Operation Owl (Beyond Fairytales)

by Tara Quan

  “You sure took your time.” Maya’s voice drifted from his left.

  Thinking for a moment he’d hallucinated, he continued forward.

  “The door is locked. They’re closed.” Her smug, chirpy voice continued to nag. “The lights you see are for the cleaning crew. You do realize these people work for the United States government?”

  He froze in his tracks. Swallowing, he twisted his neck to the left. His eyes confirmed what his brain refused to believe. There she stood, leaning against a streetlight with a magazine in her grasp. She lifted her free hand and crooked her index finger. “This isn’t the most romantic spot to have this chat, but since we’re here—”

  It took him three steps to get to her side. “What the hell are you doing?”

  She rolled up the magazine and clenched her fingers around it, her knuckles turning white from the tight grip. Her tone remained light and casual—dangerously so. “Waiting for you. Did you take the wrong train or something? I’ve been waiting here for ages. I had to pop into the convenience store for reading material.”

  He grabbed her upper arm. “You can’t be standing in front of the damn FBI building—”

  She flicked her wrist and swatted his hand, the hollow paper cylinder making a loud crack.

  “Ow….” It hadn’t hurt, but he was beginning to realize he needed all the sympathy he could get.

  She crossed her arms. “Please explain to me what you planned on doing at the Hoover building at nine at night—”

  “I—”

  “—after lying to me and swearing, on your honor,” her voice turned high pitched, “that you were heading back to Georgetown.”

  He placed his index finger over her lips. “Shh. We’re in front of the—”

  She grabbed his T-shirt collar and yanked him down so their faces were level. “Do I look like I give a fuck?”

  Since this was the first time he’d heard her use an expletive in the past twenty-four hours, he suspected her volume might get even louder. He dropped both hands to his sides. “Any chance I can convince you to use your inside voice?”

  “We’re outside,” she argued. Nonetheless, the request shaved off a few decibels. Still holding his shirt, she pointed the end of the magazine at his throat like a sword. “Explain your thought process, and choose your words very carefully.”

  He raised his hands in the universal gesture of surrender. “I was going to make a deal. My confession and cooperation, in exchange for full immunity for you.”

  “You confessed on camera. What idiot prosecutor would take that deal after the Herald goes on sale tomorrow morning?”

  He swallowed. “That’s sort of why I decided to show up now.”

  “When they’re closed?”

  “Well, I didn’t know that,” he snapped back. “Besides, I’m sure someone is working overtime.”

  “We’re going through sequestration. No one’s approved any.” Her eyes narrowed as she slid the magazine’s edge over his throat. “Besides, the US Attorney’s office makes those sort of deals, not the FBI. And no one there is going to come in this late.”

  He placed his hands on his hips. “You watch way too much Law and Order, do you know that? Fine, I may not have thought this through very well.”

  “That’s the understatement of the century.”

  “But I,” he gritted out, “am trying to do what’s best for you.”

  With a saccharine-sweet smile, she lifted her makeshift weapon and smacked him on the forehead, before letting him go.

  “I’m going to repeat a statement I made to my parents when I was thirteen.” She took a step forward. “While I very much appreciate your efforts.” She jabbed the magazine into his chest. “You do not get to decide what’s best for me.” Her last words sounded pretty darn close to a screech.

  With her face directly under the light, he couldn’t help but notice her eyes shone a little too bright. He reached for her, only to have her slap his hand to the side.

  Her chest heaved. “Do you have any idea how worried I was in that taxi?” Her lower lip quivered, her nose turning red. “Even though I knew I’d beat you here, even though a kindergartener can figure out that a three-minute cab ride is five times faster than the Metro, I kept imagining you getting to the FBI first and wondering why I was bothering to teach you a lesson.” One small fist landed on his chest, followed by the one holding the magazine. She repeated the weak pounding motion as more words and tears spilled out. “You have no clue how annoying it is to be irrational, how aggravating it is to not be able to think straight, and how confusing it is to fall for an idiotic, pigheaded, patronizing ass with a hero complex.”

  Feeling like scum as liquid leaked from the corners of her eyes, he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed tight. Hot tears soaked through his T-shirt as her shoulders shook, her muted sobs turning his stomach and making it difficult to swallow. Unable to do anything else, he smoothed his palms over her back, gently rocking as she silently wept.

  When she lifted her face to look at him, he wiped her drenched cheek with his thumb. Seeing her this way made him feel physically ill. “Please stop crying. You’re killing me.”

  “Okay.” She managed a weak smile.

  He pressed his forehead against hers. “We’ve both had a long day. Let’s go home and talk things—”

  “Please tell me you’re done with this FBI bullshit.” Her tone gave him whiplash.

  “I think I liked it better when you didn’t swear.” He brought one arm behind her back, leaving the other cradling her face.

  Her soft laugh was a welcome relief. She sniffled. “Then don’t make me mad.”

  He nodded. “I’ll try. Are you sure you don’t want your old life back?”

  “Are you seriously asking me that question?” She glared at him. “If you walk in there, I’ll go with you and confess to every single crime on the books.”

  He sighed. “Maya—”

  “I’m not joking.” Her expression turned menacing. “You are not going to jail on my behalf. Don’t make me punch you again.”

  He chuckled and brushed the tip of his nose over hers. Her puny little fists had hurt him far less than her tears. “You punch like a girl.”

  “That’s because I didn’t want to do any permanent damage.” She attempted a menacing scowl. “I’ll have you know I’ve been taking cardio-kickboxing classes. I need to hear you say the words, Zack, and without your left eye twitching this time.”

  Unable to resist, he nipped her lower lip. “Remind me never to play poker.”

  She reached up and twisted his ear. “No kisses until we get this sorted out. Do you—”

  “I promise to run every decision I make by you from now on.” The next only half-joking words tumbled out of his mouth. “For as long as we both shall live.”

  Her cheeks dimpling, she leaned back and arched her eyebrows. “You’ve skipped several dozen intermediary steps, so let’s save that sentiment for later. Right now, what do you say to packing up your stuff and taking the Chinatown bus to New York? I’m pretty sure they take cash and don’t ask for identification.”

  He wrinkled his nose. “As pleasant as this trip sounds, how about I charter a flight to the US Virgin Islands? I’ve researched a company that’s known for not asking any questions, and we can sail from there across the border to the British side in under an hour.”

  “And how are you going to pay for all this?” She didn’t seem impressed.

  He grinned. “The answer depends. Do you have anything against stealing money from a very bad person?”

  “I’m listening.” She batted her lashes.

  He cleared his throat. “You see, when one siphons money from a shell corporation owned by several other shell corporations, all of which are under the aegis of a criminal mastermind, chances are no one will report the theft.”

  Her brows furrowed. “Isn’t it too late to—”

  “This idea may have occurred to me while you were rechecking your work for
the hundredth time last night and talking to your mommy dearest.” He mimicked her eyelid flutter. “And I happened to have had nothing else to do.”

  The corners of her lips lifted. “You already stole the money.”

  “I also already chartered the plane. It’s fueled and ready to go. The flight plan is filed for midnight.” He lifted his right hand in preparation for a high five.

  Instead, she whooped, did a little jump, and looped her arms around his neck. “Then why are we in front of the Hoover Building?”

  He caught her waist. Who knew impressing a girl could be this satisfying? “I had a change of heart halfway through your interview. But because of the rush, I didn’t have time to cancel my arrangements.”

  Her lips hovering within inches of his, she smiled and repeated his former words. “You know I think you’re awesome, right?”

  Epilogue

  THE WASHINGTON HERALD

  Burning Down the Barn

  by April Neil

  WASHINGTON, D.C. — Senator Diane Ficklestein, Chairwoman of the bipartisan Senate Select Committee on Intelligence, announced yesterday Congress’s plans to de-commission the Barn, the server farm in New Mexico run by the National Security Agency. Senator Ficklestein also confirmed the NSA will be left intact, and that Congress will increase its budget by an undisclosed amount. This decision follows six months of hearings in both the House of Representatives and the Senate, and the settlement of several lawsuits against the US government by pharmaceutical companies Axybarn and Oracn. Both companies, in conjunction with the non-profit Public Health Partnership, claimed poor oversight allowed former NSA Assistant Secretary for Systems Security, Roger Simelach, to damage their operations, causing three hundred million dollars in financial losses and the deaths of over two hundred fifty people.

  As part of a plea bargain with the US Attorney’s Office yesterday, Mr. Simelach confessed to mishandling classified information, insider trading, murder and conspiracy to commit murder, and multiple counts of manslaughter. In return for his cooperation, Mr. Simelach will serve seventy-five years in a minimum-security prison.

  Roger Simelach, a career intelligence analyst, was at the center of a criminal conspiracy that spanned several years. He exploited a flaw in the Barn’s digital infrastructure to manipulate private communications, amassing over half-a-billion dollars by sabotaging companies and betting against them in the stock market. The Federal Bureau of Investigation apprehended the former Assistant Secretary last year, after the Washington Herald published an exposé based on information provided by NSA contractor Zachery Strong and Treasury Department forensic accountant Maya Jain.

  Two class action lawsuits against the government are still pending, one for negligence resulting in illegal financial transactions and another for unlawful interceptions of personal communications by National Security Agency employees, largely based on information provided by Mr. Strong.

  The White House did not comment on allegations of further NSA misconduct revealed by Mr. Strong, including the interception of communication belonging to members of Congress, international leaders, prominent journalists, and executives of major American corporations.

  Mr. Strong and Ms. Jain continue to reside in Sweden, where they were granted political asylum last year. In an interview on Tuesday, Mr. Strong and Ms. Jain—who might be more appropriately referenced as Mrs. Strong by the time of this article’s publication—said their non-profit organization Gra Uggla recently received funding from multiple tech giants to aid with the development of open source software designed to detect and prevent electronic surveillance. The NGO is funded entirely by donations. Several million dollars have already been received.

  The White House issued a statement yesterday announcing the creation of a new National Security Council office that will oversee the NSA to prevent future privacy infringements. Whitehouse spokesman, Kay Jarney, said the president curbed abuses within the intelligence community through bureaucratic reshuffling.

  “In response to revelations over the past six months, as well as the ensuing public concerns, the president believes more oversight is necessary. As we speak, the intelligence community’s best minds are coming up with an electronic interception protocol that best balances our country’s national security needs and the individual liberties of our citizens.”

  ~About the Author~

  Globetrotter, lover of languages, and romance author, Tara Quan has an addiction for crafting tales with a pinch of spice and a smidgen of kink. Inspired by her travels, Tara enjoys tossing her kick-ass heroines and alpha males into exotic contemporary locales, fantasy worlds, and post-apocalyptic futures. Armed with magical powers or conventional weapons, her characters are guaranteed a suspenseful and sensual ride, as well as their own happily ever after. Learn more at www.taraquan.com

  Beyond Fairytales

  Coming 7/22/14

  Darkest Magic by Eva Lefoy

  Chapter One

  Many years ago in Fairwood Forest…

  Caroline inhaled Nik’s woodsy scent and longed to rub herself against his flannel shirt and jeans. The man was gorgeous to look at. His dark hair swept low over his brow in an effortlessly sexy style. The stubble on his chin and cheeks lent him an outdoor-rough manly appeal few pulled off as well. She sighed and desire flooded her from head to toe. But, as usual, the desire left her unfulfilled. After all these years, Nik still hadn’t made a move on her.

  Frustrated, but ever hopeful, she rounded the corner of the woodshed and pretended to bump right into him. He caught her easily, his warm, gentle hands circling her waist. For a few seconds, their bodies touched from chest to hip. The tingle zinged through her like an electric charge. Oh, God, how she wanted to give herself over to the wave of lust washing over her. The trouble would be getting Nik to go along for the ride. “Nik,” she breathed, raising her arms and putting her hands behind his neck. She slanted her mouth upward, lips parted in a blatant invitation. She sensed the instant his cock went hard. It pressed against her mound firm as an iron rod, making her womb clench. “Sorry for intruding,” she murmured.

  His mouth sank toward hers until it hovered tantalizingly close then abruptly stopped. He released her and backed out of her reach, running his fingers through his hair as though trying to make sense of something. She missed the touch immediately and resisted the urge to fist her hands and scream. Nik’s hesitation more than exasperated her; it made her want to kick him in the ass.

  “No problem, Cari.” He flashed her his usual conspirator’s smile. “What kind of trouble are you getting into today?”

  She huffed, gritting her teeth as she slapped her thighs. “Nothing, really.” But I’d like to, if you’d only cooperate, you infuriating man. Taking another chance, she stepped close enough to whisper in his ear, “But if you have any ideas, let me know.”

  Nik tilted his head back and gave a light chuckle. She took the opportunity to touch his chest, swiping her fingers across his solid pec. When he brought his head forward once more, his smoldering eyes set the region between her legs on fire. Oh yes, please, Nik. Please.

  “What’s this?” her father’s voice boomed.

  Both of them jumped, though, as wolves, they should have heard him coming. Apparently neither had been focused on their surroundings. She ducked her chin and glanced at her father from under lowered lashes, both perturbed and anxious lest she rouse his ire.

  Nik kept his head down, too. “Nothing, Eli. Just taking a break from chopping, is all.”

  “You can take an even longer one and go into town for me.” Eli handed him a list. “This should keep you busy till dark.”

  Nodding, Nik took the scrap of paper and left. He didn’t even glance her way. But she’d been so close. “Nik, wait.” She took a step after him and her father’s hand clamped around her arm like a vise, stopping her in her tracks.

  “You stay here.”

  “But I can go along and help him. Besides, I need to do some shopping of my own.”

&n
bsp; Her father’s eyes glowed red, and a vein pulsed in his neck. Knowing she’d aggravated him, she tried to twist out of his grasp but only succeeded in squirming under his unrelenting gaze.

  “What do you want with him, anyway?”

  Want? “Father, don’t you know? You of all people should realize….” She caught a flash of red hair a few seconds before Eli’s wife, Petrina, appeared in full view. Instantly, she recoiled. Petrina’s green eyes were glistening and as changeable as a stormy sea. The creepy woman made her flesh crawl. “Please, Father, let me go.”

  “Stay away from Nik,” he growled. “This is your last warning.” He released her roughly, pushed her away, and went to join the woman he’d married after her mother had died. A poor substitute, in her opinion. Father had made a mistake marrying this one.

  Once freed, she didn’t walk, she ran. Fled into the forest around their homestead where nothing but pine trees and birds could touch her. Caroline sprinted until she panted like a mad beast. When she finally stopped, she sank to her knees and pummeled the dirt with her hands. She stifled scream after scream as she beat the woods—for with their excellent wolf ears the pack would surely hear her—but didn’t bother hiding her sobs. Without Nik, her tears were all she had left.

  ***

  A faint rustle of leaves betrayed Eli’s presence. That, and his scent. It stank of magic, these days, and Nik suspected the source. He scrunched his nose so as not to take in more of the all-too-familiar odor than absolutely necessary. The threat of impending violence permeated the sweet forest air around him, spoiling its natural purity. Less than a half-mile behind him, Eli paused and howled. The deep, hollow-sounding warning rattled through the pine needles like a battle cry, settling low and heavy in his gut. Oh, fuck. What’s his problem? I didn’t even touch Caroline.