Deep Cover

by Traci Hunter Abramson

  “The director called me in,” Kelsey said, the words sounding surreal even to her. “It seems the situation with Salman may be more time critical than we first thought.”

  “I know we can use your help,” Graham said. “How’s the leg?”

  “Fine.” Kelsey deliberately kept her eyes on his, refusing to let him see that her scars might be more than skin deep. When she was standing still, she could almost pretend that nothing was wrong, unless she remembered the cane in her hand. “Have you had any luck figuring out who blew Gregory’s cover?”

  He waved at a stack of files on his desk. “Those are the background files for the people who knew about Bealton but weren’t in the loop about you.”

  Kelsey shifted her weight to ease the pressure on her bad leg. “I would have thought you would concentrate on the ones who knew about both of us. For all we know, my identity was compromised too.”

  “You were shot. You weren’t killed.”

  Kelsey swallowed hard. Graham’s words were so simple and basic, yet she couldn’t see the experience that way. She tried to focus on the here and now, tried to remember that she was safely in the United States and that her body was healing.

  Graham continued bluntly. “If Salman or any of his men knew you were CIA, there’s no way you would still be alive.”

  A chill ran through her. That same logic had circled through her mind for the past month, but then she would remember the darkness in Salman’s eyes when he aimed his gun at her and fired a single shot. She blinked quickly, trying to push the memories far back into her mind. “Then these are the most likely suspects if we really do have a leak.”

  “Kelsey, don’t kid yourself. Someone did leak Bealton’s identity. What we don’t know is if it was deliberate or inadvertent,” Graham told her. “I need you to figure out who it was and how and why they shared the information.”

  She fought back the panic bubbling inside her. “I have another two weeks before I’m supposed to report back.”

  “This is time sensitive. We don’t have two weeks to wait.”

  “Graham, I’m not sure I’m ready to be involved with this yet. I need more time.”

  His voice held understanding, but still, he spoke words she didn’t want to hear. “I wouldn’t ask if we had other options, but our analysts have been looking for weeks and haven’t been able to filter this out. We need someone who knows the players. That’s you.”

  Resigned, she sighed. “Where do you want me to start?”

  “For today, familiarize yourself with the files of our suspects.” Graham stood up and handed her a two-inch–thick stack of files. “Until you’re cleared to go back into the field, you need to start thinking like an analyst again.”

  “It’s been awhile since I’ve done this kind of work.”

  He cocked his head and gestured at the papers now in her hand. “You may not have been sitting at a desk here at headquarters, but we’ve seen from your work overseas that you still know how to interpret data.”

  “We’ll find out soon enough if that’s true,” Kelsey muttered. She glanced down at the top file and read the name: James Duckett, the man who five years ago had broken her heart. “James? Doesn’t he still work in one of our local offices?”

  Graham nodded. “How do you know him?”

  “We started with the Agency together.” Kelsey shrugged. “I think we can cross him off the list since he clearly knows I’m CIA.”

  “That doesn’t mean he knew you were in Abolstan. You were living under an alias, one he didn’t have access to,” Graham told her. “I know he did one tour with security, so he would have had access to your headquarters cover, but he wouldn’t have had knowledge of your deep-cover assignment.”

  Kelsey considered his logic and was forced to agree with it. James only knew her as Kelsey Weber. If he had taken the trouble to look her up while working in security, he might also know she was Kelly Park, but he wouldn’t have any reason to connect her to the name Taja Al-Kazaz. She shifted the files in her arms and asked, “Where do you want me to work? Do you have an office for me?”

  “Yeah. You can have Cindy’s old office, the second cubicle down on the left. The IT guys already set up your computer access. Just give them a call, let them know you’re already here, and they’ll send someone down to give you your passwords.”

  “Thanks.”

  She planted her cane and took a step toward the door before Graham added, “And, Kels, try not to overdo it.”

  “I don’t think the director is really worried about me overdoing it.” Kelsey ran a hand along her left thigh. “Besides, I want to know how this happened too. I need to know why Gregory was killed.”

  She headed toward the open bay of offices, a flush of embarrassment coloring her cheeks each time someone looked up and noticed her passing by. Inevitably, her new coworkers’ gazes focused on her cane rather than her. As soon as she found her desk, she set the stack of files on the empty surface, lowered herself into the standard-variety office chair, and started reading.

  Chapter 7

  Kelsey walked down the sidewalk past the Martinezes’ house and turned up Noah’s driveway. The Hankerson family, with their two small children and their very large Doberman, had lived there when she graduated from high school. With her cane gripped tightly in her hand, she made her way up onto the front porch one careful step at a time. Two Adirondack chairs were positioned to her right, and Kelsey tried to remember the last time she had seen this porch without a half dozen toys littering it.

  She rang the doorbell and shifted her weight onto her good leg. When Noah pulled the door open, Kelsey could hear the basketball game playing in the background. Noah had already changed his clothes after work and was now dressed casually in a pair of Levis and a slate-blue T-shirt. He offered her a smile, but she noticed it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

  “Come on in.” He stepped aside and waited for her to pass through the door before closing it behind her.

  Kelsey looked up at him in an attempt to gauge his mood, but he simply turned toward the back of the house and motioned for her to follow. She did so slowly, taking time to absorb her surroundings. She glanced into what had once been the Hankerson kids’ playroom to see it empty except for an upright piano pushed against the wall beside the marble fireplace. To her right, an oval table in deep cherry dominated the modest-sized dining room, a silk floral arrangement situated in the center.

  She wasn’t sure what she had expected to find inside his house. After all, Noah was a bit of an anomaly just by living in this neighborhood. Not many single guys chose to live alone in a four-bedroom colonial in the suburbs. Still, the little decorating touches surprised her.

  A print of the Seattle temple hung in the entryway, along with a cross-stitch that read simply With God, all things are possible. She leaned closer, pretty sure she recognized her mother’s handiwork. With a shake of her head, she followed him farther inside and noticed some framed photographs in the hall. She stopped and took a closer look when she realized that several of the snapshots included her older brothers. Noting the football in her brother Justin’s hand, she asked, “Was that from last Thanksgiving?”

  “Actually, I think it was Christmas.”

  Kelsey nodded absently as she continued after him into the brightly lit kitchen. He had something simmering on the stove and a flank steak marinating in a shallow dish atop the granite countertop. He had placed a bowl of fruit in the center of the small island, the glossy green apples looking almost too perfect to be real.

  The sound of the television again drew her attention to the family room, where a flatscreen TV hung on the far wall, a couch and a love seat angled toward it for easy viewing. The script across the bottom of the television screen told her that George Mason was playing Kansas in the opening round of the NCAA tournament and that Kansas was winning.

  “Who do you want to win?”

  His shoulders lifted. “I don’t really care. My team lost yesterday.”

>   “What team was that?”

  “Washington.”

  “Is that where you’re from? Washington?”

  He nodded. “I grew up outside of Seattle.”

  “How did you end up in the FBI?”

  “You know the movie The Fugitive?”

  “Yeah. With Harrison Ford and Tommy Lee Jones.”

  Noah gave her a look of approval. “Ever since I saw it, I’ve wanted to do this.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” She looked at him suspiciously. “The FBI wasn’t even in that movie. Tommy Lee Jones played a US Marshal.”

  “Yeah, but it got me thinking about law enforcement. I liked the idea that I could make a difference.”

  Kelsey’s eyebrows lifted. “I have a hard time believing that you chose your career based on something straight out of Hollywood.”

  “I guess you could say I was inspired.” He shot her an easy grin. “At least I decided to side with the good guys.”

  “That’s true.” A smile tugged at her lips. “Can I help with anything?”

  “Not right now.” He picked up the steak and took a step toward the french doors that led onto the deck. “I’m going to put the steak on. Make yourself comfortable.”

  Kelsey wandered into the living room. She lowered herself onto the plush love seat, finding that getting comfortable wouldn’t be a problem. Her eyes swept the room, and she noticed the afghan draped over the back of the couch. She stared at it for a moment, certain now that her mother had made the cross-stitch and that blanket for him. Kelsey currently had an identical blanket folded at the foot of her bed.

  Kelsey studied the room more closely now, from the pictures on the wall to the bookshelf that held an assortment of books and DVDs. A tile coaster rested on the end table, stamped with a picture of the Washington D.C. Temple. Another example of a craft her mother was known for.

  Kelsey knew her mother was generous with her time and energy, but how was it that so many of her personal touches were in this man’s home? And how had this man become so much a part of her family members’ lives without her ever even hearing about him?

  According to him, and as evidenced by the photographs on the wall, he attended most of her family’s gatherings, gatherings she should have been at but never had been. Regret and a touch of jealousy surfaced when she considered the memories she had missed out on and that Noah had obviously shared with her family.

  When she started with the CIA, she hadn’t anticipated having to sacrifice so much of her private life in order to do her job well. But of course, it was more than just a job.

  Though she knew she never would have applied for the CIA if it hadn’t been for James’s urging, her sense of patriotism had ultimately been what pushed her to accept the job the agency had offered her right out of college. At the time, she hadn’t considered that she might be asked to burrow so deeply into a life that wasn’t compatible with her own.

  Her language skills had elevated her importance in the Agency and had made her one of a select few whose cover ran so deep that her true identity was protected at the highest security level. A single comment or inadvertent disclosure could be fatal, not only to her and the people she worked with but also to her family. For years, she had lived on the front lines of the war on terrorism.

  The back door opened, and Kelsey shifted to see Noah walk back into the room. Surely he would understand the battle she was fighting. He was fighting it too, even though she couldn’t tell him they played on the same team.

  Her superiors at the CIA would never let her share her role in the intelligence community with someone who didn’t need to know, but at least she could be grateful that the turf wars that had been waging between the two agencies had finally ceased. Both sides were still cautious of the other, especially when their investigations overlapped, but after living so deeply undercover around people whose primary objectives were to hurt Americans, she appreciated the agencies’ improved willingness to share information.

  She just hoped the flow of information was running both ways right now. From what she had been able to piece together of Salman’s business, he was planning something in the United States, which would fall under the FBI’s jurisdiction. She had hoped to identify the missing link between his operation in Abolstan and those working for him here, but she hadn’t managed to make the connection.

  Living in his household had been difficult. As a woman, she had faced so many constraints. The CIA would have preferred to insert a man solidly within Salman’s organization, but after several failed attempts, they were willing to settle for any information they could get. Gregory Bealton had been successful up to a point, staying on the fringes of Salman’s terrorist activities. Yet somehow he had been discovered, and Kelsey still couldn’t understand how.

  Noah’s voice broke into her thoughts. “It’s really nice outside. Did you want to eat out on the deck?”

  “That sounds great.” Kelsey used her cane to help her stand. “Want some help?”

  He glanced around the kitchen and then gestured at the refrigerator. “Actually, if you could grab the salad out of the fridge, that would be great.”

  “Sure.” She smiled, appreciating the fact that he didn’t treat her like a cripple, apparently able to see beyond her cane. She crossed to the kitchen and pulled open the refrigerator door. Her eyebrows drew together at the contents. There weren’t any old pizza boxes or leftovers covered in mold as she might have expected from a bachelor with a demanding work schedule. Instead, the inside looked surprisingly normal. Fresh vegetables in the crisper, cheese and lunchmeats in their corresponding drawers. Condiments stored haphazardly in the door, along with three different types of salad dressing.

  The remains of a rotisserie chicken occupied the top shelf next to the milk and a carton of orange juice. Beneath it, a garden salad sat tucked between a carton of yogurt and a dozen eggs. Kelsey slid the salad bowl out of the refrigerator, shifting it so she could carry it one-handed. She took it outside and set it on the patio table. Like the table in the dining room, it was surrounded by six chairs and was large enough to squeeze a few more people around it if necessary.

  “Thanks for bringing that out,” Noah said when he followed her outside and began setting the table, complete with place mats and cloth napkins.

  “No problem,” Kelsey told him. “What kind of salad dressing did you want?”

  “Bleu cheese. There are a couple of others in there if you want something else.”

  Kelsey turned to go back inside, but her cane caught on one of the chair legs, and she pitched forward. Before she could right herself, Noah reached out and caught her by the elbow. He gestured at her cane. “Maybe you should just sit down and let me get everything else.”

  “I’m fine. Really.”

  “I’m sure you are, but there isn’t much more I need to bring outside,” Noah assured her. “What would you like to drink?”

  Though she felt awkward letting him wait on her, she forced herself to take the seat that he pulled out for her. “A glass of water would be great.”

  He took the time to make sure she was settled in her chair before disappearing back inside. After bringing out their drinks, he opened the grill to check on the steak. Smoke billowed into the air, bringing with it a mouthwatering aroma. “It should be ready in a few more minutes.”

  “It smells great.” She looked around the backyard, smiling when she noticed the flowering dogwood tree near the back fence. “You know, I can’t remember the last time I was able to just sit outside and enjoy the weather.”

  “I gather you were usually chasing kids around wherever you went.”

  “Something like that.” She leaned back in her chair. “Thank you for inviting me over.”

  His eyes met hers, and slowly, he smiled. “Thank you for coming.”

  Chapter 8

  Kelsey was still thinking about her dinner with Noah when she woke early on Saturday morning. Diligently, she went through her exercises before heading for th
e shower. The deep pain from her wound was always present, but she didn’t let herself think of that today. Instead, she let her thoughts linger on the night before.

  She had expected to feel awkward with Noah, knowing she would be in a social setting for an entire evening, something she hadn’t experienced in years. Instead, Noah had put her at ease with his simple hospitality and casual conversation. They had shared stories about her family, finding common ground in the people they both cared about.

  After eating dinner, Kelsey had insisted on helping with the dishes. Then they had moved into the family room, where they watched basketball and chatted some more. When she had noticed it was already eleven o’clock, she was surprised that their time together had flown by.

  Noah had insisted on walking her home, but he had acted more like one of her brothers than a guy out on a date. In fact, she had been a bit disappointed when he hadn’t made any mention of when he might see her again. Still, he had been a perfect gentleman, waiting on her front walk while she unlocked her door and made her way inside.

  After Kelsey showered and dressed for the day, she unplugged the cell phone she had purchased the day before and stuck it in her pocket. Then she tucked her waistband holster into the back of her jeans. Before she could retrieve her gun, she heard the front door open.

  Her heartbeat quickened, and she scooped her gun out from beneath her pillow. Surely it wasn’t Noah this time. He would have told her if he had a reason to come over. And he would ring the doorbell rather than let himself in. Now somewhat proficient at using her cane while holding a weapon, Kelsey quietly padded across the carpet to the top of the stairs.

  She heard footsteps in the front hall, followed by the door slamming. She swung her weapon toward the sound, aiming down the stairwell toward the man standing just inside the front door, a pair of sunglasses and a baseball cap hiding his face. “Hold it right there!”