Operation Proof of Life Read Online Free PDF

with a finger. “I don’t owe you squat. Julia chose me.”
    “Your debt has nothing to do with Julia. You betrayed my confidence in you as a spy when you faked your death two years ago.” He jammed the folder back into his briefcase. “Earn it back.”
    Flynn rose, his hands clenched into fists. “You’re setting me up to take a risk that could end my career and embarrass me in front of the entire intelligence community. That has everything to do with Julia.”
    In the past six months, Michael’s dislike of Flynn had mellowed, mostly because his feelings for Julia had done the same. She was happy with the asshole, and he cared about her enough to want that for her, even if it meant she was married to someone else.
    Besides that, Flynn was a damn good head of Operations. Better than Michael had been. Even with the budget cutbacks and a gutted army of field operatives, Flynn had manipulated the European and Middle East playing field with the tenacity and patience of a chess master. He’d been quietly building his secret army of spies who put their Cold War predecessors to shame. Multiple terrorist cells in Germany had been picked apart, two different attacks in Italy and Spain had been derailed. All because of Conrad Flynn.
    “I’m asking for your help,” Michael admitted, as much to himself as to Flynn, “because you’re the only person I trust with Ella’s life.”
    The fists relaxed. Flynn took a deep breath and eyed the wall on his way out. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Chapter Four
    Construction site southwest of Perkins
    Dull yellow light from overhead construction lamps fell on dump trucks and piles of lumber, casting eerie shadows and turning the faces of three men in the open space sallow. Their low male voices bounced like a hum between the bricks and made it difficult for Brigit to hear what they were saying from the front seat of her rental car, but she didn’t need to. The exchange between two Israeli terrorists and two unknown subjects was nearing its conclusion. The terrorists had produced a woman, a cloth bag over her head and her hands bound behind her back, from their vehicle, while their redheaded counterpart yanked a gym bag from the backseat of his rusty Volvo.
    As one of the Israelis rifled through the bag of money, the redheaded unsub assisted his ransomed friend toward the Volvo. Another player, smaller and wearing a knit hat, emerged from the driver side of the car and guided the woman into the backseat. The hair on Brigit’s arms rose at the sight.
    Truman’s instincts about Tory were spot on. There was no good reason for her to be in the States even though she was a U.S. citizen. No good reason for her to be at this construction site exchanging money for a hostage. No good reason, except for one.
    Both parties satisfied, the sound of slamming car doors echoed through the site. The deal was over. The Israelis pulled out first, never looking back.
    Brigit threw her binoculars into the passenger seat and shifted her car into gear. The Volvo had gone less than thirty feet when she rounded the corner, rocks flying, and cut it off.
    The Volvo’s front end dived as the driver hit the brakes. Brigit threw her rental into park and grabbed her gun, pointing it at the driver as she exited the car.
    The cold night air smelled like upturned dirt, metal pipes and cooling concrete. Her voice carried, sounding calm and assertive even though her hands were shaking. “Get out.”
    The passenger door opened instead and Tory stepped out. Under the weird light, Brigit made out the dark eyes, familiar nose and full lips identical to her own. The younger mirror image she hadn’t seen in years sent a wave of sadness flooding through her. It was her fault Tory was here, just like everything that had happened since the night their mother died in the fire.
    Tory stayed behind the door, using it as a partial shield. “Brigit. Long time no see, sister of mine.”
    In the now-silent construction area, the