Not easy.

Okay, explain, stall, and maybe he’d get through with this without incurring Dickson’s anger. The director wasn’t a bad guy if you didn’t piss him off. Venable had known him before those politicians in Congress had made the Company the bogeyman in everyone’s eyes. Hell, let those jokers try to keep to their lily-white rules when every other country played dirty. He knew what pressure Dickson was under. Besides, there were times when he needed the bastard, and he wouldn’t have Catherine make him lose that influence if he could help it.

And he wouldn’t let Harley take the flak.

“I’ll talk to him.” He took out his phone and dialed Dickson while he pulled out Catherine Ling’s file from his desk. He probably wouldn’t need it. He had recruited her when she was seventeen, and if anyone really knew her, he should.

He gazed at her photo as he waited for Dickson to answer. This one was taken on the streets of Hong Kong, where she had grown up. Part Caucasian, part Asian, she was incredibly stunning, with her dark hair, gold skin, and faintly slanted eyes. But it wasn’t her looks that made her invaluable. She was one of the finest CIA agents Venable had ever recruited: smart, tough, deadly.

And loyal. Which was going to be the sticking point in getting her to leave Eve Duncan and Joe Quinn at this time.

“Where’s Catherine Ling?” Dickson demanded the moment he picked up the call. “I told you a week ago I wanted her in Peru.”

“She’s on another assignment.”

“Screw her assignment. Replace her.”

“That’s not exactly possible.”

“You’re refusing me.” Dickson was silent. “You’re not a fool, Venable. Sometimes I think I’m surrounded by fools, but you’re not one of them. Which means you have a reason to take a chance like that. Has Ling gone rogue?”