The End Game (A Brit in the FBI 3)

Savich glanced at Zachery. “We both feel this is the only way to keep you two out of jail. So, what do you think?”

Nicholas looked at Mike. Her eyes glittered, she looked ready to leap out of her chair and dance and hoot and holler, like she would burst with both astonishment and wild happiness. He felt his blood pumping fast and hot, and couldn’t help it—he stood up, grabbed her, and whirled her around.

He set her down and both of them turned and said in unison, “Yes!”

Nicholas shook Savich’s hand, then Zachery’s. “Thank you both. We like the sound of this new unit. We would like to do this.”

“Good,” Savich said. “Now, let’s go over how you’re going to structure this. And we need a name for you. What do you think, we could call you the Double Os?”

Mike said, “It has a ring to it, but unfortunately there’s quite a tradition of the Double Os getting killed in the line of duty.”

“More like replaced, at least in the movies,” Nicholas said. He looked thoughtful a moment, then a smile bloomed. “How about we call ourselves For Your Eyes Only.?

??

Mike knew this was good, it was exactly right. She stood straight and tall and said formally, “As of this moment, we’re your official covert eyes.”

• • •

When they broke ten minutes later, Mike hooked her arm through Nicholas’s and nearly danced him down the hall. “Let’s get a cup of coffee and talk about this.”

He stopped, an eyebrow raised. “What? You really want to talk? Well, it’s about time. Let’s go tell the lads and lasses first, though.”

Mike said, “I can’t wait to see who yells the loudest. Nicholas, can you imagine? We’ll have power over our own cases, and as a black ops line item? Do you have any idea what this means?”

He did. Autonomy, being in charge, no limits, exactly what he liked. He gave her a manic grin.

“Of course you do. Now, we’ll have to come up with a way to break ties, in case you and I disagree about how to go forward on an operation. I like rock, paper, scissors. Do you think that will cut it?”

He could imagine future arguments, knock-down, drag-out fights, but not which cases to take, but how they’d proceed, how close they could get to the edge without swan-diving over. The list would go on and on. He felt excited, content, and, he suspected, as happy as she was. He felt—giddy, Nigel’s word. Yes, that was it.

“I can’t wait for our first argument,” he said.

“You’ll lose,” she said immediately, then, “We have so much to do—you know, so many procedures to establish and set into motion, so many rules to see everyone follows—”

He burst into laughter. “I can see our very first argument right over the horizon.”

“That was a joke, lamebrain. Well, mostly.”

Their announcement to Ben, Gray, Louise, and Lia ended in a tie. Shouts all around, loud ones. While everyone was clapping one another on the shoulder, already arguing about who would have the better space, Nicholas called Adam, explained to him about the new unit, For Your Eyes Only, or Covert E for short.

Adam was silent for a long moment, then said, “Like if you tell me to hack into the CIA, it’ll be okay? I won’t go to jail again?”

“Not for even a minute.”

Adam whooped. “Sign me up!”

“Get on a plane. We’ll see you soon. I hope you won’t mind having a cubicle?”

Adam groaned.

Ten minutes later, all of them were walking down the stairs to the twenty-second floor to scope out their new digs when Nicholas’s mobile rang. He didn’t recognize the number, hardly a surprise these days. “Excuse me a moment. Drummond here.”

“Hello, Nicholas. I trust Michaela is nearby?”

“Yes,” he said, his heart thudding. He signaled to Mike, and pressed the speaker button.

A familiar voice said, “This is Kitsune. I need your help.”