also a shower. Stripping off the dress, she dropped it on the floor to better inspect her injuries. Before securing the gun and setting it to the side, she switched on the water. The shower provided plenty of hot water, and there were complementary soaps already stored. She scrubbed herself raw, leaving her skin red and aching. She wanted to remove all traces of her trip. All traces of having whored herself out to accomplish her mission. She’d only been able to keep Uranium at arm’s length for so long before his interest began to wane, which meant she had to take that final step into the full honey trap.
Placing her hands on the walls, she closed her eyes and began to count. With each number, she let one element of her mission fall away.
Her code name was Arsenic, and she was deadly. She worked swiftly, efficiently, and to fatal purpose. Everything she had done was in the name of the mission, and everything she used—including her body—was simply a way to get it done.
None of that touched her. None of it touched Addison. Rinsing the soap from her hair, she opened her eyes and found Sam staring at her, his expression intent.
“Who’s flying the plane?”
The corner of his mouth kicked up a notch. “No one.”
That was comforting. “Have you forgotten the concept of privacy?” Turning her back on him, she ducked her head under the water again then began to condition her hair. After this trip, she was cutting it all off. Managing such a mass had become annoying.
“Came to make sure you’re okay.” The quiet comment sent an unwanted thrill along her spine. “And to make sure the bastard who had his hands on you is actually dead. If he’s not, I’m turning the plane around to finish the job.”
This time she couldn’t stop the smile. Fortunately, she still had her back to him, so he couldn’t see it. “He’s quite dead. Two bullets to the chest, and one to the head.”
“Damn.”
“Don’t be a caveman, Samuel. It doesn’t suit you.”
“Oh, it suits you just fine. I told you I don’t care who ends up touching you on any mission, as long as they’re dead when it’s over.” Harsh, cold, and serious. “If you say he’s dead, I’ll believe you.”
“Wonderful.” She turned, leaning her head back into the spray to rinse the conditioner out. “You can go now. I would much rather you be at the controls then standing there ogling me.”