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Infiltration

Page 9

by Janie Crouch


  He could hear the water running from her bath, and tried to think of every possible other thing in the world except Sophia naked behind that bathroom door.

  Cameron wasn’t sure he’d ever found a task so difficult in his entire life.

  A sharp rap on the room’s other door drew Cameron’s attention. He quickly pulled his shirt over his head and grabbed his SIG from the nightstand.

  “Yeah?” he asked from the door without opening it.

  “It’s Thompson, Mr. Cameron. I’ve got some food for you and Ms. Reardon.”

  Thompson knew Sophia’s name. Cameron wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. He needed to be prepared for either.

  Cameron opened the door and Thompson walked in with a tray of food. Thank God Sophia was in the bathroom, out of sight and earshot.

  “Thanks, man.” Cameron was once again struck by how much Thompson looked and acted like a butler. But he could see how lightly the man moved on his feet and how perfectly balanced he was when carrying the tray and setting it down.

  Cameron had no doubt that Thompson was much more than just a butler. The suspicion was confirmed when he saw the older man glance around the room subtly, taking in all details.

  This man, more than any of the goons Cameron had hung out with in DS-13 for the past eight months, was dangerous. No doubt that was why Mr. Smith kept him around.

  “Something I can help you find?” Cameron asked.

  Thompson looked at Cameron and tipped his head slightly, as if respecting that he had been caught snooping, but not apologizing for it.

  “Will Ms. Reardon be requiring anything?” Thompson asked as he set the tray of food on a small table by the closet.

  Cameron did not want to talk about Sophia with this man. “No, she’s fine.”

  Cameron answered a little too quickly. He cursed silently as he saw that Thompson realized it, too. The last thing he wanted to do was show DS-13, especially this man whom Cameron was beginning to suspect was much higher up in the food chain than he had thought, that he cared about Sophia. They wouldn’t hesitate to use her against him.

  Cameron wandered nonchalantly over to the food. He picked up an apple and took a big bite.

  “I can take care of her just fine, if you know what I mean.” Cameron gave the man a wink. “She’s in the bathroom relaxing in that swimming pool you call a tub. Working out the kinks.”

  Cameron saw Thompson’s eyes narrow in distaste before the man hid his response. Good. Better for Cameron to seem crude and obnoxious than as if he had some sort of attachment to Sophia.

  “Mr. Smith and his other guests have arrived. Mr. Smith would like to meet with you and Ms. Reardon in one hour.”

  Cameron took another bite of his apple. “That’s cool, man. Whatever.” And because it seemed to make Thompson so uncomfortable before, Cameron winked at him again.

  “Yes, well, good. Until then, please stay in your room and keep Ms. Reardon here with you.”

  Thompson turned and made his way out of the room quickly and efficiently.

  Cameron looked over at the elaborate tray of food Thompson had brought in. Fruits, cheeses, meats and breads for sandwiches. Quite the spread. All laid out on a large silver platter with oversize handles.

  Cameron began moving the food, piece by piece, off the tray. Based on what he had observed about Thompson, Cameron was willing to bet there was some sort of surveillance device somewhere on this tray. Once all the food was off the tray and he was able to turn it over, he saw a transmitter. But something about how large it was and how it sat in the handle was a little too obvious to Cameron.

  Sure enough, Cameron kept searching and found it a couple minutes later: a tiny transmitter under the lip of the least descriptive part of the tray, where you would hardly think to look, especially if you found the first device.

  Sneaky little bastard.

  Thompson had almost caught them unawares. Cameron decided to leave the transmitting device where it was, fully functional, since it was sound-only. He and Sophia could use it to their advantage. But the larger, more obvious device, Cameron removed.

  “Screw you, Thompson, and whoever else is listening. I prefer not to have an audience, you perverts,” Cameron said into the piece of equipment. He then threw the transmitter on the ground and stomped on it.

  So now they thought he had no idea they were listening. Good, he had no problem exploiting their overconfidence.

  * * *

  SOPHIA FELT LIKE a new person after her long soak in the tub. She had to put the same clothes back on, so that wasn’t great, but at least her muscles were easing. Somehow being taken hostage by a crime syndicate group tended to make you tense and tight. Go figure.

  Sophia came out of the door, her head wrapped in a towel, ready to boast to Cameron about the miracles of a hot tub. “Hey, seriously, it’s almost like we’re on a...”

  She was cut off by him pushing her back against the wall and kissing her. Thoroughly.

  Her arms, almost of their own accord, traveled up his arms to his shoulders. The towel around her hair came loose then slipped from her head and fell to the floor. Sophia forgot everything but the heat and strength of the kiss.

  She stood up on her tiptoes to get closer and wound her fingers in his hair. She didn’t care where they were anymore or the danger they were facing. She wanted Cameron now and he wanted her. That was all that mattered.

  Cameron’s lips moved over her jaw and up to Sophia’s ear. She shivered with every light kiss he placed. His hands grasped her waist and pulled her closer to him. Sophia found herself melting into him.

  “They’re listening to everything we say,” he murmured almost silently against her ear.

  It took a moment for the words to penetrate. Sophia’s arms fell to her sides. Cold washed over her where moments ago there had been such heat.

  Cameron wasn’t kissing her because he wanted to. He was kissing her to keep her quiet. It was just as effective as the backhand at the warehouse. And just as painful.

  Sophia nodded jerkily. Cameron tried to kiss her again, but she turned her head away. There was no need to kiss her—she got the message: don’t say or do anything stupid.

  Or maybe do anything more stupid than throw herself into a kiss that meant nothing to the other person.

  Sophia nodded again and reached down to get the towel that had fallen from her head. She was so cold. And she needed to be away from Cameron. Immediately.

  “That’s a big tub they have in there.” Sophia didn’t recognize her own voice as she said it, wasn’t even sure how she got the words out of her mouth.

  Thankfully Cameron stepped away from her.

  “There’s some food over on the table, if you’re hungry. Thompson brought it while you were in the bathroom.” Cameron pointed toward the table.

  So that’s how they could hear now but couldn’t before—something on the tray. Sophia nodded, not quite making eye contact with Cameron—she couldn’t stand to do that yet, not after the fool she’d just made of herself—and went to the table.

  Although she’d totally lost her appetite, Sophia forced herself to eat. She chewed bite after tasteless bite, forcing the needed nutrients into her system.

  But damn it, she felt like an idiot. Cameron was undercover. She needed to get that through her evidently very thick skull. Arresting this Mr. Smith guy and getting back Ghost Shell were the most important things to him.

  And her safety, she had to give him that, too. But he was undercover; nothing he said or did should be taken at face value.

  “I’m glad you liked the tub,” Cameron finally said from across the room.

  “Yeah, I could definitely get used to that sort of luxury,” Sophia responded. Cameron nodded encouragingly and spun his finger in a circle, gesturing for her to continue that line of conversation.

  “Someday I want to own a giant tub like that one,” Sophia continued as she ate another bite of a sandwich from the tray.

  Cameron started talking,
making up a crazy story about a hot tub he had once snuck into with his brothers while in high school and the shenanigans that ensued. At least Sophia thought he was making it up. She knew Cameron had two brothers and a sister, so maybe it was true.

  Without ever missing a beat with his story, Cameron walked over to Sophia and led her away from the tray to over near the bed. He let out a loud guffaw as he finished the story and Sophia laughed along with him.

  “Soph,” he said in a low voice that wasn’t quite a whisper, pulling her closer. “Smith is here. Ghost Shell is probably with him.”

  “Okay. That’s good, right?” she whispered.

  “Don’t whisper,” he told her in that same low tone. “Just speak very low, if you don’t want them to hear. Whispers are actually easier for surveillance equipment to pick up than very low tones.”

  Sophia nodded.

  Cameron brought his voice back up to normal range. “Mr. Smith wants to meet us in an hour. So it’s probably good that you went ahead and took a bath already.”

  Cameron looked at Sophia, gesturing with his head that she should say something. “O-okay...” she said tentatively.

  Cameron leaned closer, dropping his voice so the surveillance couldn’t hear. “Remember, you want this meeting. That’s how I convinced Fin to let you come here, by telling him you had information to give to Smith.”

  Sophia nodded. “Yeah, good.” She said in a louder voice, “That’s what I’m here for, to meet Smith. I just want to make this exchange and get out of here.”

  Cameron nodded with enthusiasm.

  “I don’t like the mountains,” she continued. “I’m more of a beach person.” That was totally not true, but seemed like a reasonable thing to say.

  “Yeah, me, too,” Cameron said. “Why don’t we go on a little vacation after all this?”

  Sophia had to remind herself that Cameron wasn’t really talking to her; this was just part of his undercover story. She refused to allow herself to wish he wanted to spend time with her. When this was finished, he’d be gone again, just like five years ago.

  “Yeah, sure.” There was decidedly less enthusiasm in her tone.

  Cameron’s head cocked to the side as he studied Sophia with questioning eyes. She didn’t dare explain to him what was really bothering her, even if there wasn’t a bug in the room.

  A knock on the door saved the moment. She saw Cameron reach for the gun he evidently had tucked in the back of his jeans. He walked silently to the door, gesturing for her to move back toward the bathroom.

  “Yes?” he asked without opening the door.

  Something was murmured that Sophia couldn’t quite catch, but whatever it was caused Cameron to relax and put his gun away. He opened the door, and someone handed him a package.

  “Here, this is for you.” Cameron tossed the box onto the bed.

  Sophia frowned and walked over to it. Pushing the tissue paper to the side she found clothes: a pair of stylishly cut black pants, and a soft gray sweater. Undergarments, socks and shoes completed the outfit. All of them were the perfect size for her.

  Sophia looked up at Cameron. “What? Where did this come from?”

  Cameron pointed over at the tray to remind her they were being listened to. “Beats me. I didn’t have anything to do with it. But I guess you couldn’t meet Mr. Smith in my T-shirt, now could you? So it’s a good thing.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.” Sophia turned toward the bathroom, more disturbed than she cared to admit. Did Smith just keep women’s clothes sitting around? Probably not. Which meant someone with a very good eye had taken her measurements and gotten clothes up to this remote location pretty darn quickly.

  Somehow the arrival of these clothes, more than any of the other things—much more dangerous things—that had happened to her over the past two days, made it hit home the power of the people Cameron was dealing with. They had resources. They had manpower. And they had a scary attention to detail.

  Plus, they were murderers.

  As Cameron came into the bathroom with her and started providing details about Ghost Shell in a hushed tone, Sophia clutched the box of clothes to her chest and listened as best she could. When Cameron had given her all the info he could, he left, closing the door behind him so Sophia could dress.

  She did so, hoping the clothes provided by a murdering crime syndicate wouldn’t be the last ones she ever put on.

  Chapter Ten

  There was no more Cameron could do to prepare Sophia, even though he knew it wasn’t enough. Time was up. Eight months undercover had all led up to this.

  And it was all out of his hands and completely in Sophia’s.

  Cameron knew that wasn’t quite accurate, but it certainly felt like it as they followed Thompson down an extended hallway of the large house to a set of rooms in the back. By their very location, the rooms were less accessible, discouraging any wandering guests from finding them. Not hidden, exactly, just not advertised. And something about Thompson just kept nagging at Cameron.

  Cameron watched Sophia from the corner of his eye as she walked beside him. She was glancing around nervously, as if looking for exits. She rubbed her fists against the legs of her black pants. Cameron wished he could catch her hand and hold it, but knew strolling in like lovers was not the way they should meet Smith.

  Cameron looked over at Sophia and smiled. Sophia gnawed on her lip a moment more before taking a deep breath and straightening her shoulders.

  “You okay?” Cam whispered.

  “Doesn’t really make a difference now, does it?” Sophia said without looking at him.

  Not exactly the reassuring answer he was hoping for.

  Cameron tried to go through multiple possible scenarios in his head. What he would do if Sophia freaked out. How he could help her keep it together. Their best route of escape if they had to run. Weaponless and outnumbered, none of the options were good. Cameron prayed Sophia wouldn’t panic. But they were walking into a situation that would make even the most seasoned undercover agent wary. He could only imagine the terror Sophia was feeling.

  Again, not reassuring.

  Thompson led them to a door at the farthest end of the hallway. Cameron pretended not to watch as the older man used a card to swipe a lock on the wall. Cameron wondered who else might have a key card to this office.

  Cameron looked over at Sophia again. She was no longer clenching and unclenching her small fists, so that was good. Thompson opened the door for them and Cameron gestured for Sophia to walk in ahead of him. Showtime.

  They walked into the expansive office, Cameron taking in as much as he could about the room without actually looking as if he was. Sophia made no such pretense. Most of the walls were lined with deep cherry bookshelves and cabinetry. The far wall was made up of windows, showcasing the wondrous view of nature outside. A large desk took up the area near the window, with a black luxury office chair behind it. The chair was currently facing the windows, away from the desk.

  Slowly the large chair swiveled around so the man in it was facing Cameron and Sophia. There was no doubt this man was related to Fin—his build, facial structure and coloring were all similar, yet he was older and flabbier than Fin. This was it; the moment Cameron had waited over a year for.

  “I’m Mr. Smith,” the man said in a somewhat squeaky voice that belied his overweight size. His Yankee accent was thick. His eyes small, close-set, almost beady. “Go ahead and sit down.”

  Cameron’s lips pressed tight and his shoulders slumped as he sat. This man was one of the top members of DS-13 and had eluded law enforcement for years? Somehow he just wasn’t what Cameron had expected. But perhaps nothing short of an absolute monster would’ve lived up to Cameron’s expectations.

  Regardless of whether the man fit the image Cameron had built in his head, Cameron was tempted to arrest him right there, everything else be damned. Omega could figure out another way to get Ghost Shell. Only the thought of Sophia trapped in the middle of all this halted him. Cameron
settled back into his seat, clenching his jaw.

  Thompson came around to stand next to the desk, close to Smith’s side. Out of the corner of his eye Cameron noticed Smith glancing at Thompson and Thompson giving a slight nod. Immediately Cameron was on high alert. Obviously some sort of signal had passed between the two men, but what did it mean? Cameron wished to God that Thompson hadn’t done a weapons check back at the room. Cameron felt naked without his SIG. Were he and Sophia about to be assassinated while Cameron was able to do nothing?

  But neither Smith nor Thompson made any aggressive moves. Instead, Smith settled back in his chair and Thompson remained watchful and alert where he stood. Maybe Cameron had imagined the entire thing.

  Cameron leaned forward in his chair and offered Smith his hand to shake, although he really wanted to break the offending hand. “Mr. Smith, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” Cameron managed not to choke on the words.

  “Likewise, Cam,” the older man answered as he shook Cameron’s hand with his large sweaty paws. Cameron resisted the urge to wipe his palms on the legs of his pants.

  Mr. Smith continued, “I realize you’ve worked with DS-13 for a long time, Cam, without meeting me. I hope you understand the necessary security precautions.” Smith glanced at Thompson again.

  “Oh, sure, Mr. Smith. Everybody has to be careful in this day and age.” Cameron nodded enthusiastically, trying to be friendly.

  “Yes, well, I have enemies on multiple sides,” Smith continued in his squeaky, accented voice. “I try to always take time to thoroughly check out anyone who works for me. But I must admit you have arranged a lot of good deals for me in the past year.”

  Cam smiled. “Lucrative for us both.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Another glance at Thompson.

  Whatever silent communication was occurring between Smith and Thompson was causing alarms in Cameron’s head. It was as if Smith kept asking Thompson for permission to talk, or checking to make sure what he said was okay. Which made absolutely no sense whatsoever.

  Unless...

 

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