Next Exit, Dead Ahead

by CW Browning

  “So everyone who comes here...”

  “Has no satellite evidence that they were ever here,” Alina told him. “Of course, they don't necessarily know that,” she added and Michael laughed.

  “I can't imagine Ms. Walker's partner would take kindly to that,” he murmured. “He didn't strike me as having much of a sense of humor. How is Ms. Walker and company?”

  “Doing well!” Alina answered. “They've been promoted and work mainly with anti-terrorism cases now.”

  “And you?” Michael looked at her. “How's the 'consulting' business?”

  “It's fine,” Alina said guardedly, glancing at him.

  “That's a nasty cut you have on your face,” Michael said softly.

  Alina's dark eyes glinted briefly as they met his.

  “Rock climbing,” she lied smoothly. “My hand slipped and I hit a jagged piece of rock.”

  Michael's eyes narrowed and his lips twitched.

  “Rock climbing?” he repeated doubtfully.

  “Mmm.”

  “If that's what happens when your hand slips, I'm glad your foot didn't slip,” Michael said, sipping his beer.

  “How did you find me?” Alina asked after a moment of silence.

  “Not easily,” he answered. “The only reason I finally did is because I know something about your past.”

  Alina was silent again, gazing out over the backyard.

  “Why?” she finally asked. “I was going to keep in touch. I believe I told you that when I said goodbye two months ago.”

  “I promised your brother I would look out for you,” Michael retorted. “I believe I told you that when we said goodbye two months ago.”

  Alina looked at him and was forced to laugh. Michael had been in the Marines with her brother, and he had made a promise to him that he would keep an eye on Alina if anything ever happened. When Dave was killed in Iraq, that promise was put on hold for ten years when she disappeared into the military and Michael was unable to locate her. When their paths crossed again two months ago, Alina knew she was inviting a piece of her past back into her life permanently. She just hadn't expected it to be quite so persistent.

  “If you're going to try to be a big brother, I think I'll have to re-evaluate our association,” Alina decided.

  “Hardly that,” Michael said with a grin. “I'm just checking up on you to make sure you're not dodging any friendly fire this week.”

  “Well, I appreciate that.”

  “You know, I heard something from a friend in Mossad yesterday you might find interesting,” he said, crossing his ankle over his knee and looking at her. His eyes were suddenly sharp and penetrating.

  “I find it interesting that you have a friend in Mossad,” Alina retorted.

  “I'm Secret Service.” Michael shrugged. “We have friends everywhere.”

  “Except the US.”

  “Keep it up, buttercup.”

  “Tell me what you heard from Mossad,” Alina told him, grinning.

  “Someone attacked a Taliban camp a few days ago,” Michael said slowly, the laugh fading from his face. “Mossad thinks it was a US operative.”

  “Really?” Alina raised an eyebrow and suddenly wished Michael's eyes weren't quite so penetrating. “Why do they think that?”

  “He wouldn't say. He did say whoever did it either had no fear, or was insane.” Michael glanced at her and Alina was silent, a faint smile hovering around her lips. She was looking back at him with just a touch of interest on her face and Michael couldn't get any kind of read on her. “They allegedly went in alone at night and rescued a British prisoner from the center of the camp.”

  “How terribly heroic,” Alina murmured. “Who was the prisoner?”

  “That is all very hush-hush and I don't have a name,” Michael answered. “All I know is what I heard from the rumor mill: that it was someone high up in the British SIS.”

  “In that case, I doubt it was a US operative,” Alina said decidedly. “MI6 takes care of their own.”

  Michael shot her a sharp look and his lips curved reluctantly.

  “You're right,” he agreed. “Mossad must have bad information.”

  “I'm not saying that,” Alina replied calmly. “All I'm saying is it's highly unlikely the British Secret Intelligence Service would call on the US for assistance with a rescue of one of their own.”

  “Unless, of course, the operative was one of a select few in the world capable of doing it, and was already in the region,” Michael murmured silkily. Alina's eyes narrowed abruptly and she shot him a look from under her lashes. “But that would be too coincidental,” he continued smoothly, “and SIS would had to have known the operative was there. What are the odds of that?”

  Alina was uncomfortably aware of those sharp hazel-green eyes glancing at her again.

  “Remote,” she agreed.

  Michael nodded and they were silent for a moment.

  “Next time you go rock climbing, let me know,” he said suddenly. “I haven't been in a while, but I still know a few good spots.”

  Alina met his gaze squarely.

  “I'll keep it in mind.”

  Michael nodded and finished his beer.

  “I'm headed up to see my folks in Brooklyn,” he told her, setting the empty bottle down on the deck. “I'm on vacation for a week. Will you be here? Or are you traveling this week?”

  “I should be here, unless something comes up,” Alina answered with a smile.

  “I'm assuming I'm free to come and go, now that you've worked your magic on my truck and cell phone?” Michael asked, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

  Alina laughed.

  “Yes, you're free to come and go,” she told him. “Just do me a favor and don't get yourself followed.”

  “Yes, because my mother might follow me down from Brooklyn,” he retorted. “You know how Irish mothers can get.”

  “Hey, I have to be careful.” Alina shrugged. “I'm still in somewhat hostile territory.”

  “I guess I can understand that. I suppose I would feel the same way if our government had come after me,” Michael said slowly. “I'll be careful.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  “Although, if my mother finds out about you, she just might follow me down after all.” Michael winked. “She's a Giants fan.”

  “Give her my condolences,” Alina replied dryly.

  Michael laughed and was just standing when they heard the sound of tires on gravel from the front of the house. Alina sighed imperceptibly as she stood up.

  “Sounds like you have more company,” he commented. “You know, for someone who's trying to lay low, you seem to be having a busy day.”

  Alina glanced at him, her dark eyes dancing.

  “I don't understand it,” she said. “I try to be reclusive, and yet you people won't leave me alone!”

  Michael grinned and they watched as a silver BMW pulled up behind his truck, effectively blocking him in.

  “It looks like Brooklyn will have to wait a little longer,” he murmured, watching as a honey brunette got out of the car.

  “Looks like it,” Alina agreed with a sigh. “And she can talk.”

  “Do you have any more beer?”

  Angela slammed the door to her car closed, looking at the truck. She waved and started across the lawn toward the deck. She was dressed in jeans and a sweater with sheepskin boots on her feet. Her hair was pulled into the perfect ponytail and a Coach bag was thrown over her shoulder. Angela was Fall Casual today, with designer sunglasses on her face, and Alina bit back a grin.

  “Am I interrupting?” Angela called as she came across the grass. “I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop by!”

  Alina blinked. Angela hated coming here. She said it was the middle of nowhere with too many trees and bugs. There was no way she was just “in the neighborhood.”

  “Not at all.” Alina waited for Angela to reach the deck before answering. “This is an old family friend of mine. Michael, this
is Angela Bolan. Angela, this is Michael O'Reilly.”

  “Nice to meet you!” Angela held out a hand and Michael grasped it.

  “A pleasure to meet you,” he murmured.

  “I was expecting to find Mr. Hunk O' Mysterious here,” Angela said, propping her sunglasses on top her head and looking at Alina. “Did you scare him away already?”

  “Do you really think it's possible to scare him?” Alina asked, uncomfortably aware of the curious glance from Michael out of the corner of her eye.

  “I think you're fully capable of scaring Mike Myers and Freddie Kruger without breaking a sweat,” Angela retorted cheerfully. “So 'fess up. What did you do?”

  “I didn't do anything!” Alina exclaimed, feeling like she had been caught in a spotlight at night.

  “Are you the Secret Service agent that helped clear up the misunderstanding down in Washington?” Angela dropped into a chair and turned her attention suddenly on Michael.

  “Uh...” Michael glanced at Alina, looking like a deer in headlights and she felt some satisfaction in his discomfort. It was nice to be out of the hot seat. “Yes?”

  “Wonderful!” Angela set her purse on the deck and smiled at him. “Stephanie told me all about you. She didn't mention you were so big, though. You look like a Marine.”

  Alina bit back a laugh. Angela managed to make the word Marine sound like both a compliment and an accusation at the same time.

  “That's because I am,” Michael replied, leaning against the banister and crossing his arms over his chest. “I served with Dave, Lina's brother.”

  “Oh, this is that Michael!” Angela exclaimed, turning her bright green eyes back on Alina. “Didn't he get you plastered on Jameson after Dave died?”

  “Ok.” Alina turned to go into the house. “I think beers all around. Happy hour is coming early today.”

  “What did I say?” Angela asked innocently.

  “I don't think plastered is an accurate description,” Michael said thoughtfully as Alina disappeared into the house without a reply. “I think she went from sober to comatose in a few shots. She bypassed the plastered level altogether.”

  “That's entirely likely,” Angela said with a laugh. “Lina never did handle whiskey well. I remember that episode. She was hungover for two days after that night.”

  “I think I was too,” Michael admitted with a grin. “You must be one of the two friends she mentioned that night.”

  “Stephanie is the other,” Angela told him. “Ironic, you being the agent to save Stephanie's life in Washington, don't you think?”

  Michael glanced at the brunette settled comfortably in the chair, gazing up at him with a smile on her face. He wondered what, exactly, she had been told about Washington. Obviously, not the truth.

  “Well...”

  Michael paused in relief as Alina stepped back onto the deck, three bottles of Yuengling in her hands. She caught the look he sent in her direction and raised an eyebrow slightly.

  “Angela, why does Michael look uncomfortable?” she asked, handing him one of the beers. He took it thankfully.

  “I don't think he looks uncomfortable,” Angela said, accepting a beer. “I was just saying how ironic it is that he ended up being the agent to save Stephanie's life down in Washington.”

  Alina glanced at Michael in sudden understanding.

  “Ahh,” she murmured, sinking into the other chair and sipping her beer gratefully. Angela was always good for keeping things interesting, she would give her that. She cleared her throat and looked at Michael. “Stephanie told us how you tracked down the person who killed her friend down there. What was her name again?”

  “Gleason,” Michael answered, having a hard time keeping a neutral expression on his face.

  “That's it,” Alina agreed smoothly.

  “I think it's so funny how it turns out to be such a small world,” Angela told them. “I mean, you working on that and then being in a position to help Stephanie and John, and all the time being an old friend of Lina's. Funny how things work out.”

  “That's the truth,” Michael agreed, sipping his beer.

  A cellphone started ringing and Angela sighed. She set her beer down and fished through her purse for her blackberry.

  “Excuse me,” she said, pulling it out and looking at the screen. “I have to take this.”

  She got up and went down the steps. As she strolled across the grass, Michael took the opportunity to look at Alina sharply.

  “What was she told?” he demanded in a low voice.

  “I was never in DC,” Alina answered, her voice just as low. “We told Angela that Stephanie went down there to get some answers on her dead friend and you were already investigating. When attempts were made on Stephanie's life, you put her and John into a safe house and found the person trying to kill her.”

  “And Johann?”

  “She doesn't know the two are related.” Alina got up and joined him at the banister, watching as Angela spoke on her phone near the trees at the edge of the grass. “In the Spring, when Johann and the Engineer were here, Angela was shot. She took a bullet through her shoulder and it went out her chest. She doesn't know who the bullet was meant for or why, and she doesn't know I was anywhere near Washington, DC two months ago.”

  “Does she know what you do?” Michael turned to face Alina, leaning on the banister and watching her with his penetrating gaze. For the first time since he'd known her, Alina avoided making eye contact with him.

  “She doesn't need to know what I do,” she told him, her voice low and steady. “As far as she knows, I do security consulting and it involves a lot of traveling. That's all she needs to know.”

  Michael studied her thoughtfully for a moment before lifting his beer to his lips and turning his attention back to the woman on the phone near the trees.

  “So I'm the hero in Angela's version of Washington,” he said after a moment.

  “Something like that.” Alina glanced at him, a faint smile on her lips. “It was the least I could do.”

  “Oh, you still owe me,” Michael informed her. “But at least now I know I'm not the only one you lie to.”

  “Ouch,” Alina murmured. “Low blow, but fair.”

  “And Mr. Hunk O' Mysterious?” Michael asked as Angela turned back toward the deck. “Am I right in guessing the SEAL's a-shore?”

  “You know, I'm starting to think maybe settling in New Jersey wasn't such a good idea, after all,” Alina muttered with a sigh. “I don't think I like the scrutiny.”

  Michael burst out laughing and turned to her.

  “Honey, there's nowhere you can go where you can hide from us now,” he told her ruthlessly. “For better or worse, you're stuck with all of us.” He glanced at Angela, watching as she tripped across the grass toward them in her designer clothes. “Is she always like that?”

  Alina grinned. Her eyes shifted to Angela and a glint of something resembling fondness crossed her face. In an instant, the look was gone and, if Michael hadn't been watching her so closely, he would have missed the flash of emotion altogether.

  “Oh, you haven't seen anything yet,” she informed him.

  Chapter Five

  Alina slid the door to the deck closed with a sigh. Michael and Angela were both gone, leaving within minutes of each other. Angela had led a lively discussion ranging from Michael's marital status to Alina's fear of commitment. By the time she finished, Michael looked dazed and Alina felt like she had weathered a storm of bullets from the enemy. She wasn't sure who was more shell-shocked: her or Michael. When Angela finally finished her beer and got up to leave, she announced how thrilled she was that Alina and Michael had reconnected. She seemed to think it was something Alina desperately needed.

  Turning from the back door, Alina crossed the living room to the hallway. She didn't think she needed to reconnect with her past, but if Angela kept this up, she did think she would be looking for a reason to get the hell out of Jersey!

  Retrieving her laptop
from the den, Alina carried it into the living room, sinking down onto the couch. The house was blessedly silent, with only the ticking of the clock coming from the front of the house and the refrigerator humming from the kitchen. She flipped the laptop open and reopened the databases, pulling up Jessica Nuñez again.

  The silence was broken a few minutes later when her cell phone began ringing. Alina closed her eyes briefly and took a slow, deep breath. She reached into her cargo pocket and pulled out the phone.

  “Yes?”

  “It's me,” Stephanie said. “You busy?”

  “Would it matter if I said yes?”

  “Not really,” Stephanie answered. “Where's Damon?”

  Alina's eyes narrowed and she closed her laptop.

  “Not here,” she said. “Why?”

  “So he's roaming around loose?”

  “You might want to rephrase that,” Alina said softly, a dangerous edge to her voice.

  There was a short silence on the phone.

  “Remember how you said that, as far as you knew, his visit wasn't 'business-related?'” Stephanie finally asked, her voice a little less aggressive. “Do you still stand by that statement?”

  “I do,” Alina said with a frown. “What happened?”

  “We're in Mt. Holly, at the old prison on High Street,” Stephanie told her. “Why don't you come up? This is something you have to see to believe. Maybe you can help me figure it out. God knows I'm at a loss.”

  She disconnected and Alina lowered her phone slowly, her eyes resting on her laptop thoughtfully.

  Jessica Nuñez would have to wait.

  John handed the evidence bag to a tech and turned to jog up the steps from the basement. He nodded to Karl, the night guard who had taken up a position at the base of the stairway leading to the second floor of the prison.

  “Agent Walker upstairs?” John asked him, one foot already on the first step.

  “She just came down,” Karl answered with a nod down the hallway. “She went into the welcome center.”

  “Thanks.”

  John turned and strode down the hall toward the room in the center of the first floor where Karl had indicated. The welcome center was the domain of the museum guide. It stood opposite the front door, and housed the register and small gift shop for the museum. He glanced in as he passed one of the two entry doors and found it empty. Frowning, he continued on down the hall. As he passed the front door to the prison, he looked outside and came to an abrupt stop. The door was set partially ajar so the agents could come and go easily without giving anyone from the sidewalk a clear view of the activity inside the prison. John watched through the opening as a woman dressed in black ducked under the caution tape at the sidewalk.