“Yes.” His sigh was voluptuous. He dropped his hands to the button of his fly. Jesus, he wasn’t really going to strip, was he? Had Pete screwed me over, given me the real thing? “Don’t make me wait!” Quinn shot me a look, and I realized he was just making it look good.
“Sure thing, buttercup.” I couldn’t help laughing at the look he flashed me this time, but since his back was to the others, they probably thought I was just glad to get my hands on a spook.
I reached for my cuff button. This shirt had been especially designed by R&D to my specs. The button was a grip that fit between two fingers. When I pulled on it, a long, thin, pliant wire emerged from the seam, the perfect garrote.
“Now!”
There was a flash of movement, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Richard stagger sideways
