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many questions to answer, and too much red tape to deal with. A door opened two columns away from his position. His best escape was to run for the door, sliding in before the bastard could get another shot off.
    Davis took a deep breath and dashed the eight to ten feet to the next column, praying the entire way that he wouldn’t be hit. When was safe again, he drew in a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. The bastard would be prepared for him to run, or maybe the dude was packing up his shit, hoping to leave the area before the cops arrived.
    Davis glanced around again, looking for something better, but he didn’t have too many options so he moved quickly, racing to the door and inside. No more shots were fired as he traveled through the building, weaving his way down halls that twisted and turned.
    Someone had made him. That they had read him so well was frightening. He hadn’t been as invisible as he’d thought. The mission was a bust. But maybe something else had gone wrong and his actions hadn’t been to blame. What the fuck had just happened? Someone, maybe someone on the inside, had spilled his information, allowing the enemy to find him. Or maybe the CIA had turned against him. He needed to go to ground before he showed his face again. Who had known about this mission and why had they tried to kill him?
    Davis let his subconscious spin on the problem as he made his way out of the building. He walked a few blocks, watching cop cars and ambulances stream by. This mission was beyond fucked up. Normally, he’d call in once he was safe, but today, he didn’t think he wanted to contact anyone, least of all his handler.
    With a quick check over his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t being followed, Davis ducked into a crowded shopping area with a grocery store attached. He snaked his way through the aisles and headed to the bathroom.
    The store cameras would pick him up if he exited through the main entrance, but as he glanced down the hallway leading toward the back of the store, it appeared to be clear of video capture devices. Once he was done removing the disguise, he’d head out the back, becoming anonymous once again on the streets of Boston. At least he’d caught one break. This mission had been fucked up since the beginning. He hated that it looked like someone on the inside had betrayed him.
    After removing his shirt and jacket, taking off the extra padding and stuffing it into the backpack he’d been carrying, he removed the facial prosthetics that hid his true identity. The only real question he had was if the man shooting at him actually knew where he lived and knew what he really looked like. Once he was safe, he’d need to go over this mission with a fine-toothed comb. For the rest of the day and tonight, there could be no mistakes. He wouldn’t return to his hotel. Luckily, he traveled light and had everything he needed in his backpack. Tonight, he’d stay somewhere else, hiding from everyone he knew.
    He exited the bathroom, heading to the back door used by the employees. It wasn’t the first time he’d snuck out the back, and he was sure it wouldn’t be the last, but it was the first time he’d had to run when he was afraid of the people he worked with.
    What had he done wrong? His disguise was solid, or he thought it was. Maybe he hadn’t been careful when he’d arrived. Or maybe he’d made a mistake taking the red line instead of a cab, or there were a thousand little things he’d messed up on or just one. It was maddening. Or possibly he hadn’t made any mistakes at all, and he’d been burned, tossed out, fed to the wolves. Davis drew in a deep breath, forcing a calm he didn’t feel. Today was going to be a very long day.
     

 
     
    Chapter Six
     
    Once again they’d set up everything in the den and kitchen, taking over the main rooms of the ranch. Roger looked up from the computer he’d been working on, letting his eyes adjust. Twenty-four hours of nothing but studying