The Trap (Agent Dallas 3) Read Online Free PDF

of fuzzy cloth that she liked to rub, and occasionally sniff, if she was feeling particularly insecure. Someday she would toss the last piece of it.
    She walked six blocks to Saxby’s Coffee shop on O Street and used her Tara Adams phone to text Luke and let him know where she was. Normally, she thought of targets and subjects by their last names—as everyone in the bureau did—but she interacted too closely with the inner circle for them to be last name only. Mistakenly calling Luke ‘Maddox’ when she was talking to another member could be a tip-off. But Drager referred to everyone by last name, which was fine with her. She hated the name Jamie and once she’d entered the bureau, she’d been happy to be called Dallas. Or Sonja. Or Tara. She loved slipping into a new persona and getting on a plane to go stay in a new setting. It was in her DNA now, after growing up in constant motion.
    Luke texted back immediately:
I’ll pick you up in 20 minutes. White van with blue lettering. Be outside and ready.
    The message sounded urgent and a little clandestine. Energy surged through her body, so Dallas downed her coffee and walked around the block three times, barely noticing the DC architecture and multiculturalism that normally caught her attention. Seventeen minutes later, she stood in front of the coffee shop, waiting. She remembered Luke asking if she would break the law to further the cause. Would they test her loyalty? How serious would the crime be? The bright sun was warmer now, and sweat pooled at her bra line. When she’d infiltrated a prostitute ring in New Mexico, she’d snorted cocaine to blend in and had once delivered a satchel of cash to a white-collar criminal right before arresting him. But every nerve in her body was telling her this would be a whole new level of criminal participation.

Chapter 6
    Five minutes later, a white van lettered with
Eric’s Electric
pulled up, and the side door opened. She stepped toward it, and Cree scooted over to make room on the passenger bench. Dallas climbed in and pulled the door closed, the sound echoing like the slam of a jail door.
    “Hey, Tara.” Cree grinned beside her. “You wore black. Good instincts.”
    “I like to be prepared for anything.”
    From the driver’s seat, Luke glanced over his shoulder. “Welcome.” He turned back and gunned the van into the flow of traffic. Abby, in the front passenger seat, shifted to face her. “The location of the meeting has changed. It’s happening right here, right now.”
    A hand clapped her shoulder from behind. “I’m Aaron.” Dallas turned and nodded. Aaron said, “You came along at the right time. My body’s giving out, and I just can’t move like I used to.”
    Aaron was middle-age and gaunt, which made his brow protrude from his forehead. Did he have AIDS or some other wasting disease? Was he an ex-con too? Luke and Abby both had criminal records from long ago, but neither had been in trouble since their last release. She’d heard their personal stories—Luke’s more tragic than Abby’s—as well as perused their law enforcement files. But Aaron was new to her. “Are you all right?”
    “I’m still here, so yes.” He winked. “Thanks for asking.”
    She would sneak a peek at his ID later. When she had a last name, she would send it to Drager to research. First rule of undercover work: Know who everyone is and minimize the surprises.
    Abby snapped her fingers, so Dallas turned back, suppressing her irritation. “What’s the plan?”
    “Sabotaging a fundraiser for Congressman Ralph Bletzo. He’s the primary reason Texas has more for-profit prisoners than any other state. He’s also blocking legislation to end mandatory sentencing. JRN has people protesting at every event he stages, but we need to cut off his money. We’re working on a digital solution to empty his campaign account, but cutting off the flow is the best place to start.”
    Dallas’ shoulders relaxed. The mission sounded