His cell phone rang with an AC/DC tune. “Hold that promise to cut my balls off. That’s my ringtone for my man escorting the women to safety.” He hit the “answer” button to Kyle’s incoming call. “Talk to me.”

“The girls were followed. Does Kara have a way to call either of them?”

Blake glanced at Kara. “Do you have a way to call one of the girls and tell them I’m here to help?”

“Yes. We exchanged cell phone numbers.”

“Yeah,” he told Kyle. “We can call them.”

“Give them the code word ‘Midnight’.”

“Copy that,” Blake said. “We’re on it.”

“Great,” Kyle said. “That solves one problem. I can get the women in the hotel and convince them I’m their Prince Charming, but the chance whoever is following the girls saw you and Kara is big. You need to shut them down and come up with a story to cover your asses.”

“Where are you?”

“A few blocks from the hotel. When we get there, I’ll make sure the girls get inside and try to get you a plate number. The perps are in a black Chrysler sedan.”

“We’re on our way.” Blake ended the call and stepped away from Kara. “Grab that extra gun and come on. We might need it.”

“Why? What’s happening?”

“I’ll explain on the road, but let’s just say you might not have to cut my balls off if we don’t take action. Mendez might do it while you watch.”

***

Kara settled into the truck next to Blake. She ended the call with Tami, the waitress from the restaurant, having given her the code word and instructions to let Kyle help them. “Done,” she said, placing her purse, now weighted with two guns inside, between them. “The girls expect Kyle. They were about to pull into the hotel. I’m sure you heard, but I told them to park close to the door and stay close to as many people as possible.”

“I heard,” Blake said, pulling onto the road, out from under a streetlight illuminating her apartment building. “But then I expected nothing less from an FBI agent.”

She studied his profile, the dark shadows of the late night masking his expression. “What do you know about FBI agents?” she asked, thinking about his claim she knew less about him than he did about her.

“My brother’s ex-FBI.” He cut her a sideways look. “Translation: Royce isn’t on a leave of absence like you are.”

“You really just can’t stop yourself from being a smart-ass, can you?” she asked.

“It’s a gift,” he assured her.

“Well, you sure don’t waste it,” she assured him. “I assume your brother is how you managed to find out who I am.”

“It pays to know people.”