dry, tired eyes as she leaned against the wall to wait for the car. Damn, she could fall asleep standing up. She pushed herself away from the wall. "When do you leave for Fayoum?"
"You're not coming."
The doors jerked open, and she stepped in, leaving him to follow. "I didn't say 'we,' did I? I heard you the first dozen times. Give it a rest, okay? I got the message."
He hit the floor button. Eleven, she noted absently as the car started ascending in rumbling fits and starts that didn't fill her with confidence. Great. Blow her big chance, then die in a plunging elevator in a rat-infested hotel. Just perfect. She'd go down in T-FLAC history as the biggest loser to ever walk through their doors.
Gabriel would have to change his name in self-defense.
"Some people need to be told more than once."
AJ heard her back teeth grind together as she said tightly, "Well, I'm not one of them." He could talk until he turned as old as he looked. Whoever got to Fayoum first could take out Raazaq. She'd be there first. She'd make sure of it. When he dropped her off at the airport she'd split. He wouldn't have to know she'd disobeyed orders until after the hit was done.
It was a risk, disobeying a direct order. But on the other hand, when she'd taken out Raazaq and done her job, the powers that be at T-FLAC would see she'd used her own initiative and be pleased.
The elevator was slower than molasses in winter and jerked and hesitated every few feet as if it were too tired to make the trip. Standing side by side, they faced the doors. AJ shot him a surreptitious glance under her lashes. His normal closed look was made even more obscure by the makeup.
What was he thinking? Nothing good, judging by the set of his jaw.
A couple of years ago Kane had been imprisoned for two months on an op. His report had, frustratingly, been sealed. Just the bare facts were on record. Six men had gone into Libya. Five men killed in action. Kane imprisoned for two months. Kane returned home.
End of story.
Maybe bringing that back to him, getting him to relate to what had just happened to her, would soften him up a bit. Remind him that once upon a time, he'd been vulnerable, too.
"I guess I was lucky." AJ shuffled back to lean against the wall as they rose in fits and starts. "Thank God they didn't get around to torturing me. You showed up in the nick of time."
"It wouldn't've been pleasant," Kane said laconically, not bothering to look at her.
Right. "Not pleasant" was one way to put it. She shivered just thinking about the shrieks and screams of agony she'd listened to in there. Of course, she wasn't being tortured now, either, but it was damn unpleasant, just the same. "You were held captive in Libya, right?"
"Yeah."
Okay. That didn't open up a dialogue, either. The man was as uncommunicative as a clam. He'd been tortured for months in that hellhole in Al Jawf. During her second month at the Academy, she'd pored over what there was in the report. Reading between the lines, and empathizing, sick to her stomach at man's inhumanity to man. How had he withstood what they'd done to him? How had he survived?
How had he ended up in that prison? Had it been his mistake or a mistake by one of the others on his team?
"I'm sorry, it must've been hell," she said softly to his back. A massive understatement, she knew. Damn it. She was a fairly intelligent woman. Knew how to conduct a lively conversation most of the time. But with Kane Wright she felt ridiculously inept and tongue-tied. It didn't help that he was pissed. Or that he was being stubbornly unresponsive to her olive branch.
AJ curled her fingers into her palms. She desperately wanted to reach him on some level. Wanted him to be pleased with her, with her performance as an operative. She wanted, needed, his validation. Frustrated, she dug her short nails into her soft palms until she concentrated on that pain instead of the pain of disappointment crushing her chest.
She shouldn't need his
"You're not coming."
The doors jerked open, and she stepped in, leaving him to follow. "I didn't say 'we,' did I? I heard you the first dozen times. Give it a rest, okay? I got the message."
He hit the floor button. Eleven, she noted absently as the car started ascending in rumbling fits and starts that didn't fill her with confidence. Great. Blow her big chance, then die in a plunging elevator in a rat-infested hotel. Just perfect. She'd go down in T-FLAC history as the biggest loser to ever walk through their doors.
Gabriel would have to change his name in self-defense.
"Some people need to be told more than once."
AJ heard her back teeth grind together as she said tightly, "Well, I'm not one of them." He could talk until he turned as old as he looked. Whoever got to Fayoum first could take out Raazaq. She'd be there first. She'd make sure of it. When he dropped her off at the airport she'd split. He wouldn't have to know she'd disobeyed orders until after the hit was done.
It was a risk, disobeying a direct order. But on the other hand, when she'd taken out Raazaq and done her job, the powers that be at T-FLAC would see she'd used her own initiative and be pleased.
The elevator was slower than molasses in winter and jerked and hesitated every few feet as if it were too tired to make the trip. Standing side by side, they faced the doors. AJ shot him a surreptitious glance under her lashes. His normal closed look was made even more obscure by the makeup.
What was he thinking? Nothing good, judging by the set of his jaw.
A couple of years ago Kane had been imprisoned for two months on an op. His report had, frustratingly, been sealed. Just the bare facts were on record. Six men had gone into Libya. Five men killed in action. Kane imprisoned for two months. Kane returned home.
End of story.
Maybe bringing that back to him, getting him to relate to what had just happened to her, would soften him up a bit. Remind him that once upon a time, he'd been vulnerable, too.
"I guess I was lucky." AJ shuffled back to lean against the wall as they rose in fits and starts. "Thank God they didn't get around to torturing me. You showed up in the nick of time."
"It wouldn't've been pleasant," Kane said laconically, not bothering to look at her.
Right. "Not pleasant" was one way to put it. She shivered just thinking about the shrieks and screams of agony she'd listened to in there. Of course, she wasn't being tortured now, either, but it was damn unpleasant, just the same. "You were held captive in Libya, right?"
"Yeah."
Okay. That didn't open up a dialogue, either. The man was as uncommunicative as a clam. He'd been tortured for months in that hellhole in Al Jawf. During her second month at the Academy, she'd pored over what there was in the report. Reading between the lines, and empathizing, sick to her stomach at man's inhumanity to man. How had he withstood what they'd done to him? How had he survived?
How had he ended up in that prison? Had it been his mistake or a mistake by one of the others on his team?
"I'm sorry, it must've been hell," she said softly to his back. A massive understatement, she knew. Damn it. She was a fairly intelligent woman. Knew how to conduct a lively conversation most of the time. But with Kane Wright she felt ridiculously inept and tongue-tied. It didn't help that he was pissed. Or that he was being stubbornly unresponsive to her olive branch.
AJ curled her fingers into her palms. She desperately wanted to reach him on some level. Wanted him to be pleased with her, with her performance as an operative. She wanted, needed, his validation. Frustrated, she dug her short nails into her soft palms until she concentrated on that pain instead of the pain of disappointment crushing her chest.
She shouldn't need his
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