they would?
“Why is this information critical?” Charley brought Wyatt’s gaze back to her.
“Our reasons for this mission are classified.”
“Then how am I supposed to know what else to learn?”
Wyatt coughed into his fist. “You have a photographic memory for both sight and sound, correct?” Charley nodded at him. “We’d like to keep you wired for both and have you tell us everything you see—what we won’t be able to.”
“A play by play?” Cael asked.
“Yes, in debrief, also.”
“And to be successful in this, I have to become a six-foot, blonde pole dancer at an American club in Montreal. There’s no other way?” Charley held her hands out, palms up. She’d shifted toward him, her elbows on her knees, the folder beneath them wrinkled.
“No. We’ve explored every avenue, including the engagement of Miss Candie by the United States, as she’s a U.S. citizen.”
“But, that would be downright stupid.” James’s comment came by way of a throat clearing, to which Wyatt nodded.
“While we’ve found her information credible and sound, to keep the element of surprise, we must exclude her from project participation.”
“You mean, she’ll spill the beans to the bad guys if she knows what she knows is worth knowing,” Lily said.
Wyatt nodded, but the smile that escaped came in response to Charley.
She’d bumped her shoulder into Lily’s and let out the smallest of laughs. Her smile brought up those old memories again—ones he couldn’t place. It would eat at him if he didn’t ask, but to do so would be just plain rude, as his mother always advised.
“Can we go in as customers? Investors? Hire her for a private dance inside the club?” Cael asked.
Wyatt smirked. Cael knew the answers to all his questions as he’d been briefed before their meeting, but Wyatt would humor him for the rest of the group’s sake. “We’ve thought of that. The problem lies in Candie’s status at the club. She is one of their more … ah … popular dancers. We actually need to get her out of the club first.”
“You’ve tracked her movements?” James asked.
“Yes, for about a month. We have her habits expertly noted. The issue we’ve run into is that the men Candie heard the information from will be back at the club tonight.”
“And you call us now?” James straightened like a whip-switch, fury emanating from him. The knuckles of his hand grew white with his hold on the chair.
“I apologize for the late notice, but we only learned their plans to return again this morning. This could be our best, and potentially only, opportunity to gather this intelligence.”
“It sounds simple enough, James.” Charley said.
The way she held herself, how her eyes met Wyatt’s, and the way she softened when they did rang those bells again. Is she about to agree to this?
“While I’m not keen on learning to pole dance, I’m sure it can be accomplished. You’re aware of our fees?”
He’d been told to call, hire without question, pay whatever they asked, and get the job done. “I have been advised.”
“And that my team will accompany me?”
“Yes, with the exception of Mr. Aldrige.”
“What?” Charley stood. “This is my team! We do not separate for any project—including but not limited to government work—”
Nope, not going to agree. “Ms. Randall, may I explain?”
She waited with a tap of her toe, her teeth ground together.
No documentation, organizational charts, contractor clearance or other material indicated she governed their team, but her tone conveyed the message well enough.
“Mr. Aldrige is a member of a government that has no authority or rule in the nation to our north. In order to remain under the radar, our group must remain small and tight knit. Therefore, they’ve asked that I be sent in his place.”
Charley’s shoulders relaxed, her hands unclenched. He’d have sworn she softened. Why and how, he didn’t know, but a sense of déjà vu pervaded
“Why is this information critical?” Charley brought Wyatt’s gaze back to her.
“Our reasons for this mission are classified.”
“Then how am I supposed to know what else to learn?”
Wyatt coughed into his fist. “You have a photographic memory for both sight and sound, correct?” Charley nodded at him. “We’d like to keep you wired for both and have you tell us everything you see—what we won’t be able to.”
“A play by play?” Cael asked.
“Yes, in debrief, also.”
“And to be successful in this, I have to become a six-foot, blonde pole dancer at an American club in Montreal. There’s no other way?” Charley held her hands out, palms up. She’d shifted toward him, her elbows on her knees, the folder beneath them wrinkled.
“No. We’ve explored every avenue, including the engagement of Miss Candie by the United States, as she’s a U.S. citizen.”
“But, that would be downright stupid.” James’s comment came by way of a throat clearing, to which Wyatt nodded.
“While we’ve found her information credible and sound, to keep the element of surprise, we must exclude her from project participation.”
“You mean, she’ll spill the beans to the bad guys if she knows what she knows is worth knowing,” Lily said.
Wyatt nodded, but the smile that escaped came in response to Charley.
She’d bumped her shoulder into Lily’s and let out the smallest of laughs. Her smile brought up those old memories again—ones he couldn’t place. It would eat at him if he didn’t ask, but to do so would be just plain rude, as his mother always advised.
“Can we go in as customers? Investors? Hire her for a private dance inside the club?” Cael asked.
Wyatt smirked. Cael knew the answers to all his questions as he’d been briefed before their meeting, but Wyatt would humor him for the rest of the group’s sake. “We’ve thought of that. The problem lies in Candie’s status at the club. She is one of their more … ah … popular dancers. We actually need to get her out of the club first.”
“You’ve tracked her movements?” James asked.
“Yes, for about a month. We have her habits expertly noted. The issue we’ve run into is that the men Candie heard the information from will be back at the club tonight.”
“And you call us now?” James straightened like a whip-switch, fury emanating from him. The knuckles of his hand grew white with his hold on the chair.
“I apologize for the late notice, but we only learned their plans to return again this morning. This could be our best, and potentially only, opportunity to gather this intelligence.”
“It sounds simple enough, James.” Charley said.
The way she held herself, how her eyes met Wyatt’s, and the way she softened when they did rang those bells again. Is she about to agree to this?
“While I’m not keen on learning to pole dance, I’m sure it can be accomplished. You’re aware of our fees?”
He’d been told to call, hire without question, pay whatever they asked, and get the job done. “I have been advised.”
“And that my team will accompany me?”
“Yes, with the exception of Mr. Aldrige.”
“What?” Charley stood. “This is my team! We do not separate for any project—including but not limited to government work—”
Nope, not going to agree. “Ms. Randall, may I explain?”
She waited with a tap of her toe, her teeth ground together.
No documentation, organizational charts, contractor clearance or other material indicated she governed their team, but her tone conveyed the message well enough.
“Mr. Aldrige is a member of a government that has no authority or rule in the nation to our north. In order to remain under the radar, our group must remain small and tight knit. Therefore, they’ve asked that I be sent in his place.”
Charley’s shoulders relaxed, her hands unclenched. He’d have sworn she softened. Why and how, he didn’t know, but a sense of déjà vu pervaded
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