6. DRIVE #3
He’d thought that might get Mercer’s attention.His phone rang.Chris answered.“Walker.”
“What exactly did Vargas say?”Chris looked through the windshield toward the enormous illuminated mansion.“He wants me inside the party.”Silence.Then Mercer:“Jesus Christ.”
“That’s generally a good reaction.”
“Don’t be a smartass. Do you understand what this could give us?”
“Faces. Names. Associations.”
“People we’ve been trying to connect to Vargas for years could walk straight into that house.”
“I know.”
“This changes things.”Chris’s gaze traveled toward the second floor.A light came on.Camila’s bedroom.His eyes remained there a second too long.Mercer’s voice sharpened.“Walker.”
“I’m here.”
“This isn’t a party.”
“I know.”
“You’re not going there to drink champagne.”
“I know.”
“You’re not going there to dance.”Chris’s mouth twitched.“Wasn’t planning on it Sir.”
“You’re there to work.”
“Understood.”
“And whatever is happening with Vargas’s sister—”Chris’s expression immediately changed.“Nothing is happening.”
“Good.”Mercer paused.“Keep it that way.”Chris stared at Camila’s window.“Yeah.”He disconnected.For several seconds, Chris remained behind the wheel.One ballroom.
Potentially dozens of people the FBI desperately wanted identified.It could be the biggest intelligence opportunity of the entire operation.Christopher Walker should have been thinking about nothing else.Instead, one completely useless thought entered his head.
What the hell is Camila going to wear?Chris started the Range Rover.“Fuck me.”
He pulled away from the mansion.Chris Walker stand beneath Mateo Vargas’s chandelier surrounded by federal targets, cartel associates and enough evidence to change the entire investigation.And Mateo would make everything infinitely worse with five words.
Roman. Dance with my sister.
The next morning 6 am, Logan walked into an FBI-controlled storage facility and immediately found Chris waiting for him.Chris leaned against a workbench.Arms crossed.Logan stopped.“Oh, good.”Chris smiled without humor.“Hi.”
“I know that face.”
“What face?”
“The one right before you become annoying.”Chris pushed off the bench.“You pulled alongside me.”Logan frowned.“When?”Chris stared.“Don’t.”
“The straightaway?”
“Yes.”
“I was supposed to close.”
“Behind me.”
“I had room.”
“You weren’t supposed to get beside me.”Logan shrugged.“It sold it.”Chris’s jaw tightened.“Mateo reached for a gun.”That wiped the amusement away.“What?”
“Inside his jacket.”Logan stared.Chris stepped closer.“You want to improvise when we’re training? Fine. You improvise while I’ve got a cartel boss in the back seat, you’re changing variables I can’t control.”Logan nodded slowly.“Fair.”
“Fair?”
“I said you’re right.”Chris paused.He hadn’t expected that.Logan shrugged.“Don’t get used to it.”Chris looked at him another second.Then relaxed slightly.“Asshole.”
“Psychopath.”Mercer entered from the adjoining room.“Are we done flirting?”
Chris and Logan looked at him.Mercer tossed a folder onto the table.“Congratulations.”
Chris didn’t touch it.“On?”
“Mateo requested Roman for three separate jobs next week.”Chris’s expression changed.
“Already?”
“Already.”Sloan entered behind Mercer.“He also told Ortega you’re no longer to spend all your time in the garage.
”Chris looked between them.“So?”Mercer smiled.
“You’re moving up.”That should have been good news.It was good news.Chris had spent weeks trying to get close to Mateo.One controlled pursuit had accomplished more than all of it.Sloan looked at him.
“You were right about the risk.”Chris raised an eyebrow. “Can you say that again? Slower?”
“Don’t ruin it.”He smiled.“But it worked.”Chris looked down at the folder.Mateo Vargas.
Closer.Finally.“How close?”Mercer answered.“We’ll know soon.”Chris opened the folder.
Three addresses.Three times.One was Mateo’s office.One was a restaurant.The third—
Chris stopped.The Vargas mansion.His eyes stayed on the address.Sloan noticed.“What?”
“Nothing.”Chris closed the folder.But he remembered the mansion from the night before.
The stone walls.The guards.The cameras.The huge glowing windows.And without wanting to, he remembered something else.A woman he’d met once in a garage.Dark eyes.A teasing smile.Something interesting?Chris shoved the folder beneath his arm.
Sloan watched him.“Walker.”He looked at her.“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“I know that look.”Chris laughed.“Apparently everyone knows my looks now.”
“Camila Vargas lives at that estate.”Chris’s smile disappeared.“I know.”
“I’m reminding you.”
“Don’t need it.”
“She is not part of this operation.”
“I know.”
“Good.”Chris headed toward the door.Mercer called after him.“Where are you going?”
Chris didn’t turn.“To become indispensable.”He walked out.Behind him, Sloan looked at Mercer.
Mercer looked at Logan.Logan shrugged.“Should probably start praying for Vargas.”
Sloan frowned.“Why?”Logan looked toward the door Chris had just disappeared through.
“Because Walker only has two speeds.”Mercer sighed.“Don’t.”Logan smiled.“Stopped.”
Sloan waited.“And?”Logan’s grin widened.“Fast.”