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23 |The Excalibur Hotel & Casino Las Vegas, Nevada Present Day
“I can’t eat that.”
The man stared at whom CIA Analyst Supervisor Chris Leroux assumed was his significant other. “Why not?”
“There’s something wrong with it.”
“What?”
“The chicken. It’s too small. It must have been sick.”
The man chuckled and Leroux suppressed a smile. “It’s a Cornish game hen. It’s supposed to be small.”
The young woman, Filipino he was guessing, vehemently shook her head. “You eat it.”
The man shrugged. “Fine, but you’re going to be hungry later.”
She poked at her fingerling potatoes, clearly not pleased with much of the meal, the dinner served at the medieval show definitely not designed for Asian palates. “Can we order room service when we get back to the hotel?”
The man frowned. “Ugh! I just paid for this!”
She whispered something in his ear.
“Really?”
She nodded.
“Baby, for that, you can order the Kobe beef!”
Sherrie White, Leroux’s significant other as well as a CIA Agent, snorted, and the couple they had been eavesdropping on flinched then looked back. Sherrie smacked Leroux on the arm. “You’re too funny, hon.”
Leroux sat in mid-chew, his tiny Cornish game hen gripped in front of his mouth, unsure of what to say. Improvisation was never his strong suit. “Umm, thanks?”
The two in front of them flushed then resumed watching the show, their conversation curtailed, something Leroux would have felt guilty about if he were the one that had dropped the ball.
He glanced at Sherrie. “Some agent you are.”
She shrugged, ripping a leg off the poor bird. “I’m off duty.”
Swords clashed as men raced past each other on horseback, the hooves kicking up the dirt that filled the air with a smell Leroux wasn’t accustomed to.
Nature.
He was a geek, dork, nerd, whatever the kids were calling it these days—probably none of the above—whose idea of a good time was the couch and a good sci-fi marathon. Yet when he had landed the outgoing bombshell sitting beside him with the help of his best friend from high school, Dylan Kane, he began to slowly emerge from his shell.
Though his idea of a good time was still the couch and a good sci-fi marathon, except now he preferred it bookended with sex.
Something twitched.
He gazed at Sherrie for a moment, chewing away as she watched the duel, probably hoping for a slipup that resulted in some real blood. She was all action. Badass, kickass, and smartass. She was awesome, way more than he deserved, though she’d kick his ass if she knew he still sometimes felt that way.
My God, I’m a lucky guy!
Leroux’s phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out reluctantly. He had no friends besides Sherrie and Kane. She was with him, and Kane was on assignment. That meant it had to be work related, and they weren’t to contact him unless it was a matter of life or death.
Unfortunately, in his business, it was always a matter of life or death.
He checked the call display.
It was Sonya Tong, one of his senior analysts. He flashed the display to Sherrie who shrugged. “If you get recalled, I’m going to the Thunder from Down Under. I’ve got three hours left before I head to Shitbuktu, and I want to enjoy civilization the way it was meant to be. Vegas style.”
He gave her a look then swiped his greasy thumb across the display. “This better be good. I’ve got a girlfriend who’s threatening to leave me for a dozen ripped Aussies.”
“Umm, I think it’s good.”
He immediately regretted being so casual. When he was as happy as he was at this moment, it was too easy to forget there were those who hadn’t been as lucky as him to find the love of their lives. Especially when the love of their lives was on the other end of the phone.
And their boss.
Tong had an unhealthy crush on him, and as her boss, it put him sometimes in a bit of an awkward position, especially when Sherrie was involved in an op.
“What is it?”
“I’ve got a message from Special Agent Kane that he needs help with.”
Leroux immediately became concerned for his best friend, and leaned forward, drawing Sherrie’s attention. She became all business, putting down her food and carefully wiping her fingers as she prepared for a quick change of plans. “What is it? Is he okay?”
“Yes, he’s fine. It’s the professors that aren’t.”
Leroux sighed with relief. Though he didn’t wish Professors Acton and Palmer any ill will, should anything happen to them, he’d lose little sleep over it. They were acquaintances at best.
Kane’s death, on the other hand, would leave a hole inside him that he doubted could ever be filled.
“What have they gotten themselves into this time?”
“They’re claiming a colleague of theirs has been kidnapped by the Saudis, and they’re demanding the professors steal some ring to get him back.”
Leroux’s eyebrows shot up.
That’s a new twist.
“Okay, I’m scheduled to be back there tonight, anyway, so start the usual checks. Do you have the name of the professor that was kidnapped?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, run down everything you can on him, find out if there’ve been any reports, and see if you can contact the professors.”
“They’ve asked to not be contacted. They think they’re under surveillance.”
“Okay, find them, see if we can get some eyes on them. I’ll contact the Director to let him know what’s going on, but let’s operate under the assumption we’re a go.”
“Okay, I’ll assemble the team.” There was a pause. “Sorry to interrupt your, umm, romantic getaway.”
Leroux searched for the right words. “Don’t worry about it. It’s Vegas, not Paris.” He ended the call then turned to Sherrie. “Bad news.”
“Professors again?”
“Yup. I’ve gotta call the Director. I’ll be right back.”
“You better hurry. Those oiled up racks of ribs are hitting the stage soon.”
Leroux patted his stomach. “Not happy with my washboard abs for delicates?”
Sherrie snorted, as did the couple in front of them, and Leroux smiled.
Then wondered just how much they had overheard of his phone call.
Amateur move, moron.