The Pentagon Paradox

Chapter Fifteen

SCARLET

"The bodyguard won't get you anywhere," Matheo comments, pulling down the picture of the guard I pinned to the board. I roll my eyes. "A bodyguard won't do you good; you're a man, Theo," I reply.

We've come to agree that getting kidnapped at the bar was the only way this mission could be achieved, but we're kind of struggling with agreeing on who will kidnap me. "It doesn't matter if you're a woman or not."

"How do you think I got to the Senator?" I continue, and he only rolls his eyes back.

"The Senate building is one of the least guarded office buildings in the government; of course, it was easy to get to him," he scoffs.

"Yeah, but I don't need to be a woman to be a good killer."

"But you need to be a woman to be a maid."

"Are you still living in the 1950s?" I narrow my eyes at him as he sits down on my sofa. "Russia hasn't changed since the Soviet Union," he answers with a sigh.

"Just say you want to see me in a maid outfit; that would be a lot easier." I lean back on my desk, removing the picture of the other guard from the board.

"I don't, but Ivan certainly would." His eyes land on the board where the picture of Ivan is pinned.

I glance at the Ivan he's talking about; he's blond, tall, and his eyes are a light color I can't distinguish from the black and white headshot that mainly shows his face. What I do notice, though, is the scar going all the way from his jaw to above his eyebrow. Ouch, that must've hurt.

"You'll need to order the outfit so we can figure out where to hide the weapons," he says, leaning back and trying to rest his head on the channel back of my couch, but he accidentally bangs his head on the wall instead.

You reap what you sow, super agent pain in my ass.

"You have a special order," I smirk. We have to figure it out, huh? "No, thank you," he replies nonchalantly. Does he think I'm asking if he wants me to get him something with me?

"You got me wrong. What I said was, you go get your special order," he frowns at me, then his eyes widen in understanding. Yes, Matheo, go get the damn maid fit.

"Can't Greyson get it?" He sits up on the couch, then decides to lean back and cross his arms. I don't like the way he sits, like he owns my office.

"Grey would rather die than order me a maid outfit," I chuckle, imagining Grey's reaction to me asking him to order anything that remotely had something to do with seducing a man, gagging. And when the grumpy, serious boss gags, we hysterically laugh.

"Greyson works for the government; what it says goes." He rests his head back on the wall and closes his eyes. I grab my phone and text Grey to come for 'urgent' matters.

"Well, you tell him that; I ain't telling no man to order me a maid costume." I open the door when I hear Grey's stomping footsteps getting louder.

"Why do I keep seeing you two more than once today?" He gives us the babysitter look. "Go on, tell him what you want," I urge Matheo to speak.

"Ah yes, this woman right here requires a maid outfit." Once the words fumble out of Matheo's mouth, Grey's eyes shoot to me in a horrified look. I just shrug.

"Excuse me?" Grey frowns, the look on his face getting more horrid by the second.

"She needs–" Matheo starts again, but Grey interrupts him quickly: "I heard you the first time!" His eyes turned back to me then, looking me up and down in disgust. "You need what?" he asks.