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other side of Tijuana by now.” His mouth tightened. “Which may actually be the best possible outcome, as far as you’re concerned, Petty Officer Dunn.”
    Logan’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean by that?”
    Olson pointed to the tablet. “I mean this guy—Illarion Volkov—is one nasty SOB. He served in both Russian Special Forces and their Foreign Intel Service, but they considered him so out of control they not only tossed him out of the military and covert intelligence communities, but out of Russia, too. There are a lot of rumors swirling around as to why, but apparently he showed a willingness to kill a whole lot of people in his efforts to accomplish his missions. Since being exiled, he’s been working as a mercenary for anyone who will hire him, which includes Russia, as strange as that is.”
    “He sounds like the kind of man the CIA would have wanted to get their hands on,” Logan said.
    “We do,” Olson agreed. “But considering you killed his brother, it’s probably a good thing he took off.”
    Felicia’s stomach clenched. “You don’t think he’ll come back, do you?”
    The mere thought of him coming after her and Stef—or Logan—made her feel like she might pass out.
    Olson shook his head. “It’s not likely. Sure, he’ll be pissed about his brother, but he’s also smart enough to know he was lucky to get away as it is. He’s not dumb enough to try to slip back into the US, not purely based on a need for revenge.”
    Felicia hoped he was right.
    Olson glanced at the conference room. “We’re almost done with your sister. You should be able to go home in a little while.”
    His idea of a little while turned out to be another hour, but at least Logan hung around with Felicia while they waited. Now she and Stef were safe, she could fully appreciate how gorgeous he was. Not to mention what a nice guy he was. She didn’t know if it was because they’d gone through a life-and-death experience together, but standing there in the hallway talking about inconsequential everyday things, she felt like she’d known him for years.
    “You want a ride back to the grocery store where you left your car?” Logan asked after the CIA finally finished up with Stef. When Felicia gave him a questioning look, he added, “One of my buddies drove my SUV over here from the warehouse.”
    She hadn’t even thought about his SUV—or hers—until now. “In that case, yes. If it’s not too much trouble.”
    It hadn’t sounded nearly as ridiculous when she said it in her head. Like she hadn’t caused him enough already by taking his hostage.
    But Logan smiled. “No trouble at all.”
    They didn’t say much on the way back to the shopping center. Probably because they were all tired. Heck, Stef looked like she might nod off in the backseat. Felicia couldn’t blame her. It had been one hell of a day. She was just glad her sister was okay.
    Felicia turned around to face front again when she caught sight of the grocery bags on the floorboard.
    “Crap,” she said, looking at Logan. “You have ice cream back there.”
    “Damn. I completely forgot about it.” He cringed. “It’s probably a big gooey mess. The hot dogs probably didn’t fare so well either.”
    She blinked. “You eat hot dogs?”
    Even wearing a uniform, she could tell how built he was. The urge to reach out and squeeze his biceps to see if she was right was so strong, she practically had to sit on her hands to keep from giving in.
    Luckily, Logan didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he gave her an injured look. “What’s wrong with hot dogs?”
    “Nothing, I suppose,” she said. “I assumed you’d be more of a lean protein guy.”
    He let out a chuckle. “Lean protein means cooking, and cooking’s above my pay grade. Unless it’s in a microwave. I can handle that.”
    She laughed. She still couldn’t understand how he could have a body like his on a diet of hot dogs and Hot Pockets. The image gave her an idea though.
    “I