Read Online Breaking Point by Suzanne Brockmann - Free Book Online

or a sawed off shotgun. Although, a dismantled semiautomatic would fit, no problem. Along with a small arsenal of handguns.
    It would be interesting to see if the mighty and powerful Max Bhagat would be required to run his bag through the X-ray machines at the entrance to the airport gate, or if he’d simply get waved through.
    The rain got lighter but the traffic much heavier as they entered the airport loop. Jules followed the signs to the garage, and Max finally spoke.
    “Just drop me at departures.”
    It was the moment of truth.
    For most of the trip, Jules had purposely focused on learning about fuel made from soybeans to keep himself from obsessing over exactly how he was going to tell Max when the time came.
    “Don’t be mad,” he started, then inwardly rolled his eyes.
Don’t be mad?
Of course Max was going to be mad. The man was running on rage. Sure, he was keeping it locked inside, but Jules knew it was there. Because he was feeling it, too.
    There was a reason for all those clichéd movies where the FBI agent went on a vengeful rampage after a loved one was murdered. The same qualities that made both Max and Jules good candidates for a long-term career in law enforcement naturally made it hard for them to sit back and let someone else’s team find the terrorists responsible for Gina’s death.
    Jules cleared his throat and started over. “Sir, I know you’re not going to like this—”
    As they rolled past, Max gazed with undisguised longing at the ramp that led to the drop-off for people taking departing flights. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
    “No, sir,” Jules agreed. “You don’t. You do, however, need a friend.”
    Max snorted his disgust. “We’re not friends, Cassidy.”
    Jules pulled up to the garage’s automated machine, and he reached out through his window to punch the button and take a ticket as Max continued, “And if you really think I want your company—”
    “I think you want Gina,” Jules said quietly. “And I think everyone else in the world is going to fall way short.”
    Max wasn’t done. He gave Jules his most terrifyingly disdainful stare. “You must really want that promotion.”
    Ouch.
    “You know I do,” Jules answered, as the gate opened and he pulled through, leaning forward to peer through the still wet windshield, searching for the sign to long-term parking. There it was. Dead ahead. He kept his eyes on it, because Max’s scary face was known to make underlings crap their pants, and the overnight bag Jules kept in his car trunk contained only clean shirts and one neatly rolled pair of jeans.
    He could feel Max’s melt-solid-rock stare as he passed a sign saying “Lot Full,” and went up a ramp to the next level.
    “Although, you know, I think manhandling and shouting at Peggy Ryan already did the trick,” Jules told his boss. “Impressed the shit out of her, don’t you think? I’m in. Big time. This paying out of pocket for a last-minute airline ticket to Hamburg—this is just insurance. Because I figured, you know, that you probably wouldn’t want sexual favors.”
    Max made that almost-laughter sound again, but Jules couldn’t tell if that was a good or a bad sign. “I should fire you.”
    “You could go that way,” Jules agreed. “But you know, Peggy would probably walk out, too. In solidarity, because she just likes me
so
much. And I’m still going to Hamburg with you, fired or not, so really what good does it do you?”
    Jules found what might well have been the very last parking spot in the entire garage. It was about as far as possible from the walkway to the terminal. Still, as he pulled in he said a prayer of thanks to the patron saint of parking garages, along with his knighted brother—the hero who’d invented luggage with wheels.
    Max had gone back to being silent. But now he gave it one last try as Jules took the key out of the ignition. “We’re not friends.”
    Jules braced himself and met Max’s extremely evil eye.