Some of the maps he could interpret himself. Others had shapes he didn’t recognize.
Jordan was standing in front of a green-tinged aerial shot with small gray markings on it. “Oh, look at this. They are patrolling the borders of the land.” She used a white grease pencil to sketch out a perimeter for his eyes to follow.
His mind made sense of things. “The gray blobs are people?”
“Yep.”
Fletcher cracked open a Diet Coke and handed it to Jordan. She set down the pencil, took the chilly can absently with her left hand. She grabbed a slice of cold pepperoni pizza with her right.
“See this, right here?” She used the can to point to a spot on the map. Her mouth was full, the words a bit garbled, but he got the gist.
She swallowed. “I think this is our entry point. The satellite imagery shows no guards in this area for the past several hours. We have a shot if we move quickly. We can come in overland, through the woods, get a surrender and retrieve the girl.”
“You mean you and I can slip in the back while the rest are engaged up front?”
“That’s right.” She took a sip of soda. “We’ll be able to go straight to the house through the field. They’re not going to be watching the back when all the attention is on their front gate.”
“Don’t underestimate Curtis Lott. I think this woman will have that house guarded six ways to Sunday. I can’t imagine we’re going to have a shot at getting close without taking a few of her people out.”
“We’ll coordinate with our hostage rescue team. HRT will throw some flash bangs in there, gas them, knock them out. Then we’ll be safe to take Rachel.”
“What about the rest of the cult?”
“They’re down and get arrested. After we get the girl, the rest isn’t my problem.”
She set the can down and turned toward him. “What do you think?”
“I think you’re crazy. But I like it. Here.”
She had a crumb on her lip. He brushed it off with the pad of his thumb. She didn’t move. Her eyes were locked on his, and he realized he had the most insane urge to kiss her.
She knew it, too. She smiled when he furrowed his brow and dropped his gaze.
“I won’t hit you if you kiss me, you know.”
His head shot up. “What?”
“You heard me,” she said, then leaned in and touched his lips with hers.
A shock of desire flooded his body, and without thinking he gathered her in his arms and deepened the kiss. She fit against him well, and her arms immediately snaked around his neck so they were pressed together, every exquisite inch from knees to lips. She was strong and soft and smelled like lilacs.
One of her hands dropped to his hip and he realized he was getting dizzy. They shouldn’t be doing this. Someone might walk in.
Don’t think, Fletch. Just go with it.
Her back was long and smooth and he ached to feel her skin. Carefully, he pulled her shirt out of her pants so he could run his knuckles along her rib cage. She sighed and relaxed into him, accepting, allowing, and he had to stop himself from bending her backward over the conference table, stripping off her pants and forgetting everything for a while.
Breath coming in short gasps, he said, “No chance you locked that door, did you?”
She laughed quietly. Her hands went to the front of his shirt. She laid her palms on his flat stomach. “Where’s the fun in that?”
He kissed her again, ran his hands down her back and around to the front. “Why the hell do you wear pants all the time?”
“Because I wanted to see how long it would take for you to try to get into them.”
That was it. He was lost. “I think I have a crush on you, Special Agent Jordan Blake.”
They heard noises in the hall and broke apart, giggling like schoolkids.
He’d pulled her hair out of its ponytail holder. It was mussed around her face, and her cheeks were flushed. Very fetching. He watched her search for the small rubber band, and it was all he could do not to walk over to her, unbutton her shirt and take things further.
“You are thinking dirty thoughts,” she said, smiling. She looked down, around her feet. “Where the hell is that thing?”
He also glanced down, trying to remember. He’d pulled it out of her hair and tossed it...to the right. He followed the remembered trajectory and spotted it on an empty chair. He handed it to her sheepishly and she kissed him again, quick and hard.
“That was fun. We should do it again sometime,” she said.
“I have the next five minutes free.”
She laughed, a throaty sound that got him going all over again, but they heard voices, coming closer this time, and quick, heavy footsteps. Jordan was suddenly in motion, tucking and straightening. By the time Thurber walked in, they were calmly eating cold pizza and sipping on their flat Diet Cokes, and Jordan was pointing at the map again.
God, he was in so far over his head.