by Amy McKinley
“I talked to Rich, my CIA contact, and he’s covering for us—for now. He’ll put the word out that you were rescued, that Chris was helping you, and that you’re just now back. That way, if any of the sleeper agents have access to the details of your return, it’ll look plausible. I know we didn’t see anyone in the files, but we need to look again. I have a high security-clearance level.”
“Of course.” She straightened her spine and marched past him to the laptop, her coffee left behind. A tug at her arm stopped her forward momentum, and she swung back around with raised eyebrows. “Is there something else?”
Lines appeared around his mouth, and she tensed. “You may have to go in to work. We have no idea what’s being planned with that weapon.”
“I know,” she said softly but with the weight of potential lives lost. When his hand loosened, she pulled away and sat down in front of her laptop to go over, once more, every detail about the employees who were there on the day she and Henry left on the private jet. Jack logged her in, and she set to work.
Hours passed. She returned to the three people who could have had access to the plane. There was no way the pilot would have been able to pull everything off himself. He’d only had clearance to go on the plane when they had, so there wouldn’t have been time for him to tamper with the engine. Once they’d identified the pilot, who had used the alias John Mitchell, Rich used facial-recognition software on his end to locate him.
She leaned back and stretched her neck. “I think I’ve got a few leads.”
Jack
The situation was unstable at best. Jack had left Hannah at the apartment to visit Rich and help pave the way for their plan. After the phone call the night before, Jack knew he needed to go to the CIA and meet with him.
The squeak of the desk chair pulled Jack from his heavy thoughts. Rich tapped his pen on his desk several times before resting his elbows there. “This is a bad idea.”
“There is no other way.” Jack’s shoulders tensed. “You know I’m right.”
“Giving her this type of freedom, of access to—” Rich stopped short and shook his head. “If things go south, and I’m pretty sure they will, this falls on me. My career, not to mention the nation, will be at risk.”
“We’ll all be at risk if something isn’t done here. You know it as well as I do. We can’t sit on our asses and do nothing. Hannah in jail will not help us. We need her.” Jack paused, measuring Rich’s stoic expression. “She isn’t fully against us. If she were, she wouldn’t have helped Chris. He would be dead.”
“How do you know you can trust her? There’s more to it. She worked here at the CIA. There are too many variables that all point to her sharing information with Russia. That’s treason, Jack.”
Well, it’s news to me that she worked with Rich. Doesn’t matter. Not now. “She is a spy.” He raised his finger when Rich opened his mouth to speak. “That’s not the main issue here. The weapon is, and you know it. As a sleeper agent, Hannah can help us, and her motivation to do so is sound.”
“How can that be? And at what risk? I took a huge gamble in letting you talk me into giving her CIA clearance back.”
“The risk outweighs the weapon in the wrong hands. We both know it has to be retrieved. She will lead us to other agents. She’s working on getting in deeper, infiltrating to recover the weapon.”
Rich tossed the pen he’d been toying with onto the desk and narrowed his eyes. One of his signature cigars found its way into his large hand, and he rolled it between his fingers. “I know about your relationship with her. Your feelings in the matter are compromised.”
“That’s bullshit.” Jack slapped his hands on the desk and stood, towering over the other man. “You know me better than that. I wouldn’t let anyone get in the way of the safety of my team and of our nation.”
With a shake of his head, Rich stood as well, rounded the desk, and came to face Jack. “You’d better be right.” He pushed out a heavy breath, looking as if he’d aged five years since Jack had seen him last. He took off his glasses and he rubbed his eyes. After they were back in place on the bridge of his nose, he ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. “I swear I’m going to regret this, but you haven’t disappointed me yet. I’ll clear her and reinstate her with the CIA, but I’m tracking every goddamn move she makes.”
“You won’t regret it.” Even as he said it, his mind clouded with the darkness of his past. This is different. But is it? He’d loved Jenni with his heart and soul, and despite his best intentions, he’d lost. She was a large part of why he’d gone into the military.
“Get back to her,” Rich boomed. “I don’t like her being alone for even a second. And keep your wits about you.”
Jack’s heart thumped. Adrenaline and irritation flooded him, and he clenched his jaw to keep from immediately lashing out. It was nothing new. His life had been a series of hurdles and confrontations, and the way Rich had just spoken brought forward the rebellious, calculating nature that’d kept him alive in a world that threw him away like garbage. “Not sure what you’re getting at, old man. You know me well enough.”
A grin spread across Rich’s face. “There you are.”
“I’m always here.” Menace lined his words.
“Yeah, but I needed to make sure that cold ruthlessness was still alive and kicking.”
Jack clenched his teeth as his anger simmered. “Don’t be an ass.” Rich provoking him made it clear that he too was worried about prior mistakes. What Rich didn’t know was that Jack would never forget—the smiling face of the girl he’d lost his soul to haunted his dreams every night. There would be no forgetting. Even though Hannah got the benefit of the doubt due to her own hellish past, he wouldn’t let his guard down, not in any way. That would cost him everything. Rich provoking him wasn’t doing anything but fueling the fire. “Make sure the list I requested is sent over ASAP.” With his parting words, Jack yanked the door open then slammed it as he left the office.
The discipline Jack had instilled in himself and the careful attention to detail flared into full alert during his conversation with Rich. Hannah wouldn’t be his ultimate downfall. He’d learned well from his past.
Chapter 21
Jack
Jack pushed his way into Hannah’s studio apartment, slamming the door against the wall. The bed remained rumpled from when they’d arrived and crashed for a few hours. He scanned the room, taking in every detail, from the discarded clothes to the laptop that was positioned about half an inch from where he’d set it the night before. His skin itched with aggression and a tinge of distrust after his conversation with Rich.
The running water and the soft thump from the bathroom told him Hannah was in the shower. Without her presence, the conversation he’d had with Rich and the precarious position they were all in roared to the surface once more. He’d told Rich the truth. He did trust her, just not to the detriment of his future or his team’s. There would be repercussions if he was wrong. Really, he should know better. Helping her could rain destruction upon their heads if it turned out that he was aiding and abetting a traitor, and that one mistake from his past had taught him all he’d needed to become who he was and to fine-tune his skills with deadly precision.
Dating Hannah and seeing a potential future with her had been a huge step, one he hadn’t contemplated since before Jenni had broken his heart. With Hannah’s compromised past, there would be no blind trust. He wouldn’t let her know he had remaining doubts, because he did, but the pain caused by her family’s death spoke to him. Even so, he wouldn’t allow his heart to rule his actions.
He took a seat at the desk and hit a key on the laptop’s keyboard to bring the screen to life then pulled up the internet browser and checked the history. Nothing popped up that he didn’t recognize. He typed in several commands to run the monitoring program he had Chris create and install. Then he scanned what really happened while he was away.
A search had been done in the US embassy’s database of
all families who’d traveled out of the States to Russia with children over the past couple of decades. Another search was for families who had returned after an accident abroad where the children were injured. The next was for study-abroad students, specifically those without a family waiting for their return in the States. Another piece of doubt slid away.
She had been looking for sleeper agents.
The screen shots showed she’d enlarged the pictures of the returned children and college students, pausing for several seconds on a few of them.
The water shut off. He closed the program and pulled up the CIA login instead. He typed in his access codes then went to his email. A new message was waiting from Rich, as promised. He opened the file attachment, and a list of all upcoming meetings with key personnel filled the screen.
The bathroom door opened, and Hannah emerged with a cloud of steam in her wake. In jeans and a T-shirt, she looked rested and comfortable—beautiful. Her dyed hair was combed out and pushed away from her face, the dark color making her light eyes pop even more than when she was blond. “How did it go?”
“As good as can be expected.” Jack drummed his fingers on the desk. “We’ve got the list of meetings and who is expected to attend.”
Hannah crossed the distance between them and pulled a chair up alongside his. Rubbing her hands along her legs, she leaned forward. “Henry mentioned he would be present at the UN Security Council meeting. Other than that, the only other meeting that would have people of power who the Academy may target for assassination is the summit meeting.”
“Speaking of Henry, he’s expecting a call from you.”
She nodded before turning her head to look at him. Resting her chin on her hand, she searched his face. “Does he know about me?” Concern laced her softly spoken words.
He wanted to believe her. Everything she said and did rang true, from her loyalty to her sister to her determination to see the mission through to the end. “Henry does not. He’s been briefed about your safe return and fed a story about re-capture and escape from another holding. Your intent was to contact the Pentagon at your earliest opportunity. That was the day the satellite captured your image in the Colombian town. So yes, he is aware, but no, he is not fully appraised of all you are.”
“Look, Jack.” She threaded her fingers together in her lap. “I’m not the only sleeper agent within the CIA or the Pentagon. There are others. You should also know Henry thought there was a mole. That’s why the prototype’s secrecy was so important. He told me that before we crashed and I was activated.”
“So you think it’s another Russian agent?” Does she know who? She gave nothing away. No telltale movement or widening of her eyes—she was expertly trained. So was he.
“Yes, I do.”
“I do as well.”
She lifted a pen from the desk and tapped the screen, pointing to two scheduled dates. One was in New York, and the other was a summit meeting that would be held several days afterward but not in the US. “We need to see who will be at the UN Security Council meeting and if any attendees look like they’d be an assassination target.”
“We?” Jack raised an eyebrow.
Pressing her lips together, she held his stare for a moment. “You know what I mean.”
With an audible pop, Jack cracked his neck. His meeting with Rich still ate at him, churning up memories he would prefer to lay to rest. Without meaning to, he’d been taking his aggravation out on Hannah. He scrubbed his face with his hands before leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. “You need to go in to work this afternoon. Henry is expecting you. When will you meet with another sleeper agent?”
“You know the same as I do. I’m supposed to return to work, where I’ll be contacted at some point.”
“Then let’s get on with it.” He pulled out a tiny stick pin. “There’s a camera and microphone in this.”
Hannah sneered at the device. “You can’t be serious. I’m not wearing that.”
Jack put the jewelry on the desk and crossed his arms. “I’m not playing around. If you’re contacted at any point, I want to know immediately.”
With a disgusted wave at the offending pin, Hannah motioned him over to the computer as she took a seat at the desk. “I found the Russian agent I met with in Colombia.”
Now we’re getting somewhere. Jack caged her in with an arm on the desk and one on her chair so he too could view the monitor as she pulled up her research.
Ilya had arrived the day before they did and looked to be working for a US security company who also provided qualified and vetted personal assistants.
With another quick scan, he pressed a couple of keys on the keyboard, opened up a private message with Rich, and sent him the information. Afterwards, he sent it to Connor on his team to get another set of eyes on it. They needed information, and Ilya would be the one to give it to them—he just didn’t know it yet.
Chapter 22
Russia
Hannah—16 years old
I sat on my bed with a book about secret codes open in my lap. It was dry and boring, but I had to get the homework done. I both hated and loved it there. The classes were challenging, and the courses in philosophy and psychology were fascinating. Elsa and I both had those classes. I liked them more than she did. But as we were together for a few classes, I could help her understand the concepts. She could help me with the social aspects, such as extracting information in a seamless manner.
I’d do anything for my sister.
The sound of the TV droned in the background. It was playing a movie we were required to watch. Another American movie. Some of the kids watched them together. Elsa did that too, but usually with whichever boy she was interested in at the time. We weren’t allowed to be in boys’ dorm rooms, but the library was a different story. She said they watched in there, but I didn’t believe her. I would have to explain the details of the movie when she came back on those nights with lips swollen from kissing and stars in her eyes. At least she was happy. I would always cover for her and help her, so she would never get caught.
There was a new boy she liked but hadn’t gotten close to yet. She said he was perfect, but that was doubtful—he was a boy. For the time being, she filled her spare moments with another boy. She said it was only a matter of time before she got the one she had her eyes on.
Gross. I didn’t know what she saw in them. She said I was a late bloomer when it came to dating. I didn’t care. I was interested, just not in the boys who went to that school. What I did like was beating them when we sparred. That was the only physical contact I was interested in having with them.
I opened my geography textbook and studied the terrain I was to have memorized for class the next day. My mind worked funny. All I had to do was look at a picture once, and I’d have access to it anytime I wanted, sort of like a computer. Then I could pull the image up when needed. That helped when we were brought here in the beginning and I was tested. It meant I was able to attend the same classes and time periods as Elsa. I kept my computer-like mind a secret—the less they knew, the more comfortable I was.
They didn’t start separating us for a few years. It had started with little things—the dancing and “fluff classes,” as some of us called them. Elsa loved them, so I was happy for her, but I still wished we were together more.
There would be a day when we wouldn’t be.
Some of the kids around our age had already been placed wherever our supervisors wanted them in the world. How, I wasn’t exactly sure. The older ones in the wing we didn’t have access to, who were recruited after college, were inserted in other ways, or so I’d been told. It was a worry always in the back of my mind. Especially since Elsa was older than me.
I jumped a little as our door opened and hit the wall. One of the espionage instructors walked in with his arm around Elsa’s waist. My body was on alert, ready for anything. “What happened?”
She stumbled beside him, her legs noodley and her eyes half-mast.
“She’s fine. Just needs rest,” he said as he helped her to her bed.
Pale and sweating, Elsa curled into a ball as he left. I would have killed him if he’d done something to hurt her.
I dropped to my knees in front of her and smoothed her hair from her face. “What happened?”
She moaned.
They will die. I’ll find each of them that’d hurt her. It didn’t matter that I was only sixteen. I excelled at fighting. I knew how to use any object as a weapon, be it a book, pen, lamp, towel… it didn’t matter. I will make them pay.
“Elsa,” I urged. I needed to know who hurt her. Was it just him, or were there others?
“I’m fine.” Tears leaked from her eyes. “I’m not the only one who had surgery. They said it was necessary.”
I fell onto my bottom. “What? What kind? And why would you need surgery?”
“It was a tubal something. I can’t remember.” Her lids lifted, and she stared unwaveringly at me. “So I can’t get pregnant.”
What the hell?
Raw panic flooded my system. I sat there with my mouth hanging open and tears filling my eyes. My sister was eighteen, and they’d taken away her ability to have a child, something I knew she wanted desperately. On that horrific thought, another followed swiftly on its heels.
She’ll be leaving soon without me.
Chapter 23
Hannah
Present day
Hannah walked in from her apartment’s patio with her empty coffee cup in hand as Jack disconnected his call. They’d passed the evening yesterday plotting and going over what they would do regarding Ilya, her first contact in Colombia, the pilot, and the meeting.