17. The Warehouse #2
“No.”Next.“No.”Next.Chris pointed.“Him.”Sloan stopped.“Luis Mendoza.”
“What do we know?”
“Suspected logistics coordinator.”
“Not suspected anymore.”Another photograph.Chris pointed again.“Him too.”
Logan looked up.“Carlos Vela.”
“What was he doing?”
“Loading duffels.”Chris continued.Routes.Phoenix.El Paso.Monterrey.Then:“Salazar.”
Mercer’s pen stopped.“What?”
“Mateo told an unidentified male to tell Salazar he’d have the balance Friday.”Sloan looked at Mercer.Logan sat forward.“Salazar as in Rafael Salazar?”
“Don’t know.”
“If it is…”Mercer walked toward the board.The energy in the room changed.For the first time since the operation began, they weren’t chasing shadows.They had something.Real connections.Real movements.Real names.Mercer turned toward Chris.
“This is it.”Chris nodded.“This is it.”Logan grinned.
“You beautiful bastard.”Chris looked at him. “Please never say that again.”
“No promises.”Sloan was smiling.Actually smiling.“We’ve been trying to put Vargas inside that warehouse for fourteen months.”Chris leaned back.“Well, congratulations.”
Mercer looked at him.“You did it.”
“No.”Chris shook his head.“We’re close.”
“Walker—”
“Close isn’t enough.”The room quieted.Chris looked toward Mateo’s photograph.
“We need him connected to the shipments. Money. Orders. Suppliers. Distribution. Something a defense attorney can’t explain away as him visiting a warehouse owned by an associate.”Mercer nodded slowly.“Agreed.”Chris stood.“Let me stay in.”Mercer looked at him.
“This helps your argument.”
“Good.”
“But it doesn’t erase my concerns.”Chris knew immediately.Here we fucking go.Mercer looked toward the others.
“Give us the room.”Logan grabbed his coffee.Sloan didn’t move.Mercer looked at her.
“You stay.”Fantastic.Even better.The others filed out.The door closed.Mercer looked at Chris.
“How involved are you with Camila?”Chris’s expression hardened.
“She’s not involved.”Mercer stared.“That’s not what I asked. ”Chris said nothing.
Sloan leaned against the table.“Chris.”He looked at her.“What?”
“Answer him.”
“No.”Mercer’s eyebrows rose.“No?”
“My relationship with Camila isn’t operationally relevant.”
“Your relationship with the sister of the target is absolutely operationally relevant.”
“She doesn’t know anything.”
“Again—not what I’m asking.”Chris shoved his hands into his pockets.Mercer stepped closer.“Are you sleeping with her?”Chris’s jaw tightened.Nobody spoke.Mercer had his answer.“Jesus Christ.”Chris looked away.“How long?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.”
“Then be disappointed.”Sloan exhaled.“Chris.”He turned.“What?”Her voice softened.That was worse.“Are you attached to her?”He laughed without humor.“We’ve already done this.”
“And you walked out.”
“Maybe take the hint.”
“Walker.”He looked at her.Sloan held his eyes.“Does she know?”
“Know what?”
“How you feel.”Chris didn’t answer.“Does she love you?”
“Stop.”
“Does she?”
“Sloan.”
“Because if she does—”
“Stop.”
“—you need to understand what happens when this case ends.”Chris’s temper flared.“You think I haven’t fucking thought about that?”Silence.There it was.
More truth than he’d intended.Sloan’s expression changed.Chris turned away.“Shit.”
He rubbed his face.“Can we talk about the fucking warehouse?”
“No,” Sloan said quietly.Chris looked back.“Because I know you.”
“Congratulations.”
“I know what you look like when something matters.”
“Everything matters.”
“Not like this.”Chris stared.Sloan stepped closer.“You’re risking your cover.”
“No.”
“You’re lying to her every day.”
“I know.”
“You’re building something with her that cannot survive the truth.”
“I fucking know.”His voice echoed through the room.Nobody moved.Chris breathed hard.
Sloan watched him.Then asked quietly:“Are you in love with her?”Chris’s eyes closed.
There it was again.The question he’d spent days avoiding.Camila asleep against his chest.
Camila stealing his sunglasses.Camila bringing him coffee.Camila touching his scars.Camila sneaking into his room barefoot after midnight.Camila laughing in the passenger seat.Camila walking beside him through the gardens.Camila whispering:You came back.Chris opened his eyes.He didn’t answer.He didn’t have to.Sloan’s face fell slightly.
“Fuck.”Chris looked away.Mercer was silent.Sloan stepped closer.“Walker.”“Don’t.”
“Don’t fall in love with her.”Chris laughed once.Broken.Bitter.Far too late.Sloan saw it.
Her eyes closed.“Oh, Chris.”He grabbed his jacket.Mercer spoke.“You walk out that door, you’re still under direct order to maintain operational priorities.”Chris stopped.He looked at Mateo’s photograph.Then at Camila’s.Side by side.Target.Innocent.Brother.Sister.Case.
Woman he loved.Two worlds that were getting closer to colliding every single day.
“I know what the job is.”Mercer’s voice hardened.
“Do you?”Chris turned.For the first time, there was no Roman in his face.No undercover swagger.No jokes.Just Chris Walker.
“I’ve been shot for this job.”His voice was quiet.
“I’ve lied for it. Bled for it. Almost died for it. ”
He looked toward Mateo’s photograph.“And I’m going to finish it.”Then his eyes shifted to Camila.“But she isn’t him.”Sloan said nothing.“She doesn’t pay for what her brother does.”
“We’re not asking her to.”
“Good.”Chris opened the door.Sloan’s voice stopped him.“Chris.”He looked back.“Be careful.”Chris almost smiled.“Always.”
“You’re not careful with her.”His smile disappeared.No.He wasn’t.Chris walked out.
At 10:58, Chris pulled the Range Rover beneath the Vargas mansion’s front entrance.At exactly eleven, Camila walked outside carrying two coffees.She opened the passenger door.Front seat.Always the front now.She climbed in and handed him his cup.
“Black. No sugar.”Chris took it.“Marry me.”Camila laughed. “That’s all it takes?”
“Apparently.”She stole his sunglasses from the console.Chris watched her put them on.“You know those are mine.”
“Not anymore.”She leaned over and kissed him.Quick.Easy.Familiar.
Chris’s chest tightened.Camila pulled back.“What?”He looked at her.
She had no idea where he’d been that morning.No idea what he’d seen.
No idea that her brother had just taken him inside the operation the FBI had been hunting for more than a year.No idea Chris had spent the last hour telling federal agents how to dismantle it.And absolutely no idea that he’d just been warned not to fall in love with her.Camila frowned.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”Chris reached over.
Touched her cheek.Then kissed her again.Longer this time.When he pulled away, she smiled.“What was that for?”Chris started the SUV.“Nothing.”
“Liar.”He looked at her.She smiled behind his sunglasses.And Chris finally admitted the truth to himself.Sloan’s warning hadn’t come too late that morning.It had come too late the first day Camila Vargas walked into that garage and asked him if something was interesting.Chris had already crossed the line.He just hadn’t known it yet.Don’t fall in love with her.Too late.Way too fucking late.