King and Maxwell (Sean King & Michelle Maxwell 6)

“And I really, really thank you,” she said back jokingly until she noticed his still-serious expression.

“Is it Dana?”

“I saw her. She gripped my hand.”

“Sean, that’s great. Right?”

“Yes, it is. Really great.”

“And yet you look so down.”

“I ran into the general again.”

“Did he take another swing at you? I hope this time you kicked his ass and—”

He put a hand to her mouth to stop her.

“Nobody kicked anybody’s ass. No punches were thrown.”

“So what happened?”

“He’s agreed to help us.”

Michelle looked dumbstruck. “Well, that’s great too. So, why don’t you look happy?”

“Because it might cost him his career.”

“But it’s his choice.”

“I actually might have shamed him into doing it. And there’s something else.”

“What?”

“The Pentagon. They can come down on us like a ton of bricks.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve ticked off the high and mighty, Sean.”

“This time might be different.”

“What do you want to do then? Cut and run?”

He started to walk toward the building. “Not a chance. Just wanted full disclosure in case you wanted to call it a day.”

She fell into step beside him. “You really think I’d just walk and leave you solo on this?”

“No. I didn’t.”

“Then why the little lecture?”

“Maybe it was for my benefit. To show that when it all goes to hell I had thought it through.”

The rooms here were accessed directly from the outside. They walked up a set of rusty steps to a balcony that ran around the front and sides of the second floor. They turned to the left, and then turned right as it wrapped around the outside of the motor court’s upper floor.

“Number fourteen is right down here,” said Michelle.

They reached a wooden door that was badly in need of fresh paint.

Sean knocked.