Page 73 of Protecting You
“Does your head hurt? Should we go to the hospital?”
“I’m fine.” He twisted off the cap and sipped. He was tempted to gulp the whole thing, but he knew better. Small sips until the nausea passed.
“Don’t worry.” Malcolm’s voice was flat, his gaze flicking in the rearview. “He’s got a thick skull.”
Callan ignored him, speaking to Alyssa. “I’m okay.”
She smirked, disbelieving, then faced forward again as they drove into Boston.
“Check the floor back there,” Malcolm said. “Figured you’d need a few things.”
Callan found a black nylon bag and pulled out two phones and chargers. A Glock and holster.
And, thank God, a bottle of ibuprofen. He swallowed four, then removed his sweatshirt, suddenly sweltering despite the cold air. He attached the holster over his T-shirt.
Alyssa turned to see what he was doing.
He winked. “Eyes forward, Paris. Though I know it’s a sight to behold.”
“I’m sure you think so.” She turned forward again.
“You have your wallet, right?” Malcolm asked.
“Caleb’s wallet, yeah. And I stuck Alyssa’s into my bag before we left.”
“Oh, thanks,” she said.
He nodded. “My real creds are at my apartment.”
“Which is secure,” Malcolm said. “No indication anybody knows who you really are, but we’re keeping an eye on it.” To Alyssa, he said, “And your place too. We still don’t know who broke in, but I’ve got a theory. I’ve reached out to sister agencies.”
“You don’t think it was Charles’s people? I mean, Ghazi’s?”
“I don’t.” Malcolm didn’t expound or explain, and for once, Alyssa didn’t ask.
Callan powered up one of the cell phones. He connected to his accounts and saw no missed messages from his family. All was well there, it seemed.
Guilt and shame pressed in, but he shook them off. He’d survived. Nobody would have to tell his daughter that her father had gone and gotten himself killed.
They crossed the Charles River into Cambridge, and Malcolm stopped on a side street a couple of blocks from the CIA field office. He shifted into Park. “Leave this car near your apartment. I have another set of keys.” He climbed out.
When Callan joined him outside, the cold air bit against his damp skin, and he shivered.
Malcolm’s eyes narrowed. “You okay to drive? You don’t look so good.”
“I’ll drive,” Alyssa said. “Where are we going?”
“You two are getting out of Dodge.” To Callan, he said, “I expect a full report ASAP. As in, within the hour.”
Callan shook his hand. “Thank you, sir.” He wasn’t one to give much deference to his superiors, but for all Malcolm’s anger earlier, the man had saved their hides tonight.
He nodded, said goodbye to Alyssa, then hurried through the chilly April air and turned at the corner.
“If we’re leaving this car, what are we driving?”
“Mine. You sure you’re okay to drive?”
She moved close, right into Callan’s space, and looked from one of his eyes to the other. “Your pupils aren’t dilated, and they’re the same size.”
