Shattered Lies (Web of Lies #3)(9)



“I can’t. I stole this phone from someone at Manuel’s resort. I’m sure it’ll be tracked or disconnected as soon as it’s reported missing.”

Dalton swore, and Lizzy held her breath. Manuel must be Manuel Hernandez, and he was not someone you wanted to have after you.

“Get a boat that can hold at least eighteen gallons of gas and head for Cabo. Do you have something to write down directions with?”

“Yes,” Valeria whispered.

“This is your ultimate goal for extraction. If you are not at that location, your extraction will be Point B, the park.” Dalton read off the coordinates. “Hang on. Help is on the way.”

“Who?” Val asked nervously.

“You won’t be able to miss him. His name is Grant Macay. Stay safe.”

The line went dead and Lizzy finally breathed as she blinked back tears. “It’s all falling apart.”

“We don’t have time to think like this.” Dalton dialed and waited as the line connected. “Think of it this way. We have them on the ropes, and they’re so afraid they’re being brazen, and we know what that means.”

Lizzy nodded. “They’ll mess up. Our friends—”

“I know. And we’re helping them, even from halfway across the world. I’m calling Grant. You call Alex.”

“Aye,” a deep voice slightly accented with his Scots ancestry answered.

“Grant, Dalton.”

“What’s up?” Grant Macay, the pilot from Dalton’s pararescue team answered.

“Where are you?”

“Edwards. Just got stationed here in sunny California two days ago for the next six months.”

“We need your help.”

“We who?”

“The President of the United States.” Lizzy nodded to Dalton as she hung up with Alex. “Orders are coming in a minute to send you to Mexico for a classified drill. There’s a woman who needs an extraction, possibly hot. She’ll be at one of the following coordinates.”

“Cabo is always beautiful to visit, gunfire or not. I’ll find the wee lassie,” Grant assured.

“I wouldn’t call her that,” Lizzy muttered.

“Macay! You’ve got orders!” was overheard from the background.

Lizzy’s eyebrows rose. Alex worked fast.

“Someday you’ll have to tell me what’s going on. I’ll get this lass back to you or die trying.”

“These things I do,” Dalton said seriously.

“That others may live.” Grant finished the PJ motto before hanging up.

Lizzy reached her hand out and Dalton clasped it as the medical personnel walked by with the bodies from the sea. “Alex doesn’t have an update yet. He can’t get into the hospital. All phones are forbidden so Humphrey can’t call to let him know.”

Dalton nodded. “It’ll be in lockdown. The entire city will be. We better go.”

“Wait,” Lizzy said, stopping him. “Birch sent the bodies to Stanworth, but Stanworth is here and ends up dead shortly after the bodies would have been found. Plus, Sandra flew into Bucharest but now can’t be found.”

“And Bucharest is only a couple hours from the Black Sea.”

“It was a meeting of Mollia Domini!” Lizzy smacked his arm as it fell into place. “I hate leaving Tate and Birch but, Dalton, we’re close. We could take out the entire organization!”

“We need to find out how long the bodies were in the water and see where they came from,” Dalton said, grabbing her hand and rushing after the medics.





5





“Let me go,” Tate ground out between her teeth. She’d had a semi-rigid splint put on her leg and a bandage over her shoulder and was now being held hostage in her secured room by the meanest nurse she’d ever met until her leg surgery at the end of the day. It had been six hours, and she hadn’t been allowed to leave the room yet.

“You are recovering and getting ready for surgery tonight. You cannot get out of that bed.”

“The shoulder is nothing. I am going to see the president, or so help me, I will get out of this bed and strangle you. It’s been hours, and no one will tell me anything.”

The nurse looked at her as if she were a child. “First, you’re one of the nicer patients I’ve dealt with. Second, I don’t have information on the status of the president. It’s classified.”

“Is he alive?” Tate asked softly, her voice fading as it was replaced with heart-stopping fear.

The nurse’s look turned to pity. “I’m sorry. No one knows. The entire wing is closed off, and no information is coming out of it.” The nurse gave her a sad look and then left the private room, closing the door after her.

Tate grabbed a pillow and covered her face. She let the tears come. Great big sobs as she cried for those who had died last night at the restaurant, all because of her. She’d taken out Mollia Domini’s propaganda machine, embarrassing them, and innocents had died because of it. It was now clear their enemies were prepared to destroy anything they could not control.

Other federal agents had arrested the young officer who had shot the supposed CIA agent. When the agent had reached for her with his gun drawn, the officer shot. But she’d make sure he’d get out of jail by the end of the day. Crew had swooped in, picked Tate up, and had her inside the helicopter while everyone was distracted by the shooting. Tate was sure the agent was either a Mollia Domini plant in the CIA, or he wasn’t an agent at all. Either way, the young officer had saved her, and she’d make sure he was hailed a hero.

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