Zoe glanced at Alana who had a slight smile that was barely noticeable to anyone around. The woman had backed into the shadows of the crowd, a ghost, blending into the background. But why?
“Icing?” Zoe asked.
“Icing.” She nodded. “The cherry will be the announcement this afternoon at the press conference. The Iraqis just signed the peace agreement.”
Zoe skimmed and copied documents in her office until well past the dinner hour. She was stalling until she could do more exploring. Jason hadn’t explained what had been going on beyond the walls of the sex dungeon, when they both heard the voices coming from another room.
Tonight she would find that room—and hopefully some clues as to what was going on there so late at night while the first lady had been getting her rocks off next door in the sex dungeon. Remembering her director’s warnings about keeping her eyes open, she was determined to uncover any security risk if there was one. She felt a bit uneasy with her plans, but until she knew who to trust, this had to be done.
The files in her hands were old journals from numerous first ladies or their secretaries. They documented dates, times and names of well-known political figures, foreign diplomats, ambassadors, princes, presidents. These women had met with the high-ranking officials for tea or cocktails, dinners or lunches in various rooms in the White House. Acting as hostesses prior to important meetings with the president?
There was so much Zoe didn’t know about entertaining foreign dignitaries. These guests had the power to start or stop a war, murder or save thousands with a nod, or invade another country with the push of a button. How did you serve coffee and dessert to these people with a smile? She locked the files away and shut down her computer.
She hadn’t heard from or seen Jason all day. Should she be surprised? She ground her teeth. The man was true to his old ways. Torment her with sweet, hot sexual attention, then vanish. At ten thirty she put her work away and left her office, since it was unlikely anyone would come downstairs this late at night.
If she figured out who belonged to the voices behind the walls, the rest might make sense. Armed with keys and the ID badge she’d found, she stopped in front of the door adjacent to the sex dungeon. Silence engulfed her. If there were spare offices at this level, she doubted they were being used.
A habit from her old job in counterintelligence was to be hyperaware of her surroundings. One trick she’d learned: If she wanted to hide a secret, put it on the ceiling and to the left. Most people rarely look up and instinctually look to their right first or turn right when entering an unfamiliar place.
If trying to hide a secret message, write it on the ceiling to the left.
Zoe didn’t see anything besides a cracked plaster ceiling, but high above the thick Colonial trim around the door, she did notice an odd drawing. It was approximately eight or ten inches across, a symbol consisting of three interlocking triangles that created a nine-pointed star. A double eagle and a crown were etched in the center of the star. Beneath the eagle was the phrase Deus Meumque Jus. Latin for “God and my right.” It was a Masonic symbol.
Did the Masons have anything to do with choosing the bald eagle as the American symbol? Her father and grandfather were both Freemasons. They had told her brother but never her. Zoe found out by accident after her grandfather died and she’d helped her grandmother go through his personal items. Zoe discovered the lodge manual and her grandfather’s Mason ring. When she confronted her dad, he shrugged it off as being a guy thing. Just like her job as an intelligence agent wasn’t as important, or as dangerous, as Damien’s job. He’d never used those words precisely, but it was clearly implied.
With the set of keys found inside her desk, she tried them one at a time until she found one that fit the lock in the old doorknob. The lock turned, and she entered the dark room.
Chapter Four
Jason’s phone buzzed in his pocket. Meet me in the parking lot in ten. The text message was from Melissa. Now what?
Outside, the night was clear, but with all the security lights in the parking lot, only a few stars were visible. When Jason reached the employee parking lot, Melissa was pacing back and forth, checking her phone and frantically working her thumbs on the keypad.
“What’s up?” he asked. Just because it was eleven p.m. didn’t mean White House staff went home like most nine-to-five workers. At least the people in her vicinity were long gone. Still, only a few cars remained, including Zoe’s ten-year-old hybrid. “She’s still here.”
“No kidding. And you haven’t told her about the FLC.” She glared at him while she finished her text. The air was brisk for an October day and smelled fresh like snow. He liked the snow, since he never saw much of it while growing up in Texas. A breeze blew her long, dark hair about her face. She didn’t seem to notice. “Julia doesn’t want her down there during a presentation until she’s formally a member. We don’t want a Celia repeat. Tell her.”
Jason groaned and rubbed his forehead with the tips of his fingers. He was dreading it and now he hated himself for bringing Zoe into this. He still cared for her, but hadn’t realized how much until now. “She’s not right for the FLC. Not this part. I thought she’d be helping me with surveillance.”
“Are you crazy? It’s too late for that.”
“It’s true she can role play a drug or arms dealer, but she doesn’t know the dominance and submissive lifestyle.”
“We needed someone to replace Celia with top-level clearance,” Melissa said.
The mention of Celia’s name left a sizable hole in his chest. Everyone took Celia’s tragedy hard. Celia had never been right for the FLC. “Isn’t there someone else we can bring in?”
She shook her head. “It’s taken months to plan this. You know what will happen if we fail.”
“You don’t understand. I almost lost her on a mission. I won’t let that happen. I’m not setting her up for something dangerous.”
Melissa placed her hand on Jason’s arm. “I do understand. Zoe’s well trained and won’t do anything stupid. Secret Service and you will make sure she’s safe. But it has to be Zoe.”
He swore under his breath then nodded. “All right, all right.”
Melissa frowned. “I knew we could depend on you.”
The air in the room was cool and smelled damp and slightly moldy, but there was also an odor of incense. Zoe found a light switch and flipped it on. Light flickered from a small, antique chandelier and gave a dim, surreal glow.
The room appeared to be staged like an old office of a hundred years ago. A heavy antique desk stood in the center of the small room with a brocade wingback chair that faced the door. Heavy red brocade drapes covered some of the walls, while others held a few faded canvas pictures. Some were drawings of iconic Washington structures—the Capitol, the Lincoln Memorial and the Washington Monument. Other canvases showed strange symbols. One she recognized. A ruler and compass with a G in the center. The same symbol on rings worn by both her father and grandfather.
Was this room a meeting or meditation room for Masonic study or rituals? Above the door faded painted words—In Hoc Signo Vinces—caught her attention. She’d have to check to see what that meant.
Arranged on the desk were a skull—it looked like a real human skull—a candle and a metal bowl holding a powder of some sort. It reminded her of voodoo, but she knew a little about the Masons, and although their rituals appeared strange and mysterious to some, they were benign. She sniffed the powder. It had a strong, unpleasant odor. Not the woody oil scent she detected when she first entered. Maybe wood polish?
This room creeped her out. Did the president use this room? Past presidents had been Masons. She’d read where the main structures in Washington had been designed by Masons, their cornerstones set in formal ceremonies. What was going on down here? First, a sex dungeon and now a Mason room. What next?
A draft of stale air swirled into the room, and the drapes moved. Behind them, she discovered an opening about two and a ha
lf feet wide. A passageway. The air here was cold and the tunnel completely dark. She thought about running back to her office for a penlight but remembered her cell. It gave off enough illumination to light her way.
She walked for several yards and tried not to think of rats or bats or other creepy things that might live in dark spaces. Maybe this was an old escape route in the event the White House was taken over? It hadn’t been that long ago that the country had been in the midst of the Civil War. The White House could’ve been seized back then.
Far ahead, she thought she saw another door. Then she heard the noise. A scratching or shuffling sound. Oh God. There are rats. She froze and looked down at her feet. Please, no rats.
Then a hand clamped around her mouth. She raised her elbow, about to jam it with enough force to crack ribs, when she heard Jason’s voice.
“Shhh. Don’t scream and don’t kill me.” He chuckled softly as he turned her in his arms and pressed her against the wall with his body.
“Bastard. You scared the crap out of me.”
“Sorry. I couldn’t yell down the tunnel. Voices carry. What the hell are you doing?”
“Gathering intel. Um, exploring,” she said. Neither sounded like a good excuse. “I was trying to figure out where those voices came from last night.”
“You can’t go wandering around in the White House,” he said. Her back was against the wall, and he was facing her, his thigh planted between her legs. God, she was getting turned on.
“I work down here. I’m authorized,” she argued. “Is this an escape tunnel? Has it always been here?” In the light of her cell, his gaze was intense. She couldn’t tell if he was angry or not. Heat radiated through her in so many naughty ways.
He took a breath. “This isn’t your grandmother’s house where you can go off exploring every nook and cranny.”
“I know.” She leaned her head back, tilting it in a defiant pose, and gave him a smirk. “So where does it go?”
A grin twitched at his mouth, and he licked his lips. He had to do that. Her sex tingled as fond memories recalled what that mouth was capable of. “Another part of the basement.” His vague answer pissed her off.
“Guess I’ll have to find out for myself.” She tried pushing past him, but he caught her arm, slammed her against his body and pressed her into the wall. His thigh rubbed on her pussy. Instantly aroused and wet between the legs, she felt his cock harden.
His mouth came down on hers in a rough kiss. Tongues plunged into each other’s mouths, desperately drawing her deeper and deeper, as if all the air had been sucked out of the tunnel and she was gasping for the last few breaths of it.
His arms wrapped around her and pulled her in tighter. His cock pressed into her belly. Large hands moved around her front and kneaded her breasts, then he groaned and yanked her blouse from the waist of her skirt, lifting it high and shoving the bra clear.
His mouth clamped down on one nipple. Groaning, she tried arching her back to meet his mouth, but the confined space wouldn’t allow it. Zoe had an image of two people trying to fuck inside a coffin.
“God, Zoe. What are you doing to me?” He pulled up her skirt and reached for the top of her pantyhose. She heard the rip of material as he shoved his hand down and found her clit. “Damn, you’re soaked. I want to taste you.”
His fingers worked her sensitive flesh until she was on the edge of climaxing. “Jason,” she moaned and gripped his shoulders, moving with the rhythm of his hand. “Yes.”
Then his finger plunged into her channel. And she cried out. “Shhh,” he said as his mouth captured hers and silenced her moans.
The heel of his hand rubbed and stimulated her nub until it was raw and throbbing.
“Oh God, like that.” Her head rested on his shoulder as her body coiled on the edge of the most intense orgasm she’d had in a long time.
Then he froze.
No, don’t stop now.
“Damn, now? They’re early,” he said, pulling his hand out of her ruined pantyhose.
She heard it, too. “Someone’s coming.” She said it in barely a whisper.
“Stay here.” He left her in the darkness. She straightened her clothes, then checked that her phone was on vibrate. She slipped it inside her skirt pocket to douse the light.
A moment later, Jason returned. “We can’t go back, but I know another way.”
This was going to be hard to explain to security later. Jason led Zoe down the narrow passage in the pitch dark. She was amazing, beautiful and irresistible. He couldn’t resist her back then, why should it be different now? For months he’d tried telling himself they were better off apart, she’d be safer not having him as a partner, but the truth was, he wasn’t sure if anyplace was safe. Right now, he needed to concentrate on the matter at hand. The FLC mission and the unauthorized use of this passage. Secret Service had rules to follow, and he was about to break a couple. His gut tightened. He’d have to explain his appearance on the security cameras pointed at this location.
“My purse and car keys are in my office,” Zoe said. “Will I have a chance to go back and get them?”
He had to smile. She was worrying about that now? “Not tonight. I’ll drive you home.”
She groaned. “Crap.”
“What?”
“My keys to my house are with my car keys.”
“Stay at my place tonight. I’ll drive you in early.”
“Can’t. Dexter’s at home.”
He felt a fist punch his shoulder. “Ow.” Good aim in the dark. “What was that for?”
“You planned this,” she snapped.
“How could I have planned this? You’re the one who went snooping. I was doing my job, checking…out the rooms.” He didn’t want to say his job had been to either check that she’d gone or make her leave. “We’ll figure out something.”
“You came down to make sure I left so I wasn’t down here like last night. Right? Was there another sex rendezvous or secret meeting planned?”
“This passage splits into two around this point.” Jason felt along the walls. “We don’t want to make the wrong turn. It’s a maze down here.”
“What else could it be?” She sounded worried. She should be, and that ripped a hole in his chest.
“Just like when we worked at Langley, the details will come when it’s appropriate for you to know. I can’t tell you more for your own protection and the program’s.”
“So there is some program. I suspected that.” She sighed. “I know, I know, details as needed. But we’re not at Langley, and this is different. Something doesn’t sit right with me. I’m worried that the president is in danger. What if there’s a security breach? Remember the Russian double agent?” That agent had worked in their office at Langley for two years before he was discovered. He had a wife and two kids, and his family had had no idea.
Jason stopped and took her into his arms. “Zoe, I can’t tell you right now. The president isn’t in danger. I promise you that. The world is in a very dangerous state right now, more than you know. What’s going on down here is vital for keeping the world from self-destructing.”
“In other words, stay out of it.” She rested her head on his shoulder, and he held her tighter.
“For now. I’ll explain it later.” How could they have brought her into this? Damn it.
“Anything I can do to help?” she asked.
“Right now we need to be quiet. We’ll be hitting a set of stairs soon for the first floor.”
“Where does this come out?”
He groaned. “You really don’t want to know.”
Zoe walked on tiptoes in her business heels up the old wooden stairs behind Jason. The steps creaked. How someone couldn’t hear them coming a mile away, she had no idea.
At the top of the stairs, Jason pulled out his iPhone and turned it on to illuminate the passage. A keypad and key swipe were on the wall next to a panel. No door.
He swiped his card and punched in a six-digit code then
eased the panel open a crack. “Thank God, no one’s in here. Hurry.”
Disoriented, Zoe followed him into the dark room. She looked around. “What is this place?”
“The president’s private study.”
“Oh crap. Maybe we should’ve waited downstairs until that meeting was over.”
“Not a good idea.” He took her hand. “This way before security comes.” There was an odd catch to his voice. Could he be involved in a plot against the president? She didn’t believe that Jason was capable of being a double agent or working with a criminal group.
“Are there other secret panels like this in the White House?”
He didn’t answer.
“Oh, come on. Is there one in the Oval Office?”
He gripped her hand so tight it hurt. “You know nothing of these tunnels and passageways. Do you understand?”
“Yes, and you’re hurting me.”
He swore under his breath as he loosened his grip. “Sorry. There’s a lot going on.”
He’d never been this nervous before as an agent, and they’d worked together on a variety of missions. On one, they did a two-man carry of documents containing underwater-weapon specifications. While they stopped for gas at a Stuckey’s in Kansas, three armed men pulled in and surrounded him while she was in the bathroom. They were after the documents. Jason had no idea how their cover had been blown, but he managed to wound two of them and subdue the third by the time she’d made it back to the parking lot. Kansas state police arrested the men. After proving their identities, Jason and Zoe had given statements and left.
“Let’s go. I’ll take you home.” He unlocked the door and opened it, then took a step back. Three armed guards stood blocking the doorway with stern expressions.
“Hi, guys,” Jason said calmly. “Didn’t mean to alarm you. I suspect we’d set off the motion sensors. Ms. Summers wasn’t aware of the foreign diplomats coming in this evening for a private meeting. When I saw the group coming down the hall a few moments ago, I didn’t want to compromise the delicate negotiations by our presence, so I pulled her into the closest office.”
What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 7) Page 31