Page 3 of Crossover
But this was a big ask for Seth—to help stop a CIA operation. Speaking of which…why hadn’t they killed her on the spot? Why take her like this? Daniel hadn’t said anything about that.
“I shouldn’t intervene with a mission.” Seth’s tone wavered slightly, though, and I noted the wordshouldn’trather thanwon’t.
“I’m not asking you to intervene. I just need help to gather information.”
“Which you’ll use to try to intervene.”
“Please, Seth. You have to trust me. She’s innocent and…imagine if this was someone you cared about.”
Seth sighed, a heavy, drawn-out sound that hinted at an internal struggle.
“I’ll keep your involvement off the record,” I assured. “I swear to God I will never tell anyone you gave me any information, and if my reputation has any pull left after this, I’ll write a letter of recommendation for you.”
Before this Ivy situation, I was one of the most respected CIA agents in the organization. I had no idea how this would all end—if the CIA would brand me a traitor or if the truth would come to light and I would be branded a hero—but if my reputation wasn’t destroyed, I would happily go out on a limb to help Seth get the promotion that meant so much to him.
The guy deserved it; he was the best IT guy I’d ever worked with, hands down.
“I’m chasing them right now. I just need to ensure my chase stays on course. That’s it.”
As the van pulled three more spaces ahead, despair dragged me down with each labored breath.
“What exactly are you asking?”
My eyes burned with tears of hope. “Hack into nearby surveillance cameras. Help me track the van to its destination.”
Another pause that threatened everything.
“They probably won’t take her somewhere far.” Transporting suspects long distances increased the odds for complications, so chances were, she’d be right here, in Chicago somewhere.
Another huge sigh on the other end of the phone. I could almost picture him running a hand through his blond hair, that massive, tattooed arm flexing with the stress of it.
“If this comes back on me…” Seth’s voice trailed off—and there it was again, something in it that wasn’t there when I met with him last.
I wanted to ask him what it was, what had changed, but I didn’t dare rock this boat, and frankly, I didn’t have the time.
“I’ll owe you, Seth. Big time.”
Silence stretched between us, broken only by the sputtering of my dying engine.
“I’ll do what I can to help you track it,” he allowed. “But I need you to keep this between us. If my suspicions are right, we could be stepping into something bigger than we realize.”
What didthatmean?
What suspicions? I didn’t have time to ask, though, not with the van’s taillights becoming almost indiscernible in the darkness ahead.
As if I needed a sign this situation wasn’t dark enough, a blast of lightning rocked out of a thick cloud, followed by a deafening boom that rattled the windows.
“Thank you, Seth. I won’t forget this.”
But as my car finally sputtered to a stop, the night swallowed the van, leaving me with a pit in my stomach.
What if I’m already too late?
2
IVY
The van lurched through the night, each bump and jostle a sickening reminder of my fate, as the sharp scent of bleach mingled with my fear. Which, by the way, was creepy as F. There was only one reason I could think one would need bleach in here…