“I need your help. Classified. Only you and I will know anything about it.”
“And Barrett.”
Troy simply stared at her, saying nothing.
“Not Barrett.” She cleared her throat. “Protocol requires crew leaders to be canceled. It also requires Barrett to be read into every op. You’re saying rules are being broken, Troy, and rules are never broken at the Agency.”
“Are you complaining?”
“Finding it hard to believe.” She looked at the door, expecting medics to rush in and Troy to admit his cruelty. Then glanced at him and saw his amusement.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you the sky is blue.” He sighed impatiently. “Your crew is one short, and I’m stepping in to oversee your ops for the near future. Barrett wants me to keep an eye on you, and I need to be close for my investigation. Agents are being targeted, and you and me, we’re going to find out who’s behind this.”
Lucy was having a hard time understanding.
Troy put his hands on her chair’s armrests and pressed his forehead to hers. “No cancellation. Not if I have anything to say about it.”
Relief warred with disbelief. He had to be lying. “Why would you do this?” It made no sense.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Damn right it matters.” Lucy couldn’t read him. She pushed him away from her, stood and slapped him across the face. “You let me believe I was being canceled!”
“You deserved it,” Troy said. “You knowingly broke protocol and put the Agency in danger.”
How like him to act the robot and expect everyone to serve the almighty Agency mission no matter the circumstances. “Raven was shot. The shooter was on the run. When I caught him, it was him or me. I chose me.”
“I don’t believe you.” Troy pushed her back down into the chair, leaning over her, the full force of his anger unleashed. “I think you got angry. He’d killed Raven. He might as well have killed you. You knew the consequences of losing an agent. You made him suffer. I saw the blood on your gear. You enjoyed the kill.”
That wasn’t true. Lucy wasn’t like that. “I fought for my life.”
“You should have restrained him. Brought him in to interrogate, or at least his body for identification. Now we don’t know who ordered him to Budapest.”
“I have his DNA all over my gear. If he’s in the system, we’ll ID him.”
“That’s a big if. You broke protocol.”
“From you, that’s a big joke.” Then she realized she was focusing on the wrong thing. She wasn’t being canceled. The other crew leaders weren’t dead. She felt no relief. There was only a horrible hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach.
He stepped away from her, turning his back. “Our ranks would be weakened with the loss of four additional agents, and there’s no evidence you, or the other crew leaders did anything wrong.”
“I didn’t.” Lucy took all safety precautions with her crew and had the reputation of being a stickler for it. Troy had trained her to be that way.
“Until we know what the failure is, it has been decided cancellation for protocol’s sake is foolish.”
“Decided by who? You?”
“Barrett signed off on my decision,” he said.
Her hand stung from slapping him, and the pain wasn’t fading.
“It’s midnight,” he said. “Barrett is sleeping, so I’m postponing your debrief until oh six hundred.”
“Why aren’t you doing it?”
“Not my call. Barrett is debriefing all five crew leaders to make sure it’s not leadership failure.”
Lucy glared at him. “What do you think?”
“Oh, it’s your fault, all right.” Troy pulled the scrambler out of his pocket. “I just won’t allow you to be canceled over it.”
Lucy stared at him, suddenly unsure of herself. “You want me to believe you’re looking out for me.” The thought of thanking him for sparing her life made her skin crawl. She couldn’t do it.
“I am.”
“Like you did in the hotel room with the cartel, when you knew I was innocent.” He might be the last thing she thought of when her head hit the pillow at night and the first thing she thought of when she woke, but their affair was long dead because Troy didn’t love, he used.
“I had my job to do.”
Her mum had always said you love the person you think you deserve. Maybe Troy was right. Maybe Lucy hated herself. “You took my freedom instead of my life and I’m supposed to thank you.”
He flipped the scrambler in the air and caught it. “We have one more minute and then they’ll notice they can’t hear us in here. If you’re done walking down memory lane, I have an assignment for you.” He handed her an audio bug device the size of an earring. “I need you hide that on Barrett’s desk. If security detects it, there’s a good chance it will lead back to me and you, so hide it well.”
Lucy snorted. “Her office is monitored more than Fort Knox and her secretary never leaves her desk.”
“You can do it. You have to. I need to know what Barrett knows about these agent deaths. She’s keeping me in the dark. If she’s under orders to keep me there, so be it, but I need to know someone is at the helm here.”
“And you’d rather it be you? Are you staging a coup, Troy?”
“I’m protecting all of us.”
Lucy snorted. “Yeah, because that’s just how you roll. I’m not getting involved. It’s against protocol. In the real world, they’d call it treason, but we all know niceties like honor and integrity are for chumps, right? It’s protocol we all genuflect to here.”
“There’s no time for one of your sermons, Lucy. You will plant the bug because you need me to stay alive.”
“Excuse me?”
“Barrett has decided you’re involved in these deaths.”
Lucy knew there had to be a catch. “You set me up. This is your way of forcing me to help you.”
“It’s a happy coincidence.”
“Why can’t you pick on some other poor bastard?” She struggled to fend off a sense of doom. “Why choose me?”
“Because you’re my best agent, now stop complaining. I’ll help you.” He glanced at his watch. “Time’s almost up. Any more gripes?”
Gripes. As if she were a teenager complaining about an inadequate allowance. “Do you feel any remorse for what you did to me in Colombia?”
Troy stared at the scrambler. “Every day,” he replied, almost too quietly to hear. “But I’d do it again for reasons I can’t reveal.”
“Classified.” Lucy glared at the listening device, so tiny in his hand. “You do like your secrets.” She looked away from him and flinched when she heard him click the scrambler off-line.
* * *
Troy watched Lucy struggle with whatever private demons wrested her attention. She was handling the news better than he’d hoped. He hadn’t lied when he said she was the Agency’s best asset, and this interview only supported his belief. Unlike other agents, Lucy’s survival mattered. She could never know why, but he and Barrett understood all too well, and he needed her now. A deafening siren echoed throughout the facility, announcing another agent down.
Lucy lifted her hands in the air. “I didn’t do it.”
Down in the training area, Troy saw recruits and agents alike react with trepidation, chattering among themselves. Two dead agents in one day had never happened before. Ever. Something was happening at the Agency, right under his nose, and no matter how hard he dug, Troy couldn’t see it. He needed a fresh perspective.
“Let’s go.” The look she gave him said she’d rather see him dead, but she was willing to wait for that privilege. Whatever it took, he thought, as long as she did what she was told. These deaths were either Agency incompetence—best-case scenario—or something worse. It was that something worse that had him worried.
When they got out to the hall, people were milling about, talking in furious whispers. Another agent dead? He could tell Lucy was
thinking about the near-impossible task he’d given her. They hurried to the elevators, hit Barrett’s floor button and remained silent. He would distract the secretary and Lucy would have maybe thirty seconds to get in and out. She could do it. It’s what she was trained for.
The elevator doors opened and Barrett’s secretary was standing behind her desk. No smile, no greeting, no anything. Troy thought Janice must be as old as dirt. She made a living as a fly on the wall for the directors of the Agency, past and present. As with any information treasure trove, she was a great asset and necessary vulnerability. She had to know there was no retirement plan that didn’t include the proverbial ice floe—that is, unless she had a backup plan. Troy did, and he liked to think she did, also. He could imagine Janice squirreling away a cache of secrets, keeping a fatal “accident” at bay.
He indicated Barrett’s office. “Boss lady in?”
“She’s at a meeting off-site. Very hush-hush.” Janice looked between Troy and Lucy. “I’d think you’d be downstairs with the rest of them. Another agent down. Anything you can tell me about that?” Troy leaned on her desk and shrugged his shoulders. Janice sat and gave him her full attention.
“You know even if I knew something,” he said, “which I don’t, I couldn’t tell you.” He knew Lucy stood off to the side, trying to blend. As if she ever could. “Lucy? Make me and Janice a cup of coffee, will you?”
“No, no.” Janice shook her head, obviously distressed. “I couldn’t possibly have her do that. You’ve had a horrible day, Lucy. Let me get the coffee. Sit, sit.” She indicated the chair next to her desk, then she swatted Troy’s leg. “And since when do I allow you to sit on my desk? Go. If you need to sit, sit there.” She pointed toward the wall. Troy stood.
Janice turned toward the coffee machine as Lucy took the opportunity to slip into Barrett’s office. Troy hovered. The security camera affixed to the wall turned and zoomed in on him. By the time Janice turned toward Lucy to ask how she wanted her coffee prepared, Lucy was in and back out of the office. The security camera zoomed in on her.
“Cream and sugar, dear?”
“Janice, I’m antsy enough already. Still haven’t calmed down from my op.”
“Oh, yes. Sorry to hear about Raven. I liked her. And sweetie, I’m glad they decided to rethink protocol.” Her smile was kind. “I always liked you, too.”
The unexpected show of sympathy from Janice noticeably shook Lucy up. Troy thought she was about to cry. It unsettled him, forcing him to admit just how much pressure she’d been under today. He’d been so mad at her. First because he thought she’d died on him, and then because she had almost died on him. He needed to cut her some slack until she got her bearings back. Lucy off the rails was useless to him.
“You know, Janice, I think I need to get Lucy to her quarters. She looks a bit pale, don’t you think?”
Janice put the creamer down and pressed the back of her hand on Lucy’s forehead. “No fever.” She smiled at Lucy. “Too much excitement, I think.”
Lucy was struggling, he could tell, but Troy wasn’t sure how much of it was real. She was a consummate actress, after all. All agents were trained to be. “I think I’ll take a pass on the coffee, too. Sorry for the bother, but you’re right. I need to see whose op went bad.”
Janice nodded quickly. “Go, go. If I were you, I’d do the same. Do you want me to let Barrett know you came calling?” She lifted a brow, looking at Troy.
“Don’t bother.” He nodded toward the security cameras. “She’s probably being informed as we speak. I’ll come back. I just wanted to know if she had any information before I confronted the crew coming in hot.” He indicated the coffee machine. “That was a good idea, though, wasn’t it?” He smiled and was gratified to see her smile back.
“Come visit when it’s not so busy around here,” she said.
Troy led the way to the elevator, feeling a sense of triumph. He’d known Lucy could do it. Soon he’d know what Barrett knew and then maybe he could get to the bottom of these deaths.
Chapter Three
Lucy and Troy hustled to the elevator, eager to get to the transport bay. When the doors opened, she saw medics taking their time bagging the body. She recognized the crew leader, a bastard named Troll. He was a hulking mass of aggression and had missed her and Troy’s arrival because he was busy yelling at his team, spit flying, every other word an expletive. Troll grabbed a crewmate’s lapel—guy named Dobson, a wiry young thing—and wound up to punch. Dobson pushed back, trying to stymie the blow, but Troll outweighed him. Dobson ducked and flashed a knife.
Troy caught Troll’s haymaker midswing and then kicked Dobson’s knife out of his hand as he took Troll to the ground. Troy’s boot rested on his neck before Troll knew what hit him. Lucy watched the whole thing as she approached the group, trying to see if she could recognize the body.
Mountford. Handsome guy. Liked his women.
Troll was clawing at Troy’s boot, flopping around on the floor. When he started to lose consciousness, he panicked and reached frantically for Dobson’s knife by his hip. Lucy stepped on his hand, pinning it and the knife. He convulsed in pain as she put more weight on his hand. Troy kicked Troll upside the head and it was over. He was unconscious.
She lifted a brow. “That’s going to make it hard to debrief him.”
“He’ll revive by morning, happy to hear he escaped cancellation.” Troy flagged down a hovering medic. “Get him to sick bay. Under restraints.”
Without another look at Lucy, he left, following the medics and the bodies to the elevator. She dragged her fingers through her hair, pushing it off her face. She was going to live. Didn’t see that coming. But if Troy had his way, it wouldn’t be for long. He hadn’t given her time to think before he was dragging her into his plot. Whenever she looked over her shoulder, she expected to see security guards instead of medics. She didn’t know which was worse, death or interrogation. She’d get both if that bug was discovered.
She couldn’t think about it. It was past midnight and she had her debrief at 0600. She should be in her quarters, trying to sleep. She should plan what she was going to tell Barrett tomorrow. Check on her crew.
But she didn’t want to sleep. She kept thinking about the torn panties she’d left behind in the elevator, and that everyone would know she had sex with Troy before the day died. It was humiliating, and empowering, and it was screwing with her mind. She was alive because Troy had stepped in and stopped the cancellation. She was grateful for that. She was.
But she’d be a fool to ignore his comment that she and the rest of the leaders were too valuable to lose. The implied threat, of course, was that she needed to stay valuable. He’d set her up to be his bitch. She had a feeling breaking into Barrett’s office was only the beginning, and she already felt stretched thin with stress, near invisible with it.
She looked around the cavernous garage, metal and pavement, so large a person could work on one side for years and never meet those who worked on the other. Troll’s crew driver parked the transport truck next to the other fifty trucks not in use. He was close enough for Lucy to recognize him. She wandered over, knowing she shouldn’t. She should mind her own business, but wouldn’t.
The driver’s name was Frank, a burly guy, redhead, always had a smile. He’d been hitting on Lucy off and on since they’d met two years ago. She’d ignored his passes and he’d been good-natured about the rebuffs. When he saw Lucy, he waved, pulled the keys from the ignition and hopped down to the tarmac.
“Smiling, Frank? You just lost a team member.”
“Ah, that.” He pursed his lips, giving a good approximation of what solemnity would look like on a leprechaun. “Yeah. Sad. I guess. Didn’t know the guy, but—” He shrugged. “You know. Sad.”
Lucy was amused despite her mood.
“I’m glad to see you, anyway.” He smiled again, discarding his halfhearted attempts to mourn a man he didn’t know. “I saw what you did to Troll. Class act.” Frank s
topped in front of her, looking her up and down, his hands on his hips.
“Not a big fan of Troll?”
“Nope. Want to go for a drink? I’m off until oh nine hundred.”
“I have an oh six hundred with Barrett. Rain check?”
Frank startled. “Damn. Yeah. Sorry. Totally forgot. Heard about Raven over the comms. Everyone is talking about it.”
Lucy figured there would be confusion over the next few days when crew leaders kept breathing despite agent losses. That kind of confusion she welcomed. “It was decided Raven’s death was not my fault.”
“Can they do that?” He looked happy and confused.
She shrugged. “I’m not asking.” Then she found herself laughing, with a tinge of hysteria that embarrassed her. She covered her mouth and saw Frank was nodding, as if to let her know he understood.
“Maybe things are changing around here,” he said.
“Maybe.” She nodded. “Walk with me. I need your help.”
“I find that hard to believe, but okay.” He threw the truck’s keys to the attendant. “Shoot.”
“How did your guy die?”
Frank slowed his gait, studying her expression. “Mountford? I don’t know.” He scanned the garage. “I don’t want to know. Troll and Martin dragged his dead body off the copter and onto the truck. I drove them here. There was a lot of yelling, finger-pointing. No intel. Mostly personal insults.”
Lucy hadn’t expected Frank to be a font of information, but she’d hoped for something. “But you have to know how he died.”
“Long-range rifle. No one saw the shooter, but whoever he was, he was good.”
“How good?”
Frank touched the furrow between his brows. “Dead center. Shots like that aren’t luck.” He shrugged. “And then he got away. No trace of him and, believe me, they looked.” He gave her a look that was almost chastising. “Don’t get this stink on you.”
“I got plenty of stink on me already.”
“Raven.” Frank nodded. “Yeah. Two in one night. Not good.”
The Seduction of Lucy Page 3