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Alex grinned wolfishly. “Well, well, well. The civilian hits the mother lode.” He added more seriously, “Speaking of which, that was some nice shooting back there. You’re a hell of a markswoman.”

“For an amateur?” she added wryly.

“You saved my hide a couple times. That’s as much as I could ask of any pro.”

She sat back, shocked by the compliment. “Thanks,” she mumbled.

“We make a good team,” Alex commented off-handedly.

Whoa. She wasn’t anywhere close to being in his league and never would be when it came to being a spy. But it was the first time he’d ever acknowledged she wasn’t always a dead weight on his back. She liked being able to hold her own beside him...at least a little.

Silence fell between them as he got onto the New Jersey Turnpike and navigated the increasingly heavy traffic.

Eventually, she asked, “What are you going to do with that phone?”

“Strip it of all the information it’ll give us and form a plan based on what we find.”

“Should we ditch this vehicle?” she asked.

“If we didn’t kill all our attackers, it’ll take the survivors a while to report in. In the mean time, it’ll throw off whoever’s tracking this SUV on GPS when they see it moving. They’ll assume the mission was accomplished.”

“This car’s being tracked?” she squeaked. God, would they never escape the constant surveillance? She was beginning to think they were living in a high-tech police state. Oh, Lord. And now he had her thinking just like him about the United States government’s potential to be Big Brother.

He said casually, “I figure we’ve got another hour in this car before it’s burned. But we’ll be in New York City by then.”

“Then what?”

“I’m sick and tired of sitting back waiting for these assholes to come after us. It’s time for us to go on the offense.”

20

Katie was alarmed when they ditched the SUV in front of the FBI headquarters in New York City. But when Alex pointed out that no one would take special notice of its government plates, it made perfect sense.

Alex ducked into the first drug store they came across as they walked away from the FBI building. They bought hats, scarves and cheap raincoats that they pulled over their clothing. Appearances changed, they emerged back on the street.

She opened her mouth, but Alex held up a hand to forestall her. “I know,” he murmured. “Now what?”

She grinned up at him from under her Yankees baseball cap.

He answered his own question. “Now, a crowded, public place.”

“Central Park crowded, or subway at rush hour crowded?” she queried.

“Subway. Good idea.”

Stunned that he liked any idea she suggested, she followed him down the steps into a subway station. They caught a train headed northbound out of Lower Manhattan, and managed to snag a pair of seats. She kibitzed as he pulled out the stolen cellphone and took a brief look at it. Although, was it still stolen if its owner was dead?

Alex pulled out his own cell phone and initiated some sort of Internet search. “What are you doing?”

“Reverse phone book. Getting a name for the owner of this phone.” His phone dinged an incoming message. “Voila. The guy’s name was Brian Remolatto. Now. We do a quick search on him.”

“Why?”

“Looking for addresses and birthdates.”

“Because…”

“I need his numeric password for his phone.”