Beneath the Surface

by Amy McKinley

  “Talk.” Elbows to knees, he waited. He could wait all damn day.

  “What do you want me to tell you, Jack? That I’m a spy? That I belong nowhere? That I’m able to do what I do because I have nothing else to lose?”

  “Enough!” Jack growled. “Where is the goddamn weapon? Where is Chris?”

  “What? I don’t know where Chris is. As for the weapon, I’m working on finding out.”

  He said nothing. She had to be lying.

  “I’m telling you the truth.” Deflating before him, she pulled the towel from her head and dropped it beside her. Shoving the damp hair from her face, she puffed out a tired breath. “I’m a Russian sleeper agent. When the plane crashed, the pilot activated me… and took the briefcase that held the prototype. My orders were to locate where Chris landed and bring him to the next checkpoint in case he was needed for the weapon.”

  “But you didn’t do that.” A grain of hope sparked in his heart. He’d overheard the man question her as to Chris’s whereabouts. In that, at least, she told the truth.

  “Last I saw him, Mari was looking after him. He was unconscious, but it didn’t appear to be serious. By now, he should be across the border.”

  “Mari? Is she another spy? Why didn’t you deliver him as you were ordered to?”

  “You know nothing.” Hannah spat, her upper lip lifted in a sneer.

  “I know enough to have you arrested for treason.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “I will. It’s only a matter of time.” Jack’s features hardened, and he let her see the fury in the depths of his eyes. “Fuck it. Let’s do that now.”

  Hannah’s body tensed, and a sultry chuckle rolled from her lips. “You can try, but you have to know there’s no way in hell I’ll let you take me in.”

  Jack stood, his gun free of the holster. As he crossed the small space, he didn’t hide his intentions. He let the fury show on his face.

  “No.” Hannah jumped to her feet, agony and anger a compelling mix in her light eyes. “They took everything from me. My sister. It’s time to return the favor.” With a glare, she turned so her back was to him.

  “The Pentagon or the CIA?”

  “The Russians who raised me.”

  “You expect me to believe that? So you decided to work as what, a double agent? Turn on your Russian comrades? Where does that leave you?”

  “With no country to call my own.” Her voice was monotone, defeated. “I already told you that.”

  Weighing her words, he pushed, needing to be sure she spoke the truth. “So when you meet your contact at the next point, without Chris and without the weapon, then what?”

  Whirling to face him, she bared her teeth. “Kill them all.”

  “That’s your plan? How will that get you off the hook? All your superiors can’t be there.”

  A cold smile curved her lips. “I only need to find one.”

  “Seems like there are a lot of holes in your plan and a lot of things that could go wrong.”

  She shrugged. “That’s possible, but I won’t fail. As I told you, I have nothing to lose.”

  “But you do. You say you have no country. If we work together, there could be a way for you to be granted a reprieve.”

  “I’ve thought of that. It’s the only reason we are still talking.”

  “Is that the reason you broke things off between us? You were getting too close?”

  Lips pursed, she changed the topic. “What are you going to do now, Jack? Will you turn me in? Seems like it wouldn’t be the best idea, considering I could lead you to the weapon and Russian agents.”

  Pivoting, he went over to the only small table in the room and rapped his knuckles against the top of it. He could easily turn her in and be done with the cluster fuck. But she had a valid point. The weapon was top priority. In addition, she could lead him to Russian agents who were working against his country. It was an opportunity too good to pass up.

  “What’ll it be, Jack?”

  He frowned. “I think you know exactly what I’ll do.”

  Her postured eased, and some of the tension that kept her back ramrod straight relaxed.

  Tapping his finger against his leg, he held her gaze. “I do have a condition.”

  She held still.

  “First off, be aware I’ll shoot you if you make one wrong move. Without thought, Hannah. You won’t make a single move, a single step, without involving me. We’re partners in this, or it won’t work, and I’ll have no choice but to turn you over to the CIA.”

  “I understand. But I have stipulations as well. Two of them. One, you don’t call any of this in to the CIA, at least not yet. And two, I’m the lead on this.”

  “You have no leg to stand on. I’ll say who I feel needs to know in the CIA. You can pretend you’re the lead, but we both know that won’t be the case here. You’re on borrowed time. While I agree that you’ll be the one to establish contact, I reserve the right to call an audible at any point, should I deem it necessary.”

  She pursed her lips. “I don’t like that last part.”

  “Too bad. You’re getting a hell of a deal here. I’d take it, unless you’d prefer I hand you over to the government now.”

  Huffing, she jerked her head in a sharp affirmative nod. “Fine.”

  Slipping his gun back in its holster, he worked to calm his still pulsing anger. He leaned his shoulder against the wall and shoved his hands in the front pockets of his pants. “Now, all we have to do is go over our next steps. Specifically, what will happen at the checkpoint.”

  Chapter 16

  Hannah

  The heat was sweltering despite the cool afternoon rains. Hannah pulled her sticky shirt from her body for a brief moment. As she walked, she trailed her fingers along the bumpy texture of the building’s side where Ilya had instructed she was to meet her contact.

  Jack had said he would be close by, monitoring her at all times. She’d been surprised he’d returned her gun.

  She didn’t hurry. She had about five minutes until she was due. Her foot faltered as the tension of the meeting with the other operative slammed into her and inadvertently triggered a memory from nine years before. A quake ran through her body, and she blinked away tears, wishing she could just as easily do the same with the pain of her memories. Contact with people from her former world brought everything she kept at bay rushing back, and she was helpless against the sound of her sister’s voice on the night she died running through her head.

  The door had clicked, and Hannah lifted her head from her pillow. With narrowed eyes, she could just make out Elsa’s form as she snuck into their room.

  “You’re gonna get caught, El.”

  Elsa jumped, startled. Flicking off her shoes with a muffled thump, she hurried over to her bed, dropping clothes as she went. “Nice slang, sis.”

  Hannah scowled. “We’re supposed to use it so we blend.”

  “Yeah.” Elsa smirked. “I know. I was just teasing you.” Pulling the covers back, she settled under the blankets, and her eyes sparkled in the moonlight from the small divide in their curtains. “I had the best night, Han.”

  Shoving her elbow onto her pillow, Hannah rested her head on her hand, ready for a vivid recanting from her sister of her latest date. She didn’t understand Elsa’s boy-crazed mentality, but she did worry. If Elsa were to get caught, there would be repercussions. “Was this the new boy you met in the library?”

  Elsa threw herself on her pillow, her face breaking out into a wide smile. “Yes, and he’s perfect.”

  “I doubt that. He’s a boy.”

  “You just don’t understand, Han. Maybe it’s because you’re a late bloomer and only sixteen.”

  She rolled her eyes. It wasn’t long until she’d be seventeen. “Sixteen is old enough, El. Besides, it’s tough to be a kid here. I don’t really get why you’re wasting your time on boys. Risking getting caught. This is more like a prison than anything else. And… you’re leaving soon. Next yea
r...”

  Elsa’s grin fell away, and she met Hannah’s gaze. “I know. I’m worried about that too, sis. But there is every possibility I could end up on assignment with you. Or him…”

  Hannah sighed. There was no derailing her when she was in full-fledged boy-worship mode. “Fine. Tell me about your date.” Under her breath, she mumbled, “As much as it’s a date when sneaking around the dorms or library.”

  “He’s more like a man.”

  Hannah tried to focus, but it wasn’t anything new, and she was tired. Her sister was eighteen. Two years older than her and thinking the guy she liked was mature. Doubtful.

  “It was magical. He kissed me, and I swear my toes curled.” She leaned forward. “With tongue, Han. It was… there are no words to describe how I felt. And his chest is perfection, even with the half-moon scar over his heart.” She waved her offhanded comment away.

  “I’m glad you had fun, El, but gross. That’s seriously too much information.”

  Elsa laughed. “One day you’ll know what I’m talking about, and it won’t be all about the training and the competition for you.” She lurched up. “Oh, I almost forgot. He’s been keeping track of things around here and who is assigned where.”

  “Why is he doing that? And how?”

  “He has connections with a few who report to the man who runs the school. As to why: power. He plans to move up in the organization, and he said it pays to know things.”

  No kidding. But still.

  “Anyway, it could be a way for us to find each other if we’re not put on the same assignment. Of course, I’ll have to stay in touch with him.” She beamed.

  Oh. That grabbed her attention. “What exactly is on this list, and did you see it?”

  “No. But it’s got names of some of our superiors, some details about missions and assignments, and something else too, but I can’t remember.” Elsa yawned and lay back, pulling the covers up as she got comfortable. “Good night, Han.”

  “Night, El.” Hannah had shoved her hair from her face and settled back into her bed, unsure what Elsa’s ramblings meant for them.

  A small pebble bounced off Hannah’s shoulder, and she jerked. Jack. Fully back in the present, she shook her head to rid herself of the past and glanced up. Jack pointed to the corner, a scowl etched across his handsome features, and she cursed. Head in the game, Hannah. At least the rain had lessened to an annoying drizzle.

  The acrid scent of smoke drifted in the air, and she firmed her resolve. Her ice mask back in place, she pulled her gun out and slipped around the side of the building. He leaned against the worn planks of the adjacent wall, the end of his cigarette blazing orange. It wasn’t Ilya. It was another agent, heavyset in a way that screamed brute force. He pushed away, and she took in his scruffy features. Do I know him?

  Is he from my past? Did I know him growing up in the dorms, where I learned to kill a man fifty different ways, how to sneak in and out like a ghost, and where I became a weapon in the art of war?

  Her gaze crawled over him in a matter of seconds, summing up where his weapons would most likely be, the threat he posed should he turn on her, and any other notable traits.

  Messy brown hair stuck up in random clumps, along with a full beard. Both were too unkempt for an office job. He was about her height, all of five feet six inches. His sweat-stained shirt hung over a protruding belly and thick arms. Seriously, he’s active duty?

  As she made her assessment, so did he. His hardened brown eyes locked onto hers after he slowly perused her form. “Hannah.” It wasn’t a question.

  * * *

  She nodded.

  “Where’s the tech guy?”

  “Is he needed?”

  “Is this going to be a problem?” He flashed uneven teeth through lips that pulled down in a frown, and his shoulders tensed.

  She shook her head. “I know where he is if he’s required.”

  Seconds passed as he scrutinized her. “He is not. Everything that was needed was inside the briefcase.”

  “What are my orders?”

  He flicked the cigarette from between his fingers and ground it out in the cracked pavement. “Go back to the States, get yourself cleared to return to work, and wait to be contacted.”

  “You realize they think I’m dead.”

  “Not my problem. Figure it out.” He went to turn then stopped to look at her over his shoulder. “Make your reinstatement to your American job happen quick.”

  Not wasting any more time, they parted ways, and she successfully resisted the urge to kill him. It wasn’t the time. Even when silent, he seemed in a hurry. He could’ve been meeting another in her organization. Raising alarms in an early stage of the game was not ideal.

  With quick strides, she made her way back to the hostel she and Jack were staying in. They’d gotten lucky and had the single bedroom to themselves, as opposed to camping with all the others in a large room. It wasn’t optimal to be in a place with paper-thin walls and questionable cleanliness, but it was the best they could do for the time being.

  There were three others, who were either still asleep or just recently awake and with coffee or tea in hand. She bypassed the other inhabitants and made her way to their room. With a turn and push, she let herself inside. Her ears strained in an attempt to hear Jack’s approach. It didn’t matter—he was close by. She could feel him. Not more than two seconds later, Jack followed through the doorway, only to stop short when he met the barrel of her gun.

  “Can’t be too careful.” She purred.

  Tension crackled between them like a live wire. Her body was heated, and it wasn’t from the insanely hot weather in Colombia. I want him. He wouldn’t welcome her advances. That she knew. Distrust was a tangible presence between them. He wouldn’t soften to her until he heard Chris was safe, back with his guys. I can wait. Because she remembered, achingly so, how it had been between them. Every touch sent her body spiraling. Nothing would ever come close to how he made her feel, both physically and mentally. He’d been the one—her other half. And she’d had to let him slip between her fingers as she wasn’t supposed to enter a committed relationship.

  Moving the barrel away from his chest, Jack frowned. “There is no way in hell you’re stepping foot back in the Pentagon.” He paced. “Did you know him?”

  “No. I don’t believe my path has ever crossed his before.” He was going to have to get on board with her, or she’d leave him behind and do things her way. She set her gun down on the rickety bedside table then sat on the thin mattress. She pulled herself up against the frail headboard and snapped, “Then what do you suggest I do about returning to my old job? Regardless, we need to get out of Colombia and back to DC.”

  “I have a way, but my contact will need full disclosure.”

  She drummed her fingers on top of her thigh. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

  “There isn’t any other option. It’s that or you give Henry a call and come clean to him that you’re a spy.”

  She scowled. It wasn’t by choice. “If I talk with your contact, what guarantees do I have that he won’t try to throw me into prison?”

  “There aren’t any.”

  Chapter 17

  Russia

  Hannah—11 years old

  Elsa was singing in our shared bathroom again. I don’t know how she found it within her to be happy. She always saw the glass as half full, while to me it was half empty. The loss we’d suffered hit me all over again as she breezed into our room and flashed me the kind of smile that made me think all was right in the world. It wasn’t.

  “Don’t you miss them, El?”

  Tears formed in my sister’s eyes, and I immediately felt guilty. But with our parents gone—dead—there were times when it was painful to make myself function.

  “Of course I miss them. I’d give anything to have things go back to how it was when they were alive. I’d even do those blasted Lego games Dad was crazy about.”

  A small grin sprea
d across my mouth, the first real one since we’d attended our parents’ funeral. “He’d go crazy if it wasn’t exact. I don’t know why it mattered so much. We always had to dismantle them and put them away. It’s not like they were a school project.”

  Elsa flopped on her bed in the small room we shared at our new home—school. “I even miss the sound of Mom and Dad yelling at each other. I just wish it hadn’t been because of me so much.” Her voice broke, and as her bottom lip trembled, a tear rolled down her cheek.

  I jumped up at the sound of pain tearing my sister apart and moved to sit next to her. “It wasn’t. I was the catalyst of a lot of those fights. I don’t think it was really about anything we’d done. He was so insistent on getting us into the Academy. That’s what it was really about, El. He only yelled at Mom when we messed up at the puzzles or gymnastics.”

  “I know. But it felt like I screwed up so much. I tried to be perfect. Mom worked harder with me, I know it. And now, we don’t have a coach anymore. We probably aren’t Olympic hopefuls either.”

  “I think you’re right about the Olympics. I don’t really care about that with everything that’s happened.”

  Elsa rolled her eyes. “I don’t understand why. It all came so easy to you. No matter what they asked, you could do it. Gymnastics, the puzzles, even learning new languages like English. It’s just easier for you. I have to work harder.”

  “El, it doesn’t matter anymore. We’re here. For good. Besides, we’re good at different things. We balance each other.”

  Elsa huffed.

  “Did you notice that when that lady showed us around the school, all we saw were classrooms?”

  “Yeah, but there’s more to the school. Didn’t you catch the name? What our parents would argue about.”

  A sense of dread filled me. “I did. The Academy. The place our parents fought over so much.”

  “Dad got his wish. We’re here now.” Elsa sniffed as more tears ran down her face.