Page 155 of Storm Warning

“Might be.”

“Nope. I have plans with you, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” He gave her a slow smile. “Those plans.”

She smiled. The only plan they had was for her and Andre to go on dates. Lots of dates. They had many dates to make up since they had wasted so much time getting together.

Foster rolled his eyes. “You can wait a few hours while we find out what we need to know.”

“No,” Brent said. “My people are wiped out. They deserve a chance to rest before they’re back on duty. You have one hour to get the answers you want, and not one minute more.”

When the agent protested vehemently, the boss grabbed his phone and made a call. A moment later, he said, “I’m calling in one of the dozens of favors you owe me.” He explained the situation. “I believe one hour is reasonable, sir.” A pause, then, “Yes, sir. We brought him back to the States. He needs a little medical attention for a couple of knife wounds.” Brent listened again, then held out his phone to Foster. “It’s for you.”

The agent looked at the phone with suspicion, but placed it to his ear and said, “Hello. This is Special Agent Rob Foster, FBI. Who is this?” The agent’s face went pale as he straightened. “Yes, sir.” A pause, then, “Yes, sir. I understand.” After a beat, he handed the phone back to Brent.

Foster turned back to Andre and Riley. “Where can we talk?”

“Fortress has a private waiting area in the building behind us,” Andre said. “We can talk there. Might be best to take Garcia to your vehicle so he’s not out in the public eye.”

Foster motioned to two of his colleagues. “Take him to the SUV. O’Leary and I will interview Marsh and Sloan.”

“Yes, sir.” The two younger agents took Garcia from the Montgomery brothers and carried him to their vehicle.

“This way,” Andre said. He clasped Riley’s hand and led the two agents to the Fortress waiting area, which was behind a door secured with a biometric scanner. “Have a seat. Want anything to drink?”

Foster and O’Leary looked surprised. “What are you having?” O’Leary asked.

Andre looked amused. “Water. Did you think I was going for alcohol?”

Both agents’ cheeks turned pink. Foster cleared his throat. “Water is great. Thanks.”

Riley went to the company refrigerator, grabbed four bottles of water, and handed two of them to the agents, then joined Andre on one sofa. After she drained half of the liquid, she said, “What do you want to know?”

For the next hour, the FBI agents peppered Riley and Andre with questions about their time in Mexico and their interaction with Garcia. “Are you sure Garcia didn’t mention the possibility that infected people had already crossed the border into the United States?”

“No, he didn’t,” Riley said. “In fact, the people designated to be infected were talking about how they were scheduled to receive a shot in the next hour. No one mentioned another group already receiving the shot.”

Andre gave a small nod. “None of the scientists, Garcia, or Mendoza mentioned earlier border crossers.”

“We’ll have to confirm that with Garcia.”

That was fine as far as she and Andre were concerned. Once Garcia left their custody, he was no longer their problem. “Do it.”

Foster and O’Leary stood. “Thanks for staying to talk to us.” O’Leary’s voice conveyed his reluctance to be polite.

Andre opened the door. “Safe travels.”

Foster paused. “How long will Garcia be unconscious?”

“About three more hours, but everybody metabolizes medications differently. Don’t take your eyes off him for a minute. He’s a good liar and actor.”

The men smirked as they turned to go. “We’ve got it from here. You just take care of yourselves.”

After they left, Andre glanced at Riley. “Does their response fill you with confidence?”

“Those boys don’t have a clue how dangerous Garcia is. I’m afraid this isn’t the last we’ll see of him or his people.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO