Chapter Thirty-One

Red

"Red, we're at your hotel. I'm going to set you down now. I'd appreciate it if I could keep my balls attached to my body." His voice was warm, and there was a mild chuckle with maybe a dash of concern in the timbre. "All right, Red?" He pronounced her name extra clearly. "We're agreed?"

What? Who? "Sure. Agreed."

He slid her slowly down his body, and that was quite the sensation. Truthfully?

Whew.

Yeah, there was the "he's a whole lot of man with a very fine body" kind of whew , and there was the "my head is spinning hard" kind of whew.

She was experiencing both at the same time.

Red staggered and collapsed against the guy.

Not wholly intentional.

Not entirely against her will.

There was a solid storefront that would have supported her just fine.

"Give it a second," he said. "You've been upside down for a couple of blocks."

"I'm sure you had your reasons." It came out sarcastic as hell. She thought that was fair.

His hands wrapped her upper arms, balancing her as Red pressed her forehead to his chest. She'd be more stable if she kicked off the shoes, but she could feel the crunch of broken glass under the thin soles of her high heels.

"Look, I speak Dutch, and it doesn't seem like you do."

"True."

"You didn't understand what those men were saying to you, what they were planning."

She lifted her chin to look him in the eye, but with the streetlight out, he'd chosen the darkest spot on a very dark night. "Also true." Nope, I'm not ready for that yet. Her head went back to his chest. His English was as American as apple pie, and he knew her code name. She would go with this until there was a reason not to. "So you saved me from—well, we both know." She took a step back. "I'd rather not discuss that." She licked her lips. "I am interested in the technique. What was that about?"

"When you're my size—"

"Unimaginable." He'd kept steadying hands on her arms; Red liked the warmth they radiated.

"Or when people learn that you're with special forces."

"Which?" Now that she was steadier on her feet, he handed her bag back to her. He hadn't mentioned his name. In her business, it was rude to ask. Still, he knew hers. So, things felt uneven. Red didn't like that he had the upper hand.

"Right now, I am working on a mission that aligns with yours."

"I see. So, it's not a SEAL. They'll tell you if you sneeze near them. Not a ranger, there's no—ah. Got you. You're a member of the silent profession, I'd bet."

"Finishing my thought, when someone my size goes out mellow-fellow in the wilds—"

"Men size you up."

He smiled. "Women, too."

"Same reason?"

"What reason are you sizing me up?" A chuckle and maybe a dash of flirtation.

True, most women would wonder what it would be like to take a guy with his obvious attributes for a roll in the hay. And yes, maybe the idea flashed through Red's mind as she stood outside her hotel. But no, she wouldn't admit it. "Let's assume that the person—male or female, or a designation of their choosing—is sizing you up. Does that lead to many fights?"

"I try to avoid it by being proactive and a little creative."

"Like tonight?" Red asked. "What did you tell them?"

"That you were my wife, and sometimes you get out past your bedtime." He shrugged to soften the misogyny. "Luckily, you didn't fight me."

"In that position? Is it possible?"

"No." It was said in a matter-of-fact tone because it was, indeed, a matter of fact.

"So the naughty wife, that's why they were laughing. But then they were following along."

"They were drunk enough and surprised enough that when I showed up and threw you over my back—"

"Like a sack of potatoes," she grumped.

"Really? Nah. Less lumpy, I think." He was laughing at her now. "More pliable and soft."

"Soft?" Her eyebrows went up to her hairline.

"Soft compared to a sack of potatoes, yes." He canted his head. "Is that really offensive?"

"What were they saying that they were following along."

"They started to think I wasn't your husband because neither of us wore a ring. Then they started to get mad because they found you first."

Red thought she might vomit.

Some of it had to do with the close call, some from hanging upside down, and some from not having anything to eat since breakfast. But yeah, she was pretty nauseated. She tried to keep that look off her face.

"Do you want to go in?" The giant pointed toward her hotel.

Red looked at the hotel door, then back to him, and licked her lips, unsure.

"You don't trust me?" He sounded genuinely wounded.

She'd been played once that day, and Red simply wasn't in the mood. "No. I don't."

"Yet, I saved you." He turned to lean a shoulder against the wall, forcing her to pivot toward him.

"You came along and changed the trajectory. Saved me?" She lifted a palm. "We'll never know about that."

"Fair point as far as tonight goes. What's wrong with your phone? They can't get in touch with you."

Well, he knew that much, and her name, and her hotel. And her arrival time. Had she been hacked? And what did he mean by ‘as far as tonight goes'? There was something that pulled Red to him. Something very familiar. But here, in the black of night, she couldn't look into his eyes and place him. "I ran out of juice."

Nomad pulled a power bank from his pocket and handed it to her.

"Thank you." She pulled one from her purse for the exchange. "The charger at my seat on the plane wasn't working. Maybe you'll have better luck."

He held up a no-thank-you hand, "I have another one."

She slid her charger back into her purse. "Two is one, and one is none?" She pulled out her phone and connected it to the bank.

"Just life experience."

"Okay."

"Maybe this will help," Nomad paused and waited until she was facing him, "‘In a box of crayons, Black is the most opaque color. The color I've been using lately is Grey. And Grey works well with Red. Don't you think?'"

"I'm not really the artistic type." She intoned this week's response dryly.

He finished with his line of the code. "I think you live a colorful life."

When a car moved up the street and the headlights shined on his face, Red squinted her eyes at him.

"If you're trying to place me, we've met a few times now." He grinned. "You don't recognize me?" He ran a hand over his cheek and chin.

She felt they knew each other, that he was a good guy, and she could trust him.

Trust but verify.

Brains could glitch. There could be something about him that reminded her of good people in her past. He was painted in that latent lethality of special forces who had been doing the job for a long enough that their cocky shine was burnished off. Then, it struck her. Yeah. He was the guy who left her zip-tied in the van.

"You?" she asked. "You're the Pied Piper."

"Okay." He laughed.

Yeah, that didn't come out the way she meant it to. Red tried again. "You shaved your beard and got a haircut since the car accident. It suits you."

What she didn't know was for whom he played and what were his circumstances now? Obviously, Color Code wanted them to work together, or he wouldn't have known this week's code.

"You look different from the first time I saw you, too." Pied Piper's voice hit a different note, warm and caring, maybe a little concerned. "How are you feeling now?"

Red blinked.

He put his hand on his chest. "I was part of the team that got you from your hotel in Lebanon to the Türkiye base. You seem to have made a near-miraculous recovery. You're back on your feet fast."

"Fast-ish, to be honest." It was him. Her whole system flooded with the same sensations she'd had when she lay in his lap, and he stroked his hand over her hair and whispered encouragement and kindness whenever she moved or opened her eyes. He'd held her tightly against him as he climbed onto a boat and kept her from getting slammed about as the boat rocketed out to sea. He was the one who clasped the spider straps over her as she was lifting into the sky.

The sudden loss of contact with his skin had unnerved her. It was like she was leaving a piece of herself behind.

And then there he'd been, crouching next to her in the heli, running an I.V., calling out orders, taking complete control of her safety and care. And she had been whole again just by his being there.

She suddenly wanted that back. The sensation of being cared for and, maybe more importantly, cared about.

A stranger, no less.

It had been such a gift.

But it also felt mean that she had experienced those sensations and then had them snatched away from her. She hadn't known that was missing from her life.

It was depressing to make that discovery.

Was she really getting misty-eyed here? She cleared her throat. "Sorry about your head wound. Are you okay?"

"Friendly fire. Actually, it was not so friendly. The cut came from the Fire of the Desert." The guy pressed a button to illuminate his watch face. "Elena's ring did that. You know what happens, especially when there's an intelligence breakdown. I didn't know we were playing for the same team, you and I. It seems we were also playing at cross purposes. I think our handlers have figured out a shared strategy."

"Okay, you had a code word for me. Tell me who you are and why someone sent you."

"Your phone died, so you didn't get the message. They need you to go back to the airport with me. Your old cover is blown. You can't use it anymore. We need to be there together for a brush pass to get you your new credentials. You'll have to do something with your look to change things up. The computers will be looking for you to do something dangerous. You don't want to be caught with fake documents."

"You don't need to go with me," Red said flatly.

"My message said they'll identify us by standing together. Besides, I have to get on the plane to Casablanca. Then, I'll head to Marrakesh to set up surveillance."

"You're doing that."

"Yes. We're presenting as a husband and wife on vacation. I thought I was following behind you and would catch up with you there. But you got outfoxed."

"I was indeed." Husband and wife cover?

He lifted a hand and flagged a cab. "Safer not to walk." The cab pulled over. "Okay, let's find out who you're going to be next."