The First Collision
Ben
The phone rang twice before Nic picked up, his voice smooth, detached, as if he already knew I wouldn't be calling unless shit was about to hit the fan.
"You never call unless there's a dead body or a crisis. Which one is it this time?"
"Both, probably." I exhaled, glancing toward the closed interrogation room door. "We have a problem. Or maybe an asset. I don't fucking know yet. That's why I need you here."
Nic chuckled, low and knowing. "Ah. A wildcard. Tell me more."
I shifted my weight, running a hand through my hair. "His name's Alexander Blackwood. Claims to be an intelligence inspector, Interpol, flashed a high-authority government seal like it was supposed to impress me."
"And did it?"
"Not fucking likely."
I heard the rustle of movement on Nic's end, already picturing him grabbing his coat. "Alright, you have my attention. What's your gut telling you?"
"That he's either exactly who he says he is—or the biggest con artist we've ever run into. Either way, he's a problem. And the worst part?" I glanced at the monitor showing Xander pacing inside the interrogation room, his expression unreadable. "He was in the middle of arresting our target in a high cartel case. And I believe he's just as suspicious of us to cooperate with the info"
"So, mutual distrust. Beautiful." Nic sighed dramatically. "You need me to pick him apart, don't you?"
"That, and I need to know if we can use him. Or if we need to put a bullet in his head before this gets messy."
"Charming, as always." Nic hung up.
Fifteen minutes later, Nic arrived.