“Admirable,” Sophie muttered.
“So what’s it going to be, Dr. Leroux? Our briefing is in 45 minutes.”
“Sheesh, you don’t give people a lot of time to decide do you?”
“Makes them overthink things,” Marissa said with a throaty laugh.
Sophie grinned. “Makes sense.”
“Well?”
Derek could very well strangle her, but she was still her own person despite a very overprotective boyfriend, and she could damn well make her own decisions.
“I’ll do it.”
Staring at the closed door, Sophie thought sadly that Derek did not strangle her; he walked out on her.
***
Sophie woke and checked the clock by the nightstand. She could have sworn she heard a loud noise. It was 2:00 a.m. and Derek had been gone for almost eight hours. She heard footsteps shuffle to the bedroom. Was he drunk? Tempted as she was to check on him, she was still angry he took off the way he did. He had shown her so much patience in the past two weeks, she was surprised how easy it was to talk to him and just be around him. And now with the biggest discussion of their lives, he just disappeared. Yes, she was still mad at him. Sophie pretended to be asleep.
Which was why it was a shock when the blanket was yanked off from her and she was flipped on her front, Derek’s weight fell on her back and pressed her into the mattress.
“Derek, what?” she gasped.
She felt his warm breath fan her cheeks; he reeked of scotch.
“Need to fuck you hard,” he growled as he ripped her panties away and she immediately felt her nipples pebble, warmth pooling between her thighs. He cupped her mound before ruthlessly pushing a finger into her, his thumb rubbing her until she got so wet. “All I want to do is keep you from harm, Sophie, why won’t you let me?” he whispered hoarsely. Oh god, that felt so good, she thought as Derek ground his hardness against her ass while vigorously fingering her slick, drenched opening.
Sophie couldn’t help the moan of pleasure from escaping her lips and that was enough to set Derek off. He worked his erection free and shoved so hard inside her, they both yelled.
“Ahh, fuck Angel,” Derek grunted into her neck, as his arm encircled her waist, hauling her against him, his other arm fully extended on her side to support them as he rammed his cock over and over inside her, his hips hitting her ass, the carnal sound of flesh slapping against flesh resonating in the room. Derek’s grunts of pleasure as he powered inside her, so guttural and primal, spurred her own arousal making her mindless with need. She was about to hit her peak when he groaned almost as if in anguish: “Not enough, not deep enough.”
He withdrew, flipped her quickly on her back, spread her thighs, ruthlessly exposing her before he slammed back inside her.
“Derek! I’m coming,” Sophie cried, digging her nails into his shoulders. Her orgasm, when it hit her, was incandescent, she felt like a super nova reaching critical mass and shattering into a million pulsating stars. She felt her sex spasming even as his cock continued to pound inside her.
“You’re never leaving me, Sophie.”
Sophie opened her eyes to see Derek staring down at her with an almost feral look that made her breath hitch. Animalistic possession. He moved above her, his cock hardening to that point of rapture, and Sophie marveled at the beautiful man who was claiming every inch of her.
“You’re mine!” Derek shouted.
“Mine!” he repeated as he thrust harder. “Damn you. You’re mine. Mine.” His choked, strangled voice touched her soul and for the first time, Sophie fully understood his consuming need for her. Because at this moment, she felt the same. She needed him. Completely. Desperately.
Derek squeezed his eyes shut as the intensity of his climax rippled through his body. He rocked into her one more time before he froze and the warm gush of his cum filled her. Yes, she was unequivocally his.
Derek untangled their limbs and collapsed beside her, not moving. He had never taken her with such ferocity and at first it frightened her, but she knew he would never hurt her no matter how drunk or angry he was. She snuck a peek at him and frowned. Asleep? He was asleep? He fell asleep on her after giving her the best orgasm of her life?
Shaking her head with amusement, she took pity on him and did her best to make him more comfortable, managing to pull his pants off. Then she crawled up beside him and stared down at his sleeping face—so relaxed now in repose. Sophie felt her heart swell in her chest. She was in love with this man. With a finger, she lightly traced the outline of his forehead, down his nose before resting on his lips. She kissed him lightly and whispered, “Just so you know, I love you too.”
***
Derek blinked his eyes open and felt the disgusting after-effects of a hangover. Not again. The last time he felt this way, he nearly lost Sophie. He noticed he was in the shirt he wore yesterday. What had happened? He remembered calling Jack and ending up in his penthouse. Maia left them to commiserate with each other after a couple of drinks and the conversation veered to how their women were screwing with their heads, and they should have said heads examined.
After he nearly passed out on Jack’s couch, Maia drove him home. He had no idea how she managed to get him into his building, but he suspected his building’s concierge might have helped.
He reached out to Sophie’s side of the bed and felt nothing but cold and empty space. Derek shot up in bed, his head was pounding and he was panicking. Where was she? Memories of the night before—or this morning—came back in flashes. He took her ruthlessly. Did he force her? His stomach roiled as he made his way out of the bedroom.
“Sophie!” Derek yelled. She was not in the kitchen or the living room. The coffee was made, but she was not in the condo. Cursing, he ran back to the bathroom, splashed water on his face and rinsed his mouth. He quickly donned a pair of jeans and made his way back to the kitchen. He was about to punch her number on his phone when he heard the door open.
Sophie walked in with a box of bagels.
“Oh good, you’re awake,” she said, smiling at him. When Derek just stared at her, she crinkled her brows and said, “Bad hangover?”
The overwhelming sense of relief he felt nearly brought him to his knees. She had not left him after all.
“Derek?”
“I thought you left me,” Derek whispered, moving toward her. He clasped the back of her neck and pulled her gently to him, resting her head just below his chin. “Don’t leave me, Angel. I love you so much.”
“Why would you think I’d leave you?” Sophie asked, her words a bit muffled because her face was buried on chest.
“I was—I was afraid I forced myself on you last night,” he mumbled into her hair. “Did I hurt you, Sophie?”
She pushed back from him with an indignant look. “No! You did not force me. Who knew drunk sex could be so erotic?”
Derek felt his heart and something in his nether region swell. Sophie reached up and pinched his cheek affectionately. “Next time, honey, drink a little less. Drunk sex is great, but it would be better if you stayed awake long enough for the afterglow.”
“Minx,” Derek muttered.
“Hey, I’m still upset with you for taking off when we had some serious discussion going on,” Sophie said as she pulled out the bagels and cream cheese.
The reason for his drunken binge last night came rushing back. He and Jack had gotten nowhere with that discussion as the scotch flowed fairly quickly.
“What you said cut deep, Sophie,” Derek admitted. “It made me feel worthless when all I wanted to do was protect you. I wanted to lash out. I had to leave before I said something I would regret.”
“I should have phrased my words better,” Sophie said softly. “You did not deserve what I said. Especially after all you’ve done for me.”
“What kills me is there’s some truth to your statement. But I’m not letting you go without me. That will never happen.”
“So you’re okay with me going?”
“Training starts tomorrow.”
“Maia’s helping with the training,” Derek replied. “There’s no one better to prepare you. We’ve got three days before we leave.”
***
“So, have you told him you love him yet?” Beth asked.
They were hanging out at the same spot as the other day in front of the DC Tattler building. The August heat beat down on them, the humidity was thick and suffocating. Not a gentle breeze relieved the stagnant air.
“Not really. No.” Sophie sighed. She watched the condensation trickle down her cold fountain drink.
“What’s stopping you?”
“Besides the fact that I could become a mass murderer. Oh nothing,” Sophie replied sarcastically.
Beth winced. “About that, Sophie—”
“It’s fine. Forget it.”
Just then a little girl with light shimmering blonde hair walked up to them. She was about eight-years old and looked faintly familiar. She held out a cell phone to Sophie and said, “He told me you should do it.”
Sophie frowned as she reached for the phone. “He? Do what?” She looked around expecting Derek to suddenly jump out and say “psyche.”
It was then she stared into the girl’s gray eyes and noticed how similar they were to her own. The girl smiled sadly, took a couple of steps back and walked away.
Sophie rose from the bench to go after her, but her eyes were inexplicably drawn to the phone. The screen flickered oddly, and she was prompted in some trance-like state to punch in some numbers and press send. Sophie glanced up at the little girl’s retreating form. Silver light engulfed her tiny body, turning it as black as charcoal with fiery embers shooting out from within.
Filled with horror, Sophie wanted to scream, but she had gone mute, so she reached out only to see her hand turn red and slowly dissolve.
Beth stood up to shake her, but her best friend was nothing more but deformed flesh, like a figure made out of wax and thrown into a fire, melted just like she was.
“Oh god, oh god!” Her mind screamed.
“Sophie!”
“No...no...I did this. I killed them!”
“Sophie, wake up!”
She was breathing hard when her eyes shot open and focused on Derek’s worried face.
“I killed them...the little girl...Beth,” Sophie whispered raggedly.
“It’s just a dream, baby,” Derek said soothingly, gathering her into his arms and rocking her gently.
Sophie felt her body spasm, her tears flowing freely.
“There was an explosion, I caused it—”
“Just a dream,” Derek said firmly. He set her away for a bit, and cupped her face, his thumbs caressing her cheek, and wiping her tears away. His own eyes were tortured, and Sophie’s heart splintered with the knowledge that her own messed-up life was causing Derek such anguish.
“What if we can’t stop it?” Sophie mumbled. Her mind seemed to finally accept the fate of the zee bomb’s destructive inevitability, which her subconscious already knew.
“We’re going to stop it, Sophie,” Derek assured her. “We can’t fail.”
***
“Who are you?” Marissa asked her.
“I’m Linda Brooks, I’m a tax accountant with Enoch and York. I’m here on vacation with my girlfriend, Susan Halloway. I’m 28-years old, grew up in Charlotte North Carolina. Both parents deceased. Unmarried. I currently live in 205 Bleaker Street, Vienna Virginia,” Sophie droned on. Their rental car was exiting O.R. Tambo International Airport located northeast of Johannesburg. Marissa, aka Susan Halloway, was driving.
The team had been divided into smaller groups and were all given inconspicuous covers. Marissa’s cover was a buyer for a high-end retailer, and she clearly could pull it off with her expensive clothes and shoes—working the polished look with no problem. Who would suspect her of leading a CIA Black Ops team?
“Great job, Sophie,” Marissa said. Sophie watched her maneuver the vehicle to the M1 thoroughfare that would lead them straight to the heart of Johannesburg. It was 9:00 a.m. Johannesburg time, Saturday morning. Their hotel was located on St. Andrews road in the district of Parktown—a place well known for street cafes. They were going to meet up with the rest of the AGS-CIA team during the regular Saturday night street festival in Melville. It was also a beer festival, so there would be lots of people, making it easier to hide and rendezvous for a final mission briefing.
An advance reconnaissance team that included Derek had left two days before. Her man was not pleased at all with the plan to separate them, but being the team player that he was and not wanting to be taken off the mission, he went along with the playbook. An inner room at one of the drinking dives was going to be used as the meeting place. The location had been vetted by the CIA station in South Africa and had been used frequently for secret drops. Such was the life of a spook: false identities, secret drops and secret rooms.
Marissa pulled into a quaint boutique hotel, La Belle Epoche. Two African men in khaki shorts and loose white polo shirts immediately met their vehicle to open their doors. Sophie stepped out and stretched. She couldn’t wait to take a nap. According to Marissa, everything would happen fast. The team planned to go on the offensive at zero dark thirty, Sunday morning. Once they left the hotel this evening, they wouldn’t be back until the end of the mission. Everything they needed would be at the briefing room: clothes, weapons and other gear.
Marissa checked-in while Sophie hung back. What had she gotten herself into? When had she become a spy? This was crazy. Of course she couldn’t tell Stephen and Beth where she was. She told them she was taking a vacation to some tropical paradise somewhere with Derek. Crazy.
“Linda.”
A hand grasped her elbow tightly. “Linda. You seem to be extremely jet-lagged,” Marissa said meaningfully, her green eyes narrowing in disapproval. “Focus, Linda.”
Oh yeah, that was her name. Sheesh. This was going to be difficult. Jet-lagged and under an assumed identity. How do spies do it? Really.
***
It was a sea of humanity—the Saturday night market at Melville. It was raunchier, Sophie suspected, because it coincided with a beer festival. Vendors lined the street hawking their wares of South African heritage souvenirs. There were tables of gorgeous ceramics and beaded artwork, cape Dutch antiques, impressive wood carvings and an array of endless costume jewelry. Loud music from every corner vibrated through the air infusing it with carefree revelry. She shook her head at how small she had allowed her world to be by shutting herself away in her lab.
Sophie gravitated toward the food vendors; heavenly curry aromas assailed her nostrils. She wondered if there was time to grab something to eat. Maybe they could pack some food for the team. God knows what they would serve at the beer joint they were meeting at. She quickly glanced around for Marissa. Shit. Where was she?
Her hunger forgotten, Sophie quickly pushed through the crowd. Some people glared at her because she had jostled them while they were drinking their beer, spilling the liquid.
“Hey, watch it will you?” Disgruntled folks barked at her.
“Sorry. Sorry,” Sophie muttered. She was so stupid. This was not a sight-seeing trip. The one instruction Marissa had hammered into her was to stick to her and not let her out of her sight and she couldn’t even do that. She let her curiosity and awe of the place distract her and boy, was she easily distracted. She mentally crossed out “CIA agent” from her list of future professions.
Thankfully, she was tall enough to look over the crowd and spot Marissa maybe twenty feet from her. “Mari...Susan!” Damn it. Trying not to lose track of the brunette, Sophie became more aggressive in weaving through the crowd. Unfortunately, some folks were not too happy to have their beer sloshed on them. One of them shoved Sophie back.
He also looked to be a tourist, college-age. “Watch it!” And Australian.
“Sorry, but I’m trying to get to—” Sophie craned her neck. Damn. Marissa was out of sight again.
“What’s the rush, darlin’,” he drawled. “You spilled my beer. You get me another one.”
The Australian reached out to grab her, but was immediately pushed aside.
“She’s with me.”
Sophie felt relieved, expecting to see one of the AGS/CIA commandos. Instead she stared straight into the piercing eyes of Stan Morgan.
***
Derek waited impatiently by one of the street vendors selling grilled chicken livers on a stick. He took a long pull from his beer—his first and last one for the day. They still had hours before the mission, so he allowed himself this indulgence. The sorghum and maize-based beer in South Africa were actually quite good and went so well with the street food.
Their reconnaissance mission was productive, and they were able to nail down specifics like timings and a visual lay of the land. He and Quint got over their rocky start and realized they worked well together and understood the implications of their mission. Their model of incursion teams were not restricted by military protocols. They would do anything to get the job done and that included breaking the laws in a foreign land. The clincher was, with Black Ops, if they got caught, the US government would immediately disavow all knowledge of them. These were the risks they took every single time.
“See them yet?” Quint asked beside him. They were dressed in casual khakis and linen shirts. Their cover: history professors specializing in African culture. Derek had a little fun playing the part, slicking his hair back with gel and wearing spectacles.
“No,” Derek replied. “Wait. There’s Susan.” No sign of Sophie. What the hell? Derek peeled himself from the sidelines and made his way to the CIA team lead. She was not looking happy and Derek felt his temper rising.
“Where is she?” he growled.
“We got separated,” Marissa said in annoyance. “She was supposed to stick to me. Damn it!”
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