Above Reproach

by Lynn Ames

  Then Vaughn placed a black cloth hood over her head and Sedona swallowed a cry. The instant darkness was disorienting and the hood was stifling. Vaughn had mentioned that this might be necessary, since it was standard protocol, but Sedona was not prepared for just how real the hood made her status feel, nor for what having her third eye covered would do to rob her of her psychic perception.

  She stumbled forward, her ankles chafing against the heavy leg irons. She felt Vaughn helping to hold her upright with a hand secured in her belly chain. When they reached the front of the plane, Vaughn yanked the chain to help her pivot toward the exit.

  Slowly, carefully, Sedona made her way down the stairs leading to the tarmac. She could feel Vaughn directly behind her. At the bottom of the stairs, Vaughn clamped a hand on her shoulder and urged her forward.

  “Keep walking,” Vaughn whispered in her ear. “There’s a vehicle in front of us. When we reach it, there’ll be a Kuwaiti officer who will shove you into the car. Don’t worry. He’s one of us. I’ll be right behind you. Oh, and don’t forget to duck so you don’t hit your head on the doorframe.”

  Vaughn’s mouth was close enough to her ear that Sedona could feel her breath. Irrationally, she wished she could turn around and see her eyes. Her eyes would tell Sedona everything she needed to know. But that wasn’t possible. So she marched forward toward the waiting vehicle, wondering if Vaughn felt the same disconnect that she did.

  Vaughn said nothing on the short drive to the hangar. She could feel Sedona’s trembling leg next to her.

  The car squealed into the darkness of the bay and the driver cut the engine. In perfect Arabic, the Kuwaiti officer dismissed the driver. When it was clear they were alone, the man turned to face Vaughn and Sedona in the backseat. “Welcome to Kuwait.” His American English held a hint of a Mid-Western twang.

  “Good to be here, I think,” Vaughn answered. She yanked the hood off Sedona’s head.

  Sedona blinked as her eyes adjusted to the light.

  “I’m Charlie, a friend of Justine’s. When she told me you needed assistance, she wasn’t kidding.” Charlie whistled. “Nice accessories, by the way.” He indicated Sedona’s shackles. “I hear that’s the latest in jewelry fashion.”

  Sedona mustered a wan smile.

  “How are we going to get the rest of the team in here?” Vaughn asked.

  “I’ve got it covered. I’m going to go collect them from baggage claim. I’ll bring them here. Your helicopter is parked directly behind this hangar. There are no eyes back there, so no one will see you board.” He winked. “Well, I’d better get things underway. Will you two be all right on your own for a bit?”

  “Don’t worry about us,” Vaughn said casually.

  “Right-o. See you in a few.” Charlie jumped out of the car and exited the hangar through a side door, leaving Vaughn and Sedona completely alone.

  To her surprise, when Vaughn turned to face Sedona, she saw tears in her eyes. A lump formed in Vaughn’s throat. “Hey,” she said gently. She pulled Sedona to her and held her close. “There’s nothing to worry about, babe. I’ve got you. I’m right here, and I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” She felt Sedona take a shaky breath against her shoulder. She pulled back so she could see Sedona’s face. “Let’s get you out of these, okay?”

  Sedona nodded, and Vaughn noted that she hadn’t said a single word in hours. Although she didn’t have much to go on, she thought that was out of character.

  Vaughn reached into a pocket and found the keys to unlock the restraints. She started by releasing Sedona’s hands, then she removed the belly chain, and finally the leg irons.

  Sedona rubbed her wrists. “Thanks.” She said it so quietly, Vaughn had to strain to hear it.

  “Don’t mention it.” Vaughn gave Sedona a reassuring smile, hoping it would lift her spirits. It occurred to Vaughn that these might be the only quiet minutes they would have alone for a very long time.

  She knew she should say something, but she wasn’t sure what. The trip had taken a toll on Sedona, she could see that, but it also affected her. The last thing she’d wanted to do was to be detached and cold, but that was required in order to pull off the ruse.

  “You called me ‘babe,’” Sedona said.

  “What?” Vaughn was so deep in thought, she wasn’t sure she heard Sedona correctly.

  “Just now. You called me babe.”

  “I did?” Vaughn didn’t remember it.

  “You did. You said, ‘There’s nothing to worry about, babe.’”

  “Oh.” Vaughn searched for something else to say.

  “I bet you say that to all the girls.” Sedona winked and Vaughn recognized a hint of the real Sedona returning. A wave of relief rushed through her.

  “Only the pretty ones. Especially ones that look hot in shackles.”

  “Good to know. I mean it’s not everyone who can pull off the shackle look.”

  “Very true. Many have tried and failed before you.” Vaughn couldn’t resist any longer. She reached over and brushed a lock of hair from Sedona’s forehead and closed the short distance between them. Tentatively, she brushed her lips across Sedona’s. “I’m so sorry for all of that,” she whispered. “I wish none of it was necessary.”

  “I know,” Sedona answered. Her mouth was tantalizingly close.

  Vaughn leaned forward and claimed Sedona’s lips. The kiss was slow and tender, sweet and gentle. She felt her heart thud hard against her ribcage. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d wanted to offer comfort with a kiss.

  “The others will be here in a minute,” Sedona said against her mouth.

  “I know.” Vaughn’s eyes still remained closed. She wanted to savor the moment, to make it last just a little longer.

  “This might be hard to explain.”

  Vaughn sighed. “Yeah.” She leaned back and struggled to control the urge to pull Sedona with her.

  “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll get out and stretch.” Sedona opened the door and slid out of the car.

  Vaughn followed suit. She watched as Sedona undid the straps and removed the Kevlar vest. When she raised her arms upward and stood on her toes to stretch, Sedona’s breasts pushed against the thin fabric of her shirt, straining against the material.

  More than anything she could remember in a long time, Vaughn wanted to feel those breasts in her mouth. She swallowed hard and looked away. She still had no idea what this thing—this pull—toward Sedona was, but whatever it was, this was neither the time nor the place for it.

  “Do you have anything yet?” Orlando Niger asked. He hefted a dumbbell in each hand and watched himself do bicep curls in the mirror.

  “Not yet,” Daniel Hart said, “but it’s only a matter of time. Be patient. The alert only went out eight hours ago.” He undertook another set of abdominal crunches on the therapy ball.

  “I know, but I’ll feel a lot happier when I know she’s out of the picture.”

  “Me too.” Hart strained to do one last repetition. “But I know from experience that in cases like these, it can take hours or it can take weeks.”

  Niger dropped one of the dumbbells onto the mat with a thud. “Shit, Daniel. Weeks? We don’t have weeks.”

  “Relax. It isn’t going to take that long. We’ve pointed the proper authorities in the general vicinity where we believe she’s headed. It won’t be long now.”

  Niger picked up the dumbbell again and changed to tricep exercises. “And you’re sure we got away with it?”

  Hart balanced on the ball. “Hell. You’re more nervous than a girl on a prom date. I have the ultimate authority to declare someone a terrorist threat. I do not require presidential approval—the designation is solely at my discretion. We’re perfectly in the clear. In a day or two, everything will be back on track. Now stop your worrying. I’ve got it all under control.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Peter hugged Sedona close. “Are you okay?” He pulled back, still holding her within t
he circle of his arms as he held her gaze. His eyes held genuine concern.

  “I’ve had better days,” Sedona admitted, “but I’m much improved from an hour ago.”

  Peter laughed. “I’ve never been put in shackles, personally, but I’ve used them on others. They’re not the most comfortable things.”

  “That’s the understatement of the year.”

  “If you two are done,” Vaughn said, “we’ve got some work to do here.”

  The six of them were sitting around a conference table in an office inside the hangar. Their duffle bags were scattered on the floor, along with two crates.

  “What’s in the boxes?” Justine asked.

  “I took the liberty of procuring us some firepower and some uniforms,” Vaughn answered. “Have a look if you want.” She unhinged the latch of the first box and pulled back the lid. Inside were six standard-issue Army MP uniforms, accessories, and a cache of weapons—Army-issue M4 rifles, Glocks, Sig Sauers, a couple of .38 Specials, night vision goggles, long-range scopes, silencers, Kevlar vests, and enough ammunition of various kinds to supply all of them. Underneath the top layer were several Steyr rifles—the assassin’s ultimate tool.

  “Geez, Vaughn, you’d think you were expecting trouble.” Lorraine hefted one of the Sig Sauers in her right hand. “How did you get all of this here?”

  “Through the same buddy that’s punching our ticket to the middle of the Persian Gulf.”

  “He’s obviously a man of many talents,” Justine said.

  “You might remember him,” Vaughn said. “His name is Sparky. He was part of that first op in Cairo.”

  After a second, Justine’s mouth formed an O.

  “Is that a good ‘O’ or a bad ‘O’?” Sedona asked.

  “My recollection of him is that he was a bit arrogant and took some unnecessary risks, but he got the job done and got us out of there safely,” Justine said.

  “Indeed I did,” a burly, bushy-haired man said from the doorway to the office.

  “Speak of the devil,” Vaughn said, rising to greet him with a chuck on the shoulder.

  Sedona watched the exchange with interest, trying to glean hints to Vaughn’s past through her associations and interactions. This man seemed to hold real affection for Vaughn.

  “What’s this I hear about you changing the terms of the deal, Elliott?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I just heard from my cargo pilot on my way over here that you never took the DHL flight, yet here you are, at the same time I was expecting you. How’s that possible?”

  Sedona stiffened. She wondered how well Vaughn knew this guy and whether or not he could be trusted to be read into the mission.

  “Actually,” Vaughn said, “we simply hitched a different ride. Change of plans.” She waved it away as if it was nothing.

  Sparky stared hard at Vaughn for several seconds and then shrugged. “Whatever you say.”

  “What are you doing here if you knew we missed the DHL flight?”

  “Call it a hunch. You ready to go?”

  “We have a few things to clear up here first. Can you give us about half an hour?”

  “Ten-four. When you’re ready, I’ll be out back.”

  “What about the hardware? Did you get what I asked for?”

  “Check the other crate.” He winked and walked out.

  Vaughn unlatched the hinges on the second, larger box. Inside, neatly packed, were two small reconnaissance drones along with controllers. The larger drone measured roughly three feet by five feet. The smaller one was the size of a bee.

  Peter, who was looking over her shoulder, whistled. “You do have interesting connections.”

  “They’re handy.” Vaughn closed the case and addressed the group. “This may be the last opportunity we have to connect to the outside world for a little while, and it’s our last chance to have a strategy discussion while we’re not in any danger.” She made eye contact with everyone in the group. “There are things we need to discuss.”

  “Like how Sedona became the world’s most wanted terrorist,” Justine said.

  “Like that,” Vaughn agreed.

  “And what to do about it,” Lorraine said.

  “And what it means for us as we go forward,” Peter said. “Do we change our plans or stick with the program?”

  “If I may,” Sedona broke in, “I imagine we’re not the only ones wondering these things.” She stood up and leaned on the back of her chair. “While we’ve been busy crisscrossing the globe, the president no doubt has been wondering why he wasn’t aware of my changed status. Perhaps we ought to check in and see what he knows now.”

  “Good thinking,” Peter said.

  Sedona realized everyone was looking at her. “Um, who wants to make the call, since I can’t?” She looked at Vaughn.

  “I got this,” Vaughn said, retrieving Sedona’s burn phone from the pocket where she’d put it when she “arrested” Sedona.

  They all crowded around the fifteen-inch laptop screen as Sabastien, at the president’s order, worked his magic. Within minutes, he was inside the interface of the Department of Homeland Security. Another few keystrokes and he was reading Secretary Daniel Hart’s e-mails.

  “You know that’s frightening, right?” Sedona remarked.

  “What?” Sabastien continued to press keys without looking up.

  “The ease with which you hack into what are supposedly the most secure computer systems in the world.”

  “Oh, that.” Sabastien lifted one hand and waved away the comment. “Child’s play.”

  “Until you get caught.” Vaughn slapped him on the back. To Sedona she said, “That’s how Sabastien came to be my go-to guy—he got in the middle of the wrong op.”

  “So you made him your own personal hacker slave?” Lorraine asked.

  “She did,” Sabastien agreed. “Hand me the portable printer out of that bag, will you?” He inclined his head toward the duffle bag at Peter’s feet. “I assume you will want a hard copy of the documents to review.”

  “Yes,” Vaughn answered. She was standing over Sabastien’s shoulder, reading. “Huh.”

  “What is it?” Justine asked.

  “The request for the designation came from the director of the NSA. It seems Sedona is in league with al-Qaeda in Iraq.”

  “Oh.” Sedona’s knees buckled for the second time that day and she reached out and put a hand on the table to steady herself. It shouldn’t have surprised her, but somehow it did. All those years she spent working diligently, putting her life on the line for her country and in the blink of an eye, all of it was negated.

  “Hey,” Lorraine said. “Are you all right?”

  Sedona nodded. It was easier than trying to find her voice.

  Justine came up on her other side and put an arm around her waist. “We’re going to get this done and your name is going to be cleared. You’re going to be exonerated. Don’t worry.”

  Sedona willed herself not to cry. It was easier to be running for her life than to see her professional career—everything she worked for—wiped away by insidious lies.

  As the pages rolled off the printer and Vaughn began to read, her face clouded over with anger. “The sons of bitches.” She slapped her hand on the table.

  “What?” Peter asked.

  “They didn’t just make the accusation—they created the evidence. From what I can see here, they created a bunch of fictitious conversations between Sedona and a few of the better-known extremists she’s been tracking. They made it look like Sedona was headed to Baghdad to hand over mission-sensitive information that could jeopardize national security.”

  Unable to stay upright any longer, Sedona slumped into a chair and buried her head in her hands. The enormity of her plight—the flight from those who were trying to kill her, leaving everything she knew behind, the swirl of unfamiliar emotions she felt around Vaughn, her designation as a dangerous traitor—all of it was too much.

  She felt comfo
rting hands on her back and each shoulder. Without looking, she knew it was Justine to her left, Lorraine to her right, and Peter behind her. The warmth and genuine concern she sensed from them touched her heart. Here were absolute strangers who were willing to put their lives on the line for their country with her. More than that, they believed her and stood with her, defending her honor and her integrity.

  “Stop feeling sorry for yourself, kiddo. You need to pull yourself together. This isn’t like you. Stand up and fight for your reputation. Real tough girls don’t cry.”

  Sedona smiled at the sound of Dom’s voice in her head. She almost answered him out loud but caught herself. She cleared her throat and straightened up, drying her eyes on her sleeves. That was when she caught sight of Vaughn. She was looking at her with naked compassion and empathy. Sedona blinked. Up until that point, Vaughn had been hard to read. Right now, there was no mistaking the expression in her eyes. The intensity of it nearly took Sedona’s breath away. It was a softness she hadn’t imagined Vaughn possessed.

  “Sorry, folks. I was just having myself a moment. I promise you, that’s not typical for me. I’m tougher than that.”

  “Anyone would be having bunches of moments in your place,” Justine said, kindly. “You’re among friends here. There’s no shame in being human.”

  Sedona blew out a big breath. She couldn’t afford to feel overwhelmed now. These people, her new friends, were counting on her. Her knowledge of Tuwaitha was invaluable. There would be time to fall apart later. She pushed back and rose out of the chair.

  “Okay.” She squared her shoulders. “The current director of the NSA doesn’t have the knowledge of the inner workings of the agency to pull this off, so I have trouble believing he’s the one behind this. He’s a political appointment—he keeps the wheels well greased, but he’s never been out of the office apart from trips to Capitol Hill and the White House.”