Keep My Baby Safe

by Bella Grant

  “GRU? That’s what replaced the KGB?” Dan asked.

  “The GRU is the Russian foreign military intelligence, kind of like our Defense Intelligence Agency. Anyway, they picked him up and squeezed him. He broke. He didn’t have my cover, but using the information he gave them, several of our agents were compromised. One of them was…” She paused and gathered her courage. “One of them was Roger Pateron. He worked assets in St. Petersburg. When they came for him, he tried to escape and was killed. We were...together…when I could slip away and join him.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She nodded as she stared at the floor. “Yeah. Worse, the asset and his entire family simply…disappeared.” She glanced up at him. “That hit me hard. Roger was a good man. I should have known better than to get close to someone, but I was so sure I wouldn’t get caught. And I didn’t, but Roger paid the price for my arrogance. Just like the asset. Just like Derrick and Rich.”

  He sat down beside her. “It wasn’t your fault. If the Russians knew who you were, you probably wouldn’t be here right now.”

  She looked at him. “That’s what everyone keeps telling me, but are you sure? I’m not. I transferred out of field work after that and became an analyst.”

  “The asset, what was his name?”

  She smiled grimly. “That’s the bitch of it. I don’t even know. I didn’t want to know. We only knew each other by our code names, so if something happened, we couldn’t compromise each other. He was Argus, the thousand-eyed monster from Greek mythology, and I was Lamia, the seductive vampiress.” She looked down again, unable to meet his eyes. “Fitting, huh? He was merely a tool for me to use, and I got him and his family killed.” Her face twisted and she gasped. “And now, it’s happened again. You tried to warn me,” she whimpered, “but I ignored you.” She looked at him as tears ran down her cheeks. “If I’d listened, maybe Derrick and Rich would still be alive.”

  His lips thinned and he pulled her to his shoulder. She couldn’t bear the guilt anymore. The guilt of Argus, of Roger, of the other four nameless agents who had been arrested or killed, and now of Derrick and Rich. The guilt was beginning to overwhelm her. She’d gotten his friends—her friends—killed because of her own arrogance, and he offered her comfort. She tried to gather herself and pushed at him. She didn’t deserve comfort, but he held her firm, his hand going to the back of her head and holding her to his shoulder.

  She pushed at him again, and again he resisted and the dam broke. Her arms went around him as she sobbed into his shoulder. He said nothing, but his touch was like a balm on an open wound.

  “You couldn’t have known,” he whispered. “There was no way to know.”

  “You knew,” she gasped, pulling him tight as another wave of wracking sobs rolled over her.

  He said nothing else, simply holding her until her tears subsided. She sat up, sniffed, and wiped at her eyes.

  “You couldn’t have known,” he said again, holding her face and looking into her eyes. “Not with Argus, not with Derrick or Rich.”

  She sniffed again. “Yet somehow, you did.” She watched as his eyes clouded a moment before he focused on her again.

  “I didn’t know. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have given up so easily.”

  “Then what was it?”

  He shook his head. “A feeling, nothing more.”

  She wanted to feel his touch, to have him hold her and make the pain go away, but he was withdrawing again. Despite his words, she knew Derrick and Rich were dead because of her. Everyone she became close to got killed because of her.

  “What are we going to do now?” he asked.

  She swallowed hard. She couldn’t think. “I don’t know.”

  “We need clothes.”

  She nodded, her mind starting to work. The mission. Focus on the mission. “Yes, clothes. We’ll go shopping tomorrow.”

  “Do we have money?”

  “Plenty.” She pulled bills from her back pocket and peeled off a couple dozen thousand Marand notes, pressing them into his hand before returning the rest to her pocket. “That’s about five-thousand dollars. We also need to change our appearance.”

  “What else?”

  He was pushing her past her grief, forcing her to think. “Passports,” she said, pulled three from her pants pocket, flipped them open, and returned one to its place. She handed one to Dan. “Tear that up,” she ordered as she began ripping the pages out of the other.

  He flipped open the Russian passport and looked at it before his eyes returned to hers. He clearly understood what that meant, that she expected to live while one or more of them died. The two passports were duplicates of Dan’s, but with Derrick and Rich’s photo. Once the pages were torn into small bits, she flushed the scraps down the toilet. She could feel the exhaustion overtaking her as the last of the scraps of paper disappeared.

  She looked at him and could feel her loss trying to take her again. “We should get some rest.”

  “Yeah. I’ll take the chair.”

  She could feel the tears threatening. “I’d like you to come to bed with me.”

  He watched her a moment then looked away. “You sleep. I’ll keep watch.”

  She nodded and stepped out of the bathroom before he saw her tears. Despite his words earlier, he blamed her for the loss of his friends.

  She lay down on the bed, still fully clothed, with her back to the bathroom as silent tears crept down her cheeks. When this was over, she was done with field work forever. She would quit the agency before she’d allow another person to be killed because of her mistake.

  She heard a thump and a scrape. She glanced over her shoulder as Dan moved both chairs in front of the door. One he placed with its back against the door, the other he placed facing the first. He sat down and shuffled low, his feet in the other chair forming a makeshift bed. He became still, holding his weapon on his chest.

  Neither said anything as she clicked out the light.

  Sleep was a long time coming as she replayed the events in the bar. She ran it over and over again in her mind. There was nothing. No suspicious bulge in the women’s clutch, no printing of a weapon on their tight dresses. Nothing. They had to have been carrying inside their thighs, right against their crotches, or their clutches had to have been specially constructed to conceal a weapon. So how had Dan known?

  Tears leaked out of her eyes again. Worse, she had been lying in her bed naked, listening to Derrick fucking the woman in the next room while she pleased herself. She’d heard the two soft pops of a silenced weapon and knew immediately what the sound was. She had barely rolled out of bed and was going for her gun when the bitch had burst into her room, the useless door locks giving her quick and easy entrance. She hadn’t had time to reach her weapon and draw it from its holster. She had only one chance, and she’d taken it. She’d gotten inside before the assassin could put a bullet into her and taken her down with her bare hands. Dan was still fully clothed, but he had seen her, and he had to know what she’d been doing as his friends were killed.

  Dan whimpered in the darkness. She rolled over and listened a moment. She couldn’t make out what he was saying, but he was mumbling and occasionally twitching.

  “No,” he cried softly.

  Her lips thinned. He was dreaming about Derrick and Rich, and the guilt washed over her again. He continued to mumble and jerk, and she remembered he had a gun in his hand. If he flinched and his finger was on the trigger, that would draw attention they didn’t need at best, and he could injure or kill himself at worst.

  Her eyes had adjusted to the dimness of the room, so she crept from the bed and crouched beside him. “Dan,” she hissed. He didn’t wake, so she touched him lightly on the shoulder. “Dan!”

  He leapt from the chair, causing her to squeak in surprise as she fell to her ass, his weapon coming up as he searched for targets, his eyes wide and his breath shallow and fast. She didn’t move or make a sound, waiting for him to come out of the dream as the weapon travers
ed the room quickly. There was little doubt that if she stood up, he would shoot her. After a moment, the terror on his face drained away and the weapon lowered. Then he saw her. His weapon popped up and pointed straight at her, then lowered when he recognized her.

  “Jesus! I almost shot you,” he hissed.

  “You were having a nightmare. I was afraid you were going to squeeze the trigger,” she said as she slowly rose. “You okay?”

  He let his breath out slowly. “Yeah.”

  “You were dreaming of Rich and Derrick?”

  He looked at her with that same haunted look she’d seen several times before. “No.”

  His answer surprised her.

  They stood, staring at each other a moment. “I’m okay now,” he said as he returned to his chair, but this time he placed the weapon at his side and removed his hand.

  She continued to watch him a moment, then returned to the bed. She lay in the quiet darkness, replaying the bar in her mind, and wondered what haunted Dan’s dreams if not the death of his friends until sleep finally took her.

  Daniel

  The next morning, Dan followed Tasha around as she collected the things they needed. They started with a car, then made several stops as she collected makeup and wigs, along with a quality pair of scissors. The next stop was for clothes. She outfitted Dan with a collection of high quality suits and casual clothes, along with a matching number for herself.

  When she was ‘working,’ it was as if nothing had happened, but the moment they were alone, she became silent and all the energy seemed to leave her. It was killing him to watch her. During the night, the sickness of losing his friends had turned into a cold rage. It was his fault Rich and Derrick had been killed, and he was going make sure Kangka paid the price. He would snatch the Griffins from his hand, and if he got the chance, he would shove his pistol up Kangka’s ass and pull the trigger until the gun was empty. He would burn in hell before he allowed Rich and Derrick to die for nothing. But he had to have Tasha on her game. She was the key to everything, and he couldn’t do it without her.

  “Hey,” he said, pulling her to a stop by the arm. “You have to snap out of this. I need you, Tasha. I need you to help me track this Kangka asshole down.”

  She looked at him and smiled, but the smile was so sad it pulled at his heart. “I’ll do my job.”

  He watched her eyes, but the fire that had always been there was missing. She was dying inside before his eyes. He looked around, then took her hand and pulled her next to a building for a bit of privacy.

  “I know what you’re going through, but I need you now.”

  “I told you, Dan, Derrick and Rich wasn’t your fault, it was mine. I was your trainer. I’m supposed to be the expert, and I let those two bitches—”

  “Stop,” he said softly. “Like I said, I know exactly how you feel, but you have to stop now. I could have stopped them, but I didn’t. I know you’re hurting. I’m hurting. But we have to make Kangka pay for what he’s done, and that means we must find the Griffins and take them away from him. I can’t do that without you.”

  “I’m not giving up.”

  “I know you’re not. But you’re not you. You’re a shadow of you.” He looked around. This wasn’t the time or place to get into this. “Let’s finish this. We have work to do.”

  She watched his eyes a moment and nodded curtly.

  They finished their shopping and returned to the hotel. There she sat Dan down on the edge of the tub and fitted him with three wigs of different colors, trimming them into a men’s style. As he watched her work, he couldn’t believe how different he looked with each transformation.

  Finished with Dan, she fitted herself with several wigs, adjusting each until she had the look she wanted. While she worked on the last of her wigs, her phone chimed.

  “It appears those televisions were actually incubators, an electron microscope, and a portable refrigeration unit,” she said as she flipped through the information on her phone. She looked up, but she didn’t smile. “I have the address of the shipping company that picked the items up at the dock.”

  “Are we going to pay them a visit tonight?”

  She nodded. “That’s our next step.”

  -oOo-

  “Here it is,” Tasha mumbled around the flashlight she held in her mouth as she pulled a file from a cabinet. She placed the folder on top and looked though the documents. “The items were delivered to Bruanwa Ecotours. What the fuck?”

  “What?” he asked.

  “This makes it look like the Griffins aren’t in Talish at all.”

  “We knew that was a possibility.”

  “Yeah, but this makes no sense. This has to be a red herring.”

  “Why?”

  “We’ll check them out, but if this ecotour thing is legit, how are they going to move the equipment without the paying guests noticing?”

  He shrugged. “Beats me.”

  She put the file back. “Okay, let’s go. We’ll check them out tomorrow.”

  They returned to the hotel, pulling off their wigs as they drove. Dan glanced at Tasha. The last time they scored a piece of information, she’d been on a high, but now she sat silently, her eyes closed and her head against the headrest of the rented Toyota Land Cruiser. He said nothing, unsure how to draw her out of her funk.

  When they reached their hotel, they had a late dinner. They were just finishing, sipping their wine, when Tasha’s phone rang. They looked at each other. She picked it up and looked at it, her eyes telling him everything he needed to know.

  “Hello? Yes, I’m having dinner. Let me call you back in ten minutes.” She hung up. “We need to go.”

  He left money on the table to cover their meal before he escorted her to their room. She was dialing before the door clicked shut.

  “University of Miami. How may I help you?”

  “Lancaster.”

  “Standby.”

  They waited a moment, then a male voice came on the line. “This is Whittlefield.”

  “Lancaster.”

  “Tasha? What the fuck is going on?”

  “What do you mean, sir?”

  “The shit is really hitting the fan. Long and Tesley were found, along with two dead whores. Care to explain that to me?”

  Tasha swallowed hard. “It—” she began before Dan grabbed the phone and pulled it from her hand.

  “That’s correct. Long and Tesley apparently picked them up in the bar.”

  “Who is this?” Whittlefield asked.

  “Thames.”

  Tasha reached for the phone, but he swatted her hand away. “Their cover was blown while uncovering the information Tasha sent you. The two women were obviously sent to kill them. We assume they spotted the four of us having dinner together, so after they killed Long and Tesley, they came after both myself and Tasha. Tasha captured one of the women alive and we questioned her. She confirmed that General Kangka was the one who ordered the hit.”

  “You killed her?”

  “The first woman was killed defending myself. We believe Kangka doesn’t know about Tasha or me, and that’s why only two assassins were sent and they had to improvise. We wanted to keep it that way.”

  There was a long pause. “Shit. Long and Tesley have been identified as U.S. Navy, and that has caused a hell of a shit storm. The U.S. has denied any official involvement and claimed they were there on leave, but Mabasa’s control is slipping. Kangka is stirring the shit by using Long and Tesley for propaganda. If Mabasa’s government falls, we won’t be able to extract you. We’re trying to prop him up—indirectly of course—by denying involvement and promising we have no agents or military in the country, nor will we send any.”

  “You’re hanging us out to dry?”

  “This is a delicate situation that we’re trying to control. Time is running out. If Kangka gets control of the government, all bets are off. I can’t overstress how important it is that you find the Griffins, get them out if you can, kill them if you
can’t, and destroy all the research material—and do so as quickly but as quietly as possible. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes.”

  “You have one of the best field agents to come out of Langley in years with you. Listen to her. I expect this situation to be resolved quickly and quietly.”

  “I understand. Tasha has uncovered what we think is the next link in the chain. We will be investigating that tomorrow.”

  “Very good. Carry on,” Whittlefield said, then was gone.

  She snatched her phone away from him as he pulled it away from his ear. “You lied to him about Derrick and Rich. Why?”

  “How did I lie?”

  “You didn’t tell him about the bar.”

  “Because it doesn’t make any difference. What’s done is done. I didn’t want some asshole seven-thousand miles away trying to micromanage us, and I didn’t want you spouting off a bunch of bullshit about how it was all your fault.”

  “It was my fault.”

  “No, it wasn’t. If you get right down to it, it was Derrick and Rich’s fault. They couldn’t keep their cock in their pants. I should have put a stop to it months ago when we were training. I should have stopped them in the bar. They blew their cover. How the fuck did they not see the guns? They fucked up, not you, and now they’ve paid for it.”

  “I could have warned them.”

  “I did warn Rich, and it pissed him off, remember?” They glared at each other a moment. “The important thing now is to make their death meaningful. They paid for the information that got us started with their lives. Let’s make that count for something.”

  -oOo-

  “We offer three tour packages, one-day, two-day, and five-day,” the man at Bruanwa Ecotours said with a smile. “All our packages are all inclusive. We provide everything but the memories.”