by Sara Craven
The minute the door closed, Jack asked, “Well?”
“For what it’s worth, I believe she’s telling the truth, but I have to admit, she’s not a good subject. You know as well as I do there are some heads I can’t crack. She could be one. Whether that’s by chance or her own design is anybody’s guess at this point. However, all of her physical and verbal responses indicate she’s innocent and being perfectly honest. I’d bet on it.”
Jack nodded. “I agree. She was the one who made the call even if she was a little tardy about it. Of course, she could be covering her ass by giving us Bergen’s. He’s dead and can’t defend himself.”
“But you don’t think that’s the case,” Eric said. “Neither do I. I’d stake my reputation that her story’s legit, even if she is a closed book, mindwise.”
“It’s early yet to be that definite, given that you can’t read her thoughts. We can’t afford to be wrong about this. Could you try a little remote viewing? See if you can pick up anything on this guy?”
“If I had something he’d touched, it might work, but as it stands, your guess about what’s going on is as good as mine.” Eric glanced through the mirror at Dawn Moon. “I believe her.”
Jack held his silence for a minute. “Okay, I’m releasing her. Let’s put her to work with you. She can positively ID the man. I will be Control on this op. Holly, Will and Joe will assist in the internal investigation here at the Bureau. Clay will assist you and Moon. Money was probably Bergen’s motive for selling out. The buyers’ incentives will be varied. You will be one of them.”
“Terrorists will be lined up,” Eric said with a sigh. “Al-Qaeda right up front.”
“We’ll have to work on that assumption. That shield would be perfect for concealing activity in desert training camps. You’ll go in as Al-Dayal,” Jack said. It wasn’t a question. He glanced through the mirrored window into the interrogation room, where Dawn Moon waited impatiently for what would happen next. “Wherever this leads, you’ll take her with you.”
Eric didn’t want to work with Agent Moon, not on this. “I’m best alone on jobs like this, Jack. If I go into it as a potential buyer, that means some high-wire walking with no net. If you insist on my having backup, I’ll take Clay. At least he has a working knowledge of Arabic.”
Clay Senate was the guy to have at your back, a quiet mountain of bronze muscle with keen intelligence to match his physical strength. His marksmanship skills were legendary, and, even without a weapon, he was lethal. It always amazed Eric how a man of Clay’s size and appearance could blend into any environment and go virtually unnoticed until he decided to strike.
Mercier countered the argument, if not the suggestion. “Don’t worry, Clay will be involved. A money man like Al-Dayal naturally would have a bodyguard and Clay will fit the bill, but I want Moon with you, too.”
“Consider, Jack. If this goes where I think it will, a woman wouldn’t be any good to us where meetings are concerned. She’ll have to stay secluded in the damn hotel.”
“Then you can use a micro-cam and feed her faces to look at. I want her with you. Maybe this shooter is only a thug working on behalf of some organized group, but I have a strong feeling this job is a one-man show. I want that man.”
Well, that settled that. One did not argue with Jack’s strong feelings. Also, the agent in charge had the final say. Eric followed Jack’s gaze, watching the woman work to control her nerves. “Will you be clearing this mission with her director?”
“Not necessary. For all intents and purposes, Moon’s ours until we are satisfied she’s given us all she knows, so that won’t be an issue. And it could be that Bergen’s not the only one in his outfit who was involved in this. Let’s keep the whole thing close to the vest until we see how it plays out. You can manage Moon, can’t you?”
When you can’t read her thoughts. Eric understood the unspoken addition to Jack’s question. “Sure. Her face is an open book, even if her mind isn’t. If I see any indication that she’s a liability, I’ll notify you and you can have her yanked.”
Mercier nodded. “Fine. I’ll call John Q. and have appropriate passports and identification readied since you can’t go in as Americans. You might try teaching her a few words of Arabic.”
“No, that won’t be enough. I guess I could pass her off as my wife. Say she’s…Andorran or something. Yeah, that would work since that country is located between France and Spain and she’s fluent in those two languages, according to her record.”
Fifteen minutes later, Eric returned to the interrogation room where Jack and Holly waited with Agent Moon. She was reviewing photos of possible suspects on Holly’s laptop and apparently having no luck.
He entered and approached the table. “I think Bergen sent you on the security gig because he intended you to take the fall for this.”
“Why didn’t he just steal it and be done with it?” Dawn demanded. “He was perfectly capable. Why set up such an elaborate scheme and involve me?”
Eric explained, “If you look at it from his perspective, it’s not a bad plan to get what he wanted and deflect any suspicion from himself. He was too large to crawl through the vents, the one vulnerable point of entry. Obviously you two discussed this hole in security for his report after you did the scheduled daytime analysis with the escort, so you knew exactly how to get inside. That much was detailed in his write-up, very carefully.”
“I did get inside. That was the plan. His plan.”
Eric continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “If he had lived, he could have reported that you decided to take advantage of it without sanction, went in at midnight and copied the info. Caught in the act by the tech, you eliminated him and went out the way you came in. You knew the tech’s body would be found, the theft discovered, so you disappeared. He would have seen that you did.”
“Unless that technician’s still alive and corroborates my story, you know I can’t prove it didn’t go down exactly like that,” Moon admitted. “But it didn’t.”
She remained still as death, her eyes like brown lasers.
Eric agreed that it hadn’t. “Bergen entered with the tech’s cooperation, unwilling or otherwise. The tech punched in his codes and provided iris and print identification. Bergen would have known how to circumvent the surveillance cameras. No one shows up on those as entering by normal means, even the tech.”
“The tech is dead,” she said in a small voice.
“Yes. And the surveillance tapes are copies of one night last week when the place was deserted. Bergen was a busy guy.”
“So you do believe me,” she said, exhaling with relief.
“Enough to arrange for your help in the mission. We need to catch the shooter and grab that information before it hits the wrong hands. For the duration of this investigation, you’ll be my partner. We’re going after this guy, Agent Moon, wherever that takes us.”
“Any objections to following through on this?” Mercier stated it like a challenge to her, implying that if she refused, they might suspect that she was in on the theft with Bergen, an accessory to treason and murder.
She’d see it as a test. Eric sensed her hesitation and didn’t blame her for it.
He almost hated Mercier for leaving her with that fear, for using it to gain her compliance and take away her choice. This would be a damned dangerous mission. Really dicey. Her training was probably adequate for deep cover work, but according to her file, she had no experience in it at all. Diving in headfirst was a hell of a way to get her feet wet.
She seemed to consider for a few seconds, then shook her head. “No. No objections. I want to do whatever I can.” Still, she looked doubtful about why they wanted her in on it.
Eric turned to her and smiled. “The NSA trained all the trust right out of you, didn’t they?”
She shrugged and issued a bitter half laugh. “Apparently not thoroughly enough. I trusted Bergen.”
“Will you be able to trust me, Dawn?” he asked, using her Christian n
ame for the first time, his voice brisk to cover the soft spot developing where she was concerned.
She had been betrayed by one of her own, a man she had trusted implicitly. Eric sympathized. It would be hard to place that much faith in anyone she worked with next.
He glanced at Jack Mercier, his own supervisor, fellow agent and friend, and could only imagine how he would feel if Jack had done that to him.
Dawn Moon stood, her fingertips splayed on the tabletop. The brown eyes hid behind her long lashes and the expressive lips tightened before she replied. “I have no choice but to trust you if I want to vindicate myself completely, do I?”
“None whatsoever,” Eric agreed. “The trust has to begin now because we’ll be joined at the hip for the duration of this op.” He paused for effect. “In case Bergen wasn’t working alone on this end, you’ll need to stay off the radar. We’re going to my place for the first stage of preparation.”
She looked warily from him to Mercier and back again. “We’ll need to stop by my apartment and pick up a few things.”
“No. We’ll take care of that,” Jack promised. He cleared his throat and looked pointedly at Eric, then at her. “We’ll take care of you.”
“Absolutely,” Eric added. He offered her his most confident smile.
Agent Moon was no fool. She knew where the road paved with good intentions led. She also knew there could be giant potholes and detours along that route.
Chapter 2
Dawn woke with a headache. She needed caffeine in the worst way. Sun streamed through the window. Squinting, she propped up in bed on her elbows. This wasn’t her apartment. Not her room. Where the hell was she?
She was wearing nothing but her black sports bra and panties. When had she ever slept in a bra?
“Oh,” she groaned and collapsed back on the pillow as memory intruded. She was at Vinland’s place, an old federal-style house in one of the more exclusive sections of McLean. Though time was of the essence, he had brought her here for a few hours of sleep before they began their mission in earnest.
She didn’t want to get up and face more questions. He would probably want her entire life story and everything she’d done since kindergarten. There were certain off-the-record incidents she’d just as soon not recall out loud, especially to him.
Bathroom first, then coffee, she decided. She remembered where the john was. Groggy and grumpy, she crawled out of bed and made it across the room, her bare feet all but dragging. She was incredibly tired.
She yanked open the door to the bathroom and froze. Vinland stood in front of the mirror, a towel around his hips, his face half covered with shaving cream, razor suspended as he stared at her. Looking past him, she saw the connecting door to the other bedroom standing open.
Again she groaned and turned around, pulling her door shut. He grabbed it and swept it open again. “Didn’t you sleep at all? You look like hell.”
She glared at him from beneath her lashes and growled, “Yeah, and you’re so beautiful.”
Okay, he was, all lean, corded muscles and beach-boy good looks. But male beauty didn’t interest her at the moment. “Where’s the coffee before I disintegrate?”
“Hallway, go left, downstairs and follow the scent.” His sandy eyebrows lowered. “You’re not sick, are you?”
That question didn’t rate an answer. Of course she was sick. Sick at heart. Bergen’s plan had probably ruined her career. This cloud of suspicion could follow her until she was forced to resign or was fired. Or worse yet, arrested and imprisoned.
She plodded to the door across the room and followed his directions to the kitchen. She was nearly naked, but why bother with more clothes? He had already seen her in her underwear and didn’t seem greatly affected by it. Small wonder about that if she looked like she felt, and she must. He’d even said she looked like hell.
Dawn knew she had no choice but to work with these people, this man in particular. Sure, Vinland struck her as a little too cocky, but the National Security Agency had no place for an agent with a question of treason on her record. She needed to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that Bergen had intended to set her up. They needed her to identify one of the players. That was the only reason she was getting this chance and she knew it.
Even so, she did not plan to assume an attitude of gratitude with these Sextant agents or simply play tagalong while they solved this. She had a job to do, and they might as well realize that from the get-go.
She wanted to do this for a number of reasons. There was the guilt she felt for not having a clue what Bergen had been up to, even though he had given her no reason to suspect him of anything. No matter how many times she replayed last night’s mission in her mind, she could think of nothing that might have alerted her to his intent. Still, she felt a grave personal, and professional, responsibility to ensure that his attempt to sell state secrets did not succeed.
Though she had only known him for a few weeks, Dawn had viewed him as the quintessential agent in charge. All business, no banter, distinguished in both dress and manner, Bergen had neither lorded his seniority over her nor tried to be her friend. He’d simply given her orders and she had obeyed them without question, trusting in what she had been trained to do. Trusting him, simply because he had possessed the experience and the authority to run the operation.
Would she ever be able to obey like that again, without reserve? Not likely. This whole experience could wreck her career in more ways than one.
If the information that Bergen had stolen, ostensibly to sell, remained in terrorist hands long enough to be implemented, it could well be devastating. She had no clue precisely what it was and wasn’t sure she wanted to know, but it had to be critically important to rate this much attention from Sextant.
The delicious beckoning of freshly ground coffee beans perking led her by the nose to his kitchen. She inhaled the scent that might make her human again, poured herself a cup and loaded it with sugar. She loved sugar.
Footsteps behind her indicated Vinland was risking contact again. She downed the remainder of her coffee and refilled the mug, pouring one for him, too.
He reached for the cup, and his fingers brushed hers as he took it from her. Dawn made a fist and struggled to ignore the tingling sensation that spread through her from that lightest of touches. The man was lethally handsome. He even smelled terrific. Could be tough or gentle and knew when to be which, a quality that appealed to all women. Small wonder she reacted the way she did. It was perfectly natural, and she could handle it.
She watched as he opened the cabinet and retrieved a box of doughnuts. Uh-oh, the way to her heart. Dawn squelched a smile. Trust him to intuit her weakness.
They took seats at the table where he proceeded to open the sweets. He didn’t hurry. It was as if he taunted her a little. He lifted a doughnut from the box and held it out as if anticipating that first bite. “Jack called earlier,” he said. “They ran the plates and the car was rented with a bogus ID. He will have ditched it. Soon as it’s found, we’ll have a lead to follow.” Then he took a bite out of a chocolate-covered confection and pointed at her with what was left. “We’ll get him.”
Unable to resist a minute longer, Dawn reached over and snagged what looked like a lemon-filled doughnut. “Right. I’m sure he left a forwarding address in the glove compartment. Or maybe we can call in the psychics.”
Vinland’s brow furrowed as he swallowed and thunked down the remains of his doughnut. “Look, we need to get something straight before we get started.”
“Oh, spare me the drill. I get it. I know you’re in charge and I’m not in the habit of trampling male egos. You lead, boy wonder, and I won’t even protest. I’ll do whatever you say.”
He looked a little taken aback, probably because she wasn’t bowing at his feet for this opportunity.
“All right, then,” he said finally. “Do you want to know what I’m going to do to you?”
That opened her eyes. “Do to me?”
Hi
s boyish grin didn’t sit well with her. “Work with you so you don’t sound and look so American. But first I need to talk to you a little more. Get better acquainted.”
That might have sounded appealing, except for the way he’d said it. “I thought we did that on the way here.” She waved a hand. “So talk.”
“Look at me,” he instructed, taking the seat across the small table from her. “Take my hand.”
“Ha, right. Spare me the lame come-ons, will you?” Dawn scoffed. She didn’t want to touch him and feel that tingle again. Or maybe she wanted it too much. Like a third doughnut she knew she’d better say no to. “Just get on with it and ask what you want to ask.”
He took her hand anyway. Dawn started to retract it, but decided that so far the gesture seemed harmless enough. Maybe he was only trying to put her at ease. If that was what he had in mind, it sure wasn’t working. She tingled in spite of herself. Her skin grew warm, and she was afraid she was blushing all over.
His hand was smooth, the nails clipped straight across and very clean. Calluses ridged the outer edges of his palm and his knuckles were slightly enlarged. All in all, nice hands. Large and warm. Hers felt hot and were probably a little damp.
He gripped her fingers tighter. What was with the hand-holding? If he meant to get any chummier than that, he had another think coming. But when she attempted to pull away, he held her fast, threading his fingers through hers. She glanced up from their joined hands.
His intense look surprised her. The bluest eyes in the world bored into hers as if seeking the secret of the universe. She couldn’t look away. Hypnosis? No, she didn’t feel the least bit woozy. As a matter of fact, the sugared coffee and doughnut were kicking in and the energy from them had perked her up. Or maybe he did that. The old hormones were alive and kicking, no doubt about that.
Yep, Vinland was a great-looking guy. Exactly the kind she wouldn’t trust. She had learned that lesson all too well and twice over. She made herself remember what she’d love to forget.
Her first affair had been with a research assistant in her second year of college. Thomas had had a similar wicked grin, same golden-boy looks as Vinland, same know-it-all attitude, too. She’d found out too late it was a know-them-all attitude and ol’ Tom was keeping score, a dumping offense if she’d ever encountered one.