The Spy Who Wants Me

by Lucy Monroe

  There. She’d apprised her boss of the situation, let him know she hadn’t admitted to anything and left any revelations made up to his discretion. If her fury at the situation leaked through her words, The Old Man would understand it. The idea that someone within The Goddard Project was feeding information to the outside was more than disconcerting; it was devastating.

  The agents and support personnel for TGP were more than her coworkers; in a very real sense, they were a second family.

  Beau was looking at her with that odd expression again. Only now, maybe she understood it. He’d met her knowing she was pretending to be something less than what she was. And because of that, he didn’t trust her. A lot of things made more sense to her.

  But one thing didn’t. Why had he made love to her the night before? It had been the first time she’d had sex in four years without some ulterior motive. The prospect that he’d had one left a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach.

  “I see,” Whit said. “Mr. Smith, do you have a first name?”

  “Of course.”

  “Do you mind sharing it?”

  “I do.”

  “I see.”

  Silence again. “This situation certainly is bizarre,” The Old Man said.

  He might be giving Elle tacit approval for her handling of the circumstances and agreement that she did not appear to be in imminent physical danger, or simply stating the truth.

  “I am sorry it seems that way to you,” Mr. Smith said.

  “Ahh…” The Old Man sounded like he was pleased about something. “I thought your voice sounded familiar, Mr. Smith.”

  “So, you recognize it?” the other man asked.

  “Yes.”

  “If I assure you the conversation is neither being recorded nor listened to by anyone not already listed by Ms. Gray, will you believe me?”

  Silence.

  Elle waited. Everyone waited. Even Mr. Smith, who said nothing else.

  Finally, “I will,” came from The Old Man.

  “Good. Can we dispense with the cloak-and-dagger regarding Ms. Gray’s role here at ETRD?”

  “It would be pointless to refuse. However, I expect you to tell me how you got into my computers and identified my agent.”

  “Will do. Later.”

  Mr. Smith and The Old Man knew each other? And trusted each other? This case was getting stranger by the minute. Elle didn’t know there was anyone Andrew “Whit” Whitney trusted other than his precious TGP, but the way her boss talked made it sound like Mr. Smith himself was responsible for the leak in information. That he had somehow hacked into TGP’s computers.

  Which put him in league abilitywise with about three computer hackers in the world. Unless he had one of them working for him.

  “I assume you are meeting about the threats made against Chantal Renaud,” The Old Man said.

  “That and the disappearance of Dr. Gil Bigsley. Apparently, Mr. Smith is responsible for Bigsley’s disappearance,” Elle said as she gave the camera eye a look of disgust. “He didn’t see fit to share that bit of information with anyone else until now.”

  The Old Man snorted. “I’m not surprised.”

  Okay, she was now majorly curious as to who Mr. Smith was in her boss’s world, but she knew better than to ask.

  “Hmm…then you are light-years ahead of me. I don’t understand why if Mr. Smith knew about our agency and my assignment, he didn’t come clean from the beginning. If we had known about the threats against Dr. Bigsley, we might already have leads on those responsible.”

  “I fully intended to apprise you of the threats made toward Dr. Bigsley, but I wanted to see if you would discover the issue on your own,” Mr. Smith replied.

  The Old Man chuckled, but Elle wasn’t amused. “You were testing me?”

  “You may put it that way if you wish.”

  Oh, she was so going to find out who this guy really was. “I’m glad you seem to find your little games so appealing.” She let the sarcasm drip from every word. “I don’t think Chantal is enjoying the results of them nearly as much.”

  “I miscalculated both the impatience and tenacity of the people who had threatened Dr. Bigsley. I did not anticipate them going after another of my scientists so quickly. They should have been wary of discovery since they knew that contrary to their claims to her, they were not responsible for his disappearance,” Mr. Smith replied.

  “You think? Maybe someone should have told them that. Oh, and maybe you should have been more concerned with the good of your company and the safety of its employees than with stratagems designed for your own personal entertainment,” Elle retorted.

  Her boss chuckled again and she had visions of spreading honey on his desk chair and dropping a hive of bees off in his office.

  “That’s telling him, princess.” If Beau’s voice hadn’t been brimming with laughter, she would have been okay with it, but evidently he too thought this situation a lot funnier than it was.

  She gave him a look meant to intimidate and then turned to his boss. “What do you think, Frank? Are you as amused as Beau and our bosses are by this situation?”

  Below the perfectly styled salt-and-pepper hair, the older man’s expression was resigned. “Perhaps I am more accustomed to Mr. Smith’s peccadilloes. But amused? No, I am not. Had Chantal run or given in to the threats out of fear as a result of Mr. Smith keeping his secrets, that would have indeed been a tragedy.”

  At least one person had his brain in the right place. “I agree, but then I’m just the dupe in this little farce Mr. Smith has orchestrated.”

  Elle was more than good at her job; she was great. She hadn’t been played like this ever. And she didn’t like it.

  At all.

  Doing nothing to suppress the growl of irritation pushing to get out, she started typing. She was done playing the role of Bottom to Mr. Smith’s Fairy King, though. If her boss wasn’t worried about the breach of their agency’s security, she wasn’t going to make a big deal about it. Not that she didn’t plan to bring it up in the next status meeting with the other agents. She so did. But for right now, she had a job to do.

  No one spoke until she looked up from the notes she’d taken on leads she wanted to pursue and pieces of information she had already gathered from the meeting.

  “Right. Okay, first things first. Dr. Ruston, is the antigravity project viable for commercial or government prototype?” she asked.

  Beau gave her a look at the use of his title, but at least he wasn’t trying to stifle laughter anymore. “Mr. Smith?”

  “You may answer with full disclosure.”

  Beau’s dark Hershey gaze shifted to Elle. “The short answer is no.”

  She did her best to ignore the effect those gorgeous eyes had on her. She’d made all the mistakes on this case she was going to. Wanting something with Beau beyond their working relationship had been one of them. “And the long answer?”

  “Our antigravity theory is based on magnetohydrodynamics. We tested on a one-five-hundredths-scale model, but the electrostatic discharge was excessive. At this point, it would be fatal for crew or observers on a full-scale model. We’re still working on the fix for that before we go back to testing on a modular level.”

  “But the ship looks full scale in the video of the test.”

  “The simple explanation for that is that your mind interpreted the other visuals in line with that supposition, as opposed to looking at it and realizing the camera was fairly close to the flying model.” Beau shrugged. “It’s a common technique used in special effects, but it wasn’t intentional on our part. Of course, we didn’t anticipate someone stealing the video footage and showing it to others without knowledge of the modular nature of our test.”

  Elle nodded, taking more notes as he spoke. “On another note entirely, do you have an electrolyte concentration analyzer in one of your labs here?”

  “In fact, we do, but why do you ask?”

  “I’d like to use it to see how long the
battery on the listening device I found has been in place.”

  “Ah,” said Mr. Smith.

  “Unless it has a much longer life than I anticipate, it has been replaced since Eddie Danza’s departure from the company,” Elle said.

  “That’s not good news,” Beau said.

  “Unless you know something about it?” Elle asked, her question clearly directed at the speakerphone.

  “I do not bug my employees’ offices, Ms. Gray,” said Mr. Smith.

  “Really? Would you tell me if you did?”

  “Elle—” her boss started to say.

  “I don’t want to waste time pursuing a useless lead because he’s playing more of his games, sir.”

  “I assure you, the bug was not placed there by me or at my instigation,” Mr. Smith said.

  Elle wasn’t sure she believed him, but she had no choice but to pursue the lead with his denial. He wasn’t the first principal who hid things from her. Now that she knew he fell in that category, she would take a slightly different tack with her investigation. No matter how much The Old Man seemed to trust the mysterious Mr. Smith, she wasn’t going to be caught blindfolded again.

  “I’ll need to speak to Dr. Bigsley as soon as possible. Please arrange it for sometime today,” she said.

  There were at least a couple of indrawn breaths at Elle’s peremptory words toward Mr. Smith, but she ignored them. He’d played her and she wasn’t about to pretend she wasn’t more than a little annoyed about it. She also was no longer technically merely his employee. His knowledge of her role as an agent played in her favor there.

  She was indisputably the agent in charge on a federal investigation and they could all just deal with that fact.

  “I’ll see what I can do, Ms. Gray.”

  “Good. Have you been in contact with Elite Security Force yet, sir?”

  “I have. Daniel Black Eagle and his wife, Josette, will be arriving this evening. They will be coming in on a private jet landing in a municipal airport south of your present location. A rented vehicle will be waiting for them. They should call your cell to confirm arrival, but their current plan is to meet you at Dr. Chernichenko’s home.”

  Some of the tension Elle had been feeling drained out of her. “Perfect.”

  From everything she knew about him (and it was her job to know a lot about the others in the top of her cover field), Nitro and his wife would do a darn good job of watching over Elle’s brother and Chantal. Nitro was a former Army Ranger, then mercenary turned security specialist. His wife was a former mercenary, trained from childhood by her father in the art of combat and warfare. Although she spent more time working on computers than in the field now, they were both the best of the best.

  If Elle ever decided to leave TGP and move entirely into the private sector, she would be more than happy to join her resources with those of Elite Security Force.

  “Is there anything else that could be pertinent to this situation that you have not shared, Mr. Smith?” she asked.

  “No.”

  Elle waited, giving him a chance to change his answer and telling him silently that she took nothing he said at face value any longer. When the silence had stretched a full minute, she said, “Good. Frank?”

  “There are a couple of personnel matters that may or may not play into this.”

  “Do you think so, Frank?” Mr. Smith asked.

  “I think they’re worth telling Elle about. She can decide if they are pertinent to her investigation or not.”

  Oho, so Frank wasn’t above giving a subtle rebuke either. She nodded her approval to him.

  “Just so,” The Old Man said. “An agent never knows what bits of information will play a key role in an investigation like this. It’s always better to err on the side of telling too much.”

  “Point taken,” Mr. Smith said wryly. “From both of you.”

  Frank cleared his throat. “Lana Ericson, the PM for material transformation, has made it clear she is jealous and disapproving of the amount of resources dedicated thus far to the antigravity project.”

  “Material transformation?” Elle asked.

  “Modern-day alchemy. Recycling resources or creating energy via conversion,” Beau explained.

  “And you think…”

  “That if the people looking to buy the plans for the antigravity project had contacted her rather than Chantal, they might have encountered a lot more cooperation.” Frank didn’t sound particularly disturbed by that knowledge, simply more resigned.

  Like he was about Mr. Smith’s peccadilloes, as he’d called them.

  Elle couldn’t imagine being a company controller. And she’d always thought The Old Man had a tough job riding herd on TGP.

  “Are the other PMs aware of the lack of success on the project’s modular test run?” she asked.

  “It flew; that was a success,” Beau said, just a tad defensively. “But yes, she and the other project managers know that it is not yet viable for use as a prototype.”

  “So, she would what? Give the plans in hopes of undermining it both as a security risk and by exposing its lack of overall success to the public?” Elle asked Frank, making sure she wasn’t off base on the motivations she was attributing to the other woman.

  “Knowing her personality and the way her brain works? It’s a possibility, yes.”

  “Why is someone you obviously consider a security risk in a lead position, or even working here at all?”

  “Nobody is perfect, Elle. And brilliance almost always comes with a cost. For Lana, that cost is a borderline obsessive jealousy toward other scientists and projects not under her authority or part of her passion,” Frank replied.

  “But if a full-size prototype was built, as soon as it was powered up, people could, and probably would, die,” Beau said, with a frown as fierce as anything her brother could come up with. “I can’t believe Lana would risk that, no matter how jealous she is of my project.”

  “People don’t always count the cost of their actions when an impulse grips them,” Elle replied, giving the video cam a significant look. Then she looked at Frank. “You said a couple of personnel concerns.”

  He nodded. “The second one would be Archer Sandstone.”

  “He wanted my job.” Beau looked pained.

  “He’s a PM, but he wanted both Beau’s group and his role as my second in command.”

  “Any justification to his expectations?”

  “No. Beau’s worked here longer, and frankly, he’s been my right hand since day one. His promotion to project manager only made that role more concrete. Archer’s a fine scientist, but something of a prima donna.”

  “You think there’s a chance he’d be interested in undermining Beau and his project?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.”

  “Sounds to me like it was lucky for ETRD that the perpetrators approached Chantal instead of someone else.” Of course there was the bug to consider. Someone had planted that.

  However, if it was someone with access to the plans, Chantal wouldn’t have been threatened in an attempt to procure them, would she?

  Frank shrugged. “Every company has its personality conflicts.”

  “I suppose.” Elle finished typing in her notes on Frank’s revelations, then faced Beau. “Anything you’ve been holding back?”

  “Pertinent to the case? No.”

  “Pertinent to the case is the only thing that interests me.” And she was going to remember that from now on.

  “You think so?” he asked in that sexy Texas drawl.

  She gave him a short nod and then turned to Frank. “I should have a preliminary report regarding proposed security changes for ETRD to you by the end of next week.” Then she spoke toward the speakerphone. “I’ll confer with our Vancouver operative this afternoon, sir. Maybe he’s got some idea about who could be responsible for the threats to Dr. Bigsley and Chantal.”

  “Sounds good, Elle,” The Old Man said.

  She packed her laptop away and
stood. “If that’s all, gentlemen.”

  “She’s no shrinking violet, is she, Whit?” Mr. Smith commented.

  “Nope.” The Old Man sounded like a proud parent.

  Elle ignored both his and Mr. Smith’s comments as she headed out of Frank’s office.

  Beau was with her when she reached the door. “Aren’t you forgetting something, sugar?”

  “Thank you for reminding me.” Elle put her hand out for the keys to her Spider. It would have been a bummer to be stuck at Mat’s place without transportation, especially once the Black Eagles arrived so she could return to her own temporary apartment.

  He held the keys above her open palm. “I don’t suppose you’d consider giving me a lift home.” He paused, a grin flirting with his lips. “Or letting me drive this baby again?”

  “I’m sure Frank can give you a ride. I need to stick by Chantal and Mat right now.”

  “What are the chances the bad guys realize she’s with him?”

  Elle shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Any chance is enough to maintain caution.”

  Even though federal stats indicated that a bank is robbed every hour in the United States, Elle had believed the chances of her husband being witness to a robbery, much less taken hostage, were pretty much nonexistent. She’d been wrong. She wasn’t going to allow a false sense of security to diminish how carefully she watched out for her brother and his new girlfriend.

  At least she assumed Chantal was a new love interest for her brother. Might be interesting to find out what had led to the other woman asking the irascible scientist for his help when she was threatened. If they’d been in a relationship for a while and he hadn’t told Mama, he was so in trouble.

  Hmm…something to bug him about once they got back to his place.

  With a spring in her step, Elle headed for Mat’s office to collect her charges.

  Her sense of anticipation took a dive for the carpet when she realized Beau was still with her. “I’m sorry, but I really can’t give you a ride, doc.”

  “I get that, but we need to talk.”