The Agent's Proposition

by Stone, Lyn

“They thought he was probably dead. He disappeared and stopped contact with family or friends after a couple of months. Apparently, he let a whole year pass and then decided to get revenge. Or maybe he thought he deserved huge compensation. Anyway, they’re faxing his photo and employment records.”

  It took two hours for Selim to trace Bulgar’s e-mails to a general location. He sat back and looked elated by his efforts. He had solved the puzzle, won the game, and Tess could feel his sense of pride.

  “Well?” she prompted.

  “He is on the island of Martinique. The trace ends at one of the two servers there. Sorry I can’t give you an address, but he’s there. At least he was as of the last message he sent to me,” Selim announced.

  Cameron studied the results. The e-mail had bounced around through a long routing string of servers all over the world. Finally, he nodded. “Perfect. We’ll soon have him right where we want him.”

  “How do we do that?” Tess asked.

  Cameron smiled. “We’re flying to the Caribbean.”

  “To search Martinique,” she said, guessing.

  Cameron shook his head. “No, it could take us weeks to find him that way. He’s going to come to us.”

  “We’ll need backup,” she said as she punched in Mercier’s number and waited for him to answer.

  “Get off the phone, Tess. No backup, or I’m off this mission,” Cameron said. “That’s how I got shafted last time.”

  “We might need the team. In fact, I’m not going in without them,” she declared.

  “You’re on your own till they show up, then,” Cameron replied with a determined set of his jaw. “I’ll take you and Selim back to Nice, and you can take it from there.”

  He left the saloon and went above, leaving her alone with Selim and with Mercier’s voice on the phone, demanding, “Tess? Tess, are you there? Is something wrong?”

  “Sorry, sir, I was just calling to check on that photo of Bulgar,” she said, her eyes still on the doorway through which Cameron had disappeared. The motor started, and the yacht began to move.

  “Faxed it a few minutes ago along with his records,” Mercier replied. “Anything else you need?”

  She hesitated only a few seconds. “No, sir. Thanks.”

  Why didn’t she given Mercier the plan they had for Bulgar and let him decide whether to send the team or not? She could still do that, but instead she closed the phone and looked at Selim. “Get back in the forward cabin now, Zee.”

  “There is no need to lock me away, Tessa. I promise to do precisely as you say.”

  “Promises are well and good, but business is business. Let’s go.”

  When she had secured the prisoner, she went above to talk to Cameron. “I didn’t call in the troops,” she told him when she reached the bridge.

  He nodded, his eyes on the sea ahead of them, as he slowed and cut the power. “Let’s get below and proceed then.”

  He gave her no thanks for trusting him. No attagirl for turning Selim. Well, maybe Cameron was the one who had actually done that by dangling him over the side of the boat. At any rate, she had expected some measure of appreciation for her capitulation in the backup matter and got none.

  Why was she still knocking herself out to please people, anyway? Why did she need someone else’s praise and validation or thanks? Hadn’t she learned anything by her struggle to excel and overcome her lackadaisical upbringing? She was pretty damn self-sufficient.

  What she thought of herself as an agent and as a person was the only crucial opinion, the only one that ultimately counted.

  That realization reminded her why she had never really needed a man around. Who needs you, anyway, Cochran!

  The little voice in her head argued that she did, and that possibly she was mixing up validation with something else she needed even more than that.

  Cameron sat down with the computer again and logged on to Selim’s e-mail. Tess watched as he composed a message that was blackmail, pure and simple.

  If Bulgar didn’t meet face-to-face in St. Thomas the next morning at nine o’clock and produce another five thousand euros or the equivalent in U.S. dollars, Selim would contact the U.S. Department of Energy and reveal Bulgar’s plan and his real identity. He signed with the letter Z as Zahi Selim had done in previous e-mails to Bulgar.

  “Extorting the extorter. Could work,” she said.

  “It better. We won’t wait for an answer. If he doesn’t agree to meet Zahi in St. Thomas, then at least we’ll be in the general area where we can go after him.”

  “Why St. Thomas?” she asked, then answered herself. “Oh, wait. Because it’s under U.S. jurisdiction, and Martinique belongs to France! Brilliant.”

  “Thanks, if it works and he doesn’t catch on. Britain owns some of the Virgin Islands, but St. Thomas is ours. Besides, I’ve been there before, and I like the idea of being on turf I know for something like this. Also, Bulgar will feel safer meeting in the islands than if he had to go to the mainland.”

  “I wonder if he owns that villa in Saint-Tropez,” Tess said.

  “Probably rented it for Zahi as part of the frame job. It looked like a rental, didn’t you think?”

  She laughed a little and ran a hand through her hair. “Well, I haven’t actually seen that many villas, if you want the truth, but I did have the same thought. Can’t fault the location, though. It’s where an Egyptian playboy might roost.”

  “Sorry your first visit to the Côte d’Azur was so short,” Cameron said. He settled back in his seat.

  “Can’t say it was uneventful, though.”

  Cameron closed the computer and put it back in its case. “Well, we’re on the homestretch now. Should wind this up tomorrow and be on our way to D.C.”

  Tess nodded. “I think Bulgar will come to St. Thomas, either to pay Zahi off or kill him. You’re pretty big on offering bait, aren’t you?”

  “It usually works. It did with Selim. Why don’t you work on him a little more before we dock?”

  “Okay. What about his passport?”

  “I have it, along with a work visa and his international driver’s license. All his papers are in the zippered pocket of his laptop case. He probably kept them there for a quick getaway if he ever needed one.”

  She went to unlock the forward cabin and let Selim out, while Cameron went above, to the wheel, to continue their trip to Nice.

  The private jet that had brought them to Nice was already back in the States, involved in another mission, so Cameron had to charter one to take them to the islands. He phoned Mercier for authorization to do so but offered no details of their plan. He reported only that they were following a strong lead to the individual who had orchestrated this threat.

  The flight was taking longer than expected due to the weather. Once they were out over the Atlantic, it was necessary to detour around a storm that had formed off the African coast.

  Tess sat across the aisle from Cameron and spent the time manning Selim’s computer, alternately gathering Web info about the Virgin Islands to familiarize herself with the location and watching for an answer to the e-mail Cameron had sent to Bulgar.

  Selim, in the window seat next to her, played solitaire with a deck of cards he’d found in the pocket on the back of the seat.

  Cameron was using his own computer to write a detailed report of their trip, including the preparation for and apprehension of Zahi Selim.

  He included the incident with the two men at the villa and their disposal. Might be some flack over that, but probably not. Investigations into the deaths of two known mercenaries wouldn’t last more than a couple of days and would get nowhere. The authorities would figure good riddance and soon forget it.

  He omitted the over-the-side tactic he had used during Selim’s interrogation, stating only that the subject cooperated willingly. Tess could add to or correct that if she wanted to, but he didn’t think she would. She had promised Selim she would speak for leniency on his behalf, and that would be more likely grant
ed if he hadn’t been coerced in any way to give information and help capture Bulgar.

  The plane shuddered and Tess grabbed the armrests. “Man, I hate this turbulence!”

  “Yeah, it’s pretty rough. Hope this weather heads north,” replied Cameron.

  He went back to work. Reports were his least favorite task during or after an op, but he recognized the necessity and did them as quickly as possible. Tess would do hers, they would be debriefed separately after the mission and that would be that.

  Would they really offer him a job if he was successful? Probably not. No way he could hold them to the promise with nothing in writing.

  He’d been branded a rogue agent and blacklisted by the CIA, no small thing to get around. He didn’t have any expectations with regard to that. The promise was probably empty and had almost surely been made in order to secure his help with this particular op. So be it. Back to the fishing and his life on Tybee.

  Tess would go on to bigger and better things, he was sure. She had what it took, played things by the book.

  Or did she? He’d been mighty surprised by her agreement not to call in a backup team. And she hadn’t kicked up too much dust about his treatment of Selim or getting rid of those goons back in Saint-Tropez.

  He had lied to Selim, of course. The acceptance of the badge and creds back on Tybee had committed him officially, and he certainly was working for the government. He had no doubt that he would be held responsible for the way he’d gotten the information out of Selim. Not that he cared, as long as Tess didn’t take any heat for it. He’d see that she wouldn’t.

  He liked that she was flexible enough to tolerate a little rule breaking. She had offered a couple of token protests to his treatment of Selim, so she should be covered.

  “Here it is!” she exclaimed. “Bulgar’s response.”

  Chapter 11

  Cameron crossed the aisle and crouched by Tess to read Bulgar’s answer to the e-mail. Selim edged over to see it as well.

  “He agreed to meet on St. Thomas and bring the money,” Cameron muttered. “I guess that’s that. When he does, we’ll take him into custody. That should do it.”

  “He will kill me,” Selim said with a dejected sigh.

  “He would have to kill us first,” Cameron assured him. “And you know that’s not going to happen.”

  The turbulence grew worse, shaking them to the point where even Cameron felt uneasy. Then he felt the plane begin to climb. “We’ll be okay. Pilot’s getting above it. Relax.”

  “This might make me a white-knuckle flyer from now on,” Tess admitted, then issued a relieved sigh when the flight smoothed out.

  A couple of hours later they descended and enjoyed a perfect landing. They had gained almost six hours even with the delay, so it was still daylight.

  Customs took less than a half hour since they were traveling light, Tess flashed her badge and they had landed in between planes bearing tourists. Cameron went to the rental-car desk, signed the papers and got a key.

  “I called ahead. We have a bungalow on the off side of the island. Better if we don’t take this any more public than we have to,” Cameron told Tess. “I’ll e-mail Bulgar the location early in the morning. No point advertising where we are, or he might get creative tonight if he flies in early.”

  “You think he might already be here?” she asked.

  “Well, he didn’t have far to go,” Cameron said.

  They went to the car lot, and he punched the unlock button to locate their vehicle. Clouds rolled in quickly and rain began to fall. The storm they had flown around must have reached the islands. He hoped it would be over before morning.

  They got in the Hyundai sedan, Tess in the back with Selim. “How in the world did you manage to get a place to stay on such short notice?” she asked.

  “I know the owner,” Cameron said over his shoulder. “He’s making himself scarce for the duration, no questions asked. Called in a favor.”

  She shook her head. “Do you know somebody everywhere?”

  “If I don’t, I pretend to. This guy I do know, however. We did some business together a while back. He’s retired now.”

  “I take it you trust him?” Tess asked.

  Cameron nodded. “As far as I need to. He will be gone when we get there, and won’t come back until we leave. I promised him what the big hotels get, and he was happy with that. This is the storm season, and he said he might as well fly to the mainland for a couple of weeks’ vacation.”

  “I can’t imagine anyone needing a vacation from a Caribbean island,” she replied.

  “He said they were expecting bad weather in the next couple of days, and I guess he’s right, since it’s already started raining,” said Cameron.

  Tess nodded. “Well, I hate to see our expense total for this trip. Jack will croak.”

  Cameron didn’t care. He admittedly hadn’t economized on anything. If they wanted his services on this op, they could damn well make it worth his while. The actual pay probably wouldn’t be that much.

  Maybe he was after getting a little compensation, just like Bulgar intended, but at least Cameron’s efforts were legal. Besides that, he figured Tess hadn’t been many places in her short career, and he wanted her to enjoy it as much as possible in the limited time they had.

  Or maybe, just maybe, you’re trying to impress her, Mr. Big Shot, his conscience suggested. Cameron smiled. Maybe so. You took your jollies where you could get’em.

  He did want to impress her. He wanted to give her the time of her life, buy her fine wine, send her dozens of roses and make love to her on the beach. But they had made love once, and he figured that was about all he could expect or ought to try for.

  Tess was the kind of woman men like him only dreamed about hooking up with. Actually having someone like her on a long-term basis was out of the question for him. He shouldn’t even want long term.

  By the time they reached the bungalow, it was fully dark and raining harder. Cameron went in first, checked it out, then beckoned Tess to enter with Selim.

  “This is pretty posh for a one-night stay,” she observed. Cameron could see she was pleased, however. “It’s lovely, isn’t it?”

  “It’s private enough for our purposes, too, and that’s the important thing,” he replied. “I guess we’d better eat, then get some sleep. Tomorrow’s the big day.”

  They feasted on the frozen, prepackaged meals and bottled soda Cameron had requested the owner stock for them.

  He regretted they hadn’t been able to stop at a restaurant and sample the local cuisine, but felt it necessary to limit their time in public places. He still didn’t trust Selim not to make a run for it.

  Selim was nodding off before they finished eating. Cameron roused him and ordered him into the bedroom that had twin beds. He asked Tess for plastic restraints and cuffed one of Selim’s wrists to the headboard. Then he lay down on the other bed and waited until Selim fell asleep before joining Tess in the living room.

  “He’s down for the count,” he said as he took a seat to finish his soda. “You ready to turn in?”

  “More than ready. Events are catching up with me. I want a long, hot shower and a good eight hours’ sleep.”

  He stood when she did and reached out to clasp her shoulder. “I should have said it before, Tess, but you’ve done a great job. Played it just right.”

  “Thanks. I’d love to say the same about you, but I can’t agree with your interrogation tactics. You didn’t hurt him, but you did scare him to death.”

  Cameron smiled down at her. “I’m not a strong proponent of torture, but when time is short, you go with your instincts.”

  “He’s on board with us now,” she said with a decisive nod. “I know I’m reading him right.”

  “Reading him? His thoughts, you mean?”

  “His mind’s an open book. He never really thought things through before. To him, it was just a game. A profitable game, but that’s how he saw it. He never figured that people
would actually suffer and die if he cut the power. In a way, he was taunting what he viewed as a spoiled society, with its inability to get along without electricity.”

  Cameron huffed, unable to hide his amusement. “You got all that from the little he said? Actual words?”

  “No, he doesn’t think in English, or I probably could. He’s a good subject for it,” she said with a confident smile. “I could sense his emotions very clearly.”

  “I think in English.” He looked deeply into her eyes. “Can you read my mind right now?”

  She looked away, still wearing that smile. “Of course I can.”

  “No, you can’t. If you could, you’d get all huffy and slap my face.”

  She looked up at him then, and he saw the dare in her expression. That was when he kissed her. To hell with the rules. Tess wanted this as much as he did. With a response like that, she had to.

  He felt her arms slide around him, her hands grip his back, her breasts press against his chest and her lower body arch into his. Arousal zinged through him with the speed of light.

  Just when he would have lifted her off her feet and carried her into that other bedroom, she pushed away. “We can’t do this,” she gasped. “Not right now and you know it.”

  He kept a grip on her waist. But she was right. They were on a crucial part of the mission, had a prisoner in the next room and needed to keep their minds on the next phase of the op.

  He knew she was right, but the blood leaving his brain and pumping through his veins said otherwise. He backed off. No means no, he kept repeating in his mind. No means no.

  “Good night, Cameron,” she said, the words little more than a whisper. She patted his chest once with her palms, and then she was gone.

  Cameron stood for a long time, waiting for his breathing to even out and his heart rate to subside to something approaching normal.

  Oh, man, he was in so much trouble. It wasn’t just sex on the beach he wanted with Tess.

  Tess woke to the smell of coffee brewing. Her Timex said it was seven, a late morning for her. She got up, pulled on a pair of beige slacks and a matching shell. Today they’d be arresting Bulgar. She should abandon pretense and become an agent again with the proper looks and attitude.