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package postmarked from France.” At the mention of severed digits, Anika’s fingers curled inward. “That will put an end to the proposed partnership.”
    “And me? How do I survive the blast?”
    “As soon as you start transmitting the intel, exit the warehouse and go down to the river. Transport will be waiting for you with a remote for acknowledging U.N.I.T.’s confirmation. Get as far downstream as you can before using it. You’ll have three minutes.”
    “Three minutes? Not much time.”
    “It will have to be enough.”
    “And my tracking chip?” She touched the back of her neck where the electronic device that tethered her to the agency was embedded.
    “As soon as the bomb detonates, I’ll deactivate it.”
    “You can do that?”
    “Your chip will stop transmitting.” Gianni spoke as if he hadn’t heard her. “That will indicate the successful completion of the mission.”
    “You mean, that I’ve died.”
    “You’ll have what you want.” Gianni’s accent thickened and his eyes drilled into hers. “Your freedom.”
    Her pulse jittered and she drew in a breath to steady it before turning back to the images on the screen. “Aren’t they expecting a man?”
    “Each side has never met the other’s representative, but they have provided DNA. Testing will be done on-site to verify identification. Camouflage will attach patches filled with the real rep’s blood to your fingers. And toes.”
    “Toes?”
    “Added precaution.”
    Anika caught a shift in his tone. Not flat, but not angry either. As if his mind had switched subjects.
    “What’s wrong?” she asked.
    “It seems … too easy.”
    “Not to me.”
    “I’ve checked the intel and logistics myself. They synch up. But planning a solo this fast is not typical.” He studied her face as if seeking the answer to a mystery.
    “I guess I’m just lucky.” She shrugged and tried to brush off his unease. And her own.
    “Do you really believe that?” His stare darkened.
    Anger or worry? She shifted in her seat and looked away.
    He punched more buttons on his computer. Privacy ended.
    The beep of a lock decoding sounded at the door. Jewel leaned in. “Am I interrupting?” Her voice grated like crushed glass against Anika’s skin.
    How does she know the code to his office?
    “Not at all.” Anika jumped to her feet. “Briefing’s in ten?”
    “Sub-level one.” Gianni’s look and tone were back to neutral.
    She hoped she seemed equally calm, even though her insides churned with frustration at Jewel’s presence and despair at the thought that this would be her last time alone with Gianni.
    She brushed past the petite operative and bypassed the elevator in favor of the stairs. The physical activity would help focus her thoughts before the official briefing got underway. She pounded up the metal steps, hit the corridor at a run, swerved around a corner and … wham! A chest as hard as steel stopped her cold.
    John Mackey, a field operative six months out of training, took advantage of the contact and pulled her into a vise-like hug.
    Her muscles tensed and she almost gagged. Egyptian musk cologne. Ugh .
    “M-m-m.” Mac rested his chin on her head. “This is an unexpected treat, sweetface.”
    “You have three seconds, Mac.”
    “What’s the matter? Haven’t you missed me, Anika?” He mispronounced her name. As usual. Short “a” instead of “ah.” It scraped against her nerves.
    “Three.” She threw back her head and jabbed her knuckle into his windpipe.
    Mac fell back, coughing, and shielded the tender spot with his beefy hand.
    Like Gianni, Mac was a “lifer.” U.N.I.T. had recruited him from Michigan Reformatory where he was serving multiple life sentences for gang-related murders. He still wore the markings of his former life, tattooed Gospel quotations up and down his arms and a monk-like fringe of black hair.
    Anika started to step around him.
    “Christ, I was just screwin’ off,” he croaked. “Can’t anybody