The Agent's Proposition

by Stone, Lyn

  She donned a short-sleeved brown linen jacket and sensible brown flats. Pretty professional for an agent in the field, she decided as she surveyed herself in the dresser mirror.

  Her hair had lost its oomph, so she scooped it back into a low ponytail and wrapped that into a bun at her nape, securing it with a few hairpins. But she couldn’t bring herself to go out there barefaced. She hurriedly added a minimum of makeup.

  Would Cameron be disappointed that she had reverted to the old Tess? Well, she was who she was, after all, and it was time to end the fantasy all the way around.

  “Hey, she’s alive!” Cameron quipped, getting up from the kitchen table to pour her coffee for her. “Want some breakfast? Jerry’s fridge is pretty well stocked for a bachelor’s.”

  “One of those cinnamon buns will be fine,” she said, reaching for the package that was already open. “Morning, Zee.”

  Selim nodded, looking and feeling pretty glum, she noted.

  Cameron finished his coffee. “I’ll e-mail Bulgar and have him meet Zahi here at nine. You and I will stay out of sight until he’s inside. Should be an eventless bust if Zahi behaves himself and doesn’t warn him off at the door.” He shot their captive a warning look.

  “I said I would not,” Selim mumbled.

  “You won’t be sorry,” Tess promised. “At least you’ll be able to live with your conscience, right?”

  Selim shrugged and nodded. “If he lets me live. What if he shoots me before you can do anything?”

  “He won’t,” Cameron said. “He’ll want to talk to you first, learn how you identified him and find out what happened to your watchdogs. We’ll be ready to take him as soon as he gets here.”

  “Maybe he’s actually coming to deal,” Tess said. “He might be planning to pay you off and go on as planned.”

  Cameron agreed. “His reply indicated that. Somehow I don’t think he’s into physical force, not personally, anyway. The very nature of his plan proves that he prefers to exact revenge from a distance. Doesn’t want to get his hands dirty.”

  Selim looked hopeful, desperately wanting to believe that Bulgar offered no immediate threat to him.

  “It’ll be okay, Zee,” Tess said with a smile. “You are doing the right thing, you know.”

  Cameron had turned on the television in the living area, which was open to the kitchen. An announcer was giving the weather report, warning that continued rain and high winds were expected.

  “Sounds like that disturbance we flew around blew this way instead of turning north, like they expected,” Cameron said. “We’d better keep a close eye on the weather.”

  An hour later the announcer declared that the storm had indeed changed direction, picked up speed and increased to hurricane force. While it probably wouldn’t make landfall on St. Thomas, it was entirely possible that it might. Residents were advised to prepare.

  “What does that mean? Prepare?” Tess asked. “What do we do?” She remembered the devastation in New Orleans with Katrina years ago. “How do you get ready for something like that?”

  “Seek shelter, but we’ll have time to do that after the bust,” said Cameron. “No way we can get off the island unless we abort the mission. We might as well do this and then worry about weathering the storm.”

  Tess knew he was right. They might not have another chance at Bulgar. Still, they could all die if they weren’t prepared. “But what if—”

  “The brunt of it is at least several hours away,” Cameron said. “We’d better get in place in case Bulgar decides to come early. Tess, you remain in the bedroom at the front, and leave the door cracked a bit until he’s well inside. If he tries to run for it when you come in and announce yourself, stay between him and the front entrance. I’ll take the back, in case he goes that way.”

  “If he makes it back outside in this downpour, we could lose him,” Tess noted. The landscape was hilly and forested, and the bungalow was fairly isolated on the inland side of one of the hills. Bulgar could hide out for days or maybe work down to the coast and escape by boat.

  Cameron nodded. “Zahi, you answer the door when he gets here, then walk around behind the sofa, as you talk to him. When the collar goes down, drop behind the sofa just in case he has a weapon.”

  Selim swallowed hard, obviously headed for panic mode.

  Cameron must have realized it, too. He clapped Selim on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, kid. I know you can do this. We’ll have it under control. Take a deep breath, and be a hero for once in your life, okay? Think of all the lives you’ll be saving.”

  Selim straightened his hunched shoulders and stoked up his courage. He looked at Tess. “I trust you.”

  “Good man,” she said with a smile. “Hang in there now, and don’t show any nerves, okay?”

  Selim gave her a decisive nod and returned the smile.

  The wait seemed interminable. Tess’s own nerves were about to snap when they heard a car engine through the driving rain. A car door slammed. Selim headed for the front door. Tess sensed his terror and hoped it didn’t show on his face.

  Selim opened the door at the first knock. “Come in,” he said and stood back. Peeking out, Tess could see Selim quickly retreat behind the sofa as the other man entered.

  Bulgar looked to be in fair shape, though older than he appeared in the photo Mercier had faxed. He was carrying a briefcase and had one hand in his pocket. If he had a gun in there, she didn’t want him to have a chance to use it.

  She swung the door open, grabbed him from behind and buckled his knees with hers. He dropped with a guttural cry, and she slammed him forward to the floor, landing on top of him.

  The briefcase flew to one side, and his hand came out of his pocket with a pistol in it. She grabbed his wrist and dug into the pressure point with her thumbnail. The pistol tumbled out of his hand.

  Cameron had rushed to help. He kicked the weapon aside and knelt to assist her, cuffing Bulgar with the plastic restraints she had given him earlier.

  “There we go,” Cameron said. He stood up and helped Tess to her feet. “Perfect takedown,” he said to her, grinning with pride.

  She sensed that his pride in her was real, and she had never felt so powerful and in control. “Thanks. I guess that’s it, then.”

  Cameron read Bulgar the Miranda rights. “Do you understand?” he asked. He gave Bulgar a rough shake when the man remained silent. “Answer!”

  “Lawyer,” the man replied, breathless from exertion. “Nothing…till I get a lawyer.”

  “Fine by me. I wasn’t looking for a long conversation.” Cameron left him lying on his stomach, hands secured behind him.

  Selim was on the floor behind the sofa, hands over his head.

  “Okay, hero, you can get up now,” Tess said. She and Cameron shared a wry grin.

  “I did it. I did it,” Selim kept saying.

  “I guess we can worry about the weather now,” Tess said, straightening her jacket and brushing a strand of hair off her brow.

  “See what’s on the news,” Cameron suggested as he recovered Bulgar’s weapon. “Looks like the storm’s over in here.”

  The prisoner shot him a hate-filled glare.

  Tess turned on the television, and the announcer sounded much more urgent than he had earlier.

  “…miles per hour after changing direction and passing over warm currents, has now been classified a category two storm.”

  “A cat two? That’s not sounding good,” Cameron muttered. He went to the window and looked out. “Darkening up out there.”

  The announcer continued. “Landfall of the eye is expected at seven o’clock this evening on St. John. All air and marine traffic has been suspended for the duration, and residents are advised to take shelter as soon as possible. Remember the surprise Hurricane Marilyn gave us in nineteen ninety-five?”

  “We are going to die!” Selim exclaimed, hands buried in his hair as he shook his head. “We have to get off the island!”

  “Shut up, Zee,
so we can hear the rest of this,” Tess snapped.

  The message sounded urgent. “St. John residents directly in the path have been evacuated by ferry to St. Thomas. Those of you here in St. Thomas, seek high ground if possible to escape flooding, and take immediate cover within the strongest structure available. I repeat, residents of the island, take immediate cover.”

  “What do you say?” she asked Cameron. “Should we commandeer a boat and try to outrun it?”

  “And go where?” Cameron asked, worry lines marring his brow.

  Chapter 12

  “It’s not safe to leave in any direction. I guess we’re stuck on St. Thomas for a while,” Cameron said. “But let’s get closer to the airport and find a shelter if we can.” He picked up the briefcase Bulgar had dropped. “Grab our laptops and Selim’s. Leave the luggage.”

  He dragged the resisting Bulgar to his feet and gave Selim an order. “Selim, you help Tess with the computers.”

  They hurried out to the car. Tess got in back with Bulgar, and Selim sat in the passenger seat beside Cameron.

  “Take this road to Charlotte Street and hang a left,” Tess said as she studied the map. “The hospital is our best bet.”

  “And everyone will be headed there,” Cameron argued.

  “Okay, then one of the big hotels would probably be better,” she said just as Cameron slammed on the brakes.

  “Tree across the road. And we haven’t passed any side roads to detour,” Cameron muttered. “We’ll have to go back, dig in and hope to hell the house is as sound as it looks. At least it’s on high ground.”

  “Maybe too high. We could get the brunt of the winds. Could we walk out from here?” she asked, leaning forward as if that would help to see. Palm trees were bowing, and things were beginning to fly around them, small objects, clumps of leaves.

  “No way.” Cameron slammed the car in reverse and backed up the road, his lips tight with apprehension. “I know the devastation a cat four or five can cause, and this is already a two. That could change rapidly, if it hasn’t already.”

  So far, no big thing. Only a small category two hurricane, a couple of hours of harassment. But the expected 105-mile-per-hour winds could quickly turn into everyone’s worst nightmare, and Tess knew it. Winds were already pummeling them, and the main force hadn’t even hit yet.

  They parked the car beside Bulgar’s and rushed inside. Tess carried the briefcase and two laptops. Cameron held the one taken from Selim and dragged the silent Bulgar with his other hand. Selim stayed close to Tess, all but hugging her side, as if she could protect him.

  “The walk-in closet in the master bedroom is probably the safest spot,” Cameron said and went directly there, pushing Bulgar in one corner, stashing the computer and motioning for Tess to do the same with the other two. Selim followed and crouched in the corner opposite Bulgar.

  It was a fairly large walk-in with coated wire shelving around the perimeter. A man’s hanging clothes took up one side, and the other was stacked with books and small appliances, a dehumidifier, a space heater, plastic tackle boxes and such.

  “Let’s get rid of these,” Cameron said and began lifting some things out and tossing them into the bedroom. “Tess, go and get pillows and blankets. And run us some water in whatever containers you can find.”

  “Some food, too!” Selim added, staying right where he was in the corner, beneath the shelves.

  Tess and Cameron settled in with their captives, waiting for the storm to pass. Tess had left the television on with the volume maxed so they could hear any further reports. She had also found a battery-powered radio but was saving that in case the power went out.

  Soon it sounded as if all hell was breaking loose. Objects were crashing onto the structure. Glass shattered, and Tess figured it was the French doors to the patio off the dining area.

  The light in the closet blinked off, and the television fell silent. Cameron rustled around, and light soon flared from the Coleman lantern he had located before they had settled in.

  “Can’t run this for long, so look around you and memorize where everything is that you might need,” he instructed.

  When he turned the lantern off again, they sat silently, listening to the devastation going on outside their cocoon, wondering whether it would remain secure.

  The roof could go at any minute, Tess figured. Then the walls, along with the contents of the closet, including its inhabitants. Her heart pumped like crazy.

  “My ears are popping,” Selim complained.

  “Barometric pressure’s dropped,” Cameron noted.

  Tess turned on the radio. Nothing but static. She felt Cameron’s hand grasp hers. He just held it. Maybe he needed the human contact.

  She wished they were snuggled close, because she sure as hell needed it. As if he heard her thoughts, he shifted position and slipped an arm around her.

  Bulgar still hadn’t said anything. He sat on Cameron’s opposite side.

  Selim must have heard the movement, because he scrambled across the closet and pressed against Tess on the other side from Cameron. So there Tess and Cameron sat, flanked by their prisoners, waiting for the commotion to cease.

  Tess took Selim’s hand, the one that had landed on her outstretched leg. “We’ll be okay,” she declared. “Everybody just stay calm.”

  Cameron didn’t offer any verbal reassurance, but he gave her shoulder a squeeze. So they sat silently on the cold tiled floor, huddled against a storm they heard but couldn’t see. Imagination was a terrible thing, but the reality could prove worse, Tess thought.

  Selim began muttering under his breath. She understood enough of it to recognize prayer. No atheists in foxholes or a hurricane’s eye, she figured and mumbled a little prayer of her own. Cameron and Bulgar remained silent.

  A horrible wrenching staccato clattered above them. Roof tiles giving it up. The wind increased its roar and the entire structure shook.

  Eventually the loud whistling and the slap of debris abated a little, then stopped. The roof had held, at least the portion directly over their heads.

  “It’s over,” Tess whispered.

  “Half over maybe. We’re probably in the eye,” Cameron said with a sigh. He lit the lantern again and reached for a soda. “If either of you need a bathroom break, now’s the time, and make it snappy. Tess first.”

  Cameron got up and opened the door. Debris was piled up outside it, so he kicked a path for her, then returned to the closet and closed the door to give her some privacy. Tess had expected devastation, but it was still a shock to see the mess that littered the floor.

  Before returning to their shelter, she peeked into the other rooms. Water had dashed inside the broken windows, along with muddy unidentifiable objects, leaves and branches. The furniture was intact, but soaked and probably ruined. She went back to the relative comfort of the closet and sat down, knowing the respite could be of short duration.

  Cameron accompanied Selim to the bathroom, still not trusting enough to leave him alone. Then he did the same with Bulgar. The wind still had not picked up again when they resumed their places. They waited until four o’clock in the afternoon.

  The expected second and worse phase never hit. Tess slept a little, since it was dark as pitch and there was nothing else they could do.

  Cameron turned on the lantern after a while and checked his watch. “I’m going to see what we’ve got outside,” he announced. He got up and opened the door. Sunlight streamed inside.

  He returned a few moments later. “I guess St. Thomas got sideswiped instead of hit directly, but it sure was bad enough. Even if the car’s operational, we’ll play hell getting around with so many trees down. We’ll have to stay here until the morning, maybe longer.”

  He picked up Selim’s computer and went out into the wreckage that had once been a lovely, recently renovated bungalow. Tess and Selim followed. They left Bulgar in the closet.

  The power was still off. Tess swiped all objects from the kitchen counter
, set the small radio on it and turned it on.

  “…devastation of St. Croix after a direct hit on the island. St. Thomas residents are asked to report to the hospital if medical help is needed. Otherwise, you are asked to remain where you are until cleanup crews can repair downed power lines. I repeat, it is dangerous to move about the island until damage is assessed and repaired.”

  “That’s what I figured,” Cameron said. “Let’s see what we can do around here to make it livable. Selim, you’re in charge of meals. See what you can do about scaring up something to eat. The stuff in the fridge should be fine for a while if we keep the door closed as much as possible. Tess, find more containers and drain as much water as you can get out of the pipes. I’ll clear out some of this mess and board up what I can.”

  They ate cheese and fruit, washing it down with the last three cans of soda. They had canned food in the pantry and thawing prepackaged dinners left in the freezer. Tess figured they could survive on what they had for three or four days. By that time, but hopefully before then, it would be safe to leave the bungalow and find a way off the island.

  “I’d better call and report in,” she told Cameron. “Control will know where I am, and they’ll be worried.”

  “You’re chipped,” Cameron said, guessing. He referred to the computer chips imbedded under the skin to transmit the coordinates of the agents in the event they were captured, killed or otherwise unable to communicate their location.

  Tess nodded. “Of course. Aren’t you?”

  He shook his head. “Not anymore. Call then. We’ll need to turn Selim and Bulgar over to the authorities. Maybe Mercier can get us a chopper in here.”

  She reached into her pocket. “My phone’s missing. I must have dropped it in the closet.” But she hadn’t used it since calling Mercier from the air. Maybe she had lost it on the plane.

  They quickly began a search, but the phone was nowhere to be found. Cameron offered his and she called Mercier.