Page 162 of Allegiance

Person.

Her mother did, but she’d died in that nursing home years ago after she’d gotten back from Columbia. Dementia took her early, and every day, she prayed it wouldn’t be her fate.

It was hard to watch it happen.

It was also hard to live with the cross on her shoulder because she hadn’t been taking care of her mother personally.

Don’t get her wrong.

She had the best care, the best nursing staff, and the best doctors. It cost a small fortune and had burned through her savings.

Millions of dollars.

Testing.

Stem Cells.

Anything she could get purchased in Germany to help her mother get better, and now she’d emptied her coffers.

Now, it was about retirement.

She was getting up there—in spook years. What she needed to do was make some money, get a nice little bungalow on a beach, and build straw baskets as her hobby.

Because why not weave baskets?

She was crazy enough.

With what was coming to New Orleans, she wanted to be able to make some money on it.

She was, after all, good at what she did.

When her phone rang, she took the call.

“Yes?” she asked, knowing who it was. “I’m already here, and I’ll be ready for the meeting. Get me the guns I’ve ordered, and I’ll have the money ready for you. If you cross me…”

The caller said something.

It made her laugh.

“I don’t give a shit about the FBI, or anyone they have on the ground. I care about doing what I need to do. I have a client. How about you don’t get us killed, and you deliver the goods?” she asked.

The man on the phone got it.

FINALLY.

This was no game.

This was a serious thing that had taken weeks to get into play, and she’d shit a brick if anyone screwed that up.

This asshole.

The Hunters.

The FBI.

While she could play nice, Artemis Dubois knew one thing.

Bad things were brewing, and if she didn’t get ahead of it, she was going to get caught up in it.