Bang & Burn (The Smoke and Fire Duet #1)
Chapter 1
Elara
"I don't need a new partner; I don't want a partner, period." I say, crossing my arms, already done with this conversation. "Agent Cassidy, everyone at the bureau works with at least one person. We solve cases by working together." Orson Hartwell, AKA the Director of the FBI, is done with my shit. But he knows I'm a good agent, so he puts up with me.
"Yes, because I, of all people, joined the FBI to bond with others and do group projects. I did enough of that in college, so I'll pass, thanks." He rubs his face in his hands, sighing before he speaks again. “In the past year, all three of your partners requested reassignment because they physically could not work with you.” He says, shuffling through papers. “That should have been your first clue, boss.” I retort .
"Regardless, I’ve assigned you a new partner. He's a transfer from our Atlanta office." He pushes the button on his desk phone and instructs his secretary to ‘send him in’. I shoot him a death stare and even though he isn't looking at me, I know he can feel it. Seconds later, the door opens and in walks this man, this annoyingly handsome man. Well shit.
You know, when I got called into work at 8 P.M on my day off, I’m not sure what I was expecting, but I do know what I wasn’t expecting; meeting this gorgeous man and actively trying not to crumble completely in front of him. I may be the lone wolf type in my work, but that doesn’t mean my stomach doesn’t flip when he walks in the room. I do have eyes.
He looks to be about my age, 6 '3, chestnut brown eyes, short yet wavy brown hair, and tattoos galore up both of his arms and I'm assuming even more under his shirt since I can see small lines of ink peeking out the neckline of his shirt. Standing up, Orson motions towards him and then directs his attention towards me.
“Agent Elara Cassidy, this is Agent Ryder Hale, your new partner.”
I extend my hand out of courtesy and he accepts, wrapping a firm grip around my hand that is damn near two times smaller than his. “Pleasure to meet you, Elara.” His voice is deep yet soft, almost velvety. “Likewise.” My voice remains relatively monotone and I nod. I return my attention to Orson, and Ryder does the same. "Okay, great. Now that you two have been acquainted," he begins, "Agent Waylen Bardot hasn't checked in for over 72 hours. I’m concerned he’s been compromised or has gone AWOL, and I need you two to find him. His last known location was his hotel room. All the information about that is in this case file.”
He hands me the manilla folder and continues. “He was investigating the potential suicide of a government official across the pond with his partner, Jackson Holloway. Once you get in, give the embassy a call and they’ll get you in touch with Holloway. I have plane tickets waiting for you at Baltimore/Washington International. You leave at 10 P.M.” I skim the case file over before nodding and heading for the door. Ryder follows suit as I head towards my desk around the corner.
“I’m looking forward to working with you, El.” He pauses. “Sorry, is it alright if I call you El?” I gather my things off my desk, putting everything into my bag. "We won't be working together for very long, so don't bother with the nicknames." I say, waving him off. "What makes you say that?" he asks, clearing his throat.
"One: because I don't need a partner, but I keep getting stuck with them and two: every partner I've ever had has asked for reassignment because I'm difficult to work with." He sits down on the chair next to my desk. "I think you underestimate me, El. You think you don't need a partner, probably because you've never had a good one." He smirks. "Are you always this cocky?" I ask, rolling my eyes. "Yeah, but you'll get used to it." He says with a grin. Doubt it.
"So, where are we going?" He asks eagerly. "I open the folder and pass him a copy of Bardot's case notes. "London.” We head downstairs to the parking garage and drive to each of our apartments to pack.
I end up bringing basically my entire closet because I have no fucking clue how much to bring because I don’t know how long this case is going to last. We might find Bardot in a bar down the street, drunk off his ass, or we might have to drive for hours or days, quite literally sniffing out his trail.
Most of the cases I’ve worked on were pretty cut and dry; analyze the crime, profile suspects and weed through them, find the perp, arrest him, and call it a day. But when it involves an agent and their unknown movements, it gets tricky. No one wants to cry wolf, but you have to be ready for the worst and make the necessary calls. I don’t know Bardot well, but I don’t think he’s a double agent.
I have a knack for reading people, and he doesn't fit the bill. He’s a bit of an idiot if I’m being completely honest; he’s street smart, but he isn’t exactly what I would consider book smart and in this line of work, you need both. I'm surprised they even assigned him to an overseas case. I finish packing and go downstairs. We stopped at Ryder’s apartment first, so he waited in the car while I got my things.
As I approach the car, I see Ryder holding his head in his hand while leaning his elbow on the door. I open the backdoor and throw my bag inside and make my way to the driver’s seat.
“Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long, Sleeping Beauty.” I say, jokingly . “Not at all; I was just making sure the door is attached correctly.” He elbows the door and then pats it with his hand. “Yep. It’s secure.” I roll my eyes and let out a small chuckle as I put the car in drive.