Renee Ryan - Dangerous Allies

He restrained himself.

Until he discovered if she was an ally or a shrewd double agent he would not relax his guard.

“Look, Kerensky.” He pushed to his feet. “Let’s rid ourselves of this ridiculous power struggle and get on with the business at hand.”

In response to his frankness, her composure slipped just a bit, but not enough to give Jack a sense of her real motives.

She was good. Very, very good.

With practiced grace, she stood and then paced through the small, stylishly furnished room. “If what you say is true and the British don’t trust me, then it must be because they know about my…my mistake.”

Her voice hitched. Part of her act? Probably. “What sort of mistake?” he asked.

Before responding, she roamed through a set of double doors with a liquid elegance that spoke of her stage training. Jack followed her, taking special note of how she gained immediate confidence once she had the physical barrier of an antique wooden table between them.

“It’s not what you think,” she said.

He willed himself to remain calm. In his line of work, losing his temper got a man killed faster than bullets. “It never is.”

“You don’t have to be snide. The information I gave MI6 was correct.” She dropped her gaze to the table, drew a path of circles with her fingernail. “At least, it was at the time I sent it.”

“Of course.”

She slapped her palms on the table and leaned forward. “Your attitude is not helping matters.”

“Nor is your penchant for withholding valuable pieces of information.”

Head held high, she marched around the table and stopped long enough to let out a soft sniff of disapproval before she continued past him.

Keeping the woman in his sight, Jack trailed after her as she went back into the adjoining room and turned to face him. Folding his arms across his chest, he leaned against the doorjamb.

Neither said a word, each silently assessing the other. Jack considered the tactical scenarios and possible outcomes. The only wrong questions were the ones he didn’t ask. “My patience is wearing thin. What mistake did you make, Katarina?”

Regardless of the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, she held his gaze. Brave woman.

“Karl Doenitz moved his headquarters this morning.”

Jack dragged a hand through his hair and resisted the urge to let loose the string of obscenities that came to mind. “How very inconvenient for us all. Except, of course, for the Nazis.”

“Now you’re being paranoid.”

“I was trained to be paranoid.” He drilled her with a hard glare. “And I’m very good at my job.”

She sighed. “I realize this sounds bad, but Karl Doenitz is still in Wilhelmshaven. He’s moved from Marinestation to Sengwarden.”

Jack caught the quick, guilty glance from under her lowered lashes. “Which means you don’t know where the plans are any longer.”

“I—”

“This trip to Hamburg has been a waste,” he said, more to himself than her. “For nothing more than countless hours of…games.”

“Oh, I promise you, this is no game. I know where the plans are. It’s just—” She broke off and looked away from him.

“It’s…just?” he prompted with what he considered heroic patience.

Apparently, he could control the work, the decisions, even the risks. He could not, however, control this…woman.

“The plans are locked in a newly built cabinet. My key will only open the old one.”

“That’s it?” Jack had to resist the urge to laugh in relief. “That was your mistake?”

He’d dealt with worse. Much worse. Missions were always more complicated than they first appeared on paper. Real life had intricacies that tended to create a powder keg of unexpected problems.

“Are you just going to stand there staring at me?” she demanded. “Didn’t you hear what I said?”

“I heard. You gave the British outdated information.”

“I gave them wrong information. I never get it wrong. Never.”

“Until now.”

She inclined her head slightly, her expression giving nothing away. “Until now.”

“So we make a new plan.”

He didn’t add that this was just the sort of tangle that had first led him into the heart of Germany two years before—the type of unexpected twist that ruled his every move. Disorder was so much a part of who he’d become, he’d long since accepted the realities of living without certainty. He didn’t especially like the ambiguity of never knowing the outcome of a mission or when the next twist would come, but he bore the pressure with steely grit.

He had no other choice.

“Make a new plan,” she repeated. “It’s that simple for you?”

“Nothing is ever simple.”

In fact, the possibilities were endless, but Jack was exceptionally skilled at finding the perfect solution inside the less perfect ones. “Tell me exactly where the plans are and I’ll come up with an idea. Or better yet, get me some paper and something to write with. I think better with a pen in my hand.”

She sank into a chair with an uncharacteristic lack of grace. “There is one more complication you should know about.”

Jack felt like he was free-falling without a parachute. His tight control over dangerous emotions was slipping, and that made him furious. Nothing shook him, and no one caught him by surprise. Even when the real Friedrich Reiter had come to kill him, Jack had kept his wits about him enough to prevail in the deadly clash. There’d been no time for prayer, no begging the Lord for assistance, just reflex.

And now…here…with this woman…he was in another situation where his control was being tested.

Enough. The feminine manipulation ended now. “Let’s have it,” he said, pure reflex guiding his words. “All of it.”

“As you wish.” Narrowing those glorious eyes of hers, she jumped up and planted a hand on her hip. “The admiral keeps the key to the cabinet on a ring he carries with him at all times, except when he sleeps. Whereby, he sets the key chain on the nightstand by his bed.”

The roll in Jack’s gut came fast and slick, surprising him. He didn’t take the time to analyze the emotion behind the sensation. “And you know this how?”

Taking three steps toward him, Kerensky pursed her lips and patted his cheek. “That’s my business, darling.”

He grabbed her wrist. “Not if it’s going to endanger my life.”

“Which it won’t.” She dropped a withering glare to his hand, waited until he released her. “Now, back to what I was saying. Since I alone know where the key is located, all I have to do is sneak into the room while Doenitz is asleep and—”

“No.” Whoever went in that building had to respond instantly if discovered. Jack was the trained killer. She was simply a mole who gathered information. He was the obvious person for the job. “I will break into the admiral’s private quarters.”

Her smile turned ruthless, deadly. The change in her put him instantly at ease. They were finally playing on his level.

He smiled back at her, his grin just as ruthless, just as deadly as hers.

She appeared unfazed.

“Here’s the situation, Herr Reiter, and do try to pay close attention. There are only two ways into Admiral Doenitz’s quarters. Through the front door or through a small window into his bedroom.”

The thrill of finding a solution had Jack rubbing his hands together. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

“The window leading into the admiral’s room is small.” She dropped her gaze down to his shoes and back up again. “Far too small for you.”

“Then I’ll go through the front door.”

She was shaking her head before he finished speaking. “To get through the front door you would have to pass through six separate stations, with two guards each. They rotate from post to post on twenty-minute intervals, none of which are synchronized. Translation, that’s a minimum of six men you would have to bypass at any given time.”