Page 3 of Avenging Jessie (Black Swan Division Thrillers #3)

Three

Jessie

The sky over Munich was a sullen bruise, thick with the promise of rain.

Gray clouds hung low, diffusing the late afternoon light and casting the city in cold hues of concrete and steel.

Jessie adjusted her scarf higher around her neck and scanned the park’s perimeter.

She didn’t like meeting in open places. Too many angles. Too many ways to get dead.

Spence sat on the bench beside her, legs crossed, phone in hand, playing his part perfectly. To anyone watching, they were just another couple killing time on a stroll.

But Jessie’s pulse thrummed with that familiar edge of readiness, her gaze ticking between the dog walkers, the joggers, the man with the newspaper who hadn’t turned a page in five minutes.

A woman in a trench coat approached, her stride purposeful but casual. She dropped onto the opposite end of the bench without a word and set down a paper bag.

“It’s the only thing I could get.” Her voice was soft as she typed on her phone as if responding to a text. “Topographic layout of the compound outside Gorlitz. Just remember, you didn’t get it from me.”

Jessie sat between them, digging in her backpack as she muttered, “We never met.”

The woman tucked her phone in a coat pocket. “Brewer’s got an ally in town. Jonas Keller. “

“Who the hell is that?” Jessie asked, frowning into her open bag.

The woman checked her watch. “Low-profile financier. Tied into gray-market contracts all over Europe. Berlin thinks he’s bankrolling Brewer’s projects. He’ll be at the Bundestag Initiative gala tomorrow night. His name’s on the donor list.”

Spence glanced up from his phone and yawned. Jet lag had them both in its claws. “Gala, huh? Will Brewer be there?”

The woman snorted and rose, making a show of tightening her trench coat belt. “He doesn’t show his face in public.” It was said with a duh tone in her voice. “Otherwise, we’d already have caught him.”

She vanished into the foot traffic. Jessie casually snatched up the paper bag and stuffed it into her backpack.

Back at the hotel, the air inside their connecting suites smelled like stale carpet and industrial cleaner, and the heat was too high, drying out her throat and temper. Jessie stripped off her jacket and tossed it onto the bed. She hadn’t unpacked. She didn’t plan to be here long.

Spence, leaning in the doorway that connected their rooms, had his laptop balanced on one forearm and his phone in his other hand. He watched her like a man studying the edges of a minefield. Yet, he still seemed unbothered. Totally confident. It made her want to throw something.

“I did a little digging.” He strolled across the carpet and dumped his gear on the white French provincial-style desk.

“That gala is at the Bayerische Staatsbibliothek—State Library, right in the heart of the city. Black-tie. Security’s tight, but not impossible to breach. Especially if we have an invitation.”

Jessie shook her head and dug the paper bag out of her backpack. Inside was a manila envelope. “Unless you’ve got a tux stashed in your fancy suitcase, I don’t see that happening.”

He grinned without looking up, his fingers flying over his keyboard. “Even better. We go as a couple. Pretend we’re donors. Maybe even get a dance or two in while we track Keller.”

She was about to grab the map from the envelope, but stopped. “Are you serious?”

“Deadly.”

“That’s your big plan? Posing as a power couple at a gala?”

He finally looked up. “It’s the easiest play. We blend in. Get close to Keller without raising red flags.”

She opened her mouth to argue—but he turned the laptop toward her. A grainy photo filled the screen. “This is our guy,” he said.

Keller, smiling in a gray tailored suit, was posing and shaking hands with a German telecom CEO. Her stomach fled south to her toes. “That’s not Jonas Keller.”

“What?” Spence double-checked the screen. “That’s what it says.” He read off the man’s bio listed in the article.

She might not have recognized the change in his hair or the plastic surgery he’d had done, but she knew those eyes. Hastings.

Jonas fucking Hastings.

The room tilted, and she dropped the envelope onto the bed. Her breath stuck in her lungs. Memories of failure, of betrayal, came rushing back.

Seeing her reaction, Spence straightened. “What’s wrong? Who is he?”

Jessie sat heavily on the edge of the blue and white striped comforter.

“He was my first handler, Jonas Hastings. He trained me. Used me. Then vanished. Langley suspected he was leaking intel. They gave me an off-the-books op to confirm it. My first mission was investigating my own handler as a traitor.”

Spence stilled. “What happened?”

So many years ago now. So much had happened. “Doesn’t matter.” She stiffened her spine. “I can take him down with Brewer.”

Spence shifted in the chair. “It does too matter. I need the details. This mission isn’t about him, and if he’s going to blow the op, I need to know.”

She wouldn’t let him. Her fingers fiddled with the manila envelope.

“I got close to him back then. He realized I was on to him, and that’s when he disappeared.

” A derisive laugh left her lips. “I blew my first official mission, so yeah, he knows me. If he sees me at the gala, we’re blown before we even get started. ”

Spence was quiet for a long moment, then shut the laptop. “He’s reinvented himself as Jonas Keller.”

She rubbed her eyes. “He’s changed his appearance, but that’s him. I’m sure of it. And apparently, he’s working with Brewer.” She let out a huff. “God, I never would’ve thought the two of them would team up, but the truth is, they’re a lot alike.”

Spence paced, rubbed his hands together. Glanced out the window. “If he’s allied with Brewer, the gala’s still our best shot at tagging him and figuring out where Brewer is.”

“No,” she said, pushing to her feet. “We’ll find another way.”

“Jess—”

“He’ll make me. Besides, I’m not going into that place pretending to be some giggling arm-candy while the man who nearly wrecked my career before it even started sips champagne.”

Spence kept his tone neutral. “He won’t even see you if we do this right. You want justice? This is how we get it. You’re just as skilled as anyone at changing your appearance.”

“No,” she snapped again. “Don’t you get it? I blew my assignment with him, and now he’s teamed up with my archenemy. I’m not going to blow this mission to bring down Harris Brewer by getting sidetracked by that asshole.”

He stepped closer. “You’re not twenty-three anymore.

Not a rookie. You can handle Hastings, and I’ll handle Brewer.

Think of it as a two-fer.” He shot her a grin.

“Commodations will land in both our files, and Meg, Declan, Tommy, and Tessa will be pissed that we brought in two traitors instead of one.”

While her insides turned, she locked down all expression. “I told you before, I work alone.”

“You survive alone. That’s different.”

That hit like a blow to her chest. She turned away. Her skin felt too tight. Her thoughts raced. She hated the idea of being seen. Of wearing a dress. Of letting him see her bare skin. Her scars.

Yes, most had healed and were barely visible now, but… “We’ll track Hastings once he leaves the gala at the end of the night. That way, we don’t have to risk having our covers blown and alerting Brewer we’re in town.”

Spence watched her, and when he spoke again, it was softer. “It’s not Hastings you’re afraid of. It’s being seen.”

Even her guts froze. Why wouldn’t he leave her the fuck alone? “You’re not my shrink.”

“Well, you need one, since you stopped going to Dr. Kumar six weeks ago. Not that he was doing you much good, but perhaps you should consider finding someone else. Someone who can help you with your body issues, as well as your emotional ones.”

“How dare you?” She flung out an arm and pointed at the door. “Get out.”

“Jessie, I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.” He took a step toward her, then stopped when she backed up. He raised placating hands. “I know you’re doing the best you can.”

Oh, my God. Seriously? That was even worse. And within those words was a question in Spence’s mind—why had Flynn cleared her for fieldwork?

Fuck. She had to prove to Spence that she could do this. She hadn’t wanted him for a partner, but now that he was here, a lot was riding on his opinion. On what he would report back to Flynn.

She sure as shit didn’t want him digging around in her head. She’d always admired how smart he was—street smart as well as tech savvy—but now, it was like nails being driven into her back.

She steeled her voice. “Everyone thinks I’m broken, but here’s the truth—what happened to me has made me stronger and more resilient.

I’m a better spy than any of you because of it.

So, I don’t need a partner, and I especially don’t need one who thinks I’m just doing my best. Why don’t you pack up your laptop and go back to Langley, where you belong? ”

His eyes went hard, and he strode toward her until he was towering over her.

“I’m exactly where I belong. With you. I’m on your side.

Always. But you can’t do this if you’re still bleeding inside.

You were never like this before, and I know the old you is still in there.

Yes, you went through something extremely traumatic, but you’re not the only one in this room who’s had people screw you over. ”

She was well aware of his background on the streets of London as a young boy.

About a mentor who had adopted him and two other boys and turned them into weapons.

How they had been groomed to help the Mastermind, an evil man who’d been part of a shadow government, and how Spence and his adopted brothers had been forced to take down the only father any of them had ever known.

It still didn’t give him the right to say these things to her. “Go to hell, Stirling.”

He gathered up his hardware and didn’t look at her as he walked out. The door clicked shut behind him.

She stood there alone, pulse hammering, fists clenched, eyes burning. The past wasn’t done with her yet.

And neither, apparently, was Spence.