“Really? Who is he?” From the looks of the driver now exiting the Honda, she would’ve pegged the guy as a scientist, or maybe comic book store owner. Classic geek. Not exactly the type to hang around in their circles. “How do you know him?”
“He’s a spy, like us.”
“Seriously?” M scrunched her nose. “Looks like a stiff wind could take him down.”
“Don’t believe everything you see. He’s a black belt in jujitsu.” Loki cracked his knuckles. “His hands are listed as lethal weapons.”
M gave their mole a second look. Nope. Still didn’t see it. The most lethal thing about that guy would appear to be his fashion sense. That had to be about the ugliest polyester shirt she’d ever seen in her life. Olive green and shades of brown striped with red-orange. Ugh. She shuddered with distaste before checking the Glock secured in a holster around her upper thigh. “Whatever. I’m going in.”
“Wait.” Loki grabbed her arm to stop her. “Be careful. I’m telling you, that guy’s bad news. I worked with him on a couple of missions when I was a SEAL. He had access to all kinds of classified intel about the military. If he’s the one selling my client’s secrets, we are in deep shit.”
“Yep. Because that means he hired both of us to do the same thing, pitting us against each other. Except we’re too smart for him. He didn’t bargain on us teaming up. Oh, and in case you were wondering ‘in deep shit’ is my favorite place to be.” She winked and sauntered out, leaving a grumbling Loki in her wake. Whoever the hell this guy was, she’d handle it. She’d met way tougher-looking characters during her time in this job. They’d all tried to take her down, but no one had succeeded. Not yet anyway. If she was going down, it would be because of someone far better prepared, and far better dressed, than this douchebag.
From the corner of her eye she saw a shadow dart from the side of the building and knew that Loki was taking up his position in the rear. Good man. Now there was a guy she wouldn’t mind getting taken down by, or up, or any direction for that matter. But at present they had more important things to contend with. Like her mole, who had just stepped up onto the sidewalk and was headed for the cell phone store down the way where they’d planned to meet.
M slowly made her way down there too, stopping periodically to peer inside the stores to allow Loki to get into position. By the time she stood shoulder to shoulder with polyester man, her palms were damp and her pulse was racing with adrenaline. Jobs always did that to her. The thrill of the chase.
“You got my information?” she asked, staring straight ahead at a poster for a new smart phone.
“You got my money?” polyester man countered, staring at the same poster.
The sound of a gun cocking took them both by surprise.
“I don’t know what the hell you’re up to, Schmidt, but you need to step the fuck over here around the side of the building so we can discuss this properly.” Loki’s deep voice was laced with anger. “Move it. Now.”
M hazarded a glance at him then and saw his stony expression. This wasn’t part of her original plan, but the guy had a loaded weapon pointed directly at the base of her mole’s skull. Now wasn’t the best time to argue about it.
They walked slowly to the other end of the strip mall complex and around the corner into the shadows. As soon as they were out of sight, Loki had the smaller man pressed back against the brick wall, a forearm at his throat, threatening to block his airway at the slightest provocation. “Tell me why the fuck you’re here and why the fuck you’re selling info on my client. And don’t even think about lying to me. I’ll know and you won’t like the consequences.”
The smaller man—Schmidt, Loki had called him—clawed at the arm barring his escape and whispered, “I’ll tell you whatever you want, but let me breathe.”
Loki exhaled slowly, then eased up the pressure on the other man’s trachea a bit. M felt the knot of tension between her own shoulder blades ease as well. “Spill it.”
“You think this is all about your arms-selling client, but you’re wrong, man.” Schmidt coughed. “So wrong. These data leaks reach well beyond just weapons now. They’re targeting the military, stealing battle plans and coordinates.”
“Fuck.” Loki inhaled sharply and M narrowed her gaze, putting the pieces together. If the government’s leaks extended that far, then countless soldiers’ lives were in danger. They needed to find whoever was doing this and end them. Now. Before innocent lives were lost.
“Who are you working for?” Loki growled, hoisting the smaller guy up by the front of his ugly shirt again.
Schmidt gave them both an unpleasant little smile. “Same as you, I suppose. An interested third party who wants to keep the status quo intact and stop the leaks.”
“Why did you answer my ad on Craigslist?” M scowled. “Was it to track us here?”
“It flagged on my radar. Figured it wouldn’t hurt to see what you guys knew.” Schmidt shrugged as best he could, dangling off the ground like he was. “Have to admit, I’m glad to see you on the job, Low. You were the best in a scrape.”
Tired of this bullshit, Loki got to the point. “Who’s the mole, Schmidt?”
The smaller man snorted. “You’ll never guess.”
“And we won’t have to, since you’re going to tell us.” M pulled out a small, curved shucking knife from the pocket of her jacket and held it up to Schmidt’s cheek, the razor-sharp blade glinting in the pale light. “Who is it?”
“Todd Martin.”
Loki frowned. “The pop star?”
“See? Told you you’d never guess.” Schmidt chuckled. “Nobody ever suspects that guy.”
“I don’t believe you.” M brought the knife closer to Schmidt’s cheek and snarled. “Why the fuck would some jackass teeny-bopper singer be involved in selling government secrets?”