Covert Affairs

by A. C. Grey

  * * * * *

  Lucy was so lost in her thoughts, in her frantic search, that she didn't hear anyone approach her. When she felt a hand lay upon her shoulder, she jumped nearly a mile. Heart racing, she turned, suddenly very relieved to see Meg standing there and not some terrorist.

  "Meg, you scared the hell out of me.”

  "You scared the hell out of me, Lucy. I woke up and you were gone. You could have been caught. You could have been killed. What about the mission? What the held do you think you're doing?" Meg whispered, her quiet tones laced with anger.

  "I was . . . I was . . .” Lucy struggled for a proper excuse.

  "Looking for Jakes. I thought we agreed that we needed to plan. That we couldn't be reckless. That he was secondary objective, as hard as that was. Or were you not there for that conversation?" Meg said, her dark eyes fiery with passion.

  "His name isn't Jakes,” was all Lucy responded.

  "What?" Meg asked, clearly confused.

  "His name isn't Jakes,” Lucy repeated. "It's Lt. James Crane.”

  "I don't know what you mean,” Meg said, still not following. Then the last name hit her.

  "Jakes was a code name. His name is Jim Crane.” Lucy said, her blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

  Meg knew what was coming, but she waited for Lucy to say it.

  Lucy let out a sigh as a tear fell. "And he's my brother.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  As Lucy said the words, she felt a weight lift off her chest. At last she'd admitted it. She hadn't known for sure that the captured Seal was Jim. She had had her suspicions, based on what little information she'd been able to pry out of his secretive commanding officer. However, she hadn't known until she'd seen that awful video feed. She didn't know if knowing made things better or worse. He was alive. But at what cost? And would he be alive by the end of the mission? Meg had a point. As much as it tore her heart to shreds, she knew that there were bigger things at stake. The lives of many thousands more people. Her heart and her head were at war. She knew that Jim wouldn't want to be saved at the cost of thousands of lives. Yet her heart screamed for his safety. Screamed that he should be priority number one. Her head knew it was selfish. Foolish. And the Marine in her, the woman that Col. Jeremiah Crane had raised to put country above all else, hated her moment of weakness. That woman inside of her silently thanked her lucky stars that Meg had caught her before she'd done something stupid. But was it really stupid to want to save her brother? She didn't know.

  For the first time in a long time, Meg didn't know how to respond. She was speechless. The emotions warring within her left her completely discombobulated. She felt stunned. She felt betrayed. She felt hurt. She felt angry. She felt confused. She felt sad. She was a mess. Reeling and unable to process, she allowed herself to give in to the anger. She'd given herself, all of herself, including her heart, to this woman. And what had she gotten in return? Lies. Deceit. She'd given Lucy her heart. And Lucy had seemingly just delivered that heart back to her, mangled on a silver platter.

  Lucy studied Meg's face, watching the varied emotions play across her expressive face. She waited anxiously, petrified of what Meg would do. She knew that she'd messed up. But she had been so desperate to see if the captive was in fact her brother that she'd kept it a secret. She hadn't wanted to jeopardize her chance to help Jim. To hell with anything else. She'd planned on finding out if he was the prisoner, then doing whatever it took to complete the mission. But even the best-laid plans go awry sometimes. And there was one major complication. She hadn't planned on was falling in love. So deeply, so quickly, so hard. Suddenly, things were no longer black and white. It was not just about Jim. Not just about the mission. Suddenly, what Meg thought, what Meg felt, mattered immensely. She struggled to breathe as she waited for some response from Meg. Her heart dropped as Meg turned on her heel and stormed off.

  Meg couldn't look at Lucy a second longer. She was beyond hurt. She was shattered. But she couldn't focus on that right now. There was still a mission to complete. Still a potential catastrophe to stop. This was for the best, she thought. Now, at least she knew where she stood. Lucy had obviously never cared for her. It had all been a ruse. Now she could focus on what really mattered – stopping Paolo and his goons and getting the hell out of this god-forsaken country and never looking back. Never thinking about the damned woman trailing behind her again.

  Lucy followed Meg, who was silently storming away. She felt silly, but didn't know what else to do. What could she do? She had clearly messed things up. Yet she desperately needed Meg to understand. She not only needed Meg to help save her brother . . . she needed her to . . . well, she just needed her. Like the air she breathed, she needed her.

  Meg's hands shook with fury as she tried to open the door to their rooms. In the short walk back, she'd managed to suppress any feelings that didn't suit her angry mood. "Damn it!" She cursed under her breath as she tried to put the key they'd been issued upon arrival into the lock. She took in a sharp intake of breath as Lucy calmly and silently took the key from her and easily inserted it into the door. She willed away the feelings of grief, remorse, betrayal, even sympathy for Lucy as the woman's intoxicating scent wafted over her. Just as quickly as it overtook her, it was gone as Lucy backed away, letting her lead the way into the room.

  "Meg . . .” Lucy said pleadingly, almost in a whisper. She was at a loss as to how to fix this.

  Meg ignored Lucy, digging through her bags, opening up a secret compartment that held her encrypted satellite phone. Grabbing it, she headed into the bathroom and turned on the shower, continuing to ignore Lucy, who was trailing after her like a lost puppy.

  Lucy sat on the closed lid of the toilet, saying nothing as Meg furiously dialed a number. She hated herself right now. Hated herself for her weakness. Hated her weakness in letting herself be so affected by this woman. Hated her weakness that led her to throw caution to the wind and go after Jim. Even though her heart screamed that both feelings were right – that being with Meg was right, that rescuing Jim was right, her mind said otherwise. She had no doubt what her father would say. That she'd once again let her emotions get the better of her. That she'd followed her heart and not her head. That she'd put her own selfish emotions ahead of what was right. Despite these nagging feelings, she couldn't shake what she felt deep down.

  There had to be a way to make this all work out. To get her happily ever after. An ending where the terrorists were stopped, where Jim was saved, where she got to ride off into the sunset with the woman of her dreams. The problem was, right now, she couldn't see a logical way of getting there. She knew that in life, you don't always get what you want. And she was petrified that she wouldn't get at least part of that happy ending. And she didn't know which part she could compromise on. Not one of the three seemed like something that she could live without. And yet, getting all three . . . didn't seem likely. In fact, she knew there was a very real possibility that everything could go wrong. It was hard to imagine living without Meg, living without Jim, and living with the knowledge that she'd cost thousands of people their lives. And yet, that was a real possibility. Meg's voice cut through her reverie.

  Meg said the requisite code words and was patched through to Director McManus.

  "Murphy. This better be good. Are you sure you're in a safe place to talk?" McManus asked.

  "As good as I can get, sir.”

  "What is it?" he asked.

  "I need a new technical analyst,” Meg replied brusquely.

  "What's wrong with Crane?" McManus asked.

  "She can't be trusted,” Meg said. Lucy's heart sank with those words. They were like a hot dagger to her gut. She knew that Meg had every right to feel that way, but it didn't make the wound any less painful.

  "Why exactly?” McManus responded.

  "Apparently the captured Seal is her brother, sir. And she snuck away to try and rescue him. Without telling me, without a plan, without any thought for the overall objectives of th
is mission.”

  "I see,” McManus replied calmly.

  Meg, a little irked that he wasn't furious, spoke incredulously. "You see? You act as if she just went off for a quick coffee break or something. You're not at all concerned that she kept the major fact that her brother is the captive from us? That she went rogue without regard for anything but her own personal interests?"

  "Murphy. You're overreacting. Yes, I don't approve of her little jaunt without you, but I'm sure she would have come to her senses. And frankly, there's no one else who has her particular set of skills. No one we can get on short notice. And lest you forget, you're already inside enemy lines. How do you expect to explain the appearance of a new person?"

  Meg sighed in frustration. "What about this whole thing with her brother? Talk about a conflict of interest. We can't trust her not to do something else stupid. She wasn't even up front with us about the fact that her brother might have been the captured Seal.”

  "There was no need,” McManus said. "I already knew it was him.”

  "What!" Meg exclaimed, perhaps a little too loudly, in disbelief.

  "We knew her brother was involved. We hoped that she'd be in the dark, but we realized she was smart, that she'd probably figure it out. But frankly, we needed her. There was no one else with her personalized expertise. And we needed someone who was sufficiently motivated. Someone not likely to bail at the first sign of danger.”

  "I can't believe this,” Meg said with resignation. "You could have told me.”

  "And what? Had you refuse to work with her from the get go?"

  Meg grumbled.

  "Put Crane on the phone. I'll talk to her about her little . . . field trip,” McManus said.

  Meg sighed again and handed the phone to Lucy.

  Lucy gulped as Meg silently handed her the phone. Her stomach was in knots. No, that was an understatement. Her stomach was probably folding into intricate origami shapes right now. Whether it was due to her fear of authority and the reaming she was undoubtedly about to get from McManus, or whether it was because of the royal mess she'd made of her relationship with Meg was unclear. She suspected both.

  "Hello?" she said timidly, as she put the phone to her ear.

  "Crane,” McManus said curtly.

  "Yes, sir?" Lucy replied, her stomach already tightening to new depths of knot-dom. If her father had done one thing, it was to instill in her a profound respect for authority and the rules. This was in addition to a love of country. For her entire life, she'd done nothing but try and live up to her father's expectations. To live by the rules. Being reprimanded, especially for jeopardizing her country, was not going to be comfortable or easy. She was incredibly thankful that Col. Jeremiah Crane was thousands of miles away and oblivious to her misbehavior. And she prayed he stayed that way.

  "What were you thinking?" McManus asked, his disappointment hitting Lucy much harder than anger would have.

  "I wasn't, sir. That was the problem. It's just . . . he's my brother,” Lucy said, hating herself for her moment of weakness, for letting her heart overcome her better judgment, her sense of duty. And she hated herself even more for thinking of it as a moment of weakness. It was Jim. How could it be wrong? But it certainly wasn't right either. Her heart was being wrenched in all sorts of horrible directions.

  "I know, Crane. We knew from the start that this . . . uh . . . conflict of interest existed. But we needed – still need – your expertise. I'd hoped that you, as a trained Marine, would be able to separate your personal feelings. I'd hoped you'd have had better sense. You could have been killed. Murphy too. And your brother. Not to mention the thousands of innocents whose lives may be on the line.”

  McManus's words hit home with her. He was completely right. At the same time, Lucy was incredulous. "You knew?" she asked. "Why didn't you tell me? I could have prepared myself better. I had hopes that Jim was alive, but they were just that. Hopes. I wasn't emotionally prepared.”

  Do you think knowing would have made a difference? We needed to preserve your objectivity as long as possible,” McManus said. "In hindsight, maybe that was a mistake. But there's no point in looking back. We need you and Murphy to do your best to diffuse the situation. Need you to pull through. As hard as it is going to be, I need you to be objective, Crane. Do what's best for the mission,” McManus said.

  Lucy swallowed the lump in her throat. "Understood, sir. I apologize. It won't happen again. You have my word.”

  "Very good. Be safe,” McManus said. "Can you put Murphy back on?"

  "Yes, sir,” Lucy said, handing the phone to a very pissed off looking Meg.

  "Hello?" she said, her anger evident in her voice.

  "Murphy. I understand you're feeling betrayed. But unless I'm wrong . . . and I'm usually not . . . there's something else going on here. I don't know what the state of your relationship is with Crane and I don't care to know. But you need to put your hurt feelings aside and work with her. She's all you've got. You need to be the calm, collected professional that I know you can be. Do you understand?”

  Meg did not like being talked to as if she were a child. She felt as though her blood her literally boiling beneath her skin. She was hot, flushed, and shaking with suppressed rage and . . . other feelings she didn't care to acknowledge. Much more personal, much more hurtful, much less dignified feelings. She swallowed hard and grumbled in response. "Yes, sir. I understand.” As if she couldn't be professional. The living, breathing, damn sexy example of unprofessionalism was sitting awkwardly across from her. She, Meg Murphy, was the epitome of a professional.

  "Good. I wish you luck, Murphy. You're going to need it.” McManus hung up.

  Meg muttered to Lucy. "Come on. We've . . . you've got work to do.” As she re-entered the bedroom, she gestured to Lucy's computer.

  "I'm so sorry, Meg,” Lucy whispered, placing a gentle hand on Meg's arm.

  Meg pulled away her arm as if she'd just been scalded. Without a word and without making eye contact, she pointed to the computer again and crossed her arms. She was not about to give Lucy any slack. McManus had said she had to be professional. She didn't have to be nice. If she was being honest, she wanted to have as little to do with Lucy as possible, so as to suppress any feelings bordering on hurt or sadness. She was perfectly content to embrace her anger. It made her feel way less vulnerable. She'd made the mistake of letting Lucy into her heart once. It wouldn't happen again.

  Lucy sighed and sat down to work. She wanted so much to make things right with Meg, but she knew now was not the time.

  Meg laid in bed, watching TV as Lucy worked. She sighed as she flipped through the channels aimlessly. She felt a bit useless, which just added to her bad mood. It was unnerving enough how much Lucy and her betrayal had gotten under her skin. Feeling like she couldn't help with the mission did nothing to make her feel better. But she knew that now she just needed to be patient and let Lucy have her space to do whatever it was she did. Lots of space. The more the better. Miles would've been okay with her.

  * * * * *

  Lucy had been working for a few hours when she finally got a break. A big one. When she saw the words on the screen, she had to re-read them several times before she believed it. It made her blood run cold.

  "Uh . . . Meg . . .” Lucy rasped, her heart rate escalating.

  "What do you want? A knife to stab me in the back?” Meg replied.

  "Whatever. Get over here.” Lucy said, in no mood to bicker.

  Meg looked up, her anger sliding away as she saw the stricken look on Lucy's face. She practically leapt off the bed and hurried to Lucy's side. She leaned over Lucy's shoulder to read what Lucy was pointing to on the screen, trying not to focus on the all-too-familiar and all-too-sexy scent of the woman next to her.

  However, Meg's distraction was short-lived. She see examined Lucy's discovery, her stomach plummeted to her feet. "Dear God.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The hacked email on Lucy's screen displayed about the worst n
ews possible – that an attack was planned in less than 24 hours.

  They silently took in the email's contents, too shocked to speak – and unable to do so anyway because of the bugs in their room.

  The email, which was sent to a list of about 20 recipients read:

  My Brothers,

  The time has come. Soon, every person on Earth will know the name Morvada and will respect and fear our power. Soon, the giant and pompous monster that is America will be on her knees, begging us for forgiveness and understanding. Soon, they will know that we mean business, that our way, that our beliefs, are the only path to true freedom. I want to thank you for your dedication to our cause. While you may go to the afterlife in infamy, perhaps reviled by those that do not understand, you will be revered by our God. Respected. Admired. Held up as examples of what it is to be a man, to stand for what is right, to give your life for freedom.