Soldier For Hire. Kimberly Meter Van
Rhodes, just for once could you pull that damn stick out of your ass? I get it, things are ugly and I’m staring down a good chance of being thrown in prison for a crime I didn’t commit—I get it—I sure as hell don’t need you shoving that fact down my throat just for shits and giggles.” Xander grabbed his coat and stalked from the room, slamming the door behind him.
Scarlett let him go. It was her job to hold the line, to be the cool head in a situation, even if that meant sacrificing her feelings and needs.
This was no different.
Yeah, sure, in a perfect world where there weren’t any consequences for sex with a subordinate she’d be riding that bad boy all day, but they didn’t live in a perfect world and the consequences were too severe to mess with for a few moments of pleasure.
Moments. Ha! Of course, she meant figuratively. Xander was no one-pump chump or minutes-only man.
A shiver tickled her skin. She rubbed at the goosebumps rioting along her forearm. Enough of that. Grabbing her burner phone, she texted Xander.
Bring food when you come back.
No sense in starving. They needed fuel to power their brains and bodies.
Maybe if she satisfied her physical hunger with a loaded cheeseburger, she’d mute the dull roar of desire that was a serious distraction for them both.
Maybe.
“The arrest warrant was issued two weeks ago. Why aren’t we going after this guy?”
FBI Special Agent Conrad Griggs knew this had been coming but he’d hoped for a little more time. He owed Scarlett but he didn’t know how much longer he could keep the heat off Scarlett’s team while they handled things on their end.
“Red Wolf asked if they could handle the situation internally. Out of professional courtesy, we agreed to let them have time to bring in Xander Scott on their own.”
Senior Director Paul Platt wasn’t known for his leniency or his compassion so his irritation wasn’t unexpected, but Conrad was surprised that Platt was even aware of this case.
“Terrorists don’t get professional courtesy. The man is guilty of killing a US senator and a handful of civilians. He gets no quarter from this agency or any other agency employed by the US government. Am I clear?”
Conrad shifted in his seat, uncomfortable. “As far as I know, Xander isn’t guilty until a court of law determines him to be.”
“Don’t play word games with me, Agent. This situation looks bad for everyone. There’s a lot of heat coming down and people higher up than me want this man’s head on a plate. McQuarry was a respected and well-loved senator. Someone’s feet are going to be held to the fire and right now, those feet belong to Scott.”
Reading between the lines, Conrad knew that meant it didn’t matter if Xander was innocent. He fit the bill for the crime and people wanted this to go away, neat and tidy.
“And if he’s being framed?”
“Who the hell would want to frame some nobody for a crime like this?” Platt asked, his tone incredulous. “Have you read Scott’s file? He’s a ticking time bomb. Honestly, I’m surprised it took him this long to snap.”
Conrad didn’t know Xander well but he trusted Scarlett and Scarlett never would’ve allowed a loose cannon on her team.
“Maybe that’s the point,” Conrad suggested with a shrug. “He looks good for the crime...maybe too good. Things usually don’t fall together that easily.”
“Easy? Have you lost your ever-loving mind? This case has been a goddamn nightmare from day one. An embarrassment to the United States government and cleaning up the mess falls to us, so stop dicking around and bring that man in.” Platt adjusted his girth, straining the limits of the leather belt encircling his hips and said, “No more talk about Scott being framed. We don’t need that kind of contamination on the investigation. Bring him in so we can prosecute. End of story. You hear me?”
Conrad nodded, but everything about how Platt was acting felt off. But Platt was his boss so he couldn’t risk losing his job over Scott. Maybe Scarlett was wrong and her man was guilty.
Hell, he knew it sucked to find out that someone you trusted was a bad apple—been there, done that—but sometimes it happened and you just had to roll with it.
Still, Conrad couldn’t help but mention, “You know Xander Scott is a highly decorated veteran, and he served multiple tours in Iraq and Afghanistan. Did you read that in his file?”
Platt flushed and his gaze turned shrewd. “Yeah, it’s a shame. Sometimes even the best of us screw up or snap.”
The words rang hollow. Conrad knew better than to keep poking at this particular spot but he was feeling reckless. He nodded, seeming to accept Platt’s answer, adding, “True enough. Just a pity, though, you know? He served our country with honor. Seems wrong to chase him down like a rabid dog.”
“Guilty men don’t run.”
“I guess you’re right.” Or men who know they’re being framed don’t stick around to negotiate. “I’ll make the necessary calls to put a team together.”
“Good. That’s what I want to hear.”
“However, I should remind you that Xander isn’t going to be easy to find. He’s good at disappearing, going off the grid. He doesn’t use a bank so he’s traveling with cash.”
“No one truly goes off grid in this day and age. He’ll leave behind bread crumbs and you’ll find them.”
Conrad would have to call Scarlett and let her know he was out of options.
“And keep me in the loop.”
That last part surprised Conrad. Platt rarely took this much interest in cases like this. Arrest warrants didn’t usually trip his meter. “Sir?” Conrad questioned with a frown. “How deep would you like to be in this case?”
“All the way,” Platt answered, moving to the door. “We all answer to someone, Griggs. That includes me.”
Platt let himself out of Conrad’s office, leaving behind a wealth of questions. Something felt off.
He picked up the phone and called Scarlett’s office but got voice mail. He tried her cell with similar results.
Conrad left a quick but vague message for Scarlett to call him back and then he grabbed his coat. He needed to satisfy the questions in his own head before he sent a team off to bring in Xander.
Listening to his gut had saved his life more times than he could count.
Right now, his gut was saying dig deeper.
So that’s what he was going to do.
Scarlett realized her phone was dead and plugged her charger in. She never let her phone get so low that it completely died but then Xander had thrown off her game.
She wasn’t in a habit of breaking rules but here she was, sharing a roach motel with a federal fugitive. Funny how things changed in a blink of an eye.
Grabbing the burner phone from her bag, she called Zak to check in.
Zak answered on the second ring. “It’s about time. I was starting to freak out. Did you find Xander?”
“Yeah, he caught a plane to Tulsa. I snagged the same flight. Tell CJ he owes you a beer.”
CJ had been sure that Xander wouldn’t fly, that he’d grab a rental or better yet, an old sedan from a used car lot. But Zak had agreed with Scarlett that Xander would take the most direct route, given the time crunch.