Page 24 of The B-Team

“Where is it?” Julia muttered, more to herself than anyone else. “There was an article. I know there was. Where did I see it?”

“What article, Julia?” Sarah asked softly. “Can I help you find it?”

Julia’s bleak eyes met hers. “I can’t remember. It’s like it’s on the tip of my tongue, but just out of reach. All I know is that it’s important. I just need… something.”

“Baby brain,” Claire said with sympathy. “Pregnancy stuffs up your memory.”

“Well, we need to unstuff it because I need to remember.” Julia appeared on the verge of tears again. “I know it will help us.”

“Okay.” Sarah stepped away from Ryan, picked up a whiteboard marker, and flipped one of the boards to the clean side. “Then we brainstorm, and I’m sure it will come to you.” She wrote “fourteen days” at the top of the board. “This is what made you think of the article, isn’t it?”

Julia nodded. Thankfully, the tears had stopped.

“Good.” Sarah glanced around the room. “Why don’t you all go get something to eat? This could take a while.”

“Thank you,” Julia mouthed as the room cleared.

Ryan was first back into the room, his plate piled high. “I called Rachel and told her about Fitzwater’s uncle being a government minister, and she said they’d head to his office now to talk to him.”

Sarah eyed his plate and was relieved to see some fruit on it. “If anyone can just rock up to parliament and demand that a minister sort out his nephew, it’s Rachel.”

“I also spoke to Rochelle. She’s worried her team’s going to lose their minds and do something stupid if we don’t get them out soon.” He shrugged. “Not surprised. Half of them have anger management issues or criminal records. Anyway, she’s hoping the American Embassy can pull some strings and get her team out of there.”

“I don’t see how they can help. They aren’t all American citizens.”

“No. But it’s worth a try.”

“Yes,” Sarah said as she glanced at Julia’s tear-stained face. “Anything’s worth a try.”

CHAPTER NINE

There was a good chance Abasi Otieno was going to kill his cellmate. Lunch had just been served, which meant they’d been locked up together for around three hours, and in that time, Evan MacDonald hadn’t stopped talking for more than five seconds.

Abasi glanced at the man-child. Yep, this would be the straw that broke him. Three hours locked up with the triplet who couldn’t shut up. It was bad enough having to listen to him when they were stuck in their Houston office, but being locked in a room together was a whole new level of hell. There was literally no escape—which meant no hotel suite waiting for him when he got home. No five-star menu. No concierge. No blessed silence…

“I mean,” Evan said as he paced their tiny cell, “I have a get-out-of-jail-free card. I made a deal with MI5 and the FBI that I work in America for Benson Security instead of going to jail. That deal should still be valid. MI5 trumps the Met, right?”

He didn’t wait for Abasi to reply. Which he had no intention of doing anyway, seeing as this was the twentieth time Evan had run through the same argument—with himself. The whole thing exhausted Abasi, who couldn’t even remember being twenty-four, let alone acting as young as Evan. Hell, there were dayswhen Abasi felt like he’d been born old and jaded. Guess that’s what growing up in the mob did to you.

“Sit your arse down,” he drawled at Evan. “You’re making me dizzy.”

It was as though the boy didn’t even hear him.

Abasi imagined sticking out a foot and watching Evan trip and hit his head on the tiled wall before sliding to the floor, unconscious. There would be silence. A few minutes of blessed peace before the cops came to question him. But, no, he couldn’t do it. Because he was reformed and didn’t work for the mob anymore.

Sometimes, going straight really sucked.

Evan stopped dead in the middle of the cell. “Why isn’t there a window in here? Is it some sort of torture technique? Deny the prisoners any way to tell the time? Is that it? I saw this in a movie. We’re going to break. There’s no fighting time deprivation. And what’s with all this tile?” He started to breathe faster. “It’s so they can hose the place down after they beat us, isn’t it?” He searched the floor, probably looking for a drain. “We’re going to die in here, aren’t we?”

“You might,” Abasi said, but if Evan heard, he didn’t react.

Evan started pacing again. “Five minutes with a computer, and I’d sort all of this out. That’s all I need. Five minutes.”

Abasi didn’t bother pointing out that hacking was the reason Evan was in the cell in the first place.

“I wish my mum was here.” The triplet stared woefully at the door as though it would miraculously open and she’d appear. “I called her hours ago. How long does it take to get from Glasgow to London? Not this long, right?” He focused on Abasi, a manic gleam in his eye. “My mum’s a brilliant lawyer. She’ll get us out of this.”

Yep, he’d heard that before as well. Evan seemed to be stuck in a loop.