That Time in Paris, Logan Ryles [room on the broom read aloud TXT] 📗

Wolfgang tapped the watch. “The Geiger counter went off in my watch when I searched Spider’s body. It shouldn’t have done that unless he’d been recently exposed to radiation. That’s when I realized there must already be a bomb. A dirty bomb made the most sense. Constructing an actual nuclear device would require resources and know-how that even a nuclear scientist like Spider couldn’t have obtained on his own. But a dirty bomb is just nuclear waste packed around an explosive. I figured Spider could’ve obtained the waste. So, then it was just a matter of where he put it.”

“How the hell did you guess the Eiffel Tower?”

“There was paint on his shoes. I’d read that the tower was being painted, and anyway, it made sense. Setting it off that high over the city would dramatically increase its effectiveness.”

“Damn . . .” Megan shook her head, and Wolfgang thought he saw genuine respect in her eyes. “That was quick thinking,” she said. “And quick driving.”

Wolfgang laughed. “Yeah, too bad we can’t take the Ferrari home. Hey, what about the Russians?”

“What about them?”

“Are they . . . alive?”

She nodded. “We ended up tasing the one outside. Your guy is gonna have one hell of a concussion, but he’ll survive.”

“I’m glad.”

“You’re glad?”

“He was never the enemy,” Wolfgang said. “He was just doing his job.”

Megan laughed. “Even so, I’d recommend you avoid dark alleys next time you’re in Moscow.”

“Hey, if it’s up to me, I’ll never be in Moscow.”

The car grew quiet as they approached the airport. Megan rubbed her lip with one finger, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. He didn’t say anything, but he knew what she was thinking, and he was dreading the conversation.

“I know Kevin left his post,” she said.

Wolfgang nodded. “Yep.”

Megan put both hands on the wheel and let out a breath. “There’s . . . there’s something you need to know about him. And me.”

Wolfgang faced the window. “You’re exes. I know.”

“Exes?” Megan’s voice turned shrill. “Gross! He’s my brother.”

“Your brother? What do you mean?”

“How many definitions does brother have?”

“You have different last names.”

“Well, okay. Half-brother. We share a mother.”

“Wait, so . . .”

Megan held up a hand. “Just listen, okay?”

Wolfgang sat back and waited for Megan to clear her head. She stroked hair out of her face, and he thought he saw a tear forming in the corner of her eye.

“Edric told you we lost a man on our last mission.”

Wolfgang nodded.

“His name was James. We worked together for a long time.” Her voice wavered a little, but she regained control. “Kevin and James were best friends. They used to hang out a lot outside of work. Hunting trips and football games…James was more like a brother. They were very close.”

Again, she paused, then swallowed, as if the next thing she had to say was going to be the hardest. “James and I were also . . . a thing. I mean, we were together. Dating, or whatever. Edric didn’t know, or at least he pretended not to know, because of course it was a bad idea. The thing is, we worked so well together, I guess he figured it didn’t matter if we were involved.”

Wolfgang knew where this was headed, and he felt like a miserable, disgusting jerk.

“Our last mission was in Damascus. Edric, Kevin, and James were in a two-story building collecting intel from a terrorist organization. Something went wrong. The terrorists found them there, in the building.”

Megan looked out her window, and for a long moment, she said nothing.

Wolfgang felt an overwhelming longing to grab her hand—to comfort her and speak to her, and have her stop the car so he could hold her. But he waited.

Megan wiped her eyes and nodded a couple times. “Kevin blames himself for what happened. He was closest to James and Edric when the gunfire started. A hand grenade went off and blew Edric out of a second-floor window. He broke his shoulder and humerus on impact, but Kevin was able to get to him before the fighters closed in. James never made it out.”

Megan nodded a couple times, as if she were accepting the reality of what had happened all over again. “It’s my fault. I should have been there. They left me behind because, you know, it’s Damascus. Women can’t just go places without being noticed. But maybe, if I’d been there…” She glanced at Wolfgang from the corner of her eye, as if remembering who she was talking to, then cleared her throat and sat up. “Anyway. I just thought you should know. I guess I was a little cold to you before. And Kevin came across a little ugly, I know. He’s protective of me, and he feels like you’re replacing James. He can’t accept that.”

Megan turned off the road and into the private airfield where the Gulfstream sat at the end of the runway, ready for takeoff. The others were already inside, and Wolfgang felt a strange comfort thinking about being around Edric and Lyle again. And Kevin.

“You won’t have to worry about him now, anyway.” Megan put the car in park. “Edric will fire him for leaving his post.”

Wolfgang reached for the door handle, then felt Megan’s hand on his. He flinched, lightning flooding his body, and when he turned, it surprised him to see her smiling.

She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “I like you, Wolfgang. You’re good at your job, and you’re fun to have around. But you should know . . . I’ll never become involved with somebody on my team again.”

The exhilaration that flooded him only moments before crashed down like a house of cards. A weight descended into his stomach, and he nodded dumbly. Megan ducked out of the car, and he hurried to follow, feeling awkward and foolish as he ascended the steps into the plane.

The door shut automatically behind him, and he followed Megan into the cabin where Edric and Kevin were. Lyle sat in the back, hidden behind a computer screen.

Edric jumped up and hurried across the aisle, smacking Wolfgang on the back with his good arm.