Lynn,
Oracle is waiting for you. The Cassandras need you. For more information contact Kim Valenti at NSA.
There was a phone number included.
The Cassandras. Any trace of sleepiness vanished as she reread the e-mail. Cassandra, daughter of Priam and Hecuba, king and queen of Troy in Greek poetry. The piece of trivia popped into her head, the result of years of surfing the Internet for entertainment and education.
But, the Cassandras held a more personal meaning to Lynn. Her mother, Rainy Miller Carrington, and the friends she'd made when she'd been a student at Athena Academy years ago had called themselves the Cassandras. Rainy, a senior student then, had mentored the group of new students, as was the practice at Athena Academy. Eventually the motley crew had become best of friends.
Those friends had been responsible for solving the mystery of Rainy's tragic death in a car accident. They were also the women Lynn now called friends.
She couldn't leave for Florida without addressing this new kink. If the Cassandras needed her, then she'd do whatever she could to help them. Those same women had gone out of their way to help Lynn find out about her history. They had risked their careers, their lives to find out the truth about the conspiracy and secrets surrounding Lynn's birth. And they had embraced her as one of their own.
Even though it was Labor Day weekend she picked up her phone and dialed the number listed. It was a Maryland area code.
"Hello?" A woman answered on the first ring.
"I'd like to speak to Kim Valenti," Lynn said. "This is Lynnette White."
"Lynn, I've been waiting for your call. We need to talk. Can we meet?"
"Just tell me where and when," Lynn replied.
"You'll be contacted."
There was a click and Lynn realized she was listening to the faint hum of an empty line. On impulse, she tried to dial back and it rang twice before she got a recording that the number had been disconnected.
She set the phone back in the receiver. What was this, National Conspiracy Week in the United States? First the FBI and now this. Why the need for such subterfuge?
Apparently there was nothing she could do but wait to find out what that was about. She quickly scanned through the rest of her e-mail then shut off the computer. She was still seated at her computer staring at the blank screen thoughtfully when someone knocked.
She cracked the door open an inch to peer outside. Standing there was a delivery guy, a pleasant smile on his youthful face. "Pizza delivery," he said and pulled a flat box from its red insulated carrier.
"But, I didn't…" She bit off her protest that she hadn't ordered a pizza. "What do I owe you?" She opened the door wider.
"It's already taken care of, tip and all." He handed her the warm box. "Enjoy." He turned and hurried back to the car illegally parked against the curb.
Lynn locked the front door, then took the box into the kitchen where she set it on the table and opened it. A pepperoni and mushroom pizza stared back at her and tucked beneath one edge of the crust was a small envelope that was already drawing grease.
She pulled it free and opened it.
Tomorrow night. Six o'clock at Cactus Grill on Scottsdale Road.
The woman she'd spoken to on the phone had said she'd be contacted.
Contact made.
Lynn sank down at the table and pulled a piece of the cheese-laden pizza free. As she took a bite of the pizza she tried to still the feeling that she was in way over her head and this might be her symbolic last supper before her life exploded into something she no longer recognized.
Chapter 4
The rock glistened in the spotlight overhead, its many facets catching the light and sparkling brilliantly as it rested on the black velvet inside the display case.
Her heart banged a frantic rhythm as she slowly descended from the rope that dangled through the skylight directly above the valuable diamond.
She'd already bypassed the security system. All she had to worry about was the very human element of a night guard.
A trickle of perspiration slid down the center of the back of her tight black T-shirt but she was focused only on one thing. Grab the diamond, get the hell out of here and get home. It was what she'd been trained to do.
She paused as she dangled just above the display. Tilting her head to one side she used her acute hearing to listen.
The hum of the air conditioner.
The faint tick of a wall clock from another room.
A whisper of classical music coming from a radio down the hallway in the security guard's room.
Nothing to give her pause.
She inched another foot down the rope, the top of the display case now within the reach of her fingertips. Beautiful. The diamond was so beautiful and within seconds it would be in her hands.
But, of course she wouldn't keep it. She would give it to Uncle Jonas and he would see to it that it was returned to the African government, the rightful owner of the jewel.
She froze.
Was that the sound of breathing? Was she not alone in the room?
"Freeze! FBI."
The glare of bright lights. The click of a safety on a gun. One heartbreaking glimpse of Nick with his gun drawn on her and his face expressing stunned disbelief.
LYNN GASPED and sat up with a start. Sweat slicked her skin and the bedsheets held her legs captive in a jumbled mess. Her heart raced as if on the verge of exploding from exertion. She drew a deep breath and untangled herself from the covers.
The faint gray light of predawn filtered in through her bedroom curtains, orienting her to the fact that it had been nothing more than a dream. A dream rooted in memories of the past and what had once been a reality.
Rather than a glittering jewel, she'd been in the process of stealing a precious vase from a museum display when she'd been busted by the FBI. She'd never forget how she felt when she'd seen Nick there and realized the man she'd been sleeping with, the man she knew as head of security for Jonas, was actually an undercover agent.
Learning that Jonas was a criminal had been nothing compared to how betrayed she'd felt by Nick. At that moment she'd believed that all his words of love, his tenderness and passion had been nothing more than an act to gain her confidence.
It was only as they'd worked together to bring down Jonas that she'd come to believe that the love he professed to have for her was real.
She drew a second shuddering breath in an attempt to leave the dream behind.
Jewel thief.
Cat burglar.
That's what she'd been in her previous life. And now the authorities wanted her to use those same skills, enhanced by her special genetic gifts, to advance their own agenda.
During all the daring things she'd done in her past, she'd never truly felt afraid of the consequences. Her lack of fear had partly been because Jonas had convinced her they had the sanctity of the government behind them.
He had told her that if she were caught on one of the nightly forays, the worst that would happen would be that she'd spend a few hours in jail until they could sort it all out and get her released.
She'd been too naive to recognize the real danger she'd been in and so had not suffered any real, bone-chilling fear. But minutes later as she stood beneath the shower, the chill of fear swept through her despite the warmth of the spray of water.
What she was about to do for the FBI was more than a little bit dangerous. There would be real dogs with real teeth, real guards with real guns and perhaps a bomb put together with the express purpose of causing death and destruction.
She'd be a fool not to be afraid.
She dressed in a pair of jeans and a sleeveless light pink blouse then pulled her hair into a ponytail and headed into the kitchen for coffee.
As she drank a cup of the brew, she wondered what the day would bring. Supposedly she would be briefed and trained for the job ahead. And if that wasn't enough to make her nervous, she also had a meeting with a stranger who apparently wan
ted something from her as well.
Two hours later she drove back to the warehouse where she would spend the day training for the work at the wharf.
"Good, you're right on time," Blake said when she walked in. "We have a lot of work to do to prepare you before you get on your flight tomorrow night." He ushered her down a long hallway and into a large room that was equipped with floor mats, exercise equipment, ropes and weights. There was also a table and a blackboard at one end of the room.
A tall, thin, gray-haired man entered the room. He had a kind face with brown eyes that exuded warmth. "Lynn, this is Agent William Stewart," Blake said. "He's going to be in charge of giving you a crash course in bomb detection."
"Ms. White." The older man held out a hand. "It's nice to meet you."
"Please, make it Lynn." She took his hand in a firm shake.
"Then call me Bill."
"I'll just let you two get to work," Blake said and without another word he disappeared out the door, leaving Lynn and Bill to begin the day.
By noon Lynn's head was reeling. She'd learned how to use a handheld scanner to detect radioactive material, she'd memorized page after page of material describing the bombs most frequently used by terrorist groups and she'd watched horrifying films of what those bombs were capable of doing to people and property.
"What happens if you're wrong?" she asked Bill as they ate a sack lunch that had been provided for them. "What happens if your sources are wrong and a bomb isn't coming into Stingray Wharf, but rather another port?"
"Then we hope that the security measures that port has in place picks up on it before it detonates." He paused a moment, then continued. We believe the chatter we've heard concerning Stingray Wharf is reliable. Our sources in this matter have proven to be right many times before. You're faster and more skilled than all of our other agents put together." He smiled sadly then. "It's dangerous times we live in, Lynn. And unfortunately, dangerous times make for desperate men. Because of your special skills, those men believe you're the person for this job. If there is a bomb and if you succeed in finding it before it detonates, you'll be saving hundreds, maybe thousands of lives."
For the first time Lynn recognized the full gravity of what she'd agreed to do, but more, she recognized the grave consequences of what might happen if she didn't succeed.
"Our sources also tell us that you're a pretty amazing woman when it comes to your physical skills."
She shrugged. "I train hard." There was no way she wanted these men to know that her skills came from genetic tampering. If they realized that, she was afraid she and her sisters would end up in some sort of laboratory being studied like rats. She prayed that only a very few people had access to the files recovered when the covert and illegal lab that had created Lynn and her sisters had been destroyed.
After lunch it was more of the same, studying, memorizing and learning more about what was expected of her. A few minutes after five o'clock, Blake told her he'd order in dinner, but Lynn told him not to bother.
"I'll get something to eat on the way home," she said, remembering her meeting at six o'clock. "Besides, I've had enough for today."
Blake frowned, obviously a man who didn't like anyone else calling the shots. "We aren't finished here yet. We still have a lot to do."
"You might not be finished, but I am," she replied firmly. "I'm tired, you've shoved a lot of things into my head today. Now I need to go home and take some time to process it all. I'll be here by seven tomorrow morning and we can start again."
Blake's jaw tightened, but he didn't protest as she picked up her purse and left the building. As she drove away from the warehouse she checked her rearview mirror, making sure she wasn't followed.
She didn't trust any of them. If there was one thing Lynn had learned over the last year and a half of her life, it was that blind trust was incredibly dangerous.
As she headed toward Scottsdale she shifted thoughts, wondering what Kim Valenti wanted from her and what it had to do with the Cassandras. She supposed she could ask Kayla Ryan, who was herself a Cassandra, but if Kayla were involved she'd surely have let Lynn know.
So much had happened in the past forty-eight hours-—the stop by the cops, the presence of the FBI, Nick showing up and now this, a cryptic message from a woman she'd never met before. Was it any wonder she felt overloaded?
It was just before six when she pulled up in front of the Cactus Grill on Scottsdale Road. She sat in the parking space for a few minutes, clearing her head of the day's activities and preparing herself for whatever lay ahead.
The sun had not yet begun its slow sink in the west and the heat struck her like a slap in the face as she got out of her car.
The Cactus Grill was nothing more than a glorified sports bar with half a dozen television screens flickering with sports images from different channels. Still, Lynn welcomed the very normalcy of the place and the fact that there were a handful of diners sitting at tables around the room. A public place was smart for a meeting with somebody you didn't know.
For the first time since she'd received the first e-mail from [email protected], a wave of apprehension swept through Lynn. There was no way she could know for sure that she was meeting Kim Valenti from NSA.
The hostess, a pleasant Hispanic woman with beautiful long dark hair, smiled at her. "Good evening. Right this way please."
Lynn followed the woman through the general dining area and into a small private dining room. "Have a seat. Somebody will be with you momentarily."
She hadn't asked how many were dining, nor had she hesitated in leading Lynn back to this private room. Lynn's apprehension increased. Whoever she was meeting knew what she looked like and must have described her to the hostess.
She sat at the table and tried to still the anxiety swirling in sickening circles in her stomach. Too much. Her life had suddenly become too complicated. She had visions of bombs exploding in her head, the faint stir of regret where Nick was concerned and the uncertainty of what was going to happen in the next few minutes.
Closing her eyes, she drew a deep breath and called on her inner strength. Whatever happened here and in Miami, she would get through it. She had the strength of Rainy Miller Carrington flowing in her veins, the support and love of her sisters and Athena Academy friends.
"Lynnette."
Lynn's eyes popped open to see a slender, dark-haired woman step into the room. She quickly got to her feet. "Kim?"
The woman nodded and held out a hand. "It's nice to finally meet you." Her handshake was firm and confident. She released Lynn's hand then motioned Lynn back into her chair and sank into the seat opposite her at the table.
"Thank you for coming. I apologize for the secrecy in getting you here. We weren't sure who might be monitoring your e-mail and phone calls."
Probably only the FBI, Lynn thought. They were not only monitoring her calls and e-mail, but had also managed to steal at least her immediate future away from her.
"Do you have some sort of identification?" Lynn asked apologetically. She wasn't about to take anything for granted at this point in her life.
Kim looked at her in surprise, then nodded as if in approval. "Yes, of course." She opened her purse, withdrew a wallet, then pulled out a driver's license and passed it across the table to Lynn.
Lynn studied the license, noting the Maryland address. Kim had come a long way on short notice to meet her. Satisfied that Kim was who she said she was, she returned the identification to her. "Sorry, I just needed to make sure."
Kim smiled. "Please, don't apologize for being smart."
"So, what am I doing here?" Lynn asked, cutting to the chase.
"We'll talk after we're served," Kim replied. "I hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty of ordering for us ahead of time. I wasn't sure what you'd like so I ordered a sampler platter."
The words were barely out of her mouth before the waitress appeared carrying a huge platter. She set the large plate in the center of the table, then placed s
maller plates in front of Lynn and Kim. Drinks were served, then the waitress left the small dining room, closing the door behind her.
It wasn't until each of the women had served themselves a portion of the food from the platter that Kim spoke again. "I'm a graduate of Athena Academy. Your mother and her Cassandras were legendary at the school. I didn't know them personally at school—I was younger than them—but I can tell you they were all greatly admired."
"They're wonderful, strong women," Lynn said. "Unfortunately, I never got to know my mother, either."
"But, you've heard the stories. You know how she took a group of girls from diverse backgrounds and got them to pull together as a team the likes of which the Academy has never seen since."
"The Cassandras. Yes, I've heard the stories." They had told Lynn story after story of her mother in an attempt to feed the hunger in Lynn's soul. The remaining Cassandras—Samantha St. John, Tory Patton, Josie Lockworth, Darcy Allen, Kayla Ryan and Alex Forsythe, had adopted Lynn, and her sisters, and through their stories Lynn had learned about the kind of woman her biological mother had been. An accomplished lawyer, a loving wife and a woman who'd given up her life in pursuit of the truth.
Lynn smiled at Kim, noting how the peach-colored blouse the woman wore complemented her olive complexion. "From all the stories I've heard about her, my mother was a pretty amazing woman."
"From everything I've heard about you, you're a pretty amazing woman," Kim replied with a raised dark brow. "Which brings me to the reason we're here." She put down her fork and leaned forward. "We need your help."
"Who is we?"
Kim paused a moment to take a sip of her iced tea. When she placed the glass back on the table she looked at Lynn once again, her brown eyes somber. "What I'm about to tell you is top secret. You can't repeat any of the information to another soul. The lives of many people rest on your word that you will keep this in the strictest confidence."
Pawn Page 5