Love Undercover

by Nana Prah

  Sarita stretched with a fake yawn. “I’m going to bed. I can’t sleep on this couch. It’s too uncomfortable.” Not that her bed was that much better.

  “Come on, Cerez,” Spencer groaned. “I thought we could hang. You make working the night shift more interesting. They should leave you out here for the rest of your stay. What do you think, Carter?”

  Instead of answering his colleague’s question, Carter went to the first room to peer inside. She got to her feet and headed to her cell. She hovered in her doorway until he reached her.

  “Have a good night,” he whispered.

  “You, too.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to stay out here? I’ll be back after my break and we can all sit and talk some more.” He flicked his head towards Spencer. “Just like him, I enjoy your company.”

  Clasping her hands behind her back prevented her from grabbing and dragging him into her room. “I’d better get some sleep. And besides, I don’t think I’d be able to keep my hands off of you.”

  His pupils dilated, causing her mouth to go dry.

  “If you change your mind, your door is unlocked.”

  She wouldn’t.

  She’d stay in her room until morning and when they met tomorrow she’d pretend nothing ever happened. Just like she intuitively knew he would.

  The nature of their work didn’t allow personal issues to get in the way. “Good night, Carter.”

  “It’s Matthew, Matt,” he whispered. “But shhhhh.” He put his index finger over the lips which had minutes ago caressed hers.

  She beamed a smile. “Good night, Matt.”

  “Have sweet dreams, Sarita.” He walked to the next cell and continued with his head check.

  She closed the door, making sure it didn’t click and lay on the bottom bunk. Tonight, if she were able to fall asleep, she’d dream again of the man her soul had chosen to love. Only this time, in her dreams, she’d call him by his first name, Matthew.

  Chapter 11

  Sarita left her cell before the guards changed over in the morning. Her plan to be cool and aloof was ruined by the smile she couldn’t keep at bay when she reached the desk. “Good morning.”

  Carter glanced up from his clipboard. One day she’d find out what they wrote on those papers. It probably acted as a prop to make them look busy. “Good morning. How was your night?”

  Spencer spoke before she had the chance to answer. “Back in your room, Cerez. Your twenty four hours of freedom is up.”

  She harrumphed. “Freedom would be me walking out the door with you guys when you leave.”

  Spencer shook his head, grinning, but pointed to her cell.

  She couldn’t interpret Matt’s reaction. His face became an expressionless slate of granite. What was on that gorgeous mind of his? Last night’s moments of intimacy had been all she could think about. Did he have the same urge to finish what they’d started?

  Carter moved around the desk to meet her. “Back into your cell.” His voice came out like a soft, satiny caress. Instead of arguing, she pivoted on her heel and walked to her room. He followed.

  They reached for the doorknob at the same time. When their hands touched, a shock coursed through her. He recoiled.

  She extended her hand to touch him again, but let it drop before reaching the hard wall of his chest. A chest she’d had the pleasure of being pressed against last night.

  A slight shake of her head brought her back to the present. Remembering who and where she was had to be her first priority.

  “Static electricity?” she offered.

  “I could believe it if we were in winter, but early fall?”

  “Stranger things have happened.” Like us hooking up in the blind spot.

  “I guess. I’m not sure what’s going on between us, Sarita.”

  What could she say in response? Asking her to explain gravity to a four year old would be an easier feat than coming up with a response to the question in his eyes. “I’m not supposed to tell you this, but I’ll be back tonight, so I’ll see you then.”

  “Have a good day, Matt.”

  His eyes twinkled when she whispered his first name. He closed the door, leaving her to stare at his broad back.

  Why did she feel dejected? Had she seriously expected a grand gesture of love? An everlasting pledge to be with her forever; even when she went to Columbia? Her ridiculous musings had her heart seeking a promise that he would find and marry her. It couldn’t be possible that two people shared such passionate, all-consuming kisses and not be in love. Could it?

  She glowered at the stack of romance novels. “I call bullshit on that one.”

  ***

  At lunchtime the outer door opened. The place fell silent as everyone turned their heads as one.

  In walked a pretty, petite, young Asian woman escorted by a guard. Sarita recognized Rhee Hana from her pictures.

  She’d expected a badass attitude to resonate from the girl. Instead, the pallor of her skin gave the indication of a true experience of fear.

  Hana glanced over her shoulder at the door as it clicked closed. For all of them the sound represented the finality of their lives in the United States.

  The escorting officer and Greene, one of the guards on duty, spoke.

  Then Greene hollered at Gladys to get a set of bed sheets and a start-up pack--consisting of a mini deodorant, toothpaste, toothbrush, and a tiny hotel sample of soap. Sarita was of the opinion that since they gave away such tiny things in the pack, a teensy bottle of rum would have taken the edge off and invited them to the unit in grand style.

  Greene led Hana to the room she’d share with Sarita.

  Sarita would’ve given her last chocolate bar to see the reaction on her face when she stepped into the cell. The girl came back out and Gladys showed her where to get a tray. Hana left the food untouched when she sat down.

  The inmates drifted back to their rooms, one by one, as they finished eating. Sarita wrapped her bread in a napkin and plopped it down her shirt, ensuring that the guards didn’t see. Other than commissary snacks, they were forbidden to take food into the room. But Hana would be hungry once the shock of being in prison wore off, if it ever did.

  She waited until Hana walked into the room before following her. No need for the type of bed confusion she’d had with Lucinda. “Yours is the top bunk.”

  Hana didn’t say a word.

  “Let me show you how to make your bed.” Sarita unfolded the sheet. “You tie the edges of the sheet together under the mattress like this. That way it doesn’t become untucked when you sleep. This has to be one of the coolest things I’ve learned while I’ve been in here. That and tweezing eyebrows with string.” She paused her rambling to look at the scared girl. “I’m Sarita Cerez. What’s your name?”

  The anger flaring in Hana’s eyes when she looked at her almost propelled Sarita backward. The brat then nimbly climbed up onto the top bunk and faced the wall.

  If Sarita hadn’t known the story behind the girl’s imprisonment, she’d have been offended. Instead she swallowed the urge to burst into song and dance. Within two days, Rhee Hana would be on a flight to South Korea. Sarita would never again take for granted unlocking a door, showering, eating, and releasing gas when she wanted.

  “I noticed you didn’t eat lunch. I brought you some bread and margarine. You can have one of my candy bars if you want. I’ll leave it on the window seat.” Still no answer.

  When the doors opened for afternoon rec, Hana gave no indication of wanting to leave the room so Sarita stayed in. Chatting with the women she’d never see again in a few days would’ve been more entertaining than being ignored. However, her mission consisted of this inconsolable girl.

  Sarita fixated her vision on the Washington skyline. Her thoughts revolved around Carter who would be an agent soon. Pride warmed her heart.

  He’d been too sharp for her comfort last night. Thinking about every word before she spoke had been draining. A couple of times during thei
r conversation her gut had twisted, sure he suspected something about her. Nothing definitive, but his intuition had been alerted.

  She hadn’t given him any hints as to her true identity, other than having a friend as an agent, which was the absolute truth. The diversity of Washington allowed people to make contacts on all levels.

  If put on a lie detector last night, she would’ve passed without a sweat. The answers hadn’t been completely honest, but they hadn’t been overt lies either.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw Hana flip over and look at her. The rage in her eyes had been replaced with wariness.

  “When did you last eat?” Sarita asked.

  To her surprise the girl spoke. “Yesterday morning.”

  “You must be hungry.”

  Silence.

  “Dinner isn’t until five thirty.” Sarita walked to the door and looked through the glass at the clock in the rec room. “That’s two hours from now. I told you there’s bread and a candy bar here for you. If you want it, come and get it. Don’t expect me to feed you.”

  The girl had been brought here as a punishment. Why not give her a little bit of a hard time so the lesson would sink in? It might be fun.

  Hana climbed down, laid the contraband bread and chocolate onto the bed, and back up she went.

  Sarita frowned, jealous of the girl’s dexterity. Hana polished off the food.

  “Sorry, no beverages, but the water is clean. You can drink from the tap.”

  Hana scrunched her face u[ before climbing down. She turned on the faucet and washed her hands with the big bar of soap Sarita kept at the sink until it was time to shower.

  Hana appeared to “man up” by pulling her shoulders back before cupping her hands and bringing the water to her nose to smell and then taste. She gulped down handfuls. When she finished drinking her fill, she wiped her hands on her unflattering-to-everyone yellow ICE uniform.

  Sarita bit the inside of her cheek to squelch the impending laughter when the girl looked at the toilet. “When was the last time you peed?”

  Once again the silent treatment prevailed.

  “Just pee. You can’t hold it in forever. I’ll look out the door’s window.”

  “It is not only urine.” Hana’s bowed head spoke volumes about her embarrassment.

  Damn. “Can it wait unit five-thirty? I’ll go to dinner first and you can, well you know, and then come out when you finish.”

  Hana’s dark straight hair flew about her face when she shook her head.

  Sarita shut her eyes and filled her lungs. Probably the last unscented breath she’d take for at least a half an hour as she waited for the smell to dissipate. She hoped it wouldn’t make her gag.

  Not that it’d been top priority on her list of things to do, but she’d never smelled an Asian woman’s shit before. She recalled how bad Monica’s poop had been. Her gas even worse. It didn’t help that her old cellmate ate everything in abundance, especially eggs. Sarita couldn’t judge. Her own could be considered just as lethal. Must be the jail food because it hadn’t been as bad on the outside.

  Sometimes she and Monica would have gas wars. They’d laugh their asses off. Boy, did she miss that beautiful, breast-implanted Namibian.

  “Well, get to it.” Sarita moved to the door and watched the activities in the rec room. Gladys stood at the dryer, folding uniforms for the last six rooms. Her room would have theirs cleaned tomorrow.

  Sarita heard the first plop into the toilet. She tried to locate Greene and Donnelly but couldn’t see them. They must be watching television.

  As she looked out she also kept an eye on the interior room’s reflection off the glass making sure Hana had no intention of coming up behind her to attack.

  Not that she considered the short girl as any sort of a threat, but Sarita stayed safe by never underestimating anyone. Another plop. Sarita frowned as it registered that no scent accompanied Hana’s defecation. A pleasant surprise.

  The flush of the toilet indicated that Hana had just survived what had to be one of the most mortifying moments of her life.

  As Hana washed her hands, Sarita moved to the window seat.

  The girl’s face resembled a plum tomato when she caught Sarita’s eye and said, “Thank you for privacy and for bread and chocolate.”

  Sarita waved a hand in dismissal. “You’re welcome. What’s your name?”

  “Rhee Hana.”

  “Welcome to cell number four, Rhianna.” Sarita intentionally merged her first and last names.

  “All Americans do this to my name. It’s Rhee and Hana. Separate.”

  She smiled for the first time. The occurrence of people butchering her name must tickle her.

  “Sorry. Rhee Hana. Am I supposed to call you Rhee or Hana?”

  “Rhee is my family name.” She frowned and her slim shoulders slumped. “Hana is my given name. Call me Hana.”

  In two fluid movements, she leapt to the top bunk.

  Sarita shook her head in wonder. “How do you do that?”

  “Many years of gymnastics training.”

  After practicing martial arts for over twenty years, Sarita couldn’t be considered anywhere near as fluid at climbing the bunk. With kicking and punching combinations, she’d become as graceful as any ballerina, but climbing exceeded her natural capabilities. The climbing exercises had been a struggle during her agent training. With indomitable perseverance, she’d made it through the wall-scaling aspect of the fitness test. She shivered at the memory of the number of times she practiced going up that damn wall instead of setting fire to it.

  “I’m from Columbia. Where are you from?”

  Back to quiet.

  “It’s a standard question here. After asking your name, we then ask where you’re from, and then why you’re in here. Most of us are being deported so we’re interested in why and how a person landed in ICE.” She cocked her head. “ICE. Immigration and Customs Enforcement. We belong to them until they ship us off.”

  Hana stared out the window as if seeing it for the first time. She then climbed off the bed and stood in front of it. Sarita moved out of the way when the girl’s hand reached out and touched the glass.

  Sarita understood how she felt. The outside world lay so close you could touch it, but only through an impenetrable pane-glass window.

  Giving Hana peace to struggle with her thoughts she sat crossed legged on her bed reminiscing about Matt. As soon as she got the chance, she’d kiss the freckles sprinkled across his adorable nose.

  Would he regret sharing his personal information and kissing her last night? An involuntary sigh escaped as she recalled the encounter. He’d broken some major rules and she wondered if he felt guilty.

  She’d do it again in a heartbeat. They were drawn to each other like bumble bees to a sweet smelling flower. Attraction aside, would he ever accept and forgive her deception?

  Chapter 12

  Sarita gave her charge the rundown of the unit’s daily activities before the doors opened for dinner.

  “You can shower at any of the three rec times. Feel free to use my flip-flops until you order your own from the commissary. I don’t recommend standing on the shower floor without them. It’s mandatory that you leave the room in full uniform. The shower stalls are huge so you can change while you’re in there.”

  Hana paid rapt attention. The door clicked allowing them to leave the room. “Each tray is filled with food when it comes up from the kitchen,” Sarita informed the girl. “There’s no choice here. What you get is what you eat. Each day the menu is different.”

  They each picked up a tray and a cup of over-sweetened colored water. Hana stood so close to her back that if Sarita had stopped short, she would have gotten food dumped all over her.

  Sitting at a table with Gladys and Marianna, Sarita introduced them to Hana. According to the rules, mealtime had to be a silent affair so they all dug in. Hana ate the bread, leaving the fake meat and soggy green things they liked to pass for vegetables alone
.

  Five minutes later a knock sounded on the main door. Who would be the poor soul to be ingested by the unit? Greene opened the door. A lone ICE officer entered.

  The air grew thick with anticipation as they waited for the man to speak.

  “Dernov, Gladys,” he barked.

  All eyes, except Hana’s, stared at Gladys.

  The violet-eyed woman sat stone still. Sarita kicked her under the table to shake off her shock.

  “Dernov, Gladys.”

  She stood. “That’s me.” Her voice shook.

  “Pack your things.”

  She slumped down onto the seat. “Where am I going?”

  The ICE officer’s upper lip curled in what Sarita presumed to be disgust. In here, orders were to be followed without question. All of the women awaited an answer so he couldn’t ignore the question. “To your husband in Baltimore,” he spat.

  The place erupted with the inmate’s shouting. A year and a month of prison life and her final reward was the freedom to live with her husband in the US.

  Sarita moved to Gladys’s side to support her from falling off the seat as tears streamed down her face. “You’d better go pack,” Sarita warned. “Before they change their mind and make you stay.”

  The words revved Gladys into gear. She ran with her head held high toward her room, knowing it would be for the last time.

  Greene and Donnelly initiated crowd control by sending everyone to their cells with their dinners left unfinished.

  When Sarita and Hana were securely locked inside, Hana asked, “Why is everyone excited?”

  Sarita felt an indelible smile etch her face. “Gladys has been here for over a year and now they’re letting her back into the US.”

  The girl’s expression morphed as her small slanted eyes widened. Sarita hated to be the heavy, but she couldn’t allow her to think she’d go free to roam about the country again. “I don’t know your story, but I’m pretty sure it won’t happen the same way for you, Hana. I’m taking an educated guess, but I don’t think you’re from an Eastern European country.”