Harold's POV
Maybe whoever sent those hired guns never planned on them surviving the job anyway.
After eliminating the two threats, I continued driving toward the rendezvous point where Malcolm and his team were waiting.
Malcolm had caught a red-eye flight to Heather the moment he received yesterday's intel, bringing Alistair and Johnson along.
When our vehicle rolled up intact, the group immediately surrounded us.
"Mr. Bailey."
"Phoebe."
Johnson's voice carried obvious worry. "Any problems getting here?"
"A few bumps in the road," Phoebe answered casually. "We handed out a couple of explosive parting gifts."
Johnson's face darkened as he rolled up his sleeves. "Those bastards had the balls to set up an ambush!"
"Easy there. We already turned them into confetti," Phoebe said, reaching over to calm Johnson's tensed arm, but I caught her wrist first.
I flashed a grin. "Sweetheart, there are boundaries between men and women. Especially now that you're a married woman."
