by CL Hart
"I understand all that. I understand why we need operatives that don't exist. What I don't understand is why somebody went to all the trouble of making your flight to Mexico disappear. What about this Colonel Manuck?"
"I don't know. He has to answer to someone. Somebody in the military had to okay this." Despite her protest, her words no longer had the strength of her convictions. "Somebody in the government had to know what was going on-"
"Katherine," the judge interrupted quietly.
"I had my orders. Colonel Manuck gave me my orders." The answers sounded hollow, even to her, as she contemplated what he was telling her.
Cori watched in growing apprehension as Kenzie lowered herself onto the bed.
"This isn't right, Judge. This isn't right." She swallowed hard as the dryness of her mouth thickened her tongue. "If there's no record of the mission in Mexico, then who ordered the hit? Who's calling the shots?"
"Katherine, have you talked to this Colonel Manuck?"
Kenzie wiped hard at her face. "No," she answered with an anxious sigh.
"No communication with him whatsoever?"
"No."
"Why not?" the judge asked.
It was not the first time that question had crossed her mind. Colonel Manuck was her superior, she answered to him, but he was much more than that to her - he was her mentor. Kenzie had trusted him like she had trusted no other. He was to have her back, so why had he not been there for her this time? "I don't know. I wouldn't know how to...he's always contacted me."
Judge Woodward listened to her words, letting them sink in before he commented, "Then why didn't he contact you when the mission failed?"
"I don't know. He couldn't. He had no way to." The truth was, she didn't want to know the real reason, because if Manuck was not with her, he was against her. That meant Kenzie really was out there all alone.
"Have you tried to contact anyone else?"
"Manuck was the only one I ever talked to. He was my only contact."
"There was no one else? What about in the case of an emergency? There had to be a number or a least a name of someone to call."
Frustrated, Kenzie lashed out. "No. I told you! I was to have no connection with the military or the government whatsoever! I was on my own."
Regretting that he'd had to push her into thinking beyond the familiar parameters under which she operated, the judge sighed. "Exactly."
The phone on Deputy Director Bucannon's desk warbled, echoing loudly inside the quiet office. "Bucannon," he answered curtly.
"Sir, its Agent Bisby. We just had something interesting on the asset's tap."
"Talk to me," he answered impatiently as he picked up a pencil and put it to paper. The asset referred to was the judge. It made their jobs less complicated if no one used names.
"A call came in a few minutes ago, but there was no connection. He didn't pick up the phone."
"He's home?" Bucannon queried.
"Affirmative, sir."
"So what...he was busy and he didn't want to answer the phone."
"It happened twice, both calls coming in within seconds. He didn't answer either of them, sir. It was out of the ordinary so I thought I would let you know."
"What was the number?"
"There was no number, sir, because there was no connection. No connection, no trace."
It was her. Bucannon was certain. "What did he do?"
"That's just it. He didn't do anything. He never picked up the phone. He didn't try calling the number back, nothing."
"What about his cell phone?"
"Inactive, sir." Agent Bisby waited. He was unsure whether he had done the right thing by disturbing the Deputy Director, even though it was his asset and his operation.
Bucannon's mind was racing with possibilities. What is she doing? Trying to reach the judge, but why? Maybe we should get rid of him. "Shit, he's a goddamn federal judge," he muttered to himself in disbelief at the thought that had crossed his mind.
"Sir?" Agent Bisby questioned in confusion.
"Just a minute, I'm thinking." Bucannon rubbed his temple and then began to tap lightly on his forehead. "What is he doing right now?" The agents had no idea who the judge was or why he was targeted. It was not their job to know, it was his.
Bucannon listened as Agent Bisby asked his surveillance partner. There was a long moment of silence before the other agent spoke, and the Deputy Director strained to hear what was said, but he couldn't make it out.
"He's what?" Clearly even Agent Bisby was startled by his partner's comment. "But we don't have anything on that-"
"Agent Bisby, what the hell is going on?" Bucannon angrily interrupted the two agents' discussion.
"Ah, sir, it would appear that the asset is on a cell phone, one we were not aware he had," Agent Bisby said.
"Well, whose phone is it? Where did he get another phone?" The fact that the judge had gone out of his way to acquire a spare phone confirmed what he suspected: the judge had been in contact with them.
"I don't know, sir. We've checked our records and as far as we know, he only had the one cell phone."
"Well, I would say you missed one! Get a patch on that other phone." Bucannon rose to his feet. "I want to know who the hell he's talking to!"
"We aren't set up for that, sir. We just have a mobile," Agent Bisby said, referring to the minivan they were crammed into.
"Son of a bitch!" the Deputy Director yelled as he paced. They had her, goddamn it, but he couldn't find her unless they could trace the call. "Do you have a cone?"
"A cone?"
"What exactly are they teaching you these days?" Bucannon fired off in annoyance. "A cone...a parabolic microphone."
"Negative, sir."
"I need audio! I need to know what he's saying!"
"Do you want us to break shadow?"
"No. We don't need that," Bucannon said, not wanting his agents to leave the anonymity of the vehicle. Then again, if the judge knew what was going on, he knew too much already. "Do you have the ability to acquire the asset?"
The question caught Agent Bisby off guard. They were there as surveillance not as a scoop squad, though he would do whatever was ordered. "We aren't set up for it, but if that's what you need, sir."
"Yes...no," he quickly corrected. "Just sit on him and try to find out who he's talking to. Let me work on it from this end." He disconnected the call and punched in Manuck's number.
"We have a situation."
"I'm well aware of that," Manuck said.
Bucannon ignored the sarcastic tone. "The judge is on a cell phone with someone, and we don't know who he's talking to."
"You can't trace it?" You are inept, Bucannon. How did you get to be Deputy Director? Manuck had been in a foul mood all day, and the incompetence of those around him was not helping any.
"It isn't a phone we were aware of. My guess is he picked up a clean one or has borrowed one, because there's no evidence that he purchased one."
Manuck didn't have to guess who the judge might want to call. He was more concerned with the why. "So she's talking to him. Interesting."
"What do you want to do? You want me to grab him?"
"No. He's our lead to those two and we need to find them." Manuck contemplated the situation for a moment. "You can't trace the call?"
"No, not at the moment, unless of course you want me to take the surveillance into the main war room. If we do that, though, we're bringing a lot of people into this. I think we need to keep this as quiet as possible."
"I agree. Can you get in and place some bugs?"
"That I can do."
"What do you mean - on my own? I'm working for my government, for my country."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, goddamn it, I'm sure. I follow orders."
"Katherine, I think you need to look at this...and..." His voice trailed off.
"Judge?" Kenzie queried after a moment of silence on the phone.
"Just a minute," he answered quietly,
and she could hear him moving around.
"What's wrong?"
"I'm not sure." The judge turned off his living room light and moved slowly toward the front window. "I think..." he cautiously pulled back the corner of the curtain, "I think I have babysitters," he said angrily as he eyed the van across the street.
"Any idea who it is?"
He slowly moved the curtain back into place, not wanting the surveillance to know they had been spotted. "My first thought would be to assume they're looking for you."
"You need to get out of there."
"I'm not going to go sneaking out into the dark like some common criminal."
"If they're after me, then it wouldn't be a stretch to say they'll be coming after you," Kenzie said with growing regret. She had put the judge - who was the closest thing to family she had - in danger. "You need to get out of there," she repeated.
"They aren't going to grab me out of my own home."
"You're right, they probably won't grab you. They'll just take you out of the equation."
"Katherine, I'm a federal judge," he said with authority.
"And I've taken out men a lot more powerful than a federal judge," she said clearly. "I don't know what's going on here, but I'd feel a lot better if I knew you were safe. You need to get out of your house. Get somewhere safe - you know how to do that. Then call me."
"What are you going to do?"
The question echoed her own thoughts. "I don't know. I don't know where to start to sort this mess out."
"In my experience, Katherine, trouble comes from greed for either money or power. Pick one, and don't let go until you find your answers. I would start with your Colonel Manuck."
Chapter 20
Agent Bisby was holding onto his headset with one hand and tweaking dials with the other. His partner, Agent Willow, was running a numeric algorithm on his computer, searching for a cell phone number he knew he would never get. The knock on the side door of the minivan caused them both to jump.
"What the hell?" Bisby looked at his partner in question.
Willow leaned back and peeked through the heavy curtain separating the back of the van from the cab. "It's the cops."
On cue, the officer outside the van banged impatiently. "Open up, Seattle PD."
"Shit." Bisby pulled off his headphones. "Bucannon isn't going to like this." He parted the curtains and climbed into the passenger seat, pulling the curtain shut behind him. He could clearly see the uniformed officers, one next to the van and the other standing near their patrol car that was blocking in the van. Standard procedure, Bisby thought as he reached for the door handle.
"Hands where I can see them," the officer standing at the door ordered. His gun was out, though aimed at the ground. "Hands where I can see them!" he demanded loudly.
Agent Bisby complied, his hands out in front of him as he slowly exited the van. "Officer, I can explain."
The judge's car reversed quickly out of his driveway, and both Agent Bisby and the police officer turned to look.
"Willow, he's leaving!" Bisby yelled as he slapped at the side of the van.
The cop turned his attention back to the occupant from the reportedly suspicious van. "Hands up!" the cop bellowed.
The door of the van slid open revealing Agent Willow in his dark navy slacks, crisp white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and his gun in a shoulder holster.
"Gun! Gun!" the uniformed officer yelled, escalating the situation.
"We're CIA agents," Bisby tried to explain with his hands held high over his head. He watched in disbelieving anger as the taillights of the asset's car disappeared from sight.
"Hands up. Don't move!" The second cop had moved in and now pulled Agent Bisby's gun from his hip holster.
"We are CIA agents!" Bisby repeated in angry frustration.
The police officers weren't listening as one of them pulled Agent Willow from the van and confiscated his gun.
"Get on the ground! Get on the ground!" the cop directed.
"We are CIA agents. My ID is in my suit jacket in the van," Bisby said through clenched teeth. Deputy Director Bucannon was not going to be happy at all.
Cori gave Kenzie some space after she hung up the phone. Her conversation with the judge had obviously bothered her, but she didn't seem to want to talk about anything in detail. Cori understood the basics, and that was hard enough for her to process. A full stomach, a warm motel room, and a large bed soon proved to be too enticing for Cori.
Soft, steady snoring distracted Kenzie from the swirl of activity in her mind. Seeing Cori asleep, she began to feel her own exhaustion. She went over and sat on the bed. Cori's expression was so tranquil and at peace, that Kenzie was a little envious. She brushed back Cori's bangs, letting her fingertips follow the contours of her cheek. Why did all of this have to happen now? Why couldn't we have met under different circumstances?
"Hey."
Cori's whisper drew her attention, and Kenzie smiled down at the sleepy-eyed woman.
"Hey," Kenzie responded.
"You okay?"
"Yeah."
"Come to bed," Cori requested.
"Is it time to change my bandages?" Kenzie asked mischievously, forgetting for the moment all the problems they faced.
Cori tugged Kenzie firmly toward her. "We may get to that."
The next morning when Cori woke, she found reassurance in the fact that for the first time since she'd met Kenzie, Cori knew exactly where she was - in the same place she had fallen asleep. It was a nice feeling, but not as nice as the comfort she found in the warmth of the woman beside her. Kenzie's fever was a thing of the past, and her wounds were healing nicely. Cori smiled to herself as she recalled the evidence that Kenzie's strength and stamina were returning as well. They had made love long into the night, exploring each other's bodies with a sense of discovery. Kenzie was an incredible lover and, for a moment, Cori thought about waking her to tell her that, but decided to let her sleep. She was exhausted and still recovering from her wounds.
Cori ran her fingertips over Kenzie's naked back as she let her mind wander. All they had been through together, whether it was by choice or circumstance, was no longer part of her thoughts.
Regretfully, she finally disentangled herself from Kenzie's arm and legs, and padded barefoot to the bathroom. As much as she didn't want to rise, her morning pee was not going to wait. Once she was up, she knew she could not go back to bed. Besides, she didn't want to disturb Kenzie's much needed rest.
The motel-supplied coffee was perking and its aroma filled the air, waking Kenzie. She carefully stretched as her eyes opened to the woman hunched over the table. Her interest was piqued as she watched Cori scribbling away on a note pad. Crawling quietly out of bed, she moved with silence toward a seriously focused Cori. Standing behind her, she watched as Cori continued making notes on the pad of paper they had brought from the train.
"What's this?" Kenzie asked, causing Cori to jump.
"Holy crap, you scared me!" Cori brought her hand up to her pounding chest.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."
Cori took a moment to gather herself, then leaned back in the chair. "It's something I was trying to work out in my mind."
Kenzie looked over the notes with interest. "You have a lot going on in that pretty little mind of yours, don't you?"
"I was trying to figure out where I had heard your name before, but nothing is connecting. The only place our paths might have crossed would have been in Seattle."
"That would explain why you brought us back here."
"I hadn't really considered that."
Picking up the pad of paper, Kenzie flipped through all of Cori's notes. "I thought we had been over your time in Seattle."
"It's your name," Cori said. "I know I've heard your name before, I just can't place where."
"Heard it, or seen it?"
Cori thought about the question for a moment, but shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know."
&n
bsp; Kenzie gave her the pad back and then turned her attention to the world outside their window. "The judge should be here soon," she said, more to herself than to the preoccupied Cori. He had called the night before after he had shaken his watchdogs. It took him a while to convince Kenzie that he would be okay and would see them in the morning. Reluctantly, she had given him their location, hoping the information would not put anyone else into jeopardy.
"I'm gonna take a quick shower," she said as she crossed to the bathroom. "Don't open the door for anyone, understood?"
"What about the judge?" Cori asked.
A second later, Kenzie poked her head out. "How would you know it was him? You've never met him."
"Point taken," Cori said as Kenzie disappeared into the bathroom. The sound of running water quickly followed.
Flipping over her pad, Cori wrote out Kenzie's full name for the second time.
Freshly washed, and with a cup of motel coffee in her hand, Kenzie walked over and offered her cup to Cori. She declined with a shake of her head. "How're you making out?"
"I'm just driving myself crazy," Cori said.
Kenzie leaned down and kissed the top of her head. "Don't do that. It will come to you, but not if you push it." She grabbed the edge of the curtain and peered out into the drizzly morning. Stepping closer to the window, she placed her coffee down without taking her eyes off the car that had pulled into the motel parking lot. "I think he's here." Moving away from the window, she grabbed her gun and quickly returned. As far as she could see, he had not been followed.
The motel was shaped like a large, square U, and Kenzie had chosen their room because it was located directly across from the driveway, giving them full view of who came and went.
The judge moved slowly across the wet, deserted parking lot, heading not toward them, but to the closest covered walkway. Kenzie glanced at him several times, realizing he was moving slowly so she could see if anyone was following him. To her relief, he was alone. Unlocking the door with her left hand, Kenzie put her back against the wall as she held the gun with her right. She urgently motioned for Cori to move to the bathroom, and the young woman quickly complied.