by Lara Adrian
His body heated and sweat built on his skin. It made the contact of skin-on-skin even smoother, even more natural and sensual.
The warmth in Michelle’s eyes as she gazed at him filled his heart with hope. Her hands were on him, touching him, exploring him, caressing him. His entire body hummed with awareness, pleasure building inside him, making his heart beat faster and blood race through his veins as fast as a locomotive.
Though he didn’t want to climax yet, his body didn’t give him a choice in the matter. Being connected to Michelle in such an intimate way, he hurtled toward the inevitable. He couldn’t have stopped it anymore than he could stop a tsunami.
When the first bolt of pleasure charged into his cock, he tried to hold it back, but the wave was already cresting, already hitting him broadside. Hot semen exploded from the tip of his cock, and spasms rocked his body, making his hips jerk and his cock slam into Michelle’s soft center with such force that he feared he was going to hurt her.
But when their eyes locked, all he saw was pleasure in those blue orbs. Then her body stilled for a split second, before a visible shiver overtook her and her interior muscles gripped him tightly.
Her cry of release went through him, reigniting him, sending another intense wave of pleasure over him.
Breathing hard, he collapsed on top of her, managing only in the last second to brace himself on his elbows. His knees were shaking. Noticing Michelle’s heaving chest, he rolled onto his back, releasing her.
He turned his head to the side, looking at her, unable to say a word. She shifted, facing him. He reached for her, intertwining his fingers with hers.
Wordlessly, she stared at their joined hands. He knew then that letting her go would be the hardest thing he’d ever done.
21
“You clean up pretty nice,” Michelle said, pointing to Nick’s navy business suit.
They were sitting in the back of the van that Stingray was driving toward the CIA’s headquarters in Langley, Virginia. Ranger was following them in a second car, an inconspicuous Toyota Corolla, his girlfriend, Lisa, driving a gray Buick. At first Michelle hadn’t understood the need for so many cars, but Stingray had explained that Nick needed to drive himself to the parking lot, since he was the only one who could get a car through the gate with his CIA identification. The rest of them would have to wait at a safe distance. Once Nick was back, he’d have to ditch the car he’d used to get into the CIA, and they needed to be able to switch cars, in case they were being followed. Hence the need for the Buick.
Nick tugged on his tie. “Dress code is pretty formal inside Langley. I don’t wanna stick out like a sore thumb.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll fit right in,” Stingray said from the driver’s seat as he pulled over by the side of the road.
Behind them Ranger came to a stop too, as did the Buick.
Michelle glanced out the windshield. She could barely make out the little hut with the armed guards in the distance, the entrance to the CIA campus everybody had to pass through to get to the headquarters building.
She must have looked worried, because Nick took her hand, and squeezed it reassuringly. “I’ve been in there many times. I know my way around.”
“What if you’re recognized?” she asked.
“Even if I am, there are so many covert agents swarming around that place that nobody will ask me any questions. That’s just how it is in there. Isn’t that right, Stingray?”
The other Phoenix nodded with a grunt. “Sure is. Though it’s not without risk.” He motioned to the ID Nick had pinned to his breast pocket. “That’ll get you in, sure, but you know as well as I do that the code embedded in Sheppard’s ID will throw up all kinds of red flags. And once those work their way to the right person, your gig is up.”
Michelle felt as if somebody had just choked the air out of her. “What?” She glared at Nick. “Why didn’t you tell me about that? I thought nobody knew about the ID.”
Nick shifted in his seat, seemingly uncomfortable. “That was the case while it was hidden in the secret archive, but the moment I activated it for myself, it became visible to anybody who cares to look.” He shrugged. “Don’t worry, this is a bureaucracy like any other. The system security administrators working for the CIA are just as overworked and underpaid as anybody else. They don’t have time to chase every single abnormality.”
She didn’t believe him. The way he avoided her gaze now told her that he was aware of it, too.
“I’ve got at least an hour before they figure out the ID is bogus,” Nick tried to placate her.
“At most,” Stingray threw in.
Nick tossed him a sideways glance. “You’re not helping.”
“If you’re talking about backing you up when you’re lying to your girlfriend about the risk you’re taking, then, no, I’m not helping. I wasn’t aware that was part of my job.”
Michelle leaned closer to Nick. “I thought after last night…” She hesitated, searching Nick’s gaze. “I thought we were gonna be honest with each other.”
He brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “We are. But I didn’t want to worry you. Trust me, I can do this. I worked as an IT analyst in Langley for many years. I know how things work there.”
“You didn’t mention that before,” Stingray interrupted.
Nick shrugged. “How do you think I was able to hide Sheppard’s ID in the first place? The moment I got his distress call, I did what I could to leave a back door open for myself. I knew that one day I would need to be able to get back in. But I had to run, just like the rest of you. It was all I could do in the few minutes I had.” He looked back at Michelle. “I’ll be in and out in no time. They won’t even blink.”
Despite his reassuring explanation, the doubt inside her didn’t subside. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. Now—”
The pinging of Michelle’s burner phone interrupted him.
She pulled it from her pocket, her heart beating in her throat. Only one person knew this number and would contact her on it: Mr. Smith.
Before she could read the text message, Nick took the cell from her and looked at it. When he looked up again, concern spread over his face, making worry lines appear on his forehead and around his eyes and mouth.
“Fucking bad timing,” Nick ground out and exchanged a look with Stingray.
Michelle took the phone from him and read the message. Now Smith wanted a meeting? Damn it. “In two hours? That won’t give us any time to set a trap for him.” She looked at Nick. “We have to leave now. You have to go into Langley another day.”
Nick shook his head. “I can’t. The ID is already active. Tomorrow, hell, this afternoon, it will already have been flagged as bogus and they’ll arrest me the moment I set foot in the building. It has to be now or never.”
“Crap, crap, crap!” Michelle cursed. There was only one solution then. And as much as she hated it, she knew it was their only chance. “We have to split up.”
“Out of the fucking question!” Nick bellowed.
“Just hear me out.”
“Michelle, you’re not meeting him alone. That’s suicide.”
“I have no intention of meeting him alone. But somebody has to go there to set up surveillance.” She pointed to the text message. “He wants to meet on the island that houses Lady Bird Johnson Park. I know it. It’s across from the Pentagon, separated by Boundary Channel.”
“Boundary Channel?” Stingray asked.
“A waterway that connects to the Potomac,” she explained and looked back at Nick. “There are two ways to get on and off the island: via George Washington Memorial Parkway or with a boat. There’s a marina on the southern tip of the island, Columbia Island Marina.”
“What are you saying?” Nick asked.
“Somebody has to set up electronic surveillance there in case he slips through our fingers. We have to be able to track whether he leaves the island by car or by boat. And I’m the only one who has the technical knowledge
to do that.”
“So do Ranger and Stingray,” Nick protested, looking at Stingray for support.
“That’s right. I know my stuff.” Stingray looked insulted.
Michelle tossed him a glare. “I know my stuff better, no offense. Besides, Nick needs you here. If something goes wrong, you’ll have to get him out.”
She could see Nick battling with the decision before him. “Then take Ranger with you.”
She shook her head. “He’s injured. He won’t be much help. I can work much faster on my own. I’ll be done long before Smith shows up. By that time, you’ll have left Langley and can meet me outside Arlington and then we can surprise Smith together. It’s the best solution.”
Nick glanced at Stingray. His friend nodded after a few seconds.
“She’s right, man. We’re running out of time.”
Nick took both of Michelle’s hands in his. “You go there, set up the cameras and you get out. You hear me? No hanging around there. Just in and out. If you’re not at the Arlington Metro in exactly one hour, I’m going to whip your butt when I catch you. Is that clear?”
She nodded, her heart racing at his impassioned statement.
“Make sure Stingray can get a hold of you while I’m in there. Do you have a cell on you?”
Michelle shook her head. “Only the burner from Smith.”
Nick glanced at Stingray, who already nodded and said, “I’ve got some spares.”
Nodding in agreement, Nick addressed her again, “Take the van. It’s got all the equipment you’ll need.” He turned to Stingray. “I’ll take the Toyota. Wait in the Buick with Ranger and Lisa, and take the communication system with you so you and I can communicate when I’m inside and you can watch my back.”
When Nick turned back to her, his gaze was heated. He pulled her into his arms, kissed her fiercely, then released her just as abruptly, and exited the van.
22
Nick exhaled a sigh of relief when the guard at the gate returned his identification and lifted the gate to let him pass. He pressed his foot on the gas and accelerated the Toyota, driving down the long driveway flanked by trees and bushes.
The entire Langley campus was surrounded by a thick forest, sitting there like an island. Several massive parking lots—all above ground—surrounded the large building, or rather buildings, since CIA headquarters was really made up of three separate but interconnected buildings. Once inside any of them, a person could get to any part of it—given the right access credentials of course.
An inner courtyard was partially covered with a massive tent-like canopy, other areas were open and provided some greenery to relax within the concrete-and-glass structure.
Nick drove to the parking lot closest to the main entrance. In case something went wrong, he would need to get to his car quickly to leave the CIA campus before they locked the place down. It was still early. Many employees were only just arriving. He’d timed it that way, knowing that during busy times he had a better chance of slipping through unnoticed. In the morning, everybody was too concerned with getting their first cup of coffee and not fully awake yet.
Nick exited the car and locked it, then walked calmly toward the entrance. From the corner of his eye, he observed other men and women doing the same. Some held paper coffee cups, others carried briefcases. Most were dressed in suits or other business casual clothing.
For three years, Nick had waited for this opportunity, and now it had finally come. As if he still belonged here, he walked through the glass doors, entering the white-and-gray marble-and-granite entrance hall. Nothing had changed. A row of turnstiles awaited him. Beyond them the well-known CIA seal made of white-and-gray granite tiles was laid into the floor.
He lined up at one of the turnstiles, waiting his turn to swipe his identification card. The person ahead of him marched through it quickly, and he followed, swiping his card.
A high-pitched beep sounded, and a red light flashed at his turnstile.
Adrenaline shot through him.
Shit!
A security guard walked up to him, glancing at his ID. “Sorry, sir, we’ve been having some problems with this one this morning when people come through too quickly. Please try again now.”
Nick plastered a fake smile on his face and nodded. “No problem.”
Heart beating in his throat, he swiped his card again. A green light flashed at once.
“Go ahead, sir,” the security guard said, waving him through. “It’s all good now. Have a nice day.”
“You, too.”
Relieved, Nick marched through the turnstile and walked to the end of the hall. Sweat trickled from his neck and disappeared beneath the collar of his starched dress shirt. Another incident like that, and he’d have a heart attack at thirty-three.
Focusing on the task ahead, Nick let his gaze roam. He still knew his way around, though it had been over three years since he’d last been at Langley. The maze of corridors had never seemed daunting to him before. He’d loved the challenge, loved to figure out the fastest way from point A to point B.
Acting as if he belonged there, Nick walked confidently. He never hesitated, always planned ahead, his mind constantly mapping out the path in front of him, so he would never have to stop to orient himself. He wouldn’t give anybody a reason to look at him with suspicion.
He didn’t take the elevator, but used the stairs instead, not wanting to be in a confined space from which it would be difficult to escape should anybody recognize him. Though it was unlikely, there was always a chance of running into somebody who knew Sheppard and therefore knew the badge that hung on Nick’s pocket wasn’t his, even though the picture was of his face.
It felt like an eternity until he reached the right corridor. He approached the door that said Restricted Area and stopped. Outside of it were a card reader and a camera.
Nick swiped his card, then lifted his face toward the camera, knowing that a facial recognition software was about to scan his face and compare it to the picture on file—the picture he’d uploaded to the CIA’s systems himself.
Several seconds passed, then he heard a click. Nick pushed against the door. It opened inward. He stepped through it and let the door close behind him. It was quieter here, though he knew he wasn’t alone. Along the corridor were several rooms with their doors closed.
“I’m in,” he whispered into the tiny mic hidden beneath the lapel of his jacket.
“Good, we’ve got you.”
He heard Stingray’s reply in his ear and sighed with relief. The GPS in the heel of Nick’s shoe was sending back a signal to his fellow Phoenix. The infrared system Michelle had tapped into and showed Stingray how to use, was doing the rest.
“Walk straight ahead,” came the first instruction through his earpiece.
With an outward calmness, Nick passed the closed doors until he reached a bend in the corridor.
“Now left.”
He turned left.
“Third door.”
Nick counted. At the third door, he stopped. There was only a number on it, no other indication of what lay behind it.
“Is it empty?” Nick asked, keeping his voice low.
“Yes. Infrared indicates no human inside. It’s a go.”
Nick pushed the door open and slipped in, easing it shut behind him. The humming noise in the room was created by the many computers lining one wall.
“I’m going silent,” he advised Stingray.
“Understood.”
Nick walked up to the first computer and touched the mouse. The login screen came on as expected. He pulled the paper Ranger had given him from his pocket and placed it next to the keyboard, then typed in the string of numbers and letters into the login and password area on the screen. Praying he was correct that this was Sheppard’s ghost login, he pressed the Enter key.
It only took a second for a blue desktop to appear. Welcome, Henry, it said in large letters before the writing faded into the background, and made way for several icon
s.
It wasn’t hard to navigate the area. Sheppard had been an organized man, keeping everything in its proper place.
Under a folder named Stargate, the CIA program Sheppard had once been part of and from which he’d created the Phoenix program, Nick found a folder simply named My Boys.
For a brief instant, Nick’s heart clenched. Sheppard had truly been a father to him, and most likely to the other Phoenix, too. To know that he had seen them as his sons, brought back the pain of losing him. But he had no time to wallow in that pain now.
Nick clicked on the folder.
Shock made him jerk back. The folder was empty.
“Shit!” he cursed.
“What’s wrong?” Stingray asked.
“Not now!”
Frantically, Nick searched the remainder of the folders. Empty, all of them!
“Fuck!” he cursed. “Somebody got here ahead of us! The files are all gone!”
“Shit!” Stingray ground out.
“Wait!” He’d just had an idea. “The recycle bin.” Maybe it hadn’t been emptied and the deleted files were still sitting in there.
Nick clicked on the icon. Empty, too.
“Fuck!” All this for nothing. He kicked against the desk, frustrated. “Somebody knew we’d be coming.”
“Get out of there!” Stingray ordered. “Now!”
“There must be another way,” Nick mumbled to himself. There had to be. He scanned all icons on the desktop once more.
“Damn it, Fox, you’ve gotta leave!”
Nick shook his head, when his eyes suddenly fell on an icon he’d ignored. “The backup system.”
“What?”
“All computers are backed up regularly. The backup files are kept for quite some time.” He only had to figure out where the backup files were kept.
Quickly, Nick opened the control panel and searched for the right area then scanned the information and found the file path he was looking for.
Moments later, he’d navigated to it. There were hundreds of backup files pertaining to Sheppard’s files. They were listed chronologically. The last one had been made about a month after Sheppard’s death. Since then, the files in his cloud hadn’t been backed up, most likely because the system hadn’t detected any activity.