OOPS! I'M A SECRET AGENT (Romance)

by Black, De-ann

  Now here I was, dressed in expensive clothes, pretending to be the fiancee of this handsome man. And heading to a party where there was a traitor in our midst.

  Christmas decorations adorned the elegant function room of the hotel where around two hundreds guests were enjoying the evening. A large Christmas tree sparkled in the corner, and a live band played great music interspersed with festive favourites.

  The hotel was upmarket, all plush carpeting, chandeliers, white linen and silver service. Everyone, including the band, was dressed to impress in evening wear.

  Guests were being seated at their respective tables, and the dance floor waited to be filled with couples after the meal was finished.

  I stood beside the Christmas tree and waited for Montpelier to come back with our drinks. Or so he said. I suspected he was up to something else. My guess was that he was dealing with the other agents, including Alexavier, before everyone was seated. The scent of the real Christmas tree filled the air around me, as did the feeling that I was being watched.

  I glanced around at all the people who were mingling near the bars. My senses were on red alert. Who was watching me? I scanned the faces and saw Alexavier at the far corner. Our eyes connected. No reaction from either of us. A hidden acknowledgment. Seeing him there made the butterflies in my stomach calm a little, but when our gaze disconnected, the feeling of being watched didn’t go away. In fact, it intensified.

  I turned towards the tree, pretending to admire the baubles, though I was really turning my back to see if I could sense which direction the watcher’s eyes were homing in on me.

  A warning shiver rippled up my back. Whoever had me in their sights was located on the opposite side of the room to Alexavier, probably nearer the other bar. I went to turn slowly, trying not to arouse suspicion, when I saw the figure of a man approaching me reflected in one of the large gold baubles. The curve of the bauble obscured the figure, like that of a fairground mirror that distorts someone’s size and frame. But as he got nearer I saw that he was tall and sturdy, with a drink in his hand, and the other hand in his jacket pocket. My immediate thought was — does he have a gun?

  I took a deep breath, not realising I’d been holding it, and prepared to run if necessary rather than stand there like a static target. Jenkins’ words from my training flashed through my mind. ‘The top form of defence is not to be in the situation in the first place. If you are, your next line of defence is to run. Run like blazes, Neve. If you cannot run, your next line is to turn and face them, keeping your back secure against a wall, an object. But whatever you do, never back yourself into a corner you cannot get out of.’

  I turned and kept the tree at my back.

  The man was closing in. Dinner suit, glass of champagne, full, untouched, to make him appear part of the party scene while being no part of the happy atmosphere at all. The cold look in his eyes chilled me to the core. I’d never had any man look at me as if he would kill me without a second thought. Panic burned the back of my throat.

  ‘Neve!’ Montpelier’s voice rescued me from the man’s clutches.

  The man stopped and changed direction, and disappeared in the melee of people heading to the tables.

  ‘Smile,’ Montpelier said to me. ‘Deep breath. Smile, Neve.’

  My lips forced a smile and I did my damndest to look genuine.

  Montpelier gave me a kiss on the tip of my nose, a sign of affection, playing his part. Then supposedly whispering sweet nothings in my ear, he told me that the man was one of their targets and Alexavier would deal with him and I need not worry further.

  My smile eased towards the genuine level it needed to be.

  I nuzzled into Montpelier’s ear, on tip–toes, compensating for the height difference between us even with my high heels on.

  He leaned down a tad to listen as I whispered in his ear, ‘Was he going to kill me?’

  ‘He certainly didn’t have your best interests at heart.’

  We pulled away and smiled at each other. Our acting skills were being stretched to their limits. I felt slightly sick.

  He handed me a glass of champagne. ‘Take a sip of your drink.’

  ‘I’d prefer to keep a clear head.’

  ‘It’s sparkling mineral water with a dash of ginger ale.’ He smiled at me, and even I would’ve been fooled by his smile as he relayed this information.

  I sipped my drink. Yep, mineral and ginger ale. Refreshing.

  He had a glass of the faux champagne and joined me in having a drink.

  ‘Has our cover been blown?’ I never thought I’d actually ask that question for real. Ever.

  ‘Not to those who matter.’

  I frowned.

  ‘We didn’t have time to brief you on everything, Neve. This assignment, as we’ve said, has been ongoing for months. It’s a complicated web. We have a few enemies in our midst. One of them suspects me of double dealing. Until earlier we weren’t sure whether he’d try to lure me to his side or put a knife in my back. Now we know it’s the latter.’

  He said this with a smile. It seemed genuine.

  ‘You’re saying this is what you wanted?’

  ‘It’s always easier to deal with a straightforward enemy than one who uses guile to make you trust them. Now we know what his intention is, he’ll be swept out of the game as we say.’

  My eyes widened.

  ‘He’ll be arrested, not taken out.’

  I nodded.

  ‘Why did he suspect you of double dealing?’

  ‘I couldn’t let any of them know my real objective, and someone became suspicious, so I had to let them think I was a twisted rat, capable of selling anyone down the river for money.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘But that’s not our objective this evening. We’re after the traitor.’

  ‘And that’s a different part of the game?’

  ‘Yes. The man who approached you isn’t directly involved with the traitorous strand of this whole messy business. He’s not an agent, a spy, traitor or any type of informant. He’s a professional arm twister hired to wield power over so–called deviants like me. A blackmailer of sorts. He targets rich businessmen, and that’s what they think I am.’

  ‘But Alexavier and the other agents will take care of him?’

  ‘Yes. He homed in on you because he saw us arrive together. He’d assume you were my girlfriend. He was probably going to use you as a weakener against me.’

  ‘A weakener?’

  ‘He could’ve captured you and threatened to do you harm if I didn’t cooperate.’

  ‘But he’s not part of these government men you mentioned?’

  ‘No, but we’ve many things to deal with in the department. Tonight our focus is the traitor.’

  ‘If you know he’s one of three men, can’t you bring them all in for questioning and find out the truth?’

  ‘It’s not like you see in the movies, Neve. We can’t go around making accusations to high ranking government people without proof. Two of them are clean. We have to use other methods, spying methods, tradecraft they call it.’

  Tradecraft. I committed this to memory, trying to learn everything I could.

  A shiver, like icy fingers, trailed across my shoulders and down my back. ‘Someone’s watching me,’ I said, and took a sip of my drink.

  ‘Where are they?’

  ‘Over near the bar in the corner.’

  Montpelier surreptitiously looked for them, but we were interrupted by a member of the waiting staff.

  ‘Your table is ready, Sir.’

  ‘Excellent,’ Montpelier said, escorting me to a table where ten others were already seated. Only two women were there, accompanying their husbands. The others included two of the suspected traitors.

  My heart rate increased and I hoped to play my part without giving the game away. Montpelier squeezed my hand and then kissed it. A couple of the men smiled, believing we were a happy couple.

  I sat between Montpelier and another man. Montpel
ier’s eyes signalled that one of our targets was sitting right next to me. In his mid forties, he had warmth and friendliness in his eyes. Had I not known he was one of the three suspects, I’d have let my guard down and considered him to be a fairly good looking, if slightly rotund, dinner guest.

  ‘Would you care to order?’ a waiter said to me as I skimmed the menu.

  I hesitated. I was reading the selection and yet my mind wasn’t taking it in.

  ‘I can recommend the Scottish salmon,’ the man next to me said in a smooth, deep, Scottish voice.

  ‘I think I’ll take your recommendation.’ I smiled at the man who introduced himself as Mr Brown.

  ‘Only my enemies call me John.’ He laughed lightly, sounding as if he was making a joke.

  ‘Neve.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you, Neve. I’m one of those stuffy government chappies but I won’t be boring you with politics or anything like that tonight.’ Mr Brown glanced around at the people. ‘I think this is going to be a wonderful evening.’

  The band began playing a traditional Christmas song, putting everyone in the mood for a fun evening ahead, and giving us a taste of the festive season that had already started in late November. Now that it was December, and the weather had helpfully supplied a few flakes of snow, or at least sleet, it didn’t seem too early to start celebrating the holiday season.

  ‘Maybe you’ll give me a dance later,’ said Mr Brown. ‘If your fiance doesn’t mind.’ He looked over at Montpelier.

  The word fiance jarred me. The way he said it, with a hint of knowing.

  ‘I saw that dazzling ring on your finger, Neve,’ he said.

  Damn! He’d read my expression. I had to do better to hide my thoughts from a man like him. A shrewd type.

  I wasn’t experienced in this sort of work, but I’d been in enough jobs to have come across men like him before. Maybe not politicians, but businessmen, men who had money and power. I’d worked for men like that. I wasn’t particularly streetwise, but I could suss a chancer, a devious charmer, when I met them.

  ‘Yes, of course. I’d be pleased to dance with you later, Mr Brown,’ I said, intending to keep my guard up against John.

  ‘Fair warning,’ Mr Brown said to Montpelier as we enjoyed our dinner, ‘I intend to steal this lovely young lady of yours this evening.’

  Montpelier squeezed my hand under the table and smiled confidently at Mr Brown. ‘And fair warning to you, as you have no idea what you’re letting yourself in for.’

  Mr Brown laughed heartily. ‘Ah, a bit of a handful, is she?’

  ‘She keeps fit by shopping. Shops for hours on end.’

  ‘I like a woman who keeps herself fit,’ he said. ‘And I think my wallet could just manage to accommodate her tastes.’

  All of this was said in light hearted quips, but had an underlying quality of parry and riposte.

  ‘Can I have the pleasure of this dance?’ A man said over my shoulder.

  I turned to see Alexavier standing there. No smile, no warmth, nothing in his expression. Unreadable. Except for one thing. Something only I would sense — peril. I was in danger from Mr Brown. A traitor or not, I was in jeopardy and Alexavier put himself between us as a shield.

  ‘Certainly.’ I put my napkin down, smiled sweetly at Montpelier, and took Alexavier’s hand.

  He led me on to the dance floor. Several couples were already dancing but it wasn’t crowded. I felt that eyes were on us, on Alexavier and me. John was watching, but I sensed someone else. Then I saw the man who was sitting opposite Montpelier at the dinner table. We’d barely exchanged a glance, certainly not a word, during dinner. He’d spoken to the guests beside him, though their chatter was banal. He said nothing while managing to talk to them. But it was his eyes that gave me the shivers. There was something about him that made me want to step back. Those eyes were watching me now over the rim of his cocktail glass.

  I smiled at Alexavier as we waltzed slowly to a Christmas number. ‘We’re being scrutinised by a man sitting opposite Montpelier.’

  Alexavier waltzed around so that he could see the man. ‘That’s one of the three we’re investigating.’

  ‘He gives me a bad feeling.’

  Alexavier’s eyes flashed interest. ‘Tell me more. What do you sense from him?’

  ‘Coldness. Complete and utter coldness.’

  Alexavier pulled me closer as we danced, the nearest thing to a reassuring hug that he wouldn’t let this man hurt me.

  We waltzed around the dance floor one full circle. It had become quite busy with couples wanting to dance to this wonderful Christmas song. Amid the happy atmosphere I tried to focus on keeping my cover above suspicion.

  As we danced back around to where we’d been, I looked across at the table. The man with the cold eyes had gone.

  Back at the table Alexavier deposited me politely at my seat. ‘Thank you for the dance.’ Then he whispered, ‘Don’t leave Montpelier’s side.’ His blue eyes flashed a warning.

  My heart jolted from the warning, the danger. Danger from these devious men, and from the handsomeness of Alexavier. Dressed in an immaculate black evening suit, white shirt and black tie, he was the epitome of masculine class and good looks. Combined with what he was, as head of the department, it was a combination that I found hard to resist.

  I nodded that I understood the warning, and watched him walk away.

  Was he going after the man who had disappeared? Or would one of the other agents handle that?

  Mr Brown was deep in conversation with the woman sitting next to him. They got up to dance.

  Others at the table were chatting, some got up to dance, and others headed towards the bar.

  Montpelier and I were able to speak in whispers.

  ‘One of our agents has confirmed that information is going to be exchanged here tonight at the party,’ he said, gazing into my eyes as if he was telling me something wonderful.

  I faked a delighted expression. ‘Are they handing over secret documents?’ My mind extended to thoughts of microfilm and such that I’d heard of in films.

  ‘No, unfortunately they’re using word of mouth.’

  I frowned. ‘They’re passing the information on verbally?’

  ‘Yes. It’s one of several methods used in the past.’

  He went on to explain various methods they used.

  ‘The more technology we have, the more our secrets have been compromised. The department and other agencies are often reverting to old fashioned methods to protect our information. Computers can be hacked, information accessed and the data stolen or wiped. But there’s nothing quite so difficult to get at than information on paper, hidden in files, and kept secure within our own walls. If someone wants to access our data, they have to break in and physically steal it, and that’s a lot harder than tapping into a computer.’

  ‘I never thought of that.’ But I could see how it made sense.

  ‘Now we’re combining our methods. Old and new, traditional with technology.’

  ‘And word of mouth?’

  ‘One of the most effective methods. Nothing written down, no documents to hide. Nothing but secrets passed from one person to the other.’

  I glanced around at all the guests. People were dancing, chatting, drinking. ‘Where is the other suspect? Has he been seen tonight?’

  ‘He’s over beside the Christmas tree chatting to a woman and another couple,’ said Montpelier.

  I gave them a cursory look and then focussed on the band playing.

  Montpelier leaned close. ‘Wait here. I’ll be gone for a few minutes.’

  He stood up, kissed me lightly and hurried away.

  His kissed warmed my senses. He was easily one of the most attractive men I’d ever met, but he didn’t quite affect me as Alexavier did. But this wasn’t the time to analyse my attraction to these men. I’d be the fool that Rupert and others assumed I was if I thought about that rather than concentrated on keeping safe and playing my part as Montpelier’s
cover.

  As he disappeared into the crowd, Alexavier’s warning ran through my mind. ‘Don’t leave Montpelier’s side.’

  I hadn’t. He had left mine. I was wondering what to do when a man whispered over my shoulder. ‘Would you like to come with me?’

  I jumped.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,’ the man said. ‘Ladies are being asked to choose a gift from under the Christmas tree. I thought you’d like to come over and select a present. It’s all part of the evening.’

  ‘Are you a member of staff?’ He was wearing an evening suit but didn’t quite have an air of guest about him. In his thirties, quite tall and reasonably good looking with dark hair and a strong build.

  ‘Yes, part of the management. We’re encouraging the ladies to choose a gift and I saw that you weren’t dancing or occupied so I thought I’d entice you over. All the parcels are unmarked so it’s a sort of lucky dip about what you get.’

  ‘All part of the fun?’ I said.

  ‘It is.’

  I followed him over to the tree. No other women were there, though two men were nearby. The gifts were around the tree and it didn’t look as if the display had been disturbed.

  ‘You’re the first to pick your Christmas present,’ the man said.

  I gazed at the beautifully wrapped presents. They looked like something out of a film. I didn’t know which one to choose. They all looked lovely.

  ‘I’ll leave you to decide. Just help yourself. Merry Christmas.’

  And off he went, taking with him any suspicions that I’d had about him.

  I looked around to see if anyone was watching me. I certainly didn’t sense anyone. Nope. Everyone was too busy enjoying themselves.

  The lights from the tree reminded me of Christmases past. So traditional.

  I bent down to study the gifts. Perhaps it was the shopper in me, or I’d succumbed to the sparkling display, but for a moment, just one moment, I forgot about being a secret agent. I lifted up one of the parcels which looked like it could be a handbag. Hmm? I put it back and lifted another. What one would I choose?