match to him.
Tess had plenty of questions for Tom Paoletti, too, about Troubleshooters Incorporated.
“This team you’re building for this assignment in K-stan, is it a permanent grouping of personnel?” she asked. In other words, if she signed on now to work with Decker and Nash, would she be working with Decker and Nash forever and ever, amen?
“No,” Paoletti told her. “Each team will be created from the larger pool of personnel, depending on the needs of the assignment and the preferences of the individual team leader.”
Tess looked at Decker, one eyebrow raised. “And you honestly want me on your team for this assignment?”
Decker shifted in his seat. “Honestly?” he said. “No.”
She blinked at him, then laughed, turning to look questioningly at Tom Paoletti.
But Deck wasn’t done. “No one in this room wants to send a woman to Kazbekistan. But we need a comspesh, and our choice seems to be either you or no comspesh at all.”
Tess nodded, meeting his gaze again. “I appreciate your honesty. As a woman, I’m not particularly happy at the thought of going there. On the other hand, I
am
completely thrilled at the idea of participating in such an important assignment. If we can locate that laptop and gain access to al-Qaeda’s plans . . .” She looked at Paoletti again. “If you’re offering me this job, I accept.”
Nash suddenly spoke up. “What about Mike Giacomo?”
“Gigamike?” Decker laughed. Nash despised Gigamike Giacomo.
“Yeah,” Nash said. “Sure, he’s an idiot, but no more so than freaking David Malkoff. Gig’s a comspesh and he’s male.”
“I don’t want him on my team.” Deck put finality in his voice.
There was silence then. Paoletti had definitely picked up on the tension in the room. But he just sat back, watching.
“There are steps we can take to ensure Tess is as safe as possible,” Decker continued.
“Yeah, except at night, because as an unmarried woman, she can’t sleep in the same room with us.” Nash was done being silent. “Depending on where we’re staying, there’s a chance she might even be housed in a different building than we are—”
Tess cut Nash off. “So I’ll go in as a married woman. Who’ll know that I’m not?”
“That’ll work only if you pretend to be married to one of us,” Decker pointed out. He looked at Paoletti. “But that’s a good idea. If we can get Tess a new passport and papers on short notice . . .”
Paoletti nodded. “I’ll get whatever documents we need.”
“Then one of us can pretend to be her husband and be with her at all times,” Deck said.
“It can’t be Decker,” Nash said to Paoletti, to Tess. “Too many of our contacts in Kazabek think he’s got a K-stani wife back here in the States.”
That was true. In the past, Deck had worked hard to establish an identity, a cover, on his frequent trips to K-stan. He’d created Melisande, his fictional wife, and it had helped him gain acceptance and trust. To show up now with a different “wife” would be the equivalent of tattooing the words “I am an agent of the U.S. Government” on his forehead. Even now, three years after his last visit.
“And it can’t be Dave Malkoff,” Nash continued. “No one in their right mind would believe Tess would marry him. Our cover would be blown before we even got out of the airport.”
Tess cleared her throat and crossed her legs. “I don’t know Dave, so I’m not sure whether you’re insulting me or—”
“Him,” Nash said quickly. “I’m insulting him.”
“Dave
is
lacking in certain social skills,” Decker told her.
“He’s a freak,” Nash said bluntly, going for truth over tact. “And he looks and acts like a total geek.”
“So what?” she argued. “People fall in love and get married for all different reasons. Maybe he’s great in bed. In my experience, just because a guy isn’t
GQ
handsome doesn’t automatically mean he’s not great in bed. And vice
Tess had plenty of questions for Tom Paoletti, too, about Troubleshooters Incorporated.
“This team you’re building for this assignment in K-stan, is it a permanent grouping of personnel?” she asked. In other words, if she signed on now to work with Decker and Nash, would she be working with Decker and Nash forever and ever, amen?
“No,” Paoletti told her. “Each team will be created from the larger pool of personnel, depending on the needs of the assignment and the preferences of the individual team leader.”
Tess looked at Decker, one eyebrow raised. “And you honestly want me on your team for this assignment?”
Decker shifted in his seat. “Honestly?” he said. “No.”
She blinked at him, then laughed, turning to look questioningly at Tom Paoletti.
But Deck wasn’t done. “No one in this room wants to send a woman to Kazbekistan. But we need a comspesh, and our choice seems to be either you or no comspesh at all.”
Tess nodded, meeting his gaze again. “I appreciate your honesty. As a woman, I’m not particularly happy at the thought of going there. On the other hand, I
am
completely thrilled at the idea of participating in such an important assignment. If we can locate that laptop and gain access to al-Qaeda’s plans . . .” She looked at Paoletti again. “If you’re offering me this job, I accept.”
Nash suddenly spoke up. “What about Mike Giacomo?”
“Gigamike?” Decker laughed. Nash despised Gigamike Giacomo.
“Yeah,” Nash said. “Sure, he’s an idiot, but no more so than freaking David Malkoff. Gig’s a comspesh and he’s male.”
“I don’t want him on my team.” Deck put finality in his voice.
There was silence then. Paoletti had definitely picked up on the tension in the room. But he just sat back, watching.
“There are steps we can take to ensure Tess is as safe as possible,” Decker continued.
“Yeah, except at night, because as an unmarried woman, she can’t sleep in the same room with us.” Nash was done being silent. “Depending on where we’re staying, there’s a chance she might even be housed in a different building than we are—”
Tess cut Nash off. “So I’ll go in as a married woman. Who’ll know that I’m not?”
“That’ll work only if you pretend to be married to one of us,” Decker pointed out. He looked at Paoletti. “But that’s a good idea. If we can get Tess a new passport and papers on short notice . . .”
Paoletti nodded. “I’ll get whatever documents we need.”
“Then one of us can pretend to be her husband and be with her at all times,” Deck said.
“It can’t be Decker,” Nash said to Paoletti, to Tess. “Too many of our contacts in Kazabek think he’s got a K-stani wife back here in the States.”
That was true. In the past, Deck had worked hard to establish an identity, a cover, on his frequent trips to K-stan. He’d created Melisande, his fictional wife, and it had helped him gain acceptance and trust. To show up now with a different “wife” would be the equivalent of tattooing the words “I am an agent of the U.S. Government” on his forehead. Even now, three years after his last visit.
“And it can’t be Dave Malkoff,” Nash continued. “No one in their right mind would believe Tess would marry him. Our cover would be blown before we even got out of the airport.”
Tess cleared her throat and crossed her legs. “I don’t know Dave, so I’m not sure whether you’re insulting me or—”
“Him,” Nash said quickly. “I’m insulting him.”
“Dave
is
lacking in certain social skills,” Decker told her.
“He’s a freak,” Nash said bluntly, going for truth over tact. “And he looks and acts like a total geek.”
“So what?” she argued. “People fall in love and get married for all different reasons. Maybe he’s great in bed. In my experience, just because a guy isn’t
GQ
handsome doesn’t automatically mean he’s not great in bed. And vice
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