by Rachel Lee
“That about sums it up,” Trace said, giving her a squeeze. “If anything happens to me, it’ll be blamed on something that has nothing to do with the agency. I’m on pain meds and far enough away that I could get myself into all kinds of trouble, like a car accident. An overdose. I’m not at my best right now. Plus I don’t know the lay of the land out here. My ducks, instead of being in a row under my control, are scattered all over the place and very much not under my control.”
She nodded, but inside a full head of steamy anger was building. They’d picked Trace because he’d been in the right general vicinity when the bad stuff happened, and now, being disabled...well, it all fit the way he said it had.
Trace and Ryker were no longer the only ones who wanted to get this scum. “I will never understand people who can do things like this.”
“I hope you never will,” Trace said quietly. He ran his hand along her arm. “Okay, we need some kind of operational plan. I think the first thing is to find out who could be so freaking important in Eastern Europe that someone’s willing to cooperate in letting him kill me, so important that someone’s afraid for his own butt if he gets revealed.”
“There couldn’t be very many of them,” Ryker answered. “Yeah, we protect our assets, but to this degree? This is someone special. It shouldn’t be hard to suss out a few of them, the ones we can’t afford to lose.”
“That’s my thinking. So tomorrow we build a new tunnel and get inside.”
Julie had an idea and wondered if she should mention it. Then she decided to go ahead with it because she couldn’t possibly be any more in the woods than she was now, and both these men knew she had no experience. “I suggest,” she said, “that we sign me up for VPN right now. Through that proxy thingy Ryker used earlier. If the account doesn’t get closed overnight, we’ll know something.”
Trace looked at her. “That’s an excellent idea. And if it disappears, we’ll also have an idea how closely this guy is sitting on us.”
“Or maybe,” Ryker said, “we should just tunnel in right now. We’re still protected by the storm for another day.”
Trace lowered his head, thinking about it. Absently he continued to stroke Julie’s arm. Contradictory waves of pleasure and apprehension ran through her. She didn’t want to leave Trace’s embrace, but she wondered how much longer she could hold still.
“First,” he said, “we should look at links, at the tree. Not even try to access files. Just see who’s connected to whom. The chain. Then we look for where the ends of the chains are.”
“Maybe I could have more than one VPN account,” Julie offered. “On different services. Then we could come at it from different angles, yes?”
Trace turned his head, and the smile he gave her nearly took her breath away. “She’s good at this, Ryker.”
“Yeah, it’s scaring me. God knows what she’ll teach Marisa.”
The bubble of tension popped briefly, and Julie was able to smile. Just a kindergarten teacher? Hah. How about a woman with a brain? Yeah.
Trace glanced at his watch, a basic affair that wouldn’t catch anyone’s eye. “We’re seven or eight hours behind Germany and Serbia right now. Give it another hour or so for the world to start waking up over there, so our internet traffic gets lost in the flood as people start their days. Then we’ll set up one service.”
“Only one?” Julie asked. She’d liked her idea of two.
“Only one, at first. Then we’ll see if anything happens if you try to set up another one.”
Her heart lurched. “You want to make sure they aren’t watching me, too.”
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “But yes. If you set up a VPN and then another couple of hours later set up another without any problem, we’ll know they haven’t homed in on you.”
It made sense. It also made her queasy again. Where was that backbone she was so proud of? Of course, never before had lives been hanging in the balance. Never before had death been peeking over her shoulder.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ve got some cinnamon rolls I baked before Ryker arrived. Anyone hungry?”
They were. She wasn’t.
* * *
A pan of cinnamon rolls and two bowls of microwave popcorn later, it was finally time. During the hour or so, they’d chatted casually about Ryker’s baby, about her school and teaching. Oh so casual, Julie thought, when she could tell both men’s minds were multitasking and thinking about the problem they faced. Ryker said only one thing of true significance.
“Don’t go sniffing around anything to do with Johnny Hayes.”
Trace’s eyes narrowed, and Julie felt her heart skip a couple of beats. Marisa’s late husband?
“Why not?” Trace asked.
“Because Bill warned me that I made them nervous as a cat on a hot stove when I tried to get past the wall. They stuck to the official story, and finally I let it go. If there was anything hinky about it, you can be sure it’s been buried even deeper. Don’t waste your time. You won’t have much of it.”
Trace turned to Julie. “Once I start snooping, there’s a possibility that security will shut me down fast. Every second is going to count.”
She nodded, wondering why her mouth was so dry. “It’s okay. Some things are better left alone.”
“No kidding,” said Ryker drily. “Anyway, it won’t be safe for any of us if we snoop in that area. I rang all those alarms before. That alone could get them to hook me to you.”
And if they hooked Ryker to Trace, they could connect Marisa with all of this. Julie was prepared to walk over hot coals to prevent that. She stood. “Let me do the typing. I’m faster than either of you. Just write down any web addresses you want me to access, then tell me what to do.”
She sat at her computer and rebooted it, navigating through the blue screen that warned her the machine hadn’t shut down normally before. No kidding, she thought sourly. And it might not do so again.
Trace handed her a slip of paper on which he’d written some web addresses. As her computer rebooted, she scanned them.
“That first one is a high-anonymity proxy server,” he said. “It’s the first layer of protection and it changes your IP address. It won’t, however, encrypt anything. That way, when you go from there, no one can trace back to you unless they’re really looking. The next two are the VPN providers, which give a much higher level of security and encrypt all information. Just use one of them on this trip. You’ll have to download software, though.”
“If I’m spending money,” she said, “I’m glad to know I’ll get a download for it.”
Trace laughed quietly and laid his hand on her shoulder, causing her to feel a pleasurable shock. “I’ll pay you back as soon as I can.”
“Do I look worried? I was just being sarcastic.” She turned her head until she could meet his gaze. “I’m also nervous. Don’t mind me. I pop off at the mouth a lot when I’m uneasy.”
“Pop away.”
She called up her web browser. Then she typed in the proxy address and a second later she was at a screen asking her the URL of the site she wanted to go to. “Any preference, guys?”
“Either one.”
A few moments later, she said, “Um, fellas? I don’t read whatever language this is.” The site clearly wanted information from her, but it wasn’t asking in English.
Trace leaned closer and pointed. “Click on this for a thirty-day subscription. Then, down here, type in your credit card information.”
Well, that was easy enough. So was downloading the software. As soon as it was installed, Trace showed her how to use it. “Pick a country.”
“Any country?”
He laughed again. “Where do you want to be coming from?”
“Any place I can read.”
That caused both men to laugh. “You don’t have to go anywhere
at all,” Trace said. “Right now we’re just going to make sure they don’t shut you down, remember?”
“Right.” She’d forgotten that part. “Should I wait to do the other one? You said an hour, right?”
Trace hesitated. “Part of me thinks you should be perfectly safe. You’re behind a proxy server. You went to a VPN company that won’t record any information about you except the card to bill. The only thing that could flag you is that you’ll have an international charge on your credit card, and those take days to show up.”
She bit her lip. “Trace, I only have international charges when I’m traveling. Is that enough to be suspicious?”
“Your credit card company might call you to see if you authorized the charge, but it’s so small they probably won’t.”
“I’ve never had to be this suspicious before,” she admitted. “It feels weird.” Especially the butterflies in her stomach that now refused to settle at all.
“I’m so sorry,” he said quietly. “I never meant to bring this stuff into anyone else’s life.”
She shook her head quickly. “I seem to remember volunteering. It just feels weird. I mean...my apartment is now spy central!”
Then without another word she faced her computer, selected the United States and chose the city of San Francisco. “Okay, I’m signing up for the other one. I’m behind this wall, right? Then nobody should catch it because nobody’s watching my credit card, right? In fact,” she continued, pushing back from the desk, “I’m going to get my other credit card. Then nobody at all will flag me for having purchased a duplicate service.”
“God,” said Trace as she went to get her wallet.
“What?” she asked.
“I’m changing you.”
She put on a smile. “Only temporarily.” But she didn’t fail to notice the way he continued to frown at her, as if he was disturbed.
Well, this whole thing was disturbing. Stuff like this didn’t happen in her life. Even with all her adventures, she’d never felt like this before. But even as she was evaluating the way all this was affecting her, she had to face the fact that it was Trace’s way of life. What changes had it wrought in him over so many years?
From missionaries’ son to spy? The transition was almost breathtaking in its scope.
She experienced no problem in purchasing the second service. The software download and installation went smoothly.
“Now hit the kill button.” He pointed.
“Why?” she asked even as she did it.
“It’s going to take you off the internet until we tell it otherwise.”
She swiveled around and looked at the two men. “Okay. I guess we wait and see if both my accounts remain active.”
“That’s it for now,” Ryker said, rising. “Can I use your phone? I need to call my ride.”
Fifteen minutes later, he stepped out her door, leaving her and Trace alone.
* * *
Far away, the clerk couldn’t sleep. Rising finally, he decided to take his husky for a walk to the all-night coffee shop that allowed dogs inside, and get one of their creamy hot chocolates to bring home with him.
He didn’t like that general, and he didn’t like the way he was being put in the middle of something that he sensed could turn into a very big bomb. Even his immediate superior didn’t seem to know what was going on.
And while secrecy was part of life in the agency, this time it felt wrong to him. Very wrong. As if with just one piece of information the entire picture would change.
His dog, Chinook, was delighted by the unexpected late-night walk along quiet streets. Everything must smell different to him, the clerk thought. Scents must be clearer, less muddied. The husky pranced with a graceful stride and paused often to sniff at shrubs that poked out between the iron bars of fences that enclosed the yards. At corners, he found even more of interest, and the clerk often thought it was as if Chinook were reading email from other dogs. The husky probably had a better idea of what was happening in this neighborhood than any of the humans did.
Cheered by the thought, he stepped into the coffee bar and placed his order, adding a slice of banana bread for himself and a bagel for Chinook. As he sat waiting to be called, an older man brushed by his table and suddenly coffee spilled.
“Oh, I am so sorry,” the man said, immediately pulling napkins from the dispenser and throwing them on the spill. “Did I get any on you?”
“I doubt it,” the clerk answered, as he too started cleaning the spill. Not that it mattered; he wore old clothes he didn’t care about. Chinook watched with an interested gaze.
Then the clerk looked up. Recognition niggled at him. “Do I know you?” he asked the older man with thinning hair.
“You’ve seen me around, I’m sure. I know I’ve seen you.”
The café seemed to grow still. The clerk froze, and a quiet whimper escaped his dog in response to the sudden tension.
The man finished wiping up his spill, then smiled at the clerk. “That’s a beautiful dog. What they haven’t told you is that the target is one of our own operatives.”
Then the man walked out of the shop, leaving the clerk in shock so profound he couldn’t move. All he wanted to do was vomit.
Chapter 10
Trace studied Julie as she sat staring at the screen saver on her computer. Remembering the woman he had first met, he felt just awful. Right now her shoulders seemed a little slumped and she was so silent it didn’t feel right. Not that she constantly chattered, but rarely was she this still, as if she’d crossed a bridge too far tonight.
It was all his fault and too late now to fix it. He’d wandered into this town, basically blind to the real danger he was in, thinking of looking up an old friend. After all, they’d told him they weren’t sure anyone was after him. He certainly hadn’t suspected his own people were involved in hunting him down.
But regardless of what he had known or not, it remained that he’d allowed apparent voices of reason to persuade him to stay, that everyone would be safer if he did. He didn’t question Ryker’s motives, or the sheriff’s. They had made a lot of sense.
But Julie in the middle of this made no sense at all. Ryker had honestly thought that if they told Julie this was dangerous, she’d just back off. It turned out the sheriff had known her far better, as he’d said. Julie wouldn’t take no for an answer.
Now here she was, in it up to her neck. Tonight had given her an education on the seamier side of the world. She looked as if she had been sideswiped.
He could never restore to her what she had lost since meeting him. Somehow she needed to knit it into her world and make peace with it. Life was like that sometimes. He just wished he hadn’t been the one to bring the changes.
The phone rang unexpectedly, and he saw her jump. God, he’d made her react that way. A phone call could make her leap out of her skin. Of all the things he’d done in his life of which he wasn’t very proud, this ranked near the very top on his list of shame.
She hesitated visibly before answering. No sooner had she said hello than she turned to hand him the phone. She looked pale. “Ryker.”
Of course it was Ryker. What now? He doubted there’d be much useful.
“Yo,” he said into the phone.
Ryker’s voice answered him. “A friend called. He apparently made a contact with someone very low level that he thinks is involved. He’s hoping the guy will want a way out. He’s going to make himself available to the contact tomorrow.”
“So should I hold off?”
“Your decision. My thinking is, you don’t want all of your eggs in one basket.”
“I read you.” He passed the receiver back to Julie, who replaced it in the cradle.
“I suppose that wasn’t good news?” she asked quietly.
“Maybe, mayb
e not. We’ll see how it pans out tomorrow.”
“Okay.” She turned back to her screen.
Trace hadn’t known Julie for long, but she didn’t strike him as the type to pull into her shell. He wouldn’t have thought she had one at all. Disturbed, he rose and went to stand behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders.
She astonished him. “Don’t touch me unless you mean it.”
He dropped his hands immediately, wondering how to interpret that. He’d thought his situation, the danger she was in, was eating at her. Was it something else? “Julie?”
She didn’t look at him, but continued to stare at the screen saver making its endless ribbons of color. “I can’t figure you, Trace. You slip your arm around me, you hug me, and then you back away as if I smell bad. You’re really good at creating distances, aren’t you? Well, just keep your distance. You live in some kind of bubble. I haven’t seen you anywhere else, but you turned to Ryker, and I gather you don’t know him all that well, either. So, do you ever let anyone close?”
Ouch. That question hurt, because even as she asked it, he realized it was true. Painfully true. In his world, connections and relationships could be dangerous to everyone involved. They needed to be controlled, kept superficial, ready to discard if the need arose. The less he cared personally or allowed others to care about him, the safer they were, the safer he was.
He gave no one a lever to use against him.
He perched on the end of the couch and studied her profile. “What is it you want of me?” he asked quietly.
“Apparently something you’re incapable of giving.”
“Which is?”
“Just about anything real aside from your job.”
“Meaning?”
Now she turned to face him. “You’re using me. I agreed to be used because of Marisa. But somewhere in the last two days I started caring about what might happen to you. Maddening as you can be, much as you’re the chameleon you claim, I still care what happens to you. I get that you don’t care about me, except that I not become collateral damage, but that’s all you care about. I’m willing to be used to protect you and my friends, but that doesn’t mean I have to like the way you shut me out.”