66. Meeting while Undercover - Jack Malone/Vivian Johnson- Without a trace

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by Ameliashepherdwife

by Ameliashepherdwife

Jack Malone adjusted his tie, glancing around the dimly lit bar. The air smelled of cigarette smoke and desperation. His cover was solid: a washed-up private investigator with a penchant for whiskey. But tonight, he wasn't here for a case. He was here for Vivian Johnson.

Vivian slid onto the barstool next to him, her eyes scanning the room. She was a master of disguise, her auburn hair now a sleek black bob. Her lips curved into a half-smile as she ordered a gin and tonic. "Jack," she said, her voice low and sultry. "Long time no see."

Jack leaned in, his breath brushing against her ear. "You know the rules, Viv. No real names."

She chuckled. "Right. Sorry, John." Her fingers traced the rim of her glass. "What's the assignment this time?"

Jack glanced around, ensuring no one was listening. "We've got a dirty cop in the precinct. Someone's leaking information to the mob. I've been undercover for months, but I need your help."

Vivian's eyes narrowed. "Why me?"

"Because you're the best," Jack replied. "And because I can't trust anyone else."

She sipped her drink, her gaze never leaving his. "What's the plan?"

Jack leaned even closer. "We'll pretend we're old flames. You're a grifter, fresh out of prison. I'll introduce you to the mob boss. If he trusts you, he'll spill the beans."

Vivian's fingers brushed against his thigh. "And what if he doesn't trust me?"

Jack smirked. "Then we improvise. But remember, Viv, we're both walking a tightrope here. One wrong move, and we're dead."

As the night wore on, Jack and Vivian danced their dangerous dance. They laughed, whispered secrets, and exchanged coded messages. The mob boss, a portly man named Salvatore, watched them from across the room. His eyes narrowed, suspicion growing.

"You're good," Vivian murmured, her hand sliding into Jack's pocket to retrieve a hidden microphone. "But Salvatore isn't buying it."

Jack's heart raced. "Keep him distracted. I'll plant the bug in his office."

Vivian leaned in, her lips brushing against his cheek. "Be careful, John."

In Salvatore's office, Jack fumbled with the tiny device. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he attached it to the underside of the desk. Just as he straightened up, the door swung open.

"John!" Salvatore's voice boomed. "What are you doing in my office?"

Jack's mind raced. "I was just admiring the view."

Salvatore's eyes narrowed. "Admiring, huh? You're not here for my business, are you?"

Jack's heart pounded. "Of course not. I—"

Vivian burst into the room, her eyes wide. "Salvatore! John's my ex. He's been stalking me."

Salvatore's anger shifted to concern. "Is this true?"

Jack shot Vivian a grateful look. "She's lying. We're undercover."

Vivian winked. "He's a terrible liar, Salvatore."

The mob boss hesitated, then nodded. "Fine. But if I find out you're playing games, John, you won't leave this room alive."

Back at the bar, Jack and Vivian clinked their glasses. "We did it," she whispered.

Jack grinned. "Yeah. But now we've got a mob boss on our tail."

Vivian leaned in, her lips brushing against his. "Good thing we're experts at dodging bullets."