Game of Dust and Ashes (Book Two in the Covert Operations series)

Eight

"I'll be here," I said.

Lia walked out of the room, shutting the door gently but firmly behind her. Suddenly the room seemed a lot smaller with only me in it. I got up and started pacing, replaying the attack in my head. Where I'd been standing, where each blow had fallen on my body, and where I'd managed to deal blows in return.

I crossed over to the broken coffee table, to where the glass had shattered across the floor. Now that I was looking at it without having my ass handed to me, I saw something that I hadn't seen before. There, amongst the rubble of my attack, was a folded piece of paper.

It was tightly packed, no larger than an inch on any side and as I unfolded it I realized that it wasn't a piece of paper but rather a Post-It note. One side was blank but on the other was a short sentence in a very neat scrawl.

JFK –Aer Lingus: 9:15 pm.

Lia was still on the phone. I could hear her talking in the hallway. My laptop was still where I'd left it on the table, somehow untouched throughout the fight, so I crossed to it and began typing in the flight information. It was well past a quarter-after-nine now which meant that this had to be for tomorrow. My assailant hadn't even entered my apartment until eight-thirty. Not nearly enough time for someone to get to the airport and through security to their flight which meant only one thing.

This was for tomorrow.

There was not a doubt in my mind that this had been left intentionally for me to find. That this was how they wanted to get in touch with me and have a conversation. Out in the open where neither of us could harm each other without creating a scene. This was a set-up for a discussion. Not an attack.

Lia and Max would be against me going in alone. I knew that but I also knew that whoever we were dealing with happened to be several steps ahead of us and that if I came bearing an entourage then they would simply disappear onto their flight without speaking to me. And maybe it made me stupid but I wanted to hear what they had to say.

After all, what if it was Daniel that showed up?

*~*

The Roosevelt Hotel, Manhattan, New York. January 27, 2021. 10:23 p.m.

"You're not going alone." Max was firm. His jaw set, voice dark. I knew he was trying to protect me but this whole thing was getting ridiculous.

We were in the new hotel a few blocks away from our old residence. Max had gotten a large two-bedroom suite because he didn't like me being in a room alone. Normally I would have argued but I was still nursing my wounds and not quite so proud to say that may need the backup if I was caught off guard again.

"Yes. I am."

"It's a set-up."

"I don't think so."

He ran a hand through his sandy-brown hair and glared at me in exasperation. "We should never have brought you into this. You're blinded by the fact that Daniel is back. You're not thinking clearly."

I lurched to my feet. "No, you're the one who's not thinking clearly, Max. They haven't wanted to talk until now. They're been perfectly happy running around robbing people. But now they're escalating and now they want to talk. I'm going."

"Not without backup."

Max turned his eyes on Lia, begging for backup. She looked between him and I, not wanting to choose sides but knowing she would need to. We'd been bickering for the better part of an hour. I was exhausted, sore, and had a killer headache. All I wanted was to go to sleep and deal with this shit in the morning but if I left it until then Max would just try to come up with another way to leave me out of it.