by Lara Adrian
Still, Nick knew to be careful. There was always a chance that an enemy was coercing a Phoenix to reveal his secrets by whatever means necessary. Not even a Phoenix was immune to torture. Therefore, he’d take all necessary precautions before he set the meet. He wouldn’t go in unarmed.
But he had to go. He couldn’t let this opportunity go by. For too long he’d been searching for his fellow agents so he could finally unravel the mystery in his darkest premonition. He needed to stop whatever was going to happen. It was big. He knew that instinctively, bigger than what he could handle himself.
He needed help.
Help only another trusted Phoenix could provide. It was worth the risk.
14
The message had been clear. Michelle was to go to a specific spot in Constitution Gardens tonight and record what she saw. There would be a clandestine meeting. If she performed well, Smith had texted her, maybe she’d even be rewarded for it. Michelle scoffed at that. What kind of reward was Smith thinking of? To kill her quickly should the people who were meeting clandestinely in some deserted corner of Washington discover her and try to torture her to tell them what she knew—which was nothing—so she wouldn’t have to suffer?
Great. It was bad enough that she had to spy on some hacker online, now Smith actively put her in harm’s way by sending her out on a nightly mission. Hell, she wasn’t trained for this. Why didn’t he use one of his covert agents—which he surely had, Nick being one of them!—or do the dirty job himself? No, he had to use a weak woman for that, one who didn’t even know karate or any other form of self-defense. A fat chance in hell—that’s all she’d have when it came to survival.
Damn it.
In her hiding place, behind a bush, she kept quiet though she wanted to scream at the injustice of it all. Wasn’t it enough that Smith had assigned her a watcher?
Michelle had arrived under cover of darkness only moments after the sun had gone down and it was dark enough so nobody would notice her creeping around and get suspicious. Hours before the presumed meeting was to take place, she was already waiting, poised to record whatever she saw.
Meanwhile, the mosquitoes swirled around her, eating her alive. It hadn’t cooled down despite the thunderstorm the night before. In her black, long-sleeved T-shirt and her dark pants, she felt too hot and woefully overdressed, though it meant that the mosquitoes only caught her hands, neck, and face, although she could swear that some were trying to work their way up her pant leg. She slapped at her lower leg, where she felt the sting, and cursed under her breath.
Bloodsuckers!
There were still tourists around, taking pictures of the various monuments in the park, which were lit up by strong spotlights. Lincoln Memorial, of which she had a good view across the Reflecting Pool, was one of them. People were taking pictures on the stairs, selfies with the sitting statue of President Lincoln behind them, or group photos, asking other tourists for help. But the longer she waited, the less people she saw. The tourists finally withdrew, returning to their hotels or other, more interesting sights by night.
Michelle crouched between the bushes, looking around herself. She didn’t want to miss the arrival of the mysterious strangers or be spotted by them.
The silence in the large park was eerie. There was the sound of birds fluttering in the dark, and the annoying buzzing of some overeager flies and mosquitoes, but all human-made sounds were in the distance. Cars driving on Constitution and Independence Avenues, others crossing Arlington Memorial Bridge. In the dark, the sounds carried far. But they were also soothing, almost comforting, because they confirmed that normal life continued—while her life was taking a turn for the worse. She knew it. She could sense it in her bones, feel it by the way the hairs at her nape stood up as if to protest.
She shouldn’t be here. She should be on a plane to South America, fake passport in hand. But she was still waiting for that fake passport. Her contact—recommended by an old friend from Anonymous—had urged her to be patient. If the passport needed to pass federal inspection at a US airport, it needed to be perfect. He couldn’t rush it, but he’d promised to deliver it in two days, just before her ultimatum with the mysterious Mr. Smith ran out. She would be out of here before he could throw her into prison. And he would, given half a chance, because the hacker she’d been so close to nailing, had gone dark. The entire week, she’d not seen his digital signature anywhere. As if he knew she was onto him.
The sound of a twig breaking shattered the silence and made her snap her head in the other direction. She tried to adjust her eyes, searching in the dark for the person who’d created that sound, but saw nothing. The area it had come from was too dark—not lit up like the monuments around her. She would need night-vision goggles. Smith should have thought of that. Clearly, her blackmailer wasn’t quite as smart as he pretended to be. How was she going to see anything, and know what to record? Hell, her cell phone wouldn’t be able to pick up anything if she didn’t even know which direction to point it in.
There, another sound! This time, it was clearly footsteps. Their echo was difficult to pinpoint. Was the sound coming from the right or the left? She shifted, and her T-shirt got snagged on a branch. She jerked back. The ripping sound resonated in the silence.
Shit!
~ ~ ~
The person hiding in the bushes was no Phoenix, Nick assessed immediately. He was close enough that he would have been able to sense the special aura a Phoenix gave off. It was something he’d discovered early on after he’d been recruited by Henry Sheppard. He’d instantly felt a kindred spirit with the older man, as if he’d known him a long time.
Sheppard had told him that it was like recognizing like. One Phoenix recognizing another. It was a survival instinct. Nature had made sure that some of its special children knew each other and could come to each other’s aid should it be necessary.
Nick had no illusions that the person hiding in the darkness meant him harm and wasn’t just a lost tourist. He recognized that the stranger was holding his breath, trying not to be heard. But he couldn’t see his would-be assailant, because the area was pitch-black, while only a few yards away there was sufficient light from the monuments and the city itself to see outlines and shapes.
Not knowing what training the person lying in wait had, Nick took no chances. One wrong move and he could have a bullet in his brain or a knife in his heart. And he was rather fond of his life and not ready to trade it in for an eternal sojourn in a wooden box six feet under.
Nick had undergone basic CIA training at The Farm, training that encompassed self-defense, hand-to-hand combat, and weaponry, even before he’d been recruited into the Phoenix program by Sheppard. He’d been selected by a CIA recruiter for his computer skills right out of college and assigned to data security at Langley a full two years before Henry Sheppard had taken notice of him. Even after being drafted in the Phoenix program, he’d continued to work at Langley in his less secret capacity as a data security analyst.
Nick had become particularly fond of his Glock, a handgun that handled well and was currently holstered under his left arm, ready to be deployed at a moment’s notice.
Setting one foot in front of the other, treading lightly so as not to make any sounds, Nick stalked toward the copse of trees and bushes. He circled to the left, slowly approaching. His breathing was even and silent, his eyes trained on the target in front of him. While night-vision goggles would have come in handy and given him a definite advantage, he knew he could make up for this lack of equipment with his other senses—including his impeccable sharpshooting skills.
Calmly, he reached into his jacket and pulled the Glock from its holster. A few more steps. He was close.
A rustle in the bushes as if the assailant was moving, shifting, sensing that he’d been discovered.
But it was too late. Nick was already onto him. Behind him. Only a few feet now. Nick lifted his leg, set it down a foot ahead of him. He felt the twig beneath his sole too late and cracked it. T
he sound echoed in the night.
A sharp intake of air was the response, then a sudden movement right in front of him: the stranger spinning around to face him. He wasn’t tall for a man, average in fact, and lightly built.
Nick lunged forward, slamming the man into the tree. A split second later, he pressed the Glock’s cold barrel to the would-be assailant’s forehead, cocking it.
“One wrong move, and this bullet will make mush out of your brain.”
A loud gasp, the sound too high-pitched to come from a man, startled him for a second. Just as the uncontrollable trembling did.
“Nick! Don’t!”
Shock charged through his bones, paralyzing him for an instant. But then his training kicked in.
“Michelle!” he ground out. He hadn’t expected her, though he should have.
“Oh God, thank you,” she let out, seemingly relieved. “Please, take that gun away. You’re scaring me.”
“Am I?” It could all be a ploy to get him to lower his gun so she could take him out. He moved closer. “Are you armed?”
“Armed? No!”
He used his free hand to frisk her, first her front, then he reached behind her to check if she’d tucked a gun into the back of her jeans. She hadn’t.
“What are you doing?” Panic laced her voice. “Nick, tell me what’s going on!”
“I was gonna ask you the same question.” He moved closer now, close enough so he could make out her facial features.
Yeah, it was definitely Michelle, dressed all in black like a ninja, her dark blond hair hidden under a scarf she’d tied at her nape. At least she hadn’t blackened her cheeks with shoe polish.
“I was just, uh, you know, going for a walk,” she mumbled.
He pressed her harder against the tree trunk. “Try again, honey!”
She pulled her shoulders down, puffing up her chest. “I swear! I was just minding my own business, and then I heard something, so I figured, I’d hide. You know, there are muggers in the park at night.”
He scoffed. “Yeah, right. Then why the fuck would you take a walk in a dark park at night when it’s so dangerous, huh? Care to explain that?”
“Well, then what are you doing here? Spying on me?”
“Don’t try to turn the tables on me. We both know what’s going on here. You set me up to come to the park.”
“To do what?” she spat, defiance spewing from those lips he’d devoured the night before.
“To kill me,” he ground out, shoving his face practically into hers. Her blue eyes sparkled now, picking up light from somewhere in the vicinity as she glared at him.
Michelle gnashed her teeth. “With what, you idiot? Maybe with the gun you’re still pointing at my head?”
He had to give her that: she wasn’t caving easily, more proof that she was smart and out to trick him.
“Now get off me!” She tried to push him, but he was heavier and stronger, and had no intention of relinquishing his superior position just because she was a woman.
“Not until you tell me what you’re doing here. Were you the one setting up the meet?”
“What meet?”
The way her eyes shifted at her words, he knew she was covering, buying herself some time to get out of her predicament.
“You know what meet.” He looked her up and down. “Of course it was you, wasn’t it? Who else would know how to navigate the Deep Web but a former member of Anonymous?”
Her chin dropped and air rushed from her lungs. She tried to catch herself, but it was too late; she’d already given herself away.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t you?” With his free hand, he reached for her necklace and pulled on it, until the pendant emerged from underneath her black long-sleeved T-shirt. “Odd choice for a piece of jewelry, don’t you think?”
Her eyes narrowed. “I can wear what I like.”
“Sure you can. And I can draw whatever conclusions from it that I like. And that, my sweet, is a Guy Fawkes mask, the symbol of Anonymous. Which you were a member of. What happened? The authorities catch you when you were a hacker?”
“I was never a hacker! And you have no right to question me. You’re the one who’s got something to hide, not I.” She motioned to the gun he was still pointing at her head. “You’re the one with the gun, remember?”
“And that is exactly the reason why you should be answering my questions truthfully and not dishing up any more lies. I’m growing impatient, Michelle, and you know what happens when I get impatient?”
She stared at him quizzically.
“My hand starts to tremble. It’s a little tick, you know.”
“You wouldn’t.”
He shook his head. Michelle had courage, the kind of courage that could get her killed one day. “Don’t test me. Tell me the truth, Michelle, or would you rather I guessed what you’re up to?”
“Be my guest!”
“Well, then.” He loosened his hold on her by a bit while he lowered the barrel to her neck. “You were a hacker associated with Anonymous. You got caught at some point, hacking into some government agency or another. You’re talented. So talented in fact that they made you an offer: to work for them. How am I doing so far?”
She pressed her lips together.
“Good. I’m on the right track then. Shall I continue, or would you rather take over and tell me the rest?”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
He slammed his fist into the tree trunk next to her head. She flinched.
“Goddamn it, Michelle, I swear I’m going to strangle you if don’t drop your stubbornness and tell me what I want to know. Don’t you get it? This is not a game. Lives are at stake here.” He moved in, bringing his face to hover only inches from hers. “Were you the one to set up the meet?”
She shook her head, trembling now. “I was told to record whoever was showing up here.” Tears brimmed at her eyes. “I didn’t know it was going to be you.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, Michelle was talking. Softening his voice, he asked, “The person you work for, who is he with? CIA? NSA?”
She gave a helpless shrug. “I don’t know.”
Nick growled. “Michelle.”
“I swear I don’t know.” She sucked in a breath. “I don’t know who he is. He contacts me and tells me what to do. I have no choice.”
He studied her face for a moment, wheels clicking into place now. “His offer to work for him wasn’t really an offer, was it?”
Silently, she shook her head and dropped her lids.
“Is that why you’re getting a fake passport made?”
Her head shot up and she pinned him with her eyes. “How do you know that?”
“The flash drive on your key ring. You had image files and information on it that pointed to it.”
She braced her hands at her hips, suddenly furious. “You took my memory stick? That’s private property. You had no right!”
He shrugged. Private property rights weren’t really his concern right now. He had bigger fish to fry. “Should have encrypted it.”
“There’s no need to encrypt it! It never leaves my sight.”
He pasted a grin on his face. “It did when you took a shower.”
“You, you…” Her hands came up as if she wanted to hit him, but he stopped her by pressing the gun harder against her neck.
Her eyes darted to it. “Don’t you think that’s a little overkill right now? You’ve assured yourself already that I’m not armed. Or do you use that gun as an extension of your dick?”
He chuckled involuntarily. He couldn’t really blame her for being angry; neither could he take that kind of insult lying down. “My dick needs no extension, as you well know.”
She huffed indignantly.
But she’d made her point, and knowing what he knew of her so far, Michelle posed no physical threat to him. He put the safety back on the gun and holstered it, but didn’t step back, keeping her tr
apped between his body and the tree trunk.
“Now that we’ve established the size of my dick, let’s continue. What else did your mysterious handler want you to do?”
“Just record the people who were going to meet here and then text him the file.”
“I don’t mean tonight. I mean in general. You were stalking me online, trying to prevent me from hacking into a server.”
Her mouth gaped open for a second, before she spoke. “So that was you.”
“Yeah, that was me. You’re pretty good, but you made a mistake.”
“How?”
“Doesn’t matter. I traced your IP address to the coffee shop.”
She nodded. “So it wasn’t a coincidence then. Too good to be true. You played me all this time. Got into my pants just so you could figure me out, that it?” She tossed him an angry glare.
“And trust me, I enjoyed it, and so did you.”
“Jerk! I would have never slept with you had I known—”
He pressed his body to hers, grinding his hips into her pelvis, snatching her wrists with both his hands, and pinning her against the tree.
“You don’t know anything, Michelle. Or do you know how I fought with my conscience whether to seduce you or not? Whether to take you to bed or not? How I agonized over it, knowing that it was wrong to touch you when I knew I was doing it to get information from you?”
He lowered his lids, only looking at her parted lips now.
“While all this time, I wanted you, wanted to be with you and make love to you as if we were normal people who are attracted to each other. Do you know that I wished that my suspicions were wrong? That you weren’t the hacker they’d sent to catch me?”
He released her wrists and shoved a hand through his hair, realizing something for the first time.
“Damn it, I slept with you because I wanted you. I could have gotten the information I needed by other means, too. By breaking into your place, or by mugging you. I didn’t need to get this close. But I wanted to.”