Elimination

by Jackie D.

  When she finally made it to the old farmhouse, she waited, knowing someone would be out to get her soon. It only took a few minutes before a woman she recognized from the pictures came out from behind the house.

  “Agent Prey, I’m Special Agent Tyler Monroe. Thanks for coming all the way out here,” she said, sticking her hand out.

  Dylan uncrossed her arms and took the offered hand. “I didn’t really have a choice.”

  Tyler gave her a smile and motioned to the house. “Well, thanks anyway. Let’s talk inside.”

  They walked around to the back of the house, and Tyler pulled up an iron door from the ground. They descended the stairs into a well-equipped room. There were monitors on every wall, computers humming, and several words scribbled onto a whiteboard in the corner. At the table in the center of the room sat the other women Dylan had seen in the bios from Tony.

  Dylan nodded at them. “I know who you are, so no need to introduce yourselves. I just need to know why I’m here. I don’t like risking my cover, and I don’t like team projects. So, what’s the deal?”

  “Well, I like her.” Caden smacked the table.

  Brooke didn’t seem as enthusiastic as Caden about her approach. She glared at Dylan. “Look, we know that you’ve been undercover out here for quite a while, so you may not be up to speed with everything happening in the United States, so let me fill you in. The leader of the National Socialist Movement, a white nationalist organization, attempted to assassinate both the president and the vice president. That’s after her team of goons broke into the Farm and compromised several CIA assets. Oh, and she tried to have each of us killed on more than one occasion. She’s hiding somewhere here in Russia, and we intend to bring her back to face trial.”

  Dylan ran her hand through her hair and took a seat at the table. She had seen snippets on the news about what was happening back in the States. She knew about the organization Brooke had mentioned, but she didn’t know they’d narrowed it down to one person being at the helm. “Do you know who she is? People have a pretty easy time disappearing here.”

  Emma hit two buttons on the computer, and a picture appeared on the screen in front of Dylan. “Yes, Carol O’Brien.”

  Dylan rubbed her chin and cursed to herself. “The Speaker of the House, Carol O’Brien? Jesus Christ.” She felt her blood run cold, unsure if it was her surprise that so much had happened back home without her knowledge or that she knew she really had no choice but to help them.

  “Is that a problem?” Jennifer asked.

  Dylan leaned back in her chair. “A person with that kind of political notoriety just doesn’t slip between the cracks. The mob, the Russian government, or both, are involved in hiding her. To get any of you near her is going to require me to use up all my favors, all the trust I’ve built, and will most likely cause me to give up my cover. I’ve been working on this assignment for years, and I’m so close to getting to the top. If I can get one of the top players to flip, it would mean intel that we’ve never had access to before. It would mean being able to save the lives of hundreds, if not thousands of people stuck in human trafficking, drug disbursement, and other despicable activities. It would make a real difference in the world.” She switched positions, putting her arms on the table, and intertwining her fingers. “I assume if there were another way, you wouldn’t be here?”

  Tyler looked at her for a long moment while the rest of the women watched Tyler, clearly waiting for her to take the lead. “I understand your trepidation. You’ve poured your heart, soul, and safety into this assignment. I get it, truly. But believe me when I tell you, if we had another way to get her, we would. I just don’t see a path to her without you. We need your help.”

  Dylan was surprised by the candor in Tyler’s statement. This line of work was filled with overly inflated egos, people who believed the fate of the free world lay solely in their hands alone. But that’s not what she saw in Tyler’s eyes when she spoke. She saw honestly, loyalty, with a dash of recklessness for good measure.

  “Okay,” Dylan said.

  “Okay? Like you’ll help us, or okay like pound salt?” Caden asked from the other side of the table.

  Dylan couldn’t help but smile. She instantly liked Caden. “Okay, I’ll help you. With one catch—we do things my way. I know these people, this area, and what the real-life risk is if we get caught. These guys…” She blew out a breath. “They’re animals. They won’t think twice about cutting you open and sending your heart to your loved ones back home if they find out who you are and what we’re doing.”

  Dylan saw both Brooke and Jennifer bristle at her words. Caden’s and Tyler’s responses came in unison. “Deal.”

  Emma, who had said nothing until this moment, had seemed to anticipate her response. Her voice surprised Dylan; she’d expected it to be quiet and maybe a bit timid, but that’s not the sound she heard. Emma’s voice was raspy. Dylan found the contrast both fascinating and a little sexy.

  “I’m going to need access to your files. I don’t mean the files the CIA keeps either, I mean your files.” Emma tapped her pen against her keyboard and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

  Dylan put her feet up on the desk and crossed her legs. “I don’t keep anything from my superiors. You and I both know that would be against regulations. I’d lose my job.”

  Emma cocked her head to the side, seeming to appraise her. “Bullshit.”

  Dylan crossed her arms and tried to read Emma’s expression. There was no challenge in her statement. “Which part, exactly, is bullshit?” Dylan tried not to smile at Emma, who seemed so resolute in her appraisal of the situation.

  Emma shrugged. “All of it. You absolutely keep files that your superiors don’t know about because that’s what good CIA Agents do. Also, you’re not worried about getting fired. The arrogance is written all over your face. Lastly, the sly smile you keep flashing in my direction may work on other women, but it won’t work on me. I know your type.”

  The boldness surprised Dylan, and from the look on Emma’s face, surprised her as well. Dylan couldn’t help but smile. “What type is that, exactly?”

  Emma’s face flushed, either from embarrassment or surprise, Dylan couldn’t tell which. “I, um…”

  Whatever she was going to say was cut off by Caden. “So, what’s the plan, Prey? What do you need from us?”

  Dylan had to force herself to pull her eyes off Emma to answer. “Nothing.” She tapped the table and stood. “Let me see what I can find out before we formulate any kind of plan.”

  Tyler stood, mimicking Caden. “When can we expect to hear back from you?”

  Dylan studied Tyler. There was no accusation, no hint of annoyance, the question was precisely what it seemed. “Give me two days.”

  Tyler nodded, although Dylan could see the rest of her team wasn’t as understanding. She chose to ignore them and walked past the other three women sitting around the table. However, when Emma looked up at her, she made sure to wink. She enjoyed the way Emma looked away, her face turning pink. Dylan smiled to herself, enjoying the premise of throwing the computer hotshot off her game.

  When she had finally gotten out of earshot, she pulled her phone out and located the familiar contact. He answered on the fourth ring. “Sasha, where are you?”

  Dylan hurried along the path, hoping to catch the next bus. “Nikolai, I was visiting a friend. I need to speak to you.”

  He was quiet for a moment, and Dylan was sure he was going to put her off, but he let out a long sigh. “Fine. Meet me at Chemodan.” He hung up the phone.

  Dylan made it to the bus just in time. She was going to need every moment of this trip to formulate a plan on how to approach Nikolai without raising suspicion while still getting the information she needed. Nikolai, by nature, was untrusting and paranoid. She’d have to choose her words carefully. She leaned her head against the window, hoping she’d made the right choice in helping. If not, she’d pay with her life.

  * * *r />
  Emma stared at her keyboard, still unsure what had come over her. It wasn’t like her to be outgoing in any way, but you’d never know that by the way she had just interacted with Dylan. Emma had consumed every bit of information she could find on Dylan before she’d arrived, but it hadn’t prepared her for the presence Dylan commanded. Dylan gave off an aura of strength, independence, and a little bit of mischief. On top of that, she was painfully attractive, and her pictures hadn’t done her any justice.

  Emma rolled her neck, thinking about the way her body had reacted under Dylan’s appraisal. Her mouth had grown dry, and her hands had become clammy. The visceral reaction wasn’t one Emma had been prepared for and her head was still swimming a bit.

  “Emma?” Brooke must have said her name several times because her face was etched with concern. “You okay?”

  Emma blinked at her and sat up a little straighter. “Yes, sorry. Did you need something?”

  “I was going to go make lunch for everyone up in the main house. Did you want to come?” Brooke asked.

  “Yes, I could use some fresh air, too.” Emma pushed away from her computer station and followed Brooke out of the room.

  Once inside the house, Brooke started pulling ingredients for sandwiches out of the fridge and placing them on the counter. “What do you think of Prey?” Brooke asked while she laid bread out on a large tray.

  Emma unscrewed the tops of the mayonnaise and mustard. “I think she’s good at her job. Her list of accolades and awards is unlike anything I’ve ever seen for a CIA agent at her age.”

  Brooke placed turkey on several of the pieces of bread and roast beef on the others. “All true, but what does your gut tell you?”

  Emma stopped putting condiments on the bread and looked at Brooke. “I don’t know what you mean. All the data supports my original analysis.”

  Brooke smiled at her. “How very formal of you.” She bumped Emma with her shoulder. “I know you’re new to these team assignments, but I’m not. Tyler is going to be following her into whatever comes next and I’m just wondering if you find her trustworthy. Sometimes my opinions are skewed because of my feelings for Tyler.”

  That made sense. “You want to know if I think Prey will be reckless.”

  Brooke nodded. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m asking.”

  Emma placed several pieces of lettuce on the sandwiches. “Aren’t they all a little reckless? I mean, I’ve read Tyler’s and Caden’s files; they’d run directly into a burning building if there were even a glimmer of a reason for them to do so.”

  Brooke’s jaw clenched. “You aren’t wrong.”

  Emma wasn’t good at this whole friendship thing and got the feeling she might have added to Brooke’s discontent, which wasn’t something she wanted. “Their files also indicate that they’re the best at what they do, the very best.”

  Brooke gave her a rather sad smile. “You aren’t wrong about that, either.”

  Emma chewed on her bottom lip, unsure how to phrase her next question. She decided just to go for it. “Is it worth it? I mean, is the concern, the not knowing, the late nights, the near-death encounters—is Tyler worth it?”

  Brooke turned around and leaned against the counter. She used the back of her hand to wipe an errant hair out of her eye and looked thoughtfully at Emma. “Yes.” She smiled and looked up at the ceiling. “Tyler isn’t just the very best at her job. She’s the very best person I’ve ever known and an even better partner. She’s strong, confident, and unwavering in everything she does, but she’s also thoughtful, kind, gentle, and loyal. She makes me want to be better, to do better. She brings out the very best in me.” She turned back around and took a deep breath, chuckling to herself. “Wow. Sorry about that. It seems I got a little emotional there for a minute.”

  Emma watched Brooke blush, and she couldn’t help but smile. “You’re fortunate. I’ve never felt like that about anyone or anything. I wonder if most people do?”

  Brooke cut up the sandwiches and went to work on cutting up apples. “God, I hope so.” She glanced over at Emma. “Have you ever been in love?”

  Emma shook her head vehemently. “Me?” She laughed. “No.” She bit down on one of the apple slices Brooke had laid out. “You’d be underwhelmed by my dating résumé. I’ve only kissed three people and had sex with one.” Emma took another bite of the apple. “Sex was awkward and terrible. I honestly don’t understand why people are so obsessed with it.”

  Brooke raised an eyebrow. “At the risk of sounding like an obnoxious guy, you were probably with the wrong man.”

  Emma shook her head. “Not a man. I’ve known that I like women since I was seven. It was science, really. I’ve never had any interest in men. I find them to be overly aggressive and unappealing.” She turned away, remembering that she tended to overshare her internal dialog.

  Brooke laughed and picked up the tray. “I couldn’t agree with you more. Let’s get these out to everyone before Caden starts to really annoy Jennifer.”

  Emma fell in step next to Brooke. “They’re a peculiar pairing.”

  Brooke nodded. “They’re good for each other though. They balance one another.”

  Emma thought for a moment. Maybe she had been doing the calculations wrong in her head. Perhaps she had been focused on finding someone like her instead of someone different from herself. The Law of Polarity. Why didn’t I think of that? Her thoughts went to Dylan and the way her body had reacted to her. Her stomach flipped just thinking of the way her green eyes had traced over her face and the desire she’d had to touch her. She shook her head. That type of intensity might be a bit too much. It seemed dangerous to allow such strong emotions to someone’s physical appearance to grab such a foothold in your psyche. No, she’d need to start with something much more straightforward, more comfortable to manage. She had a feeling Dylan Prey would be anything but easy to manage.

  Chapter Eight

  Dylan paced in the waiting area of the restaurant. She wouldn’t be allowed admittance into Nikolai’s private area until he deemed fit. She examined the old pictures that hung against the wallpaper. She picked up a few pamphlets that sat next to the door and flipped through them absently. Nikolai loved making her wait, and she had no choice but to do as he pleased.

  “You can go back,” the short, plump woman said to her in Russian.

  Nikolai was at his regular table, laughing boisterously with another gentleman, whom she didn’t recognize. “Sasha, you made it.”

  She plastered on her very best smile. “Yes, I need to speak with you.”

  He motioned to the empty seat at his table and slid over a glass of kvass. Dylan hated the cider; it was made from fermented rye bread, and the tartness made her lips pucker. She took the drink anyway and sipped on it.

  “What is so important that you wanted to interrupt my meal?” Nikolai lit a cigar and inhaled deeply. Smoking had been banned in restaurants for two years, but that didn’t matter to him.

  “You’re keeping me out of the loop Nikolai, and I want in.” She leaned forward on the table, hoping to drive home her point.

  He stared at her for a moment, squinting. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  She reached across the man sitting next to her and pulled the bottle of vodka over. She finished the rest of the kvass, and then proceeded to pour the clear liquor into the empty glass. “You think my guys don’t talk to me, Nikolai? You think I don’t know about the person we’re hiding?” She took a large gulp of the vodka. “I’ve been a good brigadier for you, but I want more.”

  He blew the cigar smoke into her face. “I owe you nothing, Sasha.”

  She knew her face didn’t show the fear that bubbled in her belly. She was far too good at her job for that, but it was there all the same. Nikolai could end her with a single phone call; there was a list of people willing and eager to take her place. She was expendable; she had no disillusions about that. Still, she needed more information.

  “Let me
take over the security detail, so I can prove to the pakhan that I’m ready for more.” She took another large gulp of vodka, partially to seem unfazed and partly to calm her nerves.

  He studied her. She saw rage in his eyes but also a hint of admiration. Her ears were buzzing, and she tried not to falter under his scrutiny. Finally, he pulled a notepad from his jacket pocket, jotted a few words down, and slid it across the table to her.

  She put the paper in her pocket without looking at it and was relieved to see her hands weren’t shaking. “Thank you, Nikolai.”

  “If you fuck this up, it will cost you your life, Sasha. Don’t thank me yet.” He blew a massive plume of smoke up toward the ceiling.

  She nodded and pushed herself up from the table. “See you soon.”

  She got back to her car and pulled the piece of paper from her wallet. Just as she assumed, it was an address. She typed the location into her GPS and set off in the direction it dictated. She made it to Chapaevsky Lane and blew out a long whistle. Who knew being a white supremacist paid so well?

  She walked through the expansive doors made of wood and glass and up to the man sitting behind a desk. “I’m here to see Anna Golubev.” She knew the name Nikolai had written on the paper was fake, but it would lead her to Carol O’Brien.

  The man looked down at a piece of paper he had in front of him and nodded. “Floor twenty-three, number forty-two.”

  Dylan wasn’t sure exactly what to expect, but it definitely wasn’t the five-foot-nothing woman who opened the door. She looked much taller on TV. Carol O’Brien looked at her with a small amount of anger and trepidation.

  “Well, don’t just stand there, come in.” Carol retreated into her apartment.