Page 15 of Steel Vengeance

There was a pause before he said, “I looked into your handler, Jeremy. Couldn’t find anything on him. Do you know where he’s staying?”

“The Marriott,” she replied. “That’s where we stayed the first night I arrived.”

“Unlikely he’s still there.”

“Why would he leave?”

“Too easy to track him down, especially since you saw him there. And it’s expensive. If he’s the Agency’s point man in Pakistan, he’ll have cheaper, less conspicuous accommodation somewhere else. The hotel was for your benefit.”

Okay, that made sense.

“Do you have a phone number for him?”

“No, just an email address.”

“And if there was an emergency, if you didn’t have WiFi or access to your laptop or phone, how would you contact him?”

She fell silent. She wouldn’t be able to. If she didn’t have access to email, she’d be screwed. He hadn’t given her a backup plan.

“Nothing’s going to happen to me,” she grumbled, though she felt shaken. Just a few minutes ago, she thought Omari’s men had broken in. “I’m just observing.”

“Your cover could get blown. You could be kidnapped or held for ransom. It’s not uncommon around here.” He lowered his voice. “A woman traveling alone is especially vulnerable.”

She suddenly felt like a lamb being led to slaughter.

Matthew.

She brightened. She could call him.

“I have my boss’s personal number,” she told him. “I could call him in D.C.”

Strict radio silence.

Matthew’s voice echoed in her mind. But surely, in an emergency...

“You have your boss’s direct number?”

She flushed.

“Well, he’s not just my boss. We’re... friends. He was a father at the school where I taught.”

Too much information. Stitch didn’t need to know that. He had no right to know. But something about his solid, imposing presence made her want to trust him. Hell, sheneededto trust him. She was alone out here.

“Did he recruit you?”

She nodded. “He overheard me speaking Urdu to another teacher and introduced himself. We became friends, and then he offered me a job.”

There was another long pause. He sat silently, studying her in the dim light. She knew what he was thinking, and it was true.

“He’s divorced, if you must know,” she said defensively.

He shrugged. “None of my business.”

That’s right. It wasn’t.

“How about you?” she asked, figuring it was time to turn the tables. She was tired of spilling her guts to him. This man had a way of getting information out of her without even trying. Either he was extremely good at his job, or she was terrible at hers. Probably the latter.

“What about me?”