Assassin Games (Tarnished Heroes)

by Bristol, Sidney

  Andy kissed Carol’s brow and pulled out of her warm embrace.

  He stared down at her. Her features were relaxed, sated. She trusted him. And his next move had to be breaking her heart, because very soon one of them would fall in love with the other. It was the logical next step between the high-stake situation, the stress, and adrenaline. One of them would fall in love with the idea of the other at the very least, if not the reality. And that would be their downfall. So he had to break her heart first. When she healed, she’d be stronger. Without him.

  But tonight?

  Tonight he’d be a selfish bastard and hold her.

  …

  Friday, CIA Headquarters

  Kristina had a plan. It was a good one. She just had to make things work.

  She strode into the office, fueled by confidence and gumption. She’d set this operation into motion and she’d lost control of it. It was time to take it back, and she didn’t want to do only what the Shadow Man told her to do. She had ideas and plans of her own.

  First, she’d make the file public, the one the Shadow Man wanted her to let out of the bag. Then, she’d take out some insurance on both Andy and Carol to cover her own ass and bring everything back on track.

  If it weren’t for Kristina’s involvement with the others within the Company she wouldn’t know about Andy’s identity or his family. The handlers had call signs for all of the contractors. But she knew who they really were. Most of them at least. The important ones.

  Kristina slid into her seat and booted up her computer. In a matter of minutes, before the rest of those in the office arrived, she’d accessed her ghost network and moved the appropriate file where it would trigger an alert that would snowball into a security situation.

  She’s been instructed to not read it. This way it preserved her ignorance and ensured she would react surprised along with everyone else. Deep down she hoped the file was aimed at Irene. That woman was on her last nerve.

  Kristina whiled away the first hour of the morning doing the normal office activities. Making coffee. Filing. Hand delivering a few classified envelopes to the correct departments. Nothing out of the ordinary.

  At nine sharp every person in the office left and headed for the conference room down the hall. Some sort of interdepartmental thing that’d been on the calendar for weeks. People like her weren’t included because of the security classification, which was fine. She had a hell of a lot of work and some extra covering her ass to do.

  The coast was clear.

  She let herself into Irene’s office. Irene was exceedingly particular about people not entering. Going in during work hours was a risk Kristina had to take because she needed Irene’s laptop. She sat at the woman’s desk, careful to not touch anything, and plugged a flash drive into the computer.

  This handy piece of technology fooled the new biometric security into cloaking the last login, therefore rendering Kristina’s need to pass herself off as Irene null.

  She had no idea how long the meeting would last.

  This had to be done fast.

  She navigated to what was essentially the work order request area for the contractors.

  Who was available?

  Every handler had their guys, people only they worked with. And then there were these jack-of-all-trades. For the most part they weren’t as reliable or clean as the off-the-books characters, but for what Kristina needed, they’d do. She hadn’t needed this process for activating Andy. There were already protocols in place for communication between him and Irene. What Kristina needed was someone new.

  Aha!

  There was one in the Pacific Northwest.

  She coded orders to the operative, sending him off to the great northern reaches of Montana. If Andy couldn’t be controlled, she’d bring him to heel another way. If the notes in his unofficial file were to be believed, he wouldn’t let his family come to harm because of him. He was just too good for that.

  Now, she needed another one…

  A name caught her eye.

  Him?

  Really?

  Kristina chewed her lip.

  Kevin Winters.

  He was a former CIA agent who’d fucked up. They’d had to cut him loose, but he hadn’t been burned. He was too valuable to let someone else scoop him up, but they couldn’t ignore his transgressions. The alternative was turning him into a contractor. He was still out in the cold, but not cut off. There were worse alternatives.

  Why hadn’t someone brought him into SICA?

  Kristina had to wonder about that, but not for long. Her time was drawing to a close.

  Kevin would be hungry to be in the game, willing to do anything.

  He was perfect for keeping tabs on Jennifer Sark, and everyone knew Carol had a weak spot for her mother. The whole Sark family was pathetic and sentimental from what she’d heard about the old man before he’d died.

  Kristina shut down the window and cleared her history. Satisfied she’d done what she needed to, she pulled the USB drive out and left Irene’s office just as she’d found it.

  …

  Mitch filed into the meeting space. It was one of the larger ones in the building, and from word around the water cooler, any department that had a finger in Asia was due to show. It wasn’t often the Company stopped all work for a meeting like this, but here they were.

  Irene stood at the coffee station, waiting her turn.

  She still wasn’t acknowledging his existence. Was this some sort of tactic? A female thing? What? He was running out of reasons to explain away the complete and total silence from her.

  Maybe she just wasn’t interested in him.

  That idea stung, but he couldn’t make her want him the way he wanted her. If she’d just say something, tell him it would never happen again, he’d back off. But all she’d said was that it couldn’t happen again. Couldn’t didn’t mean the same thing as no or she wasn’t interested. As far as he was concerned, there was still hope. He could be patient. Good things were worth waiting on, and they were hip-deep in a murky situation.

  He just wished she would speak to him, but if it wasn’t operational related, she wouldn’t so much as look in his direction.

  Was it because she thought he would—what? Take advantage of her? That he wasn’t serious about her? How he felt? Truth be told, he wasn’t sure what he felt, but he knew she was an amazing woman and he wanted to get to know her better.

  If she wanted to keep things professional, if she didn’t have feelings for him—fine. All she needed to do was say so. And yet she hadn’t. It was a frustrating circle.

  Irene wasn’t the kind of woman who ran from things. She met a challenge head-on. So what else was going on? What had he done?

  Mitch stepped into line behind Irene.

  She didn’t glance at him, but there was a subtle shift. Her back straightened and her shoulders went rigid.

  He sighed and took the next cup in the stack. Coffee wasn’t on his mind—she was.

  “Looks like they got the good coffee. Wonder what they’re going to hit us with this morning?” Mitch didn’t speak to anyone in general.

  The man behind him said something.

  Irene remained resolute in her decision to not give him a moment of acknowledgment.

  Fine.

  Whatever.

  He had enough on his plate without wondering if Irene got home okay at night, how her sister was doing, and a hundred other things.

  Mitch poured half a cup of coffee and stalked off to the other side of the room. She wanted space? He’d give it to her.

  It wasn’t like he didn’t have a dozen things breathing down his neck to deal with. But she was always there, in the back of his mind. He couldn’t stop worrying—caring—about Irene.

  The assistant director entered and stepped up to the podium.

  Mitch had expected there would be some large-scale conversations happening given the recent shifts of power in Asia. The ousting of the South Korean president was hitting their in
terests hard. If the North weren’t rattling their swords, the outcome of the emergency election might not be so favorable to their goals, but as it were, things seemed to be proceeding well enough.

  The meeting was more about distributing a large amount of information to the greatest number of people than anything else. Mitch suspected the next few days would be full of section meetings, team meetings, and lots of long-term planning. They’d need to move people around, get someone into Hong Kong to take over Charlie’s place permanently. In general, it was business as usual. But it was hard to focus on that when Mitch knew what was happening below the surface.

  Andy and Carol were still in the wind.

  Rand and Sarah wouldn’t make contact for weeks.

  Irene wasn’t speaking to him.

  Hector… Something was up with him and it left Mitch in an uneasy state of mind regarding the other agent.

  Shit. Mitch’s direct boss would want Carol back, even if it was remote only.

  That would prove to be a problem.

  How to perpetuate the idea that Carol was simply home sick? Not…wherever she was.

  He kept his mind on task, refusing to so much as think about the ongoing, behind-the-scenes mess going on.

  The assistant director took some questions, and already messages were hitting Mitch’s inbox from his peers in the same room.

  Work was about to get a whole lot more complicated.

  The side doors opened and three men wearing the dark uniforms of the CIA’s Security Protective Services stepped in.

  All three men stared straight at Mitch.

  “Mitch McConnel?” The head of SPS knew who Mitch was. They’d grown up together. What the fuck?

  “What’s going on, Terry?” Mitch asked.

  “You’re under arrest for aiding and abetting a terrorist and traitor,” Terry said with a straight face.

  Mitch gaped. Weeks—months—ago, he’d have expected this following the disaster with Charlie. But now? Why after all this time?

  Terry’s mouth continued to move, citing his rights, but it didn’t change the fact that Mitch was being arrested. He hadn’t known Charlie was a traitor, there’d been no indication, but Mitch had played into the man’s plans.

  The two uniformed men cuffed Mitch, right there in front of over a hundred people he’d worked with.

  This was a power play. They wanted him out of the way. Why?

  Terry wouldn’t even meet his gaze now.

  Mitch had been set up. Why? Because he was too noticeable? To get him out of the way? To send a message?

  The link to Charlie, all the shit that should have hit the fan, someone had stopped the storm. Why unleash it now? Who would have that kind of oversight? How far did this reach?

  Mitch didn’t think he’d like those answers.

  Chapter Eleven

  Irene’s blood was cold. She couldn’t feel her toes or fingertips. This was shock. A form of it.

  Mitch…

  Her heart hurt at the loss of him. She couldn’t focus on her feelings, though. That wouldn’t help them find a solution.

  None of them had seen that coming.

  Why was Mitch arrested?

  Oh, there was a laundry list of reasons why, but those were slaps on the wrists. Not outright arrests. Something was going on. They were a step behind, not ahead.

  She kept her gaze straight ahead, looking neither right nor left. First she had to get to her office. Then she’d—what? Send out a smoke signal to Rand and Sarah? That would only draw attention to them. Noah was a possibility, but Irene didn’t have the best rapport with the man. Hector then. It had to be Hector, which left her feeling even more unsettled. The other agent had pulled back from their investigation, distancing himself. Irene wasn’t sure that they could trust him, especially not with the lives of Carol and Andy.

  People she passed had their heads together. The whispers had begun.

  Arresting Mitch in the middle of today’s meeting was…ballsy. It was also dangerous. One didn’t have to dig far to figure out who Mitch’s father was, how far up that line of power went. And to toy with it?

  The presidential candidate wasn’t exactly known for being a cool head. That’s what the American public liked about him. The honest, knee-jerk reactions, the displays of emotion. And from what Irene had seen, the man dearly wanted Mitch back in the fold. If Mitch was arrested it was going to draw a lot of attention, not just from the campaign offices, but the media. And journalists would have a field day with whatever was going on in the CIA.

  There had to be a bigger plan afoot. Something that would make a risk like this worth it.

  If they were going after Mitch, getting him out of the way, how long until they came for Irene? Rand? Sarah? Andy? Carol?

  Noah was potentially insulated from it all. If they were lucky. But there was no guarantee.

  Hector glanced up from his phone. She caught his eye long enough to know he wanted nothing to do with her.

  Well, too bad. He was involved at the ground level.

  Irene quickstepped it, drawing even with the man.

  “We need to talk,” she said.

  “No, we don’t. I’m not involved in this. Me and my guy, we aren’t connected, and I’m keeping it this way.” Hector sped up. He was protecting who? Noah? Or Rand? Interesting. He was only claiming one of them.

  Irene kept pace. If she couldn’t trust Hector, could she go over his head to Noah? Or the others?

  “What about Rand?” she asked. If they were coming for Mitch, it was only a matter of time until Rand was a target, too. He’d been involved in that whole mess.

  “Rand is his own problem, not mine.”

  “So that’s it? You’re done? You’re out?”

  “I got my people out. I did my job. This? Whatever you guys have cooked up, it doesn’t involve me.” Hector stalked into his office and shut the door.

  Irene had to do something.

  She stepped into her office and gently closed the door.

  Think.

  Think.

  She had to think.

  Irene paced to the back wall and pivoted. She glanced at her desk and paused.

  Her laptop was cockeyed. Just a hair, but it’d been moved.

  The trash was still full. She hadn’t asked for anything to be delivered. The files were in order. Everything in place. And yet someone had touched her laptop.

  She closed the screen and yanked the power cord out.

  Mitch was arrested.

  Someone had futzed with her laptop.

  Too many coincidences weren’t coincidental.

  She needed to get outside. Away from prying eyes. And make a call. Contacting Rand and Sarah was dangerous, but they were Irene’s only link to Andy at this point that she could trust.

  Irene placed her hand against the phone in her pocket.

  The burner in her desk was potentially compromised, as was her main cell phone.

  She needed a new one.

  A sharp knock at her door startled her out of her thoughts.

  People were gossiping, which meant they’d give her a wide berth. Irene hadn’t exactly made many friends. In the boy’s club of the CIA it didn’t behoove her to get too friendly.

  Which meant…prepare for the worst.

  They’d arrested Mitch in public. It was a signal. So what was this?

  She crossed to the door and opened it.

  The director over all Asian operations stood on the other side, face grim.

  “Sir?”

  “We need to talk, Drummond.” Director Scott stared at her, a hard, unfriendly expression on his age-worn face.

  “You could have scheduled a meeting.” That was typical. This, whatever it was, wasn’t.

  “I’d rather do this in private. May we?” He gestured at the two chairs in her office.

  Irene backed up and let the man into her office.

  “Is there something wrong?” She closed the door, fighting the urge to duck out and—what? Be run d
own by her own people? No, thank you.

  “You have a close and personal relationship with Carol Sark, do you not?” The director remained standing.

  “We work together frequently.” Irene folded her hands in front of her.

  “Carol has gone MIA. Given the sensitive nature of what we’re about to do in Asia, the shifting political climate, we’re putting those who have worked closest with her on temporary leave and house arrest.”

  “For working with a top analyst?” Irene couldn’t help gaping at the man. Carol was one of the best at what she did. Everyone had worked with her.

  “You have used her on a number of clandestine operations. Your involvement with her is reported to be more personal. It’s not a reflection of your actions, Irene. You’re a top-notch agent. This is more about…preserving your innocence in all this.”

  “I beg your pardon, sir, but putting me under house arrest for my own good is not doing me any favors. I have people in the field—”

  “And that’s what people will think you’re doing.” The director stared at her, his gaze unwavering. “I didn’t bring SPS with me. There’s no reason for anyone to suspect you’re doing anything other than handling matters elsewhere.”

  Irene studied the man.

  Which side was he on? What was he trying to tell her without words?

  He was doing her a favor. To make her trip up? To force her to show her hand? To sort out if they were on the same side?

  “Does this have anything to do with why Agent McConnel was arrested?” she asked.

  “I can’t say.”

  “Can I at least get my things?”

  “I’ll take your laptop and cell phone once you exit the building. You will have no department access, you understand?”

  “This doesn’t feel like I’m the innocent party here. What’s Carol done?”

  “I can’t tell you that. I’m on your side, Irene.”

  Yeah, she wasn’t so sure of that, but what option did she have? The Company had always been layered in secrets. Before, she’d thought those secrets were there to protect them. Now she wasn’t as sure.

  …

  Friday, Switzerland