Undercover Soldier

by Linda O. Johnston

  He immediately looked from Sherra to the computer on the table. “What the hell are you doing? Didn’t you understand that you’re not to be on the computer? Or at least not on the internet? Are you asking for trouble?”

  She stood and confronted him. “No, I’m not asking for trouble, but you’ve sure dumped it on me, Brody. Or Bill. Or whoever you are today. I’m being damned careful to obscure where I am in case anyone is looking—thanks to you and your trouble. But right now, you need to let me contact Miles Hodgens from my office or that trouble just might come from the cops. Tell me how you want me to play this, Brody, or I’ll do it myself.”

  Chapter 9

  Brody sat at the table facing Sherra, clenching his fists and glaring. Attacking her verbally wouldn’t help—not until he heard her story.

  “I knew I had to be careful, Brody…Bill.” She stared right back, clearly not cowed by his anger. “I took extra steps to make sure I couldn’t be found.” She described how she’d used some neighbor’s connection and played games to hide who was really looking at her emails.

  And what she had learned when she finally read some.

  “I really need to contact Miles and assure him I’m okay,” she finished. “If I don’t, he’ll call the cops. Then we’ll have not only your bad guys hunting us, but the authorities, too. With all that, someone’s liable to succeed. I didn’t talk to him when I called in sick at work yesterday, so he may not know I’ve already contacted someone there.”

  He had to hand it to her. Under the circumstances, she had taken a good, almost careful approach.

  Not that he would tell her so. She had no business getting on the internet at all without giving him the chance to observe what she did and be sure that their new identities and location weren’t accidentally revealed. Especially since her former location had been discovered and she’d been attacked.

  He realized now that, since efforts had been taken online by government IT experts at the Defense Information Systems Agency to obfuscate his change in identity and assignment, the bad guys had even more reason to go after the initial hacker, Sherra, to extract whatever information she had. For now, he needed to protect her and keep her location secret even more than he needed to keep her off the internet—especially since she took steps to hide. But he wouldn’t tell her so.

  And maybe what she had done had worked all right.

  “Okay,” he said. “You can call your work buddy using my phone. It’s more secure than yours. He’s already met me. Just hint we’re having a huge fling, and that’s why you slipped away. You’re fine, everything’s fine, and you’ll see him back at the office soon. Tell him about the phone call you made to your boss saying you were ill and wouldn’t be in for a few days.” He had let Sherra call from her phone yesterday to attempt to save her job. “That actually might be a good thing, since we’re not sure when you can go back.” If things didn’t improve, it could be a long time. “Ask Miles to cover for you as much as possible. Tell him you’re worried about your job but you simply couldn’t resist.” Brody managed a suggestive grin despite the increasingly angry stare he received.

  “Is that what this is?” Sherra hissed. “A huge— Never mind. I’d rather tell Miles I’m sick, like I told my boss, Vic…but Jenny contacting him that way makes that impossible. Even if I keep my job, I’ll never live this down to Miles. Poor Miles. He’d thought we—well, forget it.”

  “He wanted a huge fling with you.” Brody couldn’t stop himself. She didn’t comment but her glare became even angrier. The thought made Brody angry again, too. Hell, was he jealous? Ridiculous.

  “Give me your phone,” she demanded.

  He did so, but when Sherra tried to leave the room with it he stopped her. “I need to hear what you say.”

  “This should be private. It’s a conversation with my friend.”

  “Who could wind up being your enemy, even inadvertently, if you say the wrong thing and he repeats it to the wrong people.”

  “I hate all this game playing!” Sherra’s dark eyes flashed in fury that suggested she hated him, too.

  Which shouldn’t matter to him. It was better that way. Getting close to her again physically had been a mistake. It could soften his vigilance—and that couldn’t happen, for his sake as well as hers.

  “Doesn’t matter,” he retorted. “Just sit here and call him. And make it short.”

  * * *

  She hated having to obey Brody. But remembering the guy he had fought off at her condo—as if he ever left her mind—she recognized validity to Brody’s claims of danger and even threats to national security.

  She still didn’t know all she needed to. The quid pro quo for her cooperation should be for him to explain even more—like all that had happened here in the U.S. after his counterpart Brody Andrews was killed overseas instead of him.

  But she didn’t ask that. Not now. Not when he was allowing her to call Miles—despite restrictions.

  “All right,” she said quietly. Brody handed her his phone. She fortunately recalled Miles’s phone number and dialed it.

  “Hello?” His tenor voice sounded shrill. He obviously didn’t recognize the number on his caller ID.

  “Miles, it’s me.” He exclaimed something, but she didn’t let him get in a word while she continued. “I’m so sorry I haven’t gotten back to you earlier. Jenny was sweet to be concerned about me, but everything’s fine. Have you talked to Vic? I called in for some sick leave. I’m not too ill…but I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”

  “Are you with that guy Jim?”

  “Well…” She would let him jump to his own conclusions.

  “If so, you’re making a big mistake, Sherra.” His voice was cold and remote, and Sherra wished she could hug her friend, whom she obviously was hurting—even though he had no reason to consider her more than a friend. “He seemed like an ass to me. But don’t worry about things around here. I’ll cover for you.”

  “Thanks so much, Miles,” she said quietly—but he had already hung up.

  * * *

  If Sherra had yelled at him after her phone call, or even acted irritable, Brody would have shrugged it off and left her alone—or at least stayed out of her way.

  Instead, she seemed sad. She didn’t say a word but just handed him his phone. Then she continued to sit at the kitchen table, staring at her computer though it was turned off. She clearly didn’t want to meet his gaze.

  He wanted to take her into his arms, no matter how bad an idea that was. He was about to ask what she was thinking when his phone rang. Her buddy calling back?

  Brody glanced at the caller ID. Definitely not Sherra’s coworker. “I’ve got to take this.” He pushed the button to talk as he walked out of the room.

  “Mr. Bradshaw?” said John Ragar. The assistant undersecretary was using one of his covert lines, but Brody had suspected who it was because of the blocked information—and he’d been expecting the call. The man’s cool yet commanding tone, plus his knowledge of Brody’s undercover alias, cinched it.

  “Yes, this is Bill.” Brody kept his own tone friendly yet businesslike. “How are you today, sir?”

  That made it clear Brody knew who he was talking to.

  “I’d like to set up a meeting this afternoon,” Ragar said. “There are some new developments we need to discuss. Are you available at two o’clock closer to D.C.?”

  “Name the place,” Brody said.

  * * *

  Brody wondered what Ragar’s reaction would be when he arrived.

  Sherra and he sat at a corner table in the back room of the restaurant in Crystal City, Virginia—near the Pentagon—to which Ragar had directed Brody, in an upscale area that included high-end underground shopping and dining.

  Sherra sipped an iced tea. A soft drink sat in front of Brody on the embroi
dered linen tablecloth. He’d considered a beer or something harder but doubted that would make the best impression on Ragar.

  Plus, he needed all his wits about him. He wasn’t sure what the assistant undersecretary wanted to talk about, but he doubted he’d find it pretty.

  Brody pulled his phone from his pocket and glanced at it. Ragar was late, more than a half hour past the time he’d set to meet. But it was still too soon to try calling him.

  Brody glanced at Sherra. She’d apparently been staring but quickly looked over his shoulder, as if some artwork on the wall of the dimly lit room had suddenly captured her attention.

  Sherra and he had barely spoken in the car on the drive here. Now, too, the silence between them lengthened. It was definitely not comfortable. He wanted to make her uneasy. Teach her a lesson about failing to listen when he had her best interests in mind.

  Instead, he was probably the most edgy about it.

  “How’s your tea?” he finally asked.

  She shrugged and took another sip before meeting his eyes. “So who is this person we’ll be talking with?”

  “I’ll be talking with,” Brody reminded her.

  She shrugged again, and he wanted to shake her. Maybe do something else to show she needed to follow his rules—or at least to get her attention.

  Like kiss those lips that pouted so sexily over the straw.

  Instead, Brody just sat back and kept his expression stern. He hadn’t wanted to bring her but had figured, during that brief conversation with Ragar, that he had no choice. The Glen Burnie house was probably still safe for now, but she’d been on the computer without his supervision. Despite what she had disclosed to him, there was a possibility she’d visited other websites that could reveal their location. Maybe she even found a way to let her buddy Miles know where she was, though Brody had listened in on that conversation. They might have some kind of undisclosed code between pals.

  Or not. Brody believed he would be able to read that in Sherra’s reactions.

  But what had clinched it was her insistence on coming along. Not that he had any intention of obeying her commands. His were to protect both of them, as well as his assignment. But she had made it clear that, left on her own, she’d disappear after he drove off. Would not wait patiently for his return.

  She might even go back to her own familiar environment and ramp up her security—maybe an okay thing for most people in scary situations, but not her. Not now.

  Would her presence inhibit the assistant undersecretary’s ability to talk?

  Facing the dining room door, Brody realized he was about to find out. John Ragar had just arrived.

  * * *

  “Hello,” Sherra said after Brody—not, for now, either Bradshaw or Martin—introduced her to this apparent muckety-muck in the Department of Defense. She put out her hand and he shook it firmly. Like a soldier, she supposed, though he was apparently in upper civilian management rather than the military.

  “Hello, Ms. Alexander.” He took a seat at the table.

  John Ragar was a tall, thin man with a face so long that it seemed to stretch his serious expression—appropriate for a government suit. Unsurprisingly, he actually wore a suit, although he had removed his jacket and placed it over the back of his chair.

  A server in a white apron immediately came over and took the man’s order—a bourbon, neat. He also ordered a plate of hors d’oeuvres for the table, a sampling of crab cakes, oysters and hot wings.

  When the server left, Ragar looked at Brody. Sherra had the sense she’d effectively been tuned out. She’d just have to see about that.

  She glanced at Brody. They’d been giving each other the silent treatment ever since she’d insisted on coming along. Fine with her. She wanted to know who Ragar was and what he had to do with Brody’s current situation.

  They hadn’t been quite so silent last night, in bed, but there was no indication in any of Brody’s looks that he remembered that.

  Their hot bout of sex, their deep physical attraction, was another thing that had effectively been tuned out, she thought. For the meeting Brody had dressed in a beige cotton shirt and khaki trousers. He was also wearing the blankest expression she’d ever seen on his handsome face.

  “As you know, I heard about the attack at Ms. Alexander’s place,” Ragar said to Brody. “Captain Cortez informed me. I had my staff work out your current cover. Does everything in Glen Burnie appear under control?”

  Sherra looked at Brody, expecting him to accuse her of trying to sabotage that wonderful new cover. But he didn’t spare a glance her way. “I believe so, sir. Both Sherra and I had to smooth out some kinks in getting time off from our respective jobs—her actual job and my cover for the investigation. We’re okay for now at least.”

  “But we need to get you back there as fast as possible.” Ragar’s expression looked grim as the server brought his drink. “Your cover is growing flimsier all the time.” He glared at Sherra, then back at Brody. “We may have to pull you off your assignment, so we need answers immediately. If you’re discovered before we’ve got all we need, it’ll be impossible to get someone else dug in there—and I’m not certain we can protect you. I’m therefore working on getting someone to stay with Ms. Alexander instead of you—a ‘friend of the family,’ maybe, so you can get back on the job.”

  Sherra opened her mouth to object but Brody shot her a scowl. “Good idea, if we don’t get things handled with our new covers. Just give me the weekend to figure it out.” He didn’t act subservient this time, but as if he would brook no objection.

  That made Sherra happy.

  She also knew she’d have to convince him she would be a good girl and go along with his orders before he’d leave her…or she might wind up with some strange “friend of the family” attempting to whip her into shape instead.

  “All right,” Ragar said. “Just a couple of days, though.”

  There was another interruption as the server brought over a heaping platter of appetizers.

  When they each had taken some food—Sherra scooped only a chicken wing and a crab cake onto her plate—Ragar said, “Now, let me tell you the other reason I wanted to talk to you. You need to know that the family of Brody Andrews is nosing around, asking questions.”

  Brody paused with a wing nearly to his mouth. He put it down again. Sherra saw a stab of pain in his expression before he resumed his emotionless appearance.

  “I’m sure they’re concerned because they haven’t heard from Brody for a while,” this Brody said.

  “We handled it well for the circumstances,” Ragar said. “As soon as you were confirmed in your initial covert role as Andrews, we contacted his family and told them he was on an important undercover assignment and might not be in touch for some time. They apparently accepted that at first. But now—well, it’s been a few weeks. They contacted my staff members who were first in touch and started asking more questions. We’ve given them good answers that should satisfy them again, at least for a while. But there’s always a possibility they’ll find a way to locate the living ‘Brody Andrews’—you.”

  “That wouldn’t be good.” Brody’s hard stare at Ragar made it clear he considered that an understatement.

  Sherra sensed his renewed, deep pain, the guilt at being the survivor. Her irritation with him and his attitude vanished, replaced by an urge to comfort him. But that would have to come later, when this suit was gone.

  “No, it wouldn’t,” Ragar said. “They indicated they might dig even deeper, hire investigators, whatever. We made it clear they’d better not, that national security is involved, and they seemed to understand. If you’re contacted, let us know immediately. Be kind to them, but firm. Hint that you’re part of the same operation but that Andrews is deeper undercover—and nothing else. Got that?”

  “Yes, sir.” Brody’s r
esponse was hoarse.

  Sherra prepared to say something, but he frowned at her.

  Ragar caught the silent communication and looked at her. “Do you understand, Ms. Alexander? It’s vital that the Andrewses be handled appropriately so they don’t ruin our operation. We won’t get another chance.”

  “I do understand,” Sherra said. “And this conversation has been very helpful. I didn’t completely gather before how the two identities were switched.”

  She still didn’t entirely follow why her Brody had been thrust undercover somewhere here in the U.S., or what he was doing. He still needed to explain that.

  But for now—

  “I feel sorry for the Andrews family,” she said, “but you can count on me not to tell them anything about what’s going on.”

  Especially if she never grasped it fully herself.

  Chapter 10

  “Interesting situation,” Sherra said during the drive back to Glen Burnie. “Too bad I don’t understand all of it…yet. You owe me more, Brody.”

  She watched his neutral stare out the windshield turn into a hardened glare toward the four-lane highway. There wasn’t a lot of traffic. It was probably late enough, this early evening, for most commuters to have already traversed the attractively landscaped road. That meant their car was traveling fast.

  Faster now that Brody was riled again.

  She was glad he didn’t aim his glower toward her. It, and his attitude, made her uneasy enough.

  But she wasn’t flinching.

  “What do you mean?” His tone was so cold that it penetrated her heart like an icicle.

  “I understand you worked with the Corps of Engineers in Afghanistan supervising some U.S. contractors there. You found that things weren’t completely aboveboard, and you started trying to fix that. That led to an explosion and the death of poor Brody Andrews, and it also resulted in your being sent back to the States in some kind of undercover position. So…?”