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to be here a couple of weeks.”
    â€œExactly.”
    â€œI was wrong. You’re not like Lana, you’re a lot like your brother, Beau. Very forthright.”
    â€œYep.” She blew out a noisy breath. “Most of the time, I don’t see a reason for being any other way.”
    â€œBut you do make exceptions.”
    â€œOf course. I’m not about to tell Mr. Ibeamaka I think he’s a slimy toad and that he has more chance with Paris Hilton than he does with Fleur.”
    â€œHe did seem taken with her.”
    â€œMuch to her disgust.”
    â€œWhat about you?”
    â€œMe and Ibeamaka?”
    â€œYou and anyone.”
    â€œThere’s no one.” And hadn’t been since before she started working with Sympa-Med.
    Â 
    When Roman returned to his team’s quarters, he found Lieutenant Neil Kennedy, otherwise known as Spazz, installing technical security measures in the communal room. “Where is everyone?”
    Neil finished securing a micro-cam in one corner. “Trigger is walking the perimeter.” The camera was so tiny that unless someone knew to look, it would be virtually undetectable.
    â€œI didn’t see him.”
    Neil squatted down and tucked unused equipment into the black duffel at his feet. “He’d be embarrassed if you had.”
    True. Of all the members on their team, Kadin’s training and skillset most closely matched Roman’s. “The others?”
    â€œOne of the baby grunts is getting some shuteye before his patrol duty tonight. The other is with Vincent at the mess.”
    â€œGood.” They’d brought two Marine privates to work the majority of the actual physical security detail with Vincent.
    â€œFace is in our room getting his beauty rest.”
    Captain Drew Peterson came from Army Special Forces Psych Operations. His official title had been Social Engineer. Unofficially, he was the ultimate con man with government sanction. Despite being African–American, his teammates had dubbed him “Face,” from a character in an old eighties sitcom who had the reputation for being able to lie his way into or out of any situation.
    Spazz was their computer and communications expert. He’d been turned down for the SEALs, but the Atrati didn’t limit themselves to super-soldiers. They simply looked for the best of the best. Neil was no wimp, but he wasn’t your typical Special Forces soldier either.
    His IQ? Off the charts, but he wasn’t the type of guy to be happy in a lab any more than Roman was. And when it came to computers, Neil was the best of the best. He could hack into Microsoft, never mind the Pentagon, and if there was a communications product on the market, he knew specs, availability and limitations.
    The sound of soft footfalls had Roman turning.
    Trigger pulled the door shut behind him. “So, what did you think, chief?”
    â€œSecurity isn’t anything to write home about. I’m surprised Sympa-Med doesn’t do more to protect their investment here. The medical supplies alone would bring in top dollar on the black market, not to mention the trained medical personnel.”
    â€œI wasn’t talking about the compound,” Kadin said with a verbal eye roll. “I meant the target. She seem like a spy to you?”
    Roman looked toward the bedroom that housed the sleeping Marine, but the door was closed. He flicked a glance out the screen-covered window for signs of anyone near enough to overhear them, but all was clear. Not that he would expect anything else. His men knew better than to compromise their assignment with loose lips.
    Roman hadn’t survived this long being sloppy, though. “She’s a hell of an actress.”
    â€œOr she’s not guilty. The Army brass want to cover their asses a little too much on this one,” Kadin replied.
    Roman leaned back against the wall with a peripheral view out the window. “You think they