from the computer, she took another swig of her bottled water. Tonya Irvine reeked of weakness, filled the house with it. Melissa wrinkled her nose. If she didn't know any better, she would have thought that Ryan had a thing for her too. The way that he screamed in her face, the way that he pointed his finger at her. She shifted in her seat, now suddenly uncomfortable. Ryan was quick to run to her defense.
Melissa stood and went to the fridge for more water. If only Ryan could see her as more than one of the guys. She was never the one to play the dumb blonde to get attention. Her dance card was never full on a Saturday night. Most men didn't want to date a girl that they knew could kick their ass. She smiled at that thought. Melissa had been on over 70 missions, listened to over a thousand hours of conversation in her career for her government, which gave her the experience of people. She had watched people turn their once loyal backs on their people and their country. Half-truths had been said and implied and downright lies had been told to cover their own asses or others. That much experience lead her to believe this goody two shoes was lying about something. She knew something about the attacks. No way in the world you live through the shit storm in the last few hours and not have an idea of who was behind it. Melissa continued to dig.
There was a knock on the door. "Shit." She pushed away from the table. Swinging the door wide. "Can I help you?"
"Hopefully--" a black-haired man said. He wore a wrinkled suit and looked like he had been up for days. "Is a Mr. Thomas Moore in? I would like to speak to him."
Melissa thought quickly. Victor went by his middle name. "Who are you?" Melissa barked. One hand on the door the other on the small of her back where she kept her .45.
She watched him close as he went into his breast pocket and pulled out a badge. "I'm Special Agent Richard Kinney. I would like to speak to Mr. Moore."
Giving him a look up and down. "I'm sorry to disappoint, but Mr. Moore isn't here." She began to close the door; the agent was faster than she thought. He put his foot in the door, lowered and put his shoulder down and barged in the house. Before she could raise her weapon he had a grip on her wrist. Melissa held on until the strain of his vise grip made her release her gun.
The gun clanked on the floor. He kicked the gun to the far side of the foyer. “Now, I would like to know where Mr. Moore is." Pushing her back by her wrist and straightening his wrinkled suit jacket.
"He's not here." Rubbing her sore wrist and keeping an eye on her fallen weapon.
"Where is he?"
Her nose flared and she gritted her teeth. "I don't know, and if I did I wouldn't tell you." She put her back against the door in case he wanted to do more than ask her questions. Getting the gun out of her hands was going to be her last mistake.
Kinney smiled. "Relax, Daniels if I wanted you dead, you would be. Now tell me where your boss is now, before you have more than a sore wrist."
How did he know my name? she thought. She took the opportunity to lunge at him when he made a quick glance behind him. She managed to punch him square in the chest, which didn't catch him off guard in the least. He countered by grabbing the weak wrist and squeezing. "Is this a way for a lady to act?" The pain made her drop to her knees. Melissa yanked at her wrist and pulled the agent forward to the floor.
"This is how I act," she said. She pulled him to the floor. Rolling on top of the agent, she gave him punch to the jaw. The agent bucked her off. Melissa slid across the tile floor on her back. Picking up the gun she aimed at the agent. "Now, what the hell are you doing here?"
Kinney put his hands up and smiled. "Moore trained you well, Ms. Daniels. Now, if you would put the gun down and tell me where he is I will be out of your
Melissa stood and went to the fridge for more water. If only Ryan could see her as more than one of the guys. She was never the one to play the dumb blonde to get attention. Her dance card was never full on a Saturday night. Most men didn't want to date a girl that they knew could kick their ass. She smiled at that thought. Melissa had been on over 70 missions, listened to over a thousand hours of conversation in her career for her government, which gave her the experience of people. She had watched people turn their once loyal backs on their people and their country. Half-truths had been said and implied and downright lies had been told to cover their own asses or others. That much experience lead her to believe this goody two shoes was lying about something. She knew something about the attacks. No way in the world you live through the shit storm in the last few hours and not have an idea of who was behind it. Melissa continued to dig.
There was a knock on the door. "Shit." She pushed away from the table. Swinging the door wide. "Can I help you?"
"Hopefully--" a black-haired man said. He wore a wrinkled suit and looked like he had been up for days. "Is a Mr. Thomas Moore in? I would like to speak to him."
Melissa thought quickly. Victor went by his middle name. "Who are you?" Melissa barked. One hand on the door the other on the small of her back where she kept her .45.
She watched him close as he went into his breast pocket and pulled out a badge. "I'm Special Agent Richard Kinney. I would like to speak to Mr. Moore."
Giving him a look up and down. "I'm sorry to disappoint, but Mr. Moore isn't here." She began to close the door; the agent was faster than she thought. He put his foot in the door, lowered and put his shoulder down and barged in the house. Before she could raise her weapon he had a grip on her wrist. Melissa held on until the strain of his vise grip made her release her gun.
The gun clanked on the floor. He kicked the gun to the far side of the foyer. “Now, I would like to know where Mr. Moore is." Pushing her back by her wrist and straightening his wrinkled suit jacket.
"He's not here." Rubbing her sore wrist and keeping an eye on her fallen weapon.
"Where is he?"
Her nose flared and she gritted her teeth. "I don't know, and if I did I wouldn't tell you." She put her back against the door in case he wanted to do more than ask her questions. Getting the gun out of her hands was going to be her last mistake.
Kinney smiled. "Relax, Daniels if I wanted you dead, you would be. Now tell me where your boss is now, before you have more than a sore wrist."
How did he know my name? she thought. She took the opportunity to lunge at him when he made a quick glance behind him. She managed to punch him square in the chest, which didn't catch him off guard in the least. He countered by grabbing the weak wrist and squeezing. "Is this a way for a lady to act?" The pain made her drop to her knees. Melissa yanked at her wrist and pulled the agent forward to the floor.
"This is how I act," she said. She pulled him to the floor. Rolling on top of the agent, she gave him punch to the jaw. The agent bucked her off. Melissa slid across the tile floor on her back. Picking up the gun she aimed at the agent. "Now, what the hell are you doing here?"
Kinney put his hands up and smiled. "Moore trained you well, Ms. Daniels. Now, if you would put the gun down and tell me where he is I will be out of your
Similar Books
