Exit Strategy

“Okay.” Kristie took a deep breath. “How much do you know about Ray Ortega?”

“What?”

“I mean, about where he’s been and what he’s been doing these last eleven months.”

“I have no idea. And I don’t care.”

Kristie winced, but persisted. “Did you know he left public service—”

“Left it? As if he had a choice? He’s lucky he isn’t in prison! I’ll never understand why President Standish pardoned him.”

“Because he saved my sister’s life, for one thing,” McGregor told her, his voice soft.

“Oh. I didn’t know that.” Miranda arched an eyebrow. “I’m guessing it’s his fault she was in danger in the first place though, right?” When McGregor nodded, her green eyes flashed. “Why are we talking about him? Has he done something else?”

Kristie reached across the table and grasped Miranda’s hand. “Ray went into seclusion after—well, after the pardon. He wanted to cleanse himself spiritually. To restore balance to his life. He was riddled with guilt, Miranda. It’s so unfair. He’s a good man. A great man, really. You know that in your heart, don’t you?”

Miranda stared at her for a moment, then spun toward McGregor and demanded, “What’s going on?”

“I don’t blame you for being confused. What you don’t know is that Ortega and Kristie are close friends. He hired her. Trained her to be a spinner. She owes him a lot. Loves him like a brother.”

Miranda gave a cool smile. “I guess that makes sense. But it doesn’t explain why you asked me here.”

“It’s simple,” Kristie told her. “Ray doesn’t want to have anything to do with me—with any of us—anymore. But we need his help. There’s a global conspiracy brewing—a dangerous paramilitary cartel—and he’s the only person in the world who can thwart it.”

“I doubt that,” Miranda drawled.

“No, really. He once saved the life of a major player in this conspiracy. A man named Jonathan Kell. We think Ray can get Kell to confide in him.”

Kristie had expected Miranda to scoff again, but the redhead surprised her by smiling with delight. “That’s what you want? Great! I won’t let you down. I’ll get Kell to talk. Believe me, I’ve had practice. And I’m embarrassed to say, I’m pretty good at it. Just tell me what you need to know, and I’ll make him spill it.”

Ignoring McGregor’s chuckle, Kristie insisted, “No, Miranda. You’re missing the point. We don’t want you to talk to Kell. We want you to talk to Ray.” Before the CIA operative could protest, Kristie forged ahead. “I’ve tried, but he shuts me out. He won’t talk to Will—Director McGregor—either. But he feels terrible about what he did to you. How he lied to you. Plus—”

“Kristie, don’t,” McGregor cautioned.

But the spinner knew she was right. “He fell for you that night, Miranda. I think you can get to him where all the rest of us have failed.”

“Fell for me?” Miranda repeated, as though she couldn’t trust her own hearing. “You’re kidding, right?” Her voice grew strident. “Ray Ortega used me. Lied to me. Made a fool out of me. Humiliated me. Ruined my career. That’s what happened that night, Ms. Hennessy. You think he feels guilty for it? Good! I hope you’re right about that. But don’t kid yourself. I was just a dupe, like he said in his stupid statement. I was naïve—”

“You were young and beautiful, with flowing red hair, a perfect face and a great body. And a warm, beautiful smile. Just the kind of female that gets to him. He said it to me himself, when we were investigating the murder together in L.A. He said he met a girl who made him remember what it’s like to fall in love—”

“He was lying! To save himself. My God, you’re worse than I was. I understand he’s your friend, Ms. Hennessy—”

“Call me Kristie. And listen to me, Miranda. I’ve seen the video. I know what happened between the two of you.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Drop it, Goldie,” McGregor muttered.

But it was too late. Miranda Cutler was on her feet, clearly upset by the reference to the alibi tape. “You want to know what happened between us that night? He screwed me. Literally and figuratively. That’s what you saw on the video.”

“Miranda—”

“When the cameras stopped rolling, Ortega was just getting started. He seduced me, just like he and Jane Smith planned. But don’t kid yourself. It had nothing to do with genuine feeling. It was all part of a scheme. Then he planted the idea in your head, too. Which makes you a dupe, too. Welcome to the club.”

Before Kristie and McGregor could even begin to respond, Miranda added unhappily, “I’m sorry. I know you think he’s your friend. And I’m sure he cares about you in his own way. But I’m sure he used you, too. Just like he used me. I thought he was this heroic, noble, patriotic guy. He played that part so well.”

Settling back down, she murmured, “He had just killed a man, but he flirted and teased as though we were really on our first date. That’s the Ray Ortega I know.”

“We owe you an apology, Miranda,” McGregor told her with quiet insistence. “We didn’t know how—well, how fresh all this was to you. Or how deep your feelings ran. Obviously, we don’t expect you to contact Ortega.”

“I’ll contact Kell instead,” she interrupted, her passion morphing into confidence before their eyes. “Trust me, I’ll get the information you need. Just tell me where to find him. If he’s heterosexual, he’ll talk to me.”

“I’m sure he would,” McGregor agreed with a chuckle. “But it’s not that simple. Kell’s a little unbalanced. Probably harmless, but he’s not your normal, run-of-the-mill mark.”

“Harmless nuts are my specialty,” the redhead assured him, her eyes sparkling.

McGregor’s eyes were twinkling, too, and Kristie felt a twinge of jealousy. Then she laughed at herself, deciding that this was a good sign. Miranda’s year as a seductress had made her so irresistible, even Will McGregor wasn’t completely immune.

Which meant Ray Ortega would be even more certain to capitulate!

“I don’t think the powers-that-be would be willing to let you handle that part of the assignment on your own,” McGregor was explaining to Miranda. “Talking to Ortega is one thing. Approaching Kell is another.”

“Aren’t you running the op?”

“Just the domestic portion.”

Miranda’s face fell. “So even if I get Ortega to cooperate, I won’t be part of the larger effort?”

“If you get Ray to come back here with you, he’ll be in charge of the op, and I’m sure he’ll want you on his team,” Kristie told her eagerly. “It works for everyone. See?”

“And even if you can’t convince him, we’ll put in a good word for you,” McGregor added.

Miranda bit her lip, visibly torn by the proposition.

“You can do it, Miranda,” Kristie whispered. “You can reach him. I’m sure of it.”

Miranda gave her a curious stare. “You’re so sure he’s a good guy. But if he really is, if he really cares about his country—about SPIN, about you—why is he refusing to help you break up a dangerous paramilitary cartel?”

“It’s complicated. He doesn’t trust himself anymore. He’s sure his instincts are out of whack, so he’s gone into voluntary exile.”

“And he insists he’s already given us all there is to know about Kell,” McGregor added. “He was thoroughly debriefed after the mission where he saved Kell’s life. That was almost ten years ago. When we contacted Ortega about this—asking for his help—he assured us Kell would be suspicious if he showed up at his place. He said we’re better off using the intel from the debrief and just sending someone else in.”

“I agree with him. You should send someone else. And that someone should be me.”

“Your assignment, if you’re willing to take it, is to lure Ray back here,” Kristie corrected her.

“Lure?”