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closed the manila folder. “But you have already agreed to our deal, Mr. Cutter.”
    Cutter feigned disinterest. “I changed my mind, Skippy. Sorry. Happens sometimes. There are just too many unknowns and too many risks for what you want to pay us. We wouldn’t want a repeat of last time, would we?”
    He continued watching the man carefully to see just how far the guy would bend. He also wanted to get a read on what might have happened the last time they’d crossed paths. Yeah, he’d just doubled the fee, too, which he didn’t expect to get, but his earlier read on Wayland had told him that the guy would check with his boss in some way, fold the hand he held, and then agree to whatever was being asked for.
    Wayland glanced at Chimp-man. Bingo. Almost on cue, the guy at the head of the table nodded just once as Cutter had predicted.
    “Done,” Wayland said, seeming relieved.
    Assholes . The very best kind—desperate assholes .
    Cutter nodded. “Okay, I’ll get it done.”
    “ We will get it done,” Morgan corrected, placing her hand on top of his and patting it.
    “Yes,” Cutter said, correcting himself. He grinned at her, trying to make it genuine. “We will get it done.” He had no intention of allowing Morgan or Gauge or anyone else to accompany him on this operation—other than the doctor. This was going to be a solo gig on his part. He’d slipped up in his wording and hoped Morgan hadn’t caught his true meaning. He was just tired . Won’t happen again.
    Now that he was done screwing these guys, he wanted to lean back and have a smoke and four fingers of expensive single-malt Scotch, but part of Morgan’s initial prodding involved him ditching his cigarettes at the airport before they’d left and drinking nothing but Diet Coke on the plane ride. If she wanted to mother him all the way back to Texas and until the wheels were up and he was on his way overseas without her— then fine. He owed her that much. He just needed to figure out how in the hell he was going to tell her and Gauge that they weren’t coming along—and make it stick.

 
    ~5~
    SIMPLY THE BEST
     
    Less than a minute after Jackson Cutter and Morgan Crow left the conference room, John Wayland adjusted his collar and turned to his boss, Anton Moray, while keeping one eye on Dr. Reyna Martinez, who was scribbling away on a yellow legal pad, seemingly minding her own business.
    Wayland tapped a pen against the folder in front of him. “I know Mr. Cutter might seem a bit brash, sir. Quite frankly, many find him to be a real prick to deal with. But, I assure you, he and his team are the best at what they do. Definitely the best that our money can buy, I mean. At least on such short notice.”
    Mr. Moray said nothing.
    “The failure that happened last time? They—I mean, we, were just unlucky, sir. That’s all. But the story was contained, so no harm, no foul, right?”
    When Mr. Moray blinked, Wayland chuckled nervously. Then Mr. Moray adjusted his cufflinks and stood. He walked to the large bank of windows and looked down.
    “You have told me all of this before, Mr. Wayland. I certainly hope that what you have told me is the truth of the matter.”
    “It is, sir.”
    “Has everything else been prepared?”
    “Yes, sir. They will have no trouble entering Russian airspace. But—well, we had planned to fly them in on one of our jets, so having them use their own method of transportation is a slight deviation from our initial plan and a loss of our direct control over them, but I can handle it. Rest assured. And—” Wayland hesitated. What he had to say next needed to be phrased with care since it could be interpreted in many ways. “Once their mission has been completed, I will personally see to it that they never bother us again.”
    The man at the window nodded only once and left the conference room.

 
    ~6~
    GUN NUTS
     
    Ceramic mug filled with coffee in hand, Cutter strode up next to Morgan and Gauge, who were stacking