LOGAN QUINN WATCHED the black van race down the narrow road. The men had taken the bait. Now...
He pulled out behind the van, making sure not to tail too closely. After all, he didn’t want to spook their prey.
He and Gunner were backup for Cale, so that meant they’d follow him...any place that he went.
“Is the tracking device working?” Logan asked as he slanted a fast glance toward Gunner.
Gunner had a laptop open in front of him. The beacon was flashing on the screen. “Working like a dream. You know Sydney would never send us any equipment that was less than perfect.”
No, she wouldn’t. Sydney would never risk the lives of any of the Shadow Agents.
Every EOD agent had a small chip implanted just beneath the skin, a precaution that Mercer had insisted on after a particularly brutal mission in which they’d lost an operative.
As long as that chip was in place, they’d be able to track Cale.
Tracking Cale meant tracking the Executioner.
Like Cale, Logan was more than ready to take the man down.
* * *
THEY WERE TOSSED into a dark room, a basement holding room that was about twelve feet long and ten feet wide. The gunmen locked them in with only a small lantern left for light.
Locked them inside and walked away.
Cassidy stood completely still in the weak light of the lantern. “I didn’t mean for you to get taken with me.” Guilt whispered through her words.
Her back was to him. Cale wanted her to face him. “But you did mean to get taken yourself.”
“Yes.”
Now they were locked up, their weapons had been taken and... “What do you think will happen next? Are you going to disarm the men who come back for us? Going to take them out and make them lead you to their boss?”
Actually, that was his plan, but Cale was curious as to what Cassidy had in mind.
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “I planned to trade my life for Genevieve’s.”
He laughed, then realized the woman was dead serious.
Bad plan, Cassidy. Bad.
He stalked toward her, anger making his muscles clench. “That’s not happening.”
She spun to fully face him. “I’m not letting her die. I have...value that the Executioner doesn’t realize. I can make this work.”
“Because you’re an asset?” An EOD asset. Just what intel did she possess? Others had tried to take down the EOD before—those who’d been clever enough to discover the division’s existence. Agents had been targeted, killed, but the EOD had still come out on top in the end.
No one had destroyed them.
Yet.
“Yes. I have value because I’m an asset.”
And she thought to betray the agents. Men and women who were his friends. “I won’t let you compromise the EOD.”
Her hands had fisted at her sides. “Maybe there are things that are more important than the EOD!”
His fingers curled around her arms, but he made sure not to touch her bandage. He didn’t want to hurt her. Shake her, maybe, for the risks that she seemed so willing to take, but not hurt the woman. “Do you have any idea how many agents are undercover right now? If you compromised their work, they’d die. Do you want that on you? All those deaths...on you?”