Chapter 9

"Your head's in the clouds."

I glanced up from zipping up my backpack and looked over to Smith waiting for me by the door.

"Huh?"

"No, correction, your head's full of beautiful brunette."

He wasn't wrong but still, I wasn't tracking his point.

Thankfully he continued before I had to ask.

"I've been talking to you. You've been nodding but you're not hearing me."

Fuck.

I had yet to manage to get Nebraska's long, bare legs out of my mind. Or more to the point the way she was clenching and rubbing her thighs together when I entered her room. Add in her soft moans and my dick hadn't fully recovered from the incident. Not even her getting stubborn and throwing an abundance of attitude at me about losing control of her mission had put me off. If anything, watching her dig her heels in only turned me on more.

Fortunately or unfortunately depending on how I looked at it, she decided to dress herself. The fortunate part was she'd put her pants back on. Not that I particularly wanted that, but with Smith coming into the room I wasn't all that happy she was standing in her underwear facing off with me. And it was underwear. No way in fuck could I call the abomination of undergarments panties. The unfortunate part was, I didn't get to help her. Though that was arguably for the best, seeing as my hands were itching to touch those long legs.

I ignored Smith's observation and asked, "Did Kira find where Maddon's staying?"

"So…we're not discussing what I walked in on?"

"Nothing to talk about," I returned as I hitched my pack over my shoulder.

With a shake of his head and a grin that clearly said he wasn't buying my bullshit he opened the door.

"The St. Regis. And before you ask, he booked it in his name."

"He wants her to know he's here."

My statement was met with my teammate's agreement, "Yup."

Fucking hell.

It was time to talk with Nebraska.

"Anna?" Smith quietly asked before he exited the room, holding the door open for me.

One word, not that I needed more to understand what he was asking.

"We wait."

Smith's sharp shake of his head spoke to his disagreement.

"Is it smart to start, whatever it is you're starting on a lie?"

I could pretend I wasn't following his logic but Smith had already let my subject change slide; he wouldn't allow it a second time.

"Probably not, but the mission has to come first."

As soon as the sentence left my mouth it felt wrong. So wrong, my gut clenched and my feet stopped moving.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Smith rightly noted my unease. "Don't sit on it too long, Easton. Or there might come a time when she won't be able to forgive you keeping something as important as this from her."

I knew he was right. But telling her too soon could be just as bad.

Before I could respond—not that I had much of anything to say about Nebraska's mother being alive besides Charlie being a spinless asshole for not telling her himself—Smith turned his head and looked down the hall.

With a lift of his chin he greeted, "Good timing."

"Ready?"

I watched Smith crack a smile and shake his head, clearly not taking offense to her snappy tone. He also moved out of the doorway so I could move out into the hallway.

The only question Nebraska asked on our way down to the lobby was if we needed to call a taxi or if we had a rental. Once Smith told her we had a car, she looked away and kept her expression neutral as we made our way to the car park beside the Ritz. She only mumbled thank you when I held open the door for her as she slipped into the backseat. She didn't speak again until we crossed over the 6th of October Bridge to the West Bank of the Nile and entered Giza.

"Has Maddon checked into the St. Regis yet?"

Her question had me turning in the passenger seat to stare back at her.

We hadn't told her where Maddon was staying.

"What makes you think he's at the St. Regis?"

With an uncharacteristic roll of her eyes that communicated she thought I was an idiot, she went on to use words to convey her sentiment.

"If Maddon is in Cairo he always stays at the St. Regis. He's here and he wants me to know he's here, so he won't deviate. If he wanted to fly under the radar he'd stay at Zuberi Shamel's compound in New Cairo City just outside of District 5."

"Why do you think he wants you to know he's here?"

Another look that left her thoughts on my intelligence or lack thereof clear on her face—though this time, she kept her eyes firm on me when she answered, "He flew here using his real passport."

"Is that the only reason?"

"Isn't that enough?"

"It is but there's another reason."

Nebraska's eyes narrowed and she reluctantly shared, "If Maddon was staying at Zuberi's compound, Zuberi would've called. He hasn't. And I know Maddon. I know he wants me to know he's here and keeping an eye on me. He thinks he has the upper hand."

"Doesn't he?"

Nebraska shrugged her slim shoulders.

"For now he does," she conceded.

"You don't seem concerned."

"I'm not."

I was mentally debating whether or not I found her nonchalance commendable or foolish when Smith broke in. "It's not smart to underestimate your opponent."

"It's equally unsmart to assume," she pointed out. "I am well aware of what Maddon is capable of. Likewise I have a healthy dose of respect for his competence, especially when it comes to playing the long game. I'm not concerned because I know who I'm playing the game with. I know him. His mistake was teaching and shaping me into the player I am, then underestimating the skills he gave me. I learned by watching but also I've sharpened those talents. Unfortunately for him he wasn't paying attention until it was too late. I know my father thinks Maddon's in the dark, but I know he knows I've caught on to his game. Insisting I approach Zane was a distraction. I played the hand he forced me to play. Now I'm playing the game he wants me to play. With that he has the upper hand. But while he's busy running me around, he won't see the blade at his throat until I deem it's time to end him."

The woman was serious. She was going to slice Maddon's throat.

Again I was working out my thoughts on her planning to murder Maddon when Smith continued, "Why would Zane be a distraction?"

"That's not my story to tell."

I glanced at Smith.

Like me, his jaw was clenched. I knew my friend well enough to know we were having similar thoughts. Despite what Charlie had said, it sure sounded like Nebraska knew her mother was alive.

"Whose story is it?" I asked.

"Not mine."

Dead end unless I wanted to bring up Anna.

"Why did my father visit you?"

"Badger called him—"

"Let me guess," she interrupted. "Maddon called Badger to tell him I'd turned."

Well fuck me.

"How'd you know?"

"I told you, I know Maddon. Under different circumstances that would've been a smart play. Tell the man who has a bevy of mercenaries at his command that your mediator had turned and could no longer be trusted. Badger would have no choice but to send someone to take me out. Saw that play coming. Badger and Dutch are aware of what's going on. My father's already taken precautions should he or I get taken out. Badger has all he needs to continue."

"He mentioned that. He also handed the intel over to Zane."

Nebraska visibly stiffened.

"Is there a problem with that?" I pushed.

"Not for me there's not."

"Care to explain that?"

"Not my story."

I figured that was going to be her answer.

So I was shocked to shit when she went on, "Zane's Maddon's backup plan."

"How so?" Smith inquired before I could.

Nebraska shifted in her seat but remained quiet. Her silence lasted long enough I righted myself in my seat and was scanning the apartment buildings that lined the street when Nebraska finally answered.

"Maddon's banking on the truth ruining Zane."

Apprehension unfurled in my gut.

Before I could press what the fuck she meant by that her phone rang and she announced, "My father."

I glanced at Smith. His jaw had yet to loosen. When he felt my stare he turned his head, gave me a ‘what the fuck' look before his eyes went back to the road.

Then I listened to a one-sided conversation that was nothing more than Nebraska responding with "yes" or "no." Until the end when she proclaimed, "I'll call you after I sit down with Amani. However, I'd just like to point out, you're speaking to me like I'm twelve. But more than that you're treating me like I don't know what I'm doing when I've more than proven I do. Another point, father; if you didn't trust my judgment you could've told me to come home after I met with Zane. You knew what would happen. You knew he'd have his people dig. But they didn't need to dig, did they? You just played into Maddon's hand and handed everything over. Now not only do I have to hope Amani believes me and doesn't turn this around as a sign of disloyalty to Maddon, which will make me look untrustworthy, but I also have to worry about Zane Lewis going all Viper on me. Charlie, out of all the players Zane scares me the most and not because I'm at the mercy of two of his men. You know, when he has his talk with Dutch and Dutch comes clean, it'll be me that pays the price. Not only that, we've put Zane in a tight spot and I'm positive that's not a spot he'll be happy to be in. Which means he's going to lash out. At me. At us. At Dutch. We don't need this. We need to be a united front until Maddon's stopped. Now, that will be impossible."

Throughout Nebraska's soliloquy there was no inflection, no anger present, no attitude. She spoke in a calm, even tone despite her words conveying just how pissed she was.

Interesting.

The woman had tossed attitude at me for far less.

There was a pause on her end before she finished with, "I hope that's the case, father."

I waited a few beats before I craned my neck and looked back.

"Wanna explain that?"

"No," she whispered.

I took in her hunched shoulders and grim look and decided I didn't like how she'd folded into herself.

"Zane sent us here to protect you," I reminded her.

Nebraska's blue eyes lifted to mine and I nearly flinched at the defeat I saw.

"Okay."

"He won't hurt you."

"Okay."

"He won't," I pressed.

"You don't know what I know," she softly murmured and looked away.

And she didn't know what I knew, at least that's what we'd be told.

So many secrets.

Secrets that had the potential to ruin lives.

Or worse, kill.

I turned back to the front leaving Nebraska to her thoughts.

Later.

I'd get all of her secrets later.

Then I'd tell her mine and hope like hell when she learned her mother was alive she didn't kill the messenger.

Fucking Charlie Michaels.