Stephanie Doyle - Calculated Risk

Quinlan pushed her out the door then, her flip-flops tripping her up a bit. As soon as the door was closed behind her she flung her arms into the air.

“Holy shit! Did you see that? Did you see that? It just came. I mean I used to do puzzles all the time. My dad was always throwing that stuff at me. Since I was about three. But this, it was like I could just see it, you know. Like a goldfish in a clear bowl it was that obvious. And did you hear that guy…? What took the CIA so long,” she quoted. “That’s ’cause you waited three days to get me, that’s why.”

Quinlan stopped walking then and turned around. She couldn’t believe it. After everything that happened he almost looked bored. “Don’t you get it? I made you look pretty good back there. Mr. Army is going to say, ‘Boy, that Quinlan, he really had a great idea.’”

“Mr. Army?”

“You know. Stone face.”

Quinlan’s brow lifted in understanding. “Mr. Army is one of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.”

“Oh. Well, he was entirely ungrateful. He didn’t even say thank you or anything.”

“He doesn’t have to. That’s your job. That’s what we brought you here to do.”

“Yeah, but come on, twenty-three minutes…”

“You don’t get it, Bri. Yes, I’m glad you were able to break the code. I was glad that I had the idea to bring you in, but only because it worked. If you think I’m going to sit here and stroke your ego and applaud your success like you’re some kind of star athlete you’re wrong. This is the work. This is what we expect from you from here on out. Only next time, we’ll expect you to get the job done in twenty-two minutes.”

His words robbed her of her enthusiasm, but at the same time they instilled her with something else-purpose. She had a job. She had work that she needed to do from this point forward. It was pretty heady stuff.

To lighten the mood, she shrugged a shoulder. “Okay. No celebrating after a big score. I get it. Act like you’ve been there. That’s what the classy football players say.”

His mouth turned down a little. “This isn’t about celebration. It’s about understanding your role in this agency.”

“Q, relax,” she returned, walking up to him and then moving beyond him down the hall. Over her shoulder she told him, “I know my role. And I’m ready to do whatever is asked of me again. Only next time in twenty-two minutes.”

She saw him smile and she smiled back. Then as he caught up with her, he said something that truly stunned her.

“I knew you could do it. I knew it.”

It was the greatest applause she had ever received.

Present

Sabrina heard the sound of a car turning down the road and tightened the oversize overcoat around her. She reached her hands in the pocket and circled the butt of the Colt Defender. If all went well, she wouldn’t even have to pull it out of her pocket. Just lift the weapon even with Kahsan’s chest and fire.

If she missed-not likely-or Kahsan managed to survive the first shot-more likely-and returned fire, Quinlan would take the next shot. It was a simple plan. The one unknown factor was how many men Kahsan would be bringing with him. But regardless of how many there were, they were the secondary targets. Kahsan died first. It was what they decided. After that, it would simply be a matter of getting out of this alive.

The front of the car came into view. Sabrina saw black and surmised that it was a limo. It had difficulty with the rough terrain, but after successfully navigating a few ruts, it stopped some twenty feet away.

The temptation to look over her shoulder for one final check on Quinlan’s position was intense, but she ignored it and instead, kept her eye on the target. The driver’s door opened and a large man with dark eyes and dark hair stepped out of the car.

Not Kahsan. Not polished enough.

Then the back door opened and she saw someone struggling a bit to get out of the car. The first thing she spotted was a pair of long denim-covered legs, which flailed about until the feet finally found the ground and the person was standing.

It was a kid. No more than sixteen or seventeen. Tall, lanky, with large pimples that covered his face. At least the part of his face that wasn’t covered with a gray slab of duct tape. His arms were pinned behind his back.

Who in the hell…? Sabrina wondered, but there was no time for further thought when another man slid out of the car and stood directly behind the boy. It was clear that he was in control of the boy’s movements.

“Why, Ms. Masters…we finally meet.”

The voice behind the boy was smooth, cultured, with more than a hint of English accent. Exactly what she expected someone who had been educated at Oxford to sound like. She had no clear view of his face, the boy almost completely obstructed him. So he couldn’t have been that tall or that broad.

“Kahsan.”

But who was the damn kid? And why the hell did Kahsan think he needed a hostage? From Quinlan’s position, he was blind to what was happening right now, and more likely he was probably wondering why she hadn’t yet taken her shot.

“Who is your friend?” she called out. “And why do you have him trussed up like some kind of goose?”

Kahsan’s hand moved in front of the kid’s face and in a single motion he pulled the tape off his mouth. The boy shouted with pain, as he had no doubt been relieved of the few chin hairs he possessed.

“I believe you’re going to be excited to meet my new friend, Ms. Masters. He is, in fact, your greatest competition. Sabrina Masters meet Sal Ploxm.”

A sinking feeling started in her stomach until it hit her toes. “I think my pride is a little wounded,” she announced, even as she tried to formulate her next move. If he thought he had the location, plus someone who could hack the computer and break Arnold’s code, then she was clearly expendable.

The question now was why was she still standing?

“You have to understand it’s not that I don’t trust you… Well, actually it is.” He chuckled at his own joke. “Please toss away your gun.”

Her hand instinctively tightened around the weapon. She could lie about having one, but he wouldn’t buy it and the lie would hurt her credibility with him. She looked to each side of him to see if there was some kind of angle that she could use, but there was none. Any shot she fired at him, she risked taking out the kid instead. The kid who now had snot running down his nose that he couldn’t even wipe away with his sleeves.

This was the legendary Sal Ploxm? She had to say she was a little disappointed.

“Your gun, Sabrina.”

“You understand what I’m doing here is a show of faith. I have no quarrel with you, Kahsan. I only want my money.” Sabrina pulled the gun slowly from her pocket and tossed it on the ground a few feet in front of her.

“That’s excellent. Now, where is our friend Mr. Quinlan? You have to know how excited I am to be reunited with him.”

They had worked out a lie as a secondary plan to taking him out instantly, but already she knew it wasn’t going to play out. Every decision before his arrival had been based on the premise that he needed her. Only now he had options.

“I killed him,” she said, for the moment sticking with the script. “Once I had the location of Arnold’s computer I didn’t need him anymore. I figured it would be less hassle for you if I took him out.”

The kid was pushed a few steps forward and Kahsan’s face came into view over his shoulder. Dark eyes, latte-colored skin, cultured expression. Handsome actually. She wasn’t surprised. She’d always figured the devil had to look good, otherwise he wouldn’t be so tempting.