Page 70 of Steel Vengeance

They reached a marble lobby, with a single door. Stitch opened it, and they stepped into another world.

A long mahogany bar stretched along one side, with three stylish bartenders mixing cocktails behind it. In the corner, a pianist on a grand piano played smooth jazz that barely rose above the hum of conversation and bursts of laughter. The floors were covered with rich Persian rugs, leather sofas, and ornate cocktail tables. Soft lighting cast a warm, intimate glow over the room.

“Wow,” Sloane whispered, glancing around.

The bar was full, but no one paid any attention to them. The crowd was well-dressed and elegant. The air was thick with the smell of expensive cologne and perfume.

Blade had texted earlier to confirm their target was here—already on his second gin and tonic.

“There’s Vale.” Stitch nodded toward a red-haired man sitting alone at the far end of the bar, nursing his drink and reading a newspaper. A few seats down, Blade lounged with a beer in hand, casually texting on his phone.

Stitch glanced at Sloane. She looked beautiful and determined, putting on a brave face. His chest tightened.

“Ready?” he asked softly.

She gave a nervous nod. “As I’ll ever be.”

The plan was simple—she’d walk over and distract Vale. His phone was either in his jacket pocket or on the bar next to him. Blade would swipe the phone, download the data using the device, and put it back before Vale noticed.

Stitch was on standby in case anything went sideways. The weight of his Glock at his ankle was a welcome reminder. It wasn’t a foolproof plan, and a lot could go wrong. But it was worth a shot.

“Go ahead. Remember, I’ve got your back,” Stitch said.

She gave him a grateful smile before heading toward her handler.

CHAPTER 26

Sloane walked toward Jeremy, her heart pounding so hard she thought it might leap right out of her chest.

Breathe. You can do this.

She must be insane—confronting the very man who’d put a hit out on her. Her handler, of all people. But what other choice did she have? Blade and Stitch were counting on her, and if she didn’t do this, they’d never get the evidence they needed to bring these guys down. No matter how terrified she was inside, the plan was a good one.

If it worked.

As she got closer to Jeremy, she realized with a jolt of panic that his phone wasn’t on the bar counter like they’d expected. Her heart leapt into her throat. No phone meant no data, and without that, this entire operation could blow up in their faces. She shot a glance toward Blade, her pulse quickening. He remained calm, his eyes zeroing in on Jeremy’s jacket pocket.

It was in there.

She exhaled slowly, forcing her shoulders to relax. She had to keep it together. The last thing she needed was to let Jeremy see her sweat. If he even suspected something was off, he’d bolt, and everything they’d planned would fall apart. She had to be calm, confident, and completely in control.

Her breath caught for a second as she reached Jeremy. Every instinct screamed for her to turn around and walk away, but she couldn’t. She planted herself next to him and flashed a smile that she hoped looked more poised than she felt.

“Hello, Jeremy.”

He glanced up, eyes widening as he nearly knocked over his drink.

“Sloane! Jesus. What are you doing here?”

The look on his face was priceless. He’d gone pale, like he’d seen a ghost. Jeremy Vale, the smooth, unflappable CIA handler, was completely blindsided. Good.

“Surprised to see me?” she asked sweetly, raising an eyebrow. Her voice was laced with mock innocence, though she could barely hear herself over the pounding in her ears. She leaned casually on the bar, giving Blade the perfect opportunity to do his job.

Confusion, worry, doubt—all of it crossed his face in an instant. He fumbled for words, still trying to collect himself. “I—I thought you were in Peshawar. What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you.” She shook her head. “Boy, you’re a hard man to track down.”

Behind him, Blade slipped his hand into Jeremy’s jacket pocket. He pulled out the phone and got to work. Sloane was amazed at how smooth he was. Like a professional pickpocket. No one had noticed a thing.