Undercover Accomplice

by Carol Ericson

  “Jacqueline was seeing a dangerous, violent man. The more she tried to get away from him, the more ferociously he went after her, and protective orders did nothing to stop him because he had diplomatic immunity here. But I finally stopped him.”

  “How?”

  “I knew he’d been supplying information about some of his country’s dealings to sources who were then using that intel against his country to strike favorable deals.” She shoved her hands beneath her thighs. “I told his country.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “I don’t know. He disappeared and Jacqueline never heard from him or saw him again.”

  Hunter whistled. “Do you think he was killed? Was it one of those countries?”

  She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “Any country can be one of those kinds of countries.”

  “I suppose you’re right. The US has had our share of spies working against us, but it looks like we’re dealing with corruption at the highest levels here. I guess anything is possible.” He held out his phone to her. “Are you going to put the address in my GPS or am I going to drive blindly into the night in a car that’s on its last legs...wheels?”

  “There is no address, or at least not that I’m aware of, but I have the directions up here.” She tapped her forehead.

  “Then take me home, but when we stop for gas, I’m going to need some coffee and some food. We haven’t had anything to eat since that late lunch, and we’ve been through an explosion and a whirlwind escape from the hotel.”

  “Let me know if you want me to drive.” Sue curled one leg beneath her. “I hope The Falcon’s files have enough to prove my innocence. Someone at the Agency has to know what she was doing. With all the money and support we had, she couldn’t have been running a rogue operation.”

  “And her black ops contact at the CIA can’t be our insider, or he never would’ve allowed her to compile the information she got.”

  Sue shivered. “That’s a scary thought—the one person who can verify The Falcon’s existence is the one working with this terrorist group.”

  “I have a feeling the insider is terrified of black ops groups like The Falcon’s. Those groups are the very ones that could uncover a leak or a spy within.”

  “There’s just one problem.”

  “What?”

  “Why hasn’t this person stepped forward yet?”

  “The Falcon just died this afternoon. Her contact may not even know that yet.” Hunter squeezed her knee. “It’ll be okay, Sue. I’m not gonna let this end any other way—I’ve got a son to meet.”

  They drove through the night, stopping for gas, coffee and snacks. As they began to head east, toward the coast, Sue studied the road signs and the landmarks.

  She’d never been to this safe house before, but The Falcon had drilled its location along with countless other details into Sue’s head for so long, she felt as if she’d been this way before.

  “Here, here, here.” She hit the window with the heel of her hand. “Turn right here.”

  “Are you sure?” Hunter turned the wheel, anyway. “It looks dark and deserted. I hope you’re not directing me right into the water.”

  “The isolation is the point...and the water is farther out with a few more houses scattered out there.” She hunched forward in her seat, gripping the edge of the dashboard. “Turn left at the big tree. It should be a gravel road—not quite unpaved.”

  The little car bounced and weaved as they hit the gravel, but the headlights picked out a clapboard house ahead with a wooden porch.

  “That’s it. I think you can park around the back.”

  The car crawled around the side of the house and Hunter cut the engine. “Let’s leave the stuff in the car so we can check it out first. I suppose you know where to find the key.”

  “Exactly.” She took his cell phone because she was running out of ones of her own and she hadn’t had a chance to charge the temp phone she’d picked up at the gas station. She turned on the flashlight and stepped from the car.

  Several feet from the house, she spotted the rock garden and she lit up the ground below her to avoid tripping over the uneven surface. She counted three rocks from the left and crouched before it, digging her fingers in the dirt to tip it over.

  Bugs scurried at the invasion while she sifted the dirt with her fingers. “Got it.”

  She pulled the key free from its hiding place and wiped it clean on the thigh of her jeans.

  She returned to Hunter waiting by the car, his gun drawn. She pointed to the weapon dangling by his side. “Expecting company?”

  “You never know.”

  She held up the key in the light. “I think this works on the back door, too.”

  Hunter dogged her steps as she walked to the back of the small house and unlocked the back door.

  She pushed open the door, clenching her jaw. Something had to go right. This had to work. Creeping to the front of the house with Hunter right behind her, she held the phone in front of her. She sniffed, the musty odor making her nose twitch.

  Hunter voiced her thoughts. “Hasn’t been used for a while, has it?”

  “Doesn’t smell like it, but then I think this particular place was sitting in reserve for me and I never needed it...until now.” She twisted on the switch for a lamp centered on an end table and a yellow glow illuminated the comfortable furniture.

  “Looks more like my nana’s place than a spy hideaway.” Hunter picked up a throw pillow, punched it once and dropped it back onto the sofa.

  “That’s the point.” Sue wandered into the kitchen and flicked on the light. “It’s supposed to be stocked—with all kinds of things.”

  Hunter crowded into the kitchen next to her and tugged open the fridge. “Not much in here. Bottled water, which I could actually use right now.”

  Sue reached past him to open the cupboard door. She shuffled through some cans of food and freeze-dried pouches. “This is more like it. Stuff for the long haul. I don’t know how often these safe house supplies are replenished.”

  Hunter leaned over her shoulder and picked up one of the packets and threw it back into the cupboard. “Ugh, looks like an MRE. I’ll pass on these for the local pizza joint.”

  Sue returned to the living room and turned in a circle, her hand on her hip. She’d seen this room and knew just where to look.

  “Do you have a knife on you?”

  Hunter reached for his belt and produced a switchblade. “What do you need?”

  Sue knelt in front of the fireplace and lifted the braided rug. She placed her hand on the wood slats and rocked back and forth. When she felt some give, she pounded the board with her fist. “Here. Try here.”

  Hunter crouched beside her and jimmied the blade of his knife between the two slats. When he got a lip on one, he pulled it up to reveal a cavity in the floor.

  He scooted onto his belly and put his face to the space. “There’s a canvas bag in there, along with a few spiders. We’ll need a bigger space to bring it up.”

  Sue curled her hand around the next slat and yanked it free. They had to dislodge one more before they were able to lift the bag from the space beneath the floor.

  Hunter swung it out and plopped it onto the floor.

  Sue eyed it, wrinkling her nose. “Are those spiders gone?”

  “Badass spy like you worried about a few spiders?”

  “Yes.”

  Hunter kicked the bag a few times. “That should do it. Are you sure it’s not booby-trapped?”

  “Why would there be a booby-trapped bag in a safe house?”

  “I have no idea how you people operate, but just in case, I’ll let you open it first.”

  “What a man.” She pinched his side.

  Leaning over, she unzipped the bag and peeled back the canvas. She clicked her tongue as s
he ran her hands through the stacks of cash. “Nice. Having all this means never having to use your credit card.”

  She dug in deeper and pulled out a gun. “Untraceable I’m sure.”

  Hunter dived in next to her and withdrew handfuls of minicameras, GPS trackers, a small flashlight. “This is a mini stash of the same stuff she had in the storage unit.”

  “Minus the fire suits.” Sue rubbed her arms and looked around the room. “I hope we don’t need those here.”

  Hunter scooted back, sitting on the floor and leaning his back against the sofa. “We can stay here for a few days and catch our breath. Really look over The Falcon’s files on Denver and this whole assignment and get your name cleared once and for all. Get you back to Drake where you belong.”

  “Which reminds me.” Sue held up one finger. “I need to get that phone charged so I can call my parents tomorrow morning, just to make sure everything’s okay. I suppose I’m going to have to tell my father that I’m under investigation. I’m sure the CIA investigators are going to pay them a visit.”

  “Maybe not. They might be afraid of tipping off your parents and having them shield you and hide you.”

  “Funny thing is? They probably wouldn’t.”

  “It’s late, Sue. I’m going to bring in our bags and then you’re going to get some sleep.”

  “You, too.”

  “Yeah, of course.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Right. You have no intention of sleeping, do you? You’re going to be on guard all night long.”

  “I’ll catch some shut-eye. Don’t worry about me.” He stood up and made for the back door.

  Sue zipped up the bag and dragged it next to the fireplace. The day’s events caught up to her and she sank onto the sofa. She didn’t even blink when Hunter came through the back door, hauling their suitcases.

  The sofa dipped as he sat beside her, pulling her against his chest. “Do you think the beds are made up?”

  She murmured against his shirt, “I don’t care at this point. I’m going to fall asleep right here.”

  He kissed her temple. “Stay right here.”

  Sue must’ve drifted off. It seemed like hours later when Hunter returned and took off her shoes, lifted her legs to the sofa and spread a blanket over her body.

  He sat back down in the corner and shifted over so that her head nestled on his lap, as he stroked her temple.

  A smile curved her lips. Whatever happened now, she could endure it as long as Hunter stayed right by her side.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Her lashes fluttered, and she reached for Hunter. When her hand met the sofa cushion instead of the warm flesh she’d expected, she bolted upright.

  “I’m in here.” Hunter waved from the kitchen across the room. “I’m making oatmeal if you’re interested, but we have to skip the bananas, blueberries, almonds, brown sugar and everything else that makes it remotely tasty.”

  “Breakfast?” Sue rubbed her eyes, running her tongue along her teeth, which she’d been too tired to brush last night. “I didn’t even realize it was morning.”

  “You slept soundly.”

  “Did you sleep at all?” She gathered her hair into a ponytail.

  “A little.” He held up the burner phone she’d bought yesterday. “It’s fully charged, and better yet, it’s not being tracked by The Falcon.”

  She yawned and shrugged off the blanket. “I wonder who pays the utility bills for this place to keep the gas, water and electricity running.”

  “Probably comes from some supersecret spy slush fund.”

  She joined him in the kitchen and watched him stir hot water into some instant oatmeal. “Not bad. I’ll have some of this coffee first, though.”

  She leaned her elbows on the counter and plucked the phone from the charger. She entered her father’s cell phone number, although at this point it might be worse talking to him than Linda.

  “Hi, Dad.”

  Hunter held a finger to his lips. He didn’t want her to give Dad the lowdown on her situation in case the CIA hadn’t contacted them yet.

  “Hi, Sue.” Her father didn’t even ask her about the new phone number. He knew. “Drake’s just fine, although he misses his...cousins.”

  Sue’s shoulders sagged. For a minute, she thought Drake had been missing her. “I hope you’re keeping him busy. He likes blocks and he loves riding his tricycle.”

  “He sure is an active boy.” Dad cleared his throat. “We had a surprise this morning.”

  “Oh?” Sue’s heart picked up speed.

  “A friend of yours named Dani Howard called and asked if she could stop by for a visit. Says her daughter plays with Drake there in DC?”

  Sue patted her chest and sucked in a breath. “That’s right. She told me she was driving down to Savannah to visit her folks and said she’d stop in to see Drake.”

  “Okay, just checking. She’s going to call back, and I’ll tell her it’s fine.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” She threw a quick glance at Hunter, pouring a cup of coffee. “Sh-should you put Drake on the line? I’ll say a quick hi.”

  “He’s outside on that trike already, Sue. Maybe later. This a new number for you?”

  “For the time being. Don’t program it in your phone or label it.”

  “I know better.”

  Sue’s mind flashed back to her father’s fake passports in The Falcon’s storage unit. I bet you do.

  “Okay, then. Just keep me posted. Everything else...all right?”

  “Everything’s just fine. We’ll have Drake back at Amelia’s just as soon as they return from the Bahamas.”

  “Maybe he’ll be returning to me instead.”

  Hunter’s hand pouring the condensed milk jerked and he splashed milk on the counter.

  Her father paused for several seconds. “Why would you say that? Mission over? Won’t there be another?”

  “We’ll talk about it later. Just keep my little boy safe.” She ended the call and tucked the phone into her purse.

  “Drake’s okay?” Hunter shoved a cup of coffee at her.

  “He’s fine. Apparently, he’s always just fine without me.” She blew on the coffee before sipping it.

  “You meant what you said to your father? That Drake will be going back home with you?”

  “The Falcon’s dead. These assignments, this lifestyle I have is too dangerous for a parent. As soon as I’m clear, I’m done.”

  He scooped up a spoonful of oatmeal and studied it. “I’m not arrogant enough to tell you what to do, but I think it’s a good idea—if you can manage it.”

  “I have to get out of this mess first, or Drake will be visiting me behind bars—both of us.”

  After two more tastes, Hunter gave up on the lumpy oatmeal and dropped the bowl into the sink. “Who’s driving down to Savannah and stopping in to see Drake?”

  “My friend Dani Howard. She has a daughter around Drake’s age.”

  “Is she the one you went out with the night you ran into Jeffrey?”

  “Same. Thank God he left her alone. Jeffrey’s cohort must’ve had orders not to hurt her.”

  “Does Dani know what you do for a living?” Hunter rinsed out the bowl and held out his hand for hers.

  “I’m willing to give it a try.” She yanked the bowl back and held it to her chest. “Dani? Yeah, she knows I’m with the Agency but not much more, of course.”

  “And what does she do?”

  “She’s a nurse.” Sue wrapped her hands around her bowl and walked to her suitcase. She unzipped the outside pocket and pulled out the file folders she’d rescued from fire and mayhem.

  “I think it’s time for me to have a good long look at these and try to decipher The Falcon’s notes. They’re my only chance right now.”

  She brought the files to the ki
tchen table, and as she dropped them, the contents spilled out of one of them. She pinched a newspaper clipping between two fingers and she waved it in the air. “From a French newspaper, but it looks old. Probably nothing to do with Denver.”

  “You read French, don’t you?”

  “Oui, oui.” She pulled up a chair and scooted under the table. She brought the article close to her face, translating out loud a story about a bombing in a Paris café that took the lives of four people, one a child.

  When she finished reading, Sue pressed the article to her heart. “How awful. This sounds familiar.”

  “It’s all too familiar.” He leaned over her shoulder and plucked up another article. “Looks like it could be the same story.”

  She took it from his fingers and scanned it. “Yes, the same story, different newspaper or maybe a follow-up.”

  Straddling the chair next to her, Hunter asked, “Why was she keeping this story in particular? She must’ve worked a lot of these types of cases.”

  “Maybe she has more articles on more cases, but I didn’t happen to pick those up.”

  “But these were filed in the same cabinet as the Denver material.” Hunter rubbed his chin and shuffled through the folder. He slid another article toward him with his forefinger. “This one has an accompanying picture.”

  He squinted at the two women and one man, grim-faced, looking away from the camera. “What’s this one say, Sue?”

  Her gaze flicked over the words. “They’re the victims, or the victims’ family members.”

  “Sue,” Hunter bumped her shoulder with his as he ducked over the article. “Doesn’t that look like a young Falcon? And I don’t mean the bird.”

  “What? No.” She smoothed her thumb across the pinched face of a woman, her sharp chin dipping to her chest. “This one?”

  “Exactly.” He circled her face with his fingertip. “You said The Falcon didn’t have a family. How’d you know that?”

  “When she was telling me how I needed to leave you and then give up Drake, she implied that this job and a family didn’t mix. I just assumed she was speaking from experience.”