The-Forgetful-Spy-Santiago

by The Forgetful Spy (lit)

  She’d screamed his call sign when she climaxed earlier against the chair. Her spy lover had very talented fingers. From Columbia, she already knew his mouth was clever. Her womb clenched in memory of his mouth sucking on her and licking her to climax even weeks later.

  Unfortunately, she had a mission to complete. This booty call had been wonderful but ultimately a very bad idea. She needed to go and pull a certain fire alarm on the third floor of this hotel. Her time was running out. If she failed her task after deviating from her mission parameters, her boss would surely fire her this time.

  “Shit. We need to hide.” He whispered. He grabbed something from the bathroom counter and pushed her out of the bathroom and back into the spare bedroom.

  “I have to go,” she whispered back forcefully.

  Through the partially open bedroom door, Rachel watched as the front door of the suite opened inward. “Turn down service,” the maid called again.

  Rachel was galvanized into action. So was her lover.

  He pulled her away from the open door and further into the spare bedroom. They were out of sight as long as the maid didn’t come in this room. Rachel prayed she’d go into the master bedroom first.

  “Red Angel, this is Dark Spirit. Where are you?” Rachel heard the ear bud come to life with Frankie’s voice.

  Looking out the door, Rachel saw the maid was tidying up in the main suite. If she spoke the maid would hear.

  “Red Angel respond.” Frankie’s voice came back a second time with an edge.

  The man next to her tensed and squeezed her as if he suspected she wanted to speak.

  The maid strolled slowly into the master bedroom but Rachel had to deal with the stranger holding her tight.

  Putting her mouth to his ear she whispered, “What is your name? Or do you want me to keep calling you Buccaneer?”

  “Colin,” he whispered in an amused tone. “But feel free to use either when you scream in climax.”

  A perturbed sigh escaped. “Very funny, Colin. In less than ten minutes I have to be on the third floor of this hotel to perform an important task.”

  He exhaled a long sigh. “You won’t make it. The maid can’t see us. No witnesses.”

  Rachel closed her eyes in frustration. What had she been thinking in coming up here with him? Lust, that’s what.

  She pushed out a deep sigh. “Then I have to report in.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “You can’t listen.”

  He slid her a disbelieving look and rolled his eyes. “I promise you I can keep a secret.”

  Pressing her lips flat, she moved away from him and headed for the closet.

  Once inside relative privacy, Rachel took a deep breath and made the difficult call. “Dark Spirit this is Red Angel. I won’t make…” She paused hating to say the words. “I won’t make it to the designated spot to perform my task.”

  Frankie’s voice came back with a concerned edge. “Are you hurt?”

  Did a nosebleed and splitting headache count? “Not…” She started to say, “Not exactly,” but changed her mind. “No. I’m not hurt. But if I move, someone will see me. I’ll be caught somewhere I shouldn’t be.”

  There was a long pause of pregnant silence at the end of her com link before Frankie said, “Hold on.”

  “I can pull the fire alarm at the penthouse level in less than five minutes,” Rachel offered, hoping to save her skin.

  “No!” Frankie fairly shouted in her ear. “Do not pull the penthouse fire alarm. If you can’t make it to the third floor in time, I’ll have to go with my alternate plan.”

  “Then go with your alternate plan.” Whatever that was. Rachel had no doubt Frankie maintained no less than three backup plans for any eventuality just in case of mishaps. She shook her head, realizing she was probably the reason Frankie needed so many back up plans.

  “Copy, that. Dark Spirit, out.” Frankie’s tone, though completely business-like, held a slight edge Rachel noticed immediately. She hated to disappoint Frankie more than she cared what Paul thought of her spy skills. He’d been vocal of what he considered her sincere lack of the aforementioned spy skills since she began the program.

  While Paul found fault with almost everything she did, Frankie had always championed her much to Paul’s regret. After this failed mission, she’d perhaps lose Frankie’s respect too.

  Glancing at the door, she visualized the sexy man she’d just had her wicked way with causing the mission failure. She was like a horny guy on the prowl. Why she couldn’t resist him was beyond her capacity for understanding.

  The closet door swung open and a shaft of ambient light caught her like a deer frozen in headlight beams. Rachel flinched when Colin slid into the space. He frowned and pushed the door closed without making a sound. Three seconds later Rachel heard the maid enter the spare bedroom. She tensed up trying to be invisible and silent, willing the maid not to look in the closet for any reason.

  The small window above her head afforded a shaft of moonlight, but not enough to see where Colin stood.

  Waiting in the dark was not something Rachel enjoyed. Her mind wandered to the inevitable castigation she’d endure once she checked in at Protocol headquarters. She already dreaded the debriefing and tried to think up a plausible excuse for her actions.

  Lust certainly wasn’t an acceptable reason for failure.

  Her insatiable hunger for Colin was going to get her fired. The annoying thing was that the primary thought pulsing through the pain in her temples was the location and time of when she could meet him again.

  Would she ever see him again when Paul Kelly excused her from the Protocol team for failing to do one simple task? It was unlikely. Heart pounding in her chest, she drifted silently forward a step to find him in the dark. One last hug. One last kiss. If she was going to be fired anyway, she should grab all of Colin that she could.

  Rachel raised her arms and took another step toward where she thought the closet door was located. She took another. The third step yielded her hands against his muscular torso.

  The sound of clothing rustling stopped her. His hand managed to slide around her waist without effort. He pulled her close. She rubbed his chest with one hand before promptly sending it around his neck to play with the hair at the nape of his neck.

  A shudder ran through him when she grazed his scalp lightly with her fingernails. She suspected if she placed a hand on his cock, it would be hard. She vibrated at the memory of their earlier tryst. Her blood pounded through her veins as his scent wrapped around her libido. The one time with him hadn’t been enough to quench the lusty inferno between her legs.

  Rachel wanted him again, but knew a fire alarm was about to ring. A task she was supposed to have completed for her part tonight. She’d failed. This mission would not be counted a success by any measure, with the exception of a sexual one.

  Paul would not be pleased and she dreaded the coming confrontation. She tried to muster the energy to care. Why did her spy career seem so unimportant when she relaxed in Colin’s arms?

  The fire alarm rang. She jerked even though she’d been expecting the noise. Colin rubbed his hand down her back in what she assumed was a calming gesture. It was working.

  The maid shrieked at the sound of the alarm and ran out of the spare room then out of the hotel suite’s front door slamming it behind her.

  Colin shifted his hands together and the face of his watch lit up. “I hope it isn’t a real fire. The alarm is early.”

  “It’s not a real fire. I was supposed to pull the alarm. I just called to tell my partner I was trapped and unable to get to the third floor.”

  He was silent for a moment. He kissed her forehead. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”

  “It was my fault. Lust overcame me.”

  “Me too.” He pulled her into his arms and found her mouth for a kiss. He rubbed his lips over hers and dipped his tongue in her mouth for a taste. Her hunger for him pushed through her veins. The he
ady taste of him made her forget everything else.

  She tightened her arms around his neck as the steady ring of the fire alarm vibrated in her chest. The sound made her want to run, but it was better that they waited a few moments. They wanted to ensure no one from the penthouse level would see them leave. And she didn’t want to break the decadent kiss.

  After several lip-licking moments they finally parted and padded silently out of the closet and through the suite.

  Once out in the hall, Colin headed for the door labeled ‘roof access’ and stopped when she didn’t follow.

  Turning around he asked, “Do you want to come with me? I think we’re working on the same team tonight.” His grin almost made her throw caution out the window, but she was in enough trouble.

  Rachel shook her head. “It was great ‘working’ with you, but I don’t want to deviate from my mission parameters. At least any further than I have already.”

  He nodded and pulled her close. Dipping his head to capture her lips in a sensual kiss, she concentrated on keeping her legs from buckling. Their passionate embrace would have to last her for an undetermined time. Rachel hoped this wouldn’t be the last time she ever saw him.

  Colin grabbed her hand and pressed a thumb drive into her palm. “If you hadn’t had a nosebleed, we wouldn’t have retrieved it anyway.”

  Rachel looked at the flash drive then back at Colin.

  “It probably has some juicy information known only to Salerno. Maybe you can use it as a bargaining chip so they won’t punish you.”

  “Thank you.” An unexpected gift. There would still be the devil to pay, but perhaps Colin had given her the means to ante up the fee.

  He winked. “I’ll see you soon.”

  “I hope so.”

  “I know so.” He grinned and disappeared through the door to the roof.

  Rachel shuffled to the stairs. She had a long way to go and a lot of explaining to do once she got there. After scurrying down the first four flights, she tried not to think of it as her final descent into Hell.

  * * * *

  Paul Kelly wiped his hand down his face in a familiar gesture of fury when he found out the complete truth of what happened in the Las Vegas hotel. Rachel and Frankie sat before his desk, solemn faced and quiet.

  Frankie had already given him one account before they’d arrived. It was a cryptic one, however, and did not explain much regarding Rachel’s inability to perform her task. It also hadn’t explained her call five minutes before her task was to be completed to explain her imminent failure.

  Upon her return to base, Rachel had told him about seeing the man she’d released in Columbia and her impulsive action to help him secure entrance to the penthouse. She’d apologized and explained why she couldn’t get back out because of the maid.

  Paul crossed his arms. “What were you doing on the eighth floor at the party in the first place?”

  “Waiting around for the appointed time to pull the fire alarm on the third floor.” Frankie had already explained to him briefly that she’d sent Rachel in there as back up for Ken’s agents. Paul wondered if she would rat Frankie out to save her own skin if he pressed her further.

  “How did you get into the party in the first place? It was supposed to be by invitation only.” He pierced her with his most ferocious glare and raised an eyebrow for an extra menacing expression.

  Rachel’s face softened as if he didn’t scare her one single bit. “I guess a pretty face and a smile buys more than you think.”

  Next to her, Frankie sat with her spine rigid and added, “I’m sorry, Mr. Kelly. I was the one that suggested she circulate through the party area so as to be available to the others on the mission. I didn’t know she already knew one of the agents.”

  Paul ignored Frankie’s repeated statement and studied Rachel. She was hiding something. Her unease circulated in the room like a presence. “Why did it take you so long to get out of the room once you had retrieved the item from inside the safe? You should have had plenty of time to get to the third floor.”

  A sharply surprised glare was shot his way before she could conceal it. “I don’t know what you mean?”

  “Then let me explain.” Paul twisted and grabbed a sheaf of papers from the in-box, which rested on the corner of his desk. “I have the computer access records from the hotel telling me the exact time you entered and exited the penthouse suite.”

  Her face turned crimson and her lips flattened suggesting she wasn’t going to answer. Jesus, now what, he thought.

  Gaze focused straight ahead, she shifted in her chair as if suddenly uncomfortable, but didn’t respond.

  He prodded. “I also show that three minutes after entering the room, the other agent accessed the safe in the spare bedroom closet. Two and a half minutes after opening it with the combination, he sealed it.”

  “So?” Rachel slid a surly look his way momentarily and then resumed staring at the wall.

  “So from the time the safe was sealed shut again and the maid accessed the room to turn down the sheets is a lapse of quite a bit of time I’d like accounted for!” The final word out of his mouth was a piercing shout.

  She inhaled deeply and exhaled before answering. “I got a nosebleed and the other agent helped me into the bathroom to stop it.”

  Frankie snapped her head sideways to stare at her wayward partner. Paul was also stricken for a moment. “Nosebleed? Why did you get a nosebleed?” Without waiting for her to answer, he turned, pushed a button on the desk intercom and called for a Protocol scientist to come to his office.

  “I don’t know why the nosebleed came about, but Colin grabbed for a towel and this came flying out from the folds.” She held out her hand and dropped a flash drive in his palm.

  “Did you have a sharp sudden headache right before the nosebleed?” he asked studying the small silver thumb drive in his hand.

  “How did you know that?” Rachel’s eyes narrowed. She sent him a worried gaze of inquiry.

  “Christ.” Paul ran his hand down his face again.

  Rachel had failed the minimum standard Protocol limits of field work during her first month in the program. All the other agents could last for a minimum of two weeks before the strain showed. Rachel could barely last through a twenty-four hour period before something happened. The son of a bitch Senator Bremer, who forced him to keep Rachel in the program, didn’t care if she didn’t belong in the exclusive little group.

  A knock at the door prevented him from answering her question. “Come in,” he barked.

  A stocky, balding scientist in a white lab coat entered his office. His questioning facial expression landed on Paul.

  “Miss Miles had a headache followed by a nosebleed during her last mission. I want to know why.”

  Concern registered over the scientist’s features. “Yes, sir,” he replied. “I’ll run a battery of tests straight away.”

  Paul nodded at Rachel once. “Go with him. You need to be evaluated.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing. You’re sick. Go get checked out. We’ll chat later.” She hesitated, so he added, “Look at it this way, it’ll give you more time to think up an excuse.”

  Rachel shot a frown over one shoulder, but exited without saying anything else. The scientist followed her out the door leaving Paul with a worried Frankie.

  “She got a nosebleed within the twenty-four hour window? That’s not good.” Frankie’s quiet southern lilt reverberated around the office.

  Paul forced a breath out. It was a sigh of relief to cover his anxiety. “Relax. It was only the first one. She’ll be fine.”

  Frankie’s rigid spine said she wasn’t relieved. Paul wasn’t either but didn’t show it.

  “What’s the fall out from our mission ‘challenges’ this time?” Frankie eyed the thumb drive in his hand briefly.

  Paul sighed. “The agent from the other task force got caught on tape pulling the alarm in the kitchen. I’d hoped you could at least scramble the pi
cture if not turn it off.”

  Frankie shrugged and shook her head. “I just didn’t have time to turn it off. I’m sorry.”

  Paul grimaced. “The local cops are screaming for blood from the other group we worked with.” Federal case or not. Secret mission or not. Stopping evil criminals or not. The local police wanted a scapegoat. Paul didn’t have one to give them.

  Well, technically he had one, but he refused to turn Rachel over to them. Nepotism at the highest level was involved regarding her participation in the Protocol Agency and impossible to overcome in his particular chain of command.

  “What can I do?” Frankie asked.

  “Nothing for now. Go ahead and write up your full detailed account. I’ll look it over and adjust it for the ‘official’ report we submit to the Senator.”

  “If you don’t mind me illegally hacking into the hotel’s communications system, I might be able to tag a virus to the tape of Zack pulling the fire alarm. It’s a long shot, but—”

  “Do it,” Paul cut her off without hesitation. “Let me know if you succeed.”

  Frankie nodded and stood. Before leaving she turned back. “I’m sorry I sent her into the party. I should have checked—”

  “No. It was my fault,” Paul cut her off again. “I knew about the other agent. At the time, I didn’t think it was important to tell you. In the future, we need to keep them apart.”

  Frankie nodded again and left his office. As soon as the door closed, the phone on his desk rang.

  Glancing at the familiar phone number on the caller ID he grunted. What now?

  He picked up the phone and added a jovial tone he didn’t feel. “Good afternoon, Senator Bremer. What can I do for you?” Paul flipped the thumb drive Rachel had given him through his fingers like a magician about to perform a coin trick.

  Bremer cleared his throat loudly over the phone. “I want the details of the recent mission you sent your agents on.”

  Paul rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “As soon as it’s complete, I’ll send it to you.”

  “Why isn’t it complete? It’s been hours. It should be done now.” The senator’s phlegm-filled smoker’s cough assailed the phone line. He pulled the receiver away from one ear until the noise stopped.