Pawn

by Carla Cassidy

  "I understand," Lynn replied. It seemed she'd heard that a lot lately. Don't tell. Strictest confidence. Top secret information.

  "You know I'm an NSA code breaker. But I work for a covert organization called Oracle," Kim began. "Oracle is the name of a computer system that was originally designed to track information from the FBI, the CIA and a variety of other intelligence databases. Oracle matches up information that should be shared between the agencies, but often isn't because of territorial shoving matches."

  "So, what do you do with this information?" Lynn asked.

  "The original purpose was to discover classified information that should be shared between agencies for the best possible effectiveness against enemies of the United States. Even the agencies we monitor don't know we're there."

  "Are you Delphi? Is that a code name or something?" Lynn asked, remembering her e-mail had come from Delphi@orcl.com.

  "No, I'm not Delphi, and I don't know who is. It is a code name of the person in charge. I told you that secrecy is vital to the agency. I don't know who most of the other Oracle agents are, although the attempt on President Monihan's life last year did bring me into contact with a few, and I don't know who Delphi is. None of the agents do. It's better that way. We're told information on a strictly need-to-know basis."

  It was Lynn's turn to take a drink of her iced tea as she tried to process everything that Kim had told her. "So, what do you want from me?"

  "We know about your genetic enhancements, but what we really need from you is your amazing computer skills and intelligence. We'd like your help in decoding the Spider files—part of thousands of encrypted files that came into the NSA's possession with the fall of Lab 33."

  The mention of Lab 33 sent a wave of bone-chilling coldness through Lynn. Lab 33 had been the secret laboratory responsible for creating her and her sisters. There, in the middle of nowhere in New Mexico, scientists had performed experiments in cloning, mind control hypnosis and a variety of other horrible research that had been outside the realm of any ethics or moral issues.

  It had been there that Rainy Miller's stolen eggs had been genetically altered to produce "super" eggs, eggs that had eventually become Lynn and her two sisters, Dawn and Faith.

  "The Spider files?" Lynn eyed Kim curiously. "What exactly are the Spider files?"

  "When Lab 33 was brought down, the government authorities found numerous encrypted files. Among them were those called the Spider files. In my spare time, I've managed to decode some of the information, enough to know that they include a list of names. One of those names brought the list to Oracle's attention."

  "What name is that?"

  "Shannon Conner. Ever heard of her?"

  Lynn thought. "Isn't she the reporter who broke the story on the hostages a couple months ago? The ones taken in Berzhaan? I know Tory Patton continued the coverage and was part of rescuing them. Kayla and I talked about it. None of the Cassandras think much of Shannon."

  Kim's eyes darkened. "Shannon Conner has the dubious honor of being the only girl ever to be expelled from the Athena Academy. She hated the Cassandras, and while she was at the school she did everything she could to tarnish their good image. When her name showed up in the file, it naturally caught our attention. Through NSA, I'm working on many of the Lab 33 files. But Oracle has a particular interest in these files, and Delphi thinks you're the best person to tackle them. They're low priority for NSA, and won't be looked at for a while. But they are of special interest to the women of Athena Academy."

  As far as Lynn was concerned, Lab 33 was a place of evil and the men who had worked there were responsible for her growing up without knowing her mother and father. And that had only been the beginning of their crimes against her, her sisters and the mother she'd never known.

  "Maybe we'd all be better off if those files were never decoded," she said.

  A trace of sympathy lit Kim's dark eyes. "I understand how you feel, but, Lynn, whatever information is contained in those files, I can promise you it will only be used for good."

  She leaned back in her chair, her gaze still intent on Lynn. "We aren't sure what might be there. We both know how deadly secrets can be and as long as those files remained encrypted and unread, there will forever be a shroud of mystery that remains."

  Kim's dark eyes radiated the same kind of strength that Lynn often saw in the eyes of the remaining Cassandras. "This can be your final revenge on Lab 33, revealing the secrets they hoped would never be revealed, shining light on exactly what was happening there."

  Lynn could almost feel the warmth of Rainy's love for the child she'd never known letting her know that this was the right thing to do. For Rainy. For the Cassandras. "When do you want me to start?"

  "Immediately. The files will be delivered to you on disk sometime tonight. The sooner you can decode them, the better." Kim stood. "If I need to contact you again, it will be by e-mail. Other than that, we'll have no further contact."

  She pulled a slip of paper from her purse. "When you've accomplished the decoding, e-mail Delphi@orcl.com."

  "But, I tried to e-mail that address when I got the first message, and my reply bounced back." Lynn said.

  Kim smiled. "It will work now. We hope to hear from you soon."

  Lynn nodded and thought about mentioning that she would be out of town for a couple of weeks, but realized it didn't matter. She could take her laptop with her and work on the files while she was gone.

  She had no idea if anyone from the FBI was somehow monitoring her computer use, but she figured she was as smart as anyone in the employ of that agency when it came to computers. Now that she'd seen what they were capable of, she'd raise her security measures so that the feds monitoring her wouldn't be able to break into the Spider files or see what she was doing with them.

  Even though she trusted Kim, it had been pounded into her head all day long that nobody could know about her mission to Miami for the FBI. She had more secrets than a crooked politician.

  "Good luck, Lynn. We're depending on you."

  Before Lynn had an opportunity to say anything else, Kim Valenti slipped out the door.

  It was only at that moment that Lynn realized neither of them had touched the food that had been served.

  She looked at the array of appetizers and decided that the discussion of Lab 33 had effectively killed her appetite. She pushed away from the table and stood, amazed by the direction her life was taking her.

  She had a bomb to find, secret files to decode and the memory of a lost love to haunt her in whatever quiet moments she might have left in her life.

  "YOUR FLIGHT LEAVES at eight tonight," Blake told Lynn. It was late afternoon and once again she was seated in his office. "That will get you into Miami by one."

  The morning and early afternoon had flown by as her training at the warehouse had continued. Bill Stewart and Blake had not only shoved a vast amount of information into her head, but they'd also given her a variety of physical tests to perform, as well.

  It had been obvious that they had been both surprised and pleased by the results of those physical tests. But she hadn't even begun to show them what she was capable of.

  "This is the address to your new apartment." Blake shoved a piece of paper across the desk. "And this is the key to the apartment. I'll warn you, it's not even close to the Ritz, although we have managed to get Internet access in your unit. It's a small studio and the neighborhood is tough, populated mostly by dockworkers and prostitutes."

  Although it certainly didn't sound inviting, she told herself she could endure anything for a week or two. "What's my cover story?"

  "Whatever you want to make it. Of course, it's in your best interest to keep to yourself and not invite confidences of any kind with anyone, but if somebody starts asking questions, all they need to know is that you're looking for a new start and this apartment was all you could afford or whatever."

  He passed her another set of keys. "These go to your car, which is a ten-year-old bla
ck sedan. The license number is BAW029. It will be parked in the lot at your apartment complex, although I doubt you'll need to use it much. The docks are only about six blocks from the apartment building." Lynn took the keys from him, the metal warm in her cold hands.

  "And this is your unofficial search warrant." He handed her a velvet pouch.

  She knew instantly what the pouch contained. She opened it to look at the lock-picking tools nestled inside. She'd once owned a set very much like this one, bought for her by Jonas.

  With these tools she could get through almost any locked door, leaving no trace on the lock that it had been tampered with in any way.

  She ran her fingers across several of the tools. Holding the pouch in her hand made her assignment heart-stoppingly real.

  "The best hours for you to conduct your search will be between midnight and three. It is vital that you move as quickly as possible to get to as many containers as you can each evening. The containers of interest will be the ones dropped off each day. We're fairly certain the containers that have been there for days or weeks pose no real threat."

  He passed an envelope across the desk. "Here is your airline ticket, a phone contact to be used only in case of the discovery of a bomb and enough cash to take care of your living expenses while you're working with us."

  Lynn took the envelope and felt the heft of the cash bulging the seams. At least she wouldn't starve while working for the FBI.

  "If anything changes you'll be contacted through e-mail, however you will not be able to contact us through that avenue. I guess that's it. I'd better let you get out of here so you can pack and prepare for your trip." Blake rose from his chair and Lynn did the same.

  She was already packed. When she'd gotten home from the Cactus Grill the night before, she'd spent the next hour packing her suitcase and laptop for her trip.

  When she'd finished she'd sat in a chair in her living room, waiting for the Spider files to be delivered. At midnight there had been a sharp knock on her door. When she'd answered she'd found a small package on her doorstep and inside that package had been several disks.

  Her first instinct had been to get to work on them, but knowing she had to be here at the warehouse by seven, she'd packed the files in her suitcase and had gone to bed.

  "I wish you success, Lynnette," Blake now said and held out his hand to her. "We appreciate you heeding the call of duty."

  She eyed him askance. As if she'd had a choice in the matter. "I'll do the best that I can," she said as she shook his hand.

  As she left his office, Bill Stewart approached her. "All set?" he asked.

  She smiled at him. Over the course of the last forty-eight hours she'd come to like the agent, with his warm brown eyes and friendly smile. "I guess I'm as set as I'm going to get."

  "Come on, I'll walk you out to your car."

  He fell in step with her as they walked back through the warehouse. "Is this all set up for the Stingray Wharf thing?" she asked, gesturing to the men at work at their phones and computers.

  "No, this base of operations was set up to deal with something else here in Arizona," Bill said. "It has nothing to do with the terrorist threat in Miami."

  "How long have you been an FBI agent?" Lynn asked as they stepped out into the late-afternoon heat.

  "I've been with the Bureau for over twenty years, but I've only been working with this particular group a little over a year."

  "And what is the name of this particular group?" So, Nick had been correct, the men she would be working for were some sort of splinter under the guise of the FBI.

  "If I told you that, I'd have to kill you." Although his tone was light and teasing, Lynn knew he wasn't going to tell her anything more about the men or the specific organization he currently worked with.

  She was on a need-to-know basis only and apparently they didn't think she needed to know anything more than what she'd been told.

  They reached her car and she opened the driver's side door to allow it to air out a minute before getting inside the hot interior. "Thanks for everything, Bill. You're a good teacher."

  He smiled. "A good student makes it easy to be a good teacher." His smile faded as he held out his hand to her. "Good luck, Lynn." He grabbed her hand in a firm shake. His warm brown eyes held a trace of sadness as he released her hand. "I hope someday we meet again."

  He didn't wait for her reply, but instead turned crisply on his heel and strode back toward the warehouse, his silver hair shining in the waning light.

  Lynn stared after him. There had been something in his eyes that made her think he didn't believe they would ever meet again. Something in the dark depths that had made her believe Agent William Stewart didn't think she would survive this assignment.

  Chapter 5

  The flight touched down in Miami at a few minutes after midnight East Coast time. It was after twelve-thirty by the time Lynn got off the plane, retrieved her suitcase from the luggage carousel and hailed a cab to take her to her new, temporary life.

  The scents and the sights as the cab drove her toward the Stingray Wharf area were achingly familiar and brought back memories of her former life here in Miami.

  Before she'd discovered that she was nothing more than a pawn in Jonas's illegal activities, she'd had a life most would have envied. She'd had the best of everything, but had also suffered a depth of loneliness that few people would understand.

  Nick had understood.

  She couldn't revisit those memories without thinking of Nick and the passion and caring they'd found together. She'd never be able to think of him without wondering what would have happened had she stayed in Miami.

  Would their love have continued to grow and flourish or would they have discovered that it had been emotion born from circumstance and nothing more than a brief illusion?

  She'd wondered often about her feelings for Nick in those first months of living in Phoenix. She'd wondered if maybe she'd felt so intensely for him simply because he'd been at the right place at the right time. Could he have been any man who paid attention to her?

  Loneliness had been the only constant companion in her life, and she'd been hungry for male attention. Was it any wonder that she'd thrived beneath Nick's heated gazes and sweet touch?

  She was the first to admit that she was no longer that hungry, lonely young woman she'd been. She'd changed and there was no way of knowing how much Nick had changed in the time they'd been apart.

  "You sure this is the address you want?" the cabby asked from the front seat. He adjusted the rearview mirror so his gaze met hers.

  Lynn leaned forward. "Positive. Why? Is there a problem?"

  "No, no problem. It's just kind of a rough area for a young woman."

  "Yeah well, what are you going to do? It's home for now." She leaned back in the seat and redirected her attention out the window.

  The streets they were traveling now were a long way from the streets Lynn had known when she'd lived here. Then, she'd known where to find all the most expensive boutiques, the finest dining establishments and upscale spas and clubs.

  Then, it had been nothing for her to spend on a pair of shoes what she now paid in rent for her apartment in Phoenix. The tips she'd left at restaurants now paid for weekly groceries. Still, she didn't miss her old life. She preferred having less and being her own person.

  These streets were dark, with broken streetlights and boarded-up buildings. At this time of night few people were out, and those who were clung to the shadows, never fully revealing themselves.

  She leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. Would Nick be her contact here in Miami? She knew that just because she'd requested him didn't mean that he'd be the agent assigned to this particular job.

  Her feelings about working with him again were mixed. The moment she'd seen him again all the old feelings had rushed in and she'd felt a happiness she hadn't known since the last time she'd seen him.

  But those feelings had been tempered by the fa
ct that he hadn't sought her out because he couldn't live without her, hadn't hunted her down because he needed to see her, he'd simply been doing what he'd been commanded to do.

  Thoughts of Nick fled as the cabby came to a halt in front of a three-story brick apartment building. Even though Blake had warned her that it was a tough area and her expectations for her living arrangements had been low, this place was more dismal than she'd anticipated.

  She stepped out of the backseat of the cab and the first thing that struck her was the smell. The scents of briny salt and rotting fish mingled with oil and gasoline to produce a distinctly unpleasant odor. Trash spilled out of cans that lined the sidewalk, the acrid smell only adding to the repellent mix.

  As the cabby pulled her large suitcase from his trunk, Lynn scanned the surrounding area. At the nearest intersection the streetlight was dark, but beer signs from a tavern illuminated a handful of big, burly men standing on the corner. Raucous jukebox music poured from the open door of the bar.

  Across the street a lone woman stood in a sparkly miniskirt that bared long, bony legs and a blouse that barely hid the biggest breasts Lynn had ever seen. As she paid the cabby she felt the malevolent glare from the woman following her every movement.

  Lynn grabbed her suitcase and large briefcase and headed into the building. The lobby was nothing more than a small enclosure containing a single elevator. The pungent smell of stale cooking odors, urine and body perspiration caused Lynn's nose to wrinkle in defense. It was the smell of hopelessness and despair, of shattered lives and misery.

  A week, two at the most, she told herself as she stepped into the elevator that would take her to her apartment on the third floor.

  Thankfully she encountered nobody on her way to apartment 306. She steeled herself as she opened the door and flipped on the light switch to give her a first glimpse of the place she would call home.

  It was bad, but it wasn't as bad as she'd expected after walking through the lobby. As Blake had said, it was a studio with a kitchenette against one wall. The kitchen appliances were avocado green, definitely antiques, as were the rest of the sparse furnishings, but at least it looked clean and the door had both a chain and a dead bolt to assure security while she was inside.