by G. R. Cody
Her gentle reminder jarred Eve to her senses, and she gulped down the remainder of her tea, which was cold now.
“Yes,” Eve said, popping up and giving Mary a hug. She gathered her camera bag, slung it over her shoulder, and grabbed her shoes. “And thanks for the use of the Jeep. I’ll make sure it gets back to you before tomorrow evening, if that’s okay.”
“That’s fine, dear,” Mary said, opening the front door for Eve. “It needs gas, and make sure you check the oil every hundred miles or so if you’re going that far.”
Eve climbed up into the leather seat, put her camera bag in the passenger seat, and jammed on her shoes. Then she shut the door and cranked the car after pumping the accelerator a few times first. Then, she opened her camera bag and dug around for her camera. She rolled the window down, and said,
“Thank you so much. Mary,” and raised her camera. “Do you mind?”
“Oh, heavens, I look a mess!” Mary said from the porch, picking at her hair.
“On the contrary,” Eve said, and she raised her camera and snapped a couple of pictures. Then lowered the camera and smiled. “You’re absolutely gorgeous!”
Eve shoved the camera back into the bag, inched away toward the main two lane, waving out the window until she hit the pavement.
CHAPTER 15
It was just after 9AM when Eve crossed into Clearwater. She had seen the sun rise two hours ago as she took US 19 down the Gulf coast. The heat from the rising sun was in her window the whole way, and she could feel her left arm beginning to burn. She was thankful for her Chelsea hat and the aviator sunglasses she had found in the glove box.
Eve reached between her legs for the map she had folded so that the Tampa/Clearwater/St. Petersburg inset was visible. A few miles and she would turn onto Interstate 275, cross Old Tampa Bay and arrive at her destination just south of Tampa International Airport. For the past few minutes, she had noticed a steady stream of passenger jets rising into the air from left to right at about one minute intervals, each jet growing larger as she came closer and closer to the flight path.
About two and a half hours before, just as she had turned onto US 19 from the little two lane, she had found a small Texaco service station that had just opened for the day. She pulled up to the pump and was surprised to hear dings as her tires rolled over a black tube.
As she climbed out of the Jeep, she was met by a young man in a full blue overall suit and baseball cap. A patch with “Dwayne” was above his breast pocket.
“”Like a fill up?” he said pleasantly, wringing his black-stained hands in a rag.
“Wow, full service?” Eve said. “Don’t see that every day.”
Dwayne smiled but did not answer.
“Um, well, I’m not sure how much cash I have,” Eve muttered as she reached back into the passenger’s seat, unzipped the inner pocket and shuffled through her emergency cash. She still had $80 in U.S. dollars, and until she got to Tampa, she wasn’t about to try using a card. “I’m headed to Tampa. How far is that?”
“Oh, about 150 miles,” the boy said. “I reckon, in this guzzler, about 40 bucks would get you there.”
“Then make it $40,” Eve said, handing him two twenties. “And can you check the oil for me, Dwayne?”
“Sure,” he responded with a smile. “Part of the service anyway.”
Eve stepped toward the front of the Woody so that Dwayne could start the gas and pop the hood.
“Also,” Eve said. “Do you have a map? One that shows how to get to Tampa, and has a Tampa street map?”
“Sure,” he said as he lifted the hood, and gestured with his head to the left toward the shop. “Just inside the door, on that rack.”
“How much are they?”
“No charge,” he said, not looking at her but instead searching the engine for the dipstick.
“Oh, thanks,” Eve said, and she turned and walked to the shop. After a minute of searching for a Florida map with an insert of Tampa streets, she returned to the Woody, and Dwayne was slamming the hood back.
“You’re fine on oil,” he said, and turned to replace the gas pump. Without turning back toward her he said, “This is Mrs. Witherspoon’s car, ain’t it?”
“Yes,” Eve said, detecting a bit of suspicion in his voice. “My father has a cabin on her property. She’s letting me borrow it. I haven’t been down here in years.”
Dwayne turned back to her, raised his eyebrows and smiled wryly, and said, “Yeah, I know. I called her while you were in the store. I put oil in her about a week ago, but if you’re driving nonstop to Tampa, you’ll want to check it about halfway. That’d be about Crystal River. Soon as you see the exit sign, get off and there’s a Jet’s right off 19. If she’s lower than halfway, I’d put a quart in her. 10W40. Tampa’s straight down 19 South, takes you straight into Clearwater and then you just cross the bay.”
“Thanks,” Eve smiled back at him, “Also, is there a Walmart close.”
“Mmmm,” he muttered, wringing his hands in the rag again, “Down that way? Probably Chiefland. A new Super Walmart right off 19, about 45 minutes, I’d reckon.”
“Thanks Dwayne,” Eve said, and she climbed in the car and pulled a five dollar bill out and gave it to him.
“Thanks, ma’am,” he said, “And you have a safe trip. Sun’ll be up soon, but don’t overdo the air. Might overheat her if’n you leave it on too long. If the air temperature gauge starts to rise, I’d shut it off for a few minutes and just roll down the window.”
“Thanks for the advice, Wayne,” Eve said. Dwayne tipped his cap, and Eve started the Jeep up again and pulled out onto U.S. 19.
The two and a half hour drive along the Gulf coast gave Eve plenty of time to think. She regretted having to leave Robert alone, but it was unavoidable. Even though she was glad he had come, it was a risk that he shouldn’t have taken. And despite her attempt to protect him by sending him back home, she had ended up needing him.
Eve couldn’t help smiling when she thought of Robert, not just now, but in those moments he had crossed her mind the past decade. They had been there for each other as teenagers, as friends and as compatriots in a world that few people knew, the death of a parent at a young age. It would be nice to have a relationship with a man that wasn’t driven by deception and necessity, with someone who had already earned her trust and never betrayed it. It was true that as a teenager, she never thought of the possibility of a relationship with Robert; he was too much a friend then. But now, she couldn’t deny she was having feelings for him. She wondered if it could be that easy, or if it should. But if that was going to happen, it would have to wait. She had work to finish.
Which made her think of Arthur. Their relationship had been contrived since the beginning, but his charm and the many months of their being together, and her not detecting any reason to believe he was anything other than a photojournalist desk chief, had blinded her to being more skeptical of his honesty. She had to admit to herself that his cover had been well acted, both at work and away from the office. Professionally she had to admire him, but emotionally, she was still grappling with what she knew was misplaced and irrational betrayal. She was secretly smiling at the trouble he was not doubt having pinning her down. He had his secrets, she had hers.
Thanks to Felix, she now had more reason to distrust HSA, and given Arthur seemed to be with them, she needed to distance herself from both of them and gain more perspective and intelligence. In addition to what she had originally been tasked with upon her arrival in London, she was now privy to more suspicious activity by the agency. How they were connected, if they were indeed connected, she still couldn’t fathom. But at least she knew that Jonathan’s suspicion of rats in Homeland Security had been correct. But how did gold disappearing from U.S. reserves and a lake recently cordoned off on the northern Montana Blackfeet Native American reservation after it started running red conjoin? If it even did.
Eve had stopped in Chiefland at Walmart and picked up a pair of khaki sho
rts and a white t-shirt with part of the $35 she had left in cash, and immediately changed into them in the bathroom. She remembered that she had a few dollars on her Starbucks card and couldn’t resist getting a venti iced caramel macchiato at Starbucks on the way out. She also did end up having to put a quart of oil in the Woody about halfway to Tampa.
She double checked the address in the text as she crossed Old Tampa Bay on Interstate 275, and made sure she had the right road. West Gray Street. Eve looked over the Bay to he left and saw a lone, four story building on the Bay front, and guessed that was where she was headed.
Once in the parking lot, Eve gathered her camera bag, replaced Mary’s sunglasses in the glove box and locked up the Grand Wagoneer. As she walked through the sliding glass doors, she breathed a sigh of relief. She placed her bag on the conveyor belt of the X-ray machine, walked through the metal detector, then gathered her bag after a quick swipe over her body by the security guard with a wand.
Eve plopped her bag on the inside counter where a young woman was seated.
“Hello, what office are you here for?”
“FBI,” Eve said as she extracted her ID and badge, and handed it to the young woman, who opened it, and asked Eve to place her forefinger on a pad on the counter. The young guard looked between her computer screen and the ID, and then asked Eve to look into a small camera that the guard held up.
“Please remove the hat if you don’t mind,” the guard said. Eve did so, and the guard took her photograph. The young guard then handed Eve back her ID and badge and asked Eve to have a seat in one of the chairs against the wall across from the counter.
Eve gathered her bag, put the ID and badge back in it, and sat for about five minutes before a tall, thin woman of about thirty dressed in a charcoal grey suit and black heals, her blond hair tied neatly back in a ponytail, emerged from the glass barricades between the lobby and elevator bays and headed toward her.
Eve stood, and held out her hand as the woman smiled and said, “Ms. Pemberton?”
“Yes,” Eve said.
“We’ve been expecting you. We received communication from Legate Switzer yesterday. My name is Cathy Jergenson. I’m assistant section chief here in Tampa,” the woman introduced herself and shook Eve’s hand, while looking her up and down, evidently surprised at Eve’s casual dress.
“Thanks, and call me Eve. Been a rough couple of weeks,” Eve remarked, to which Agent Jergenson laughed.
“I’ve heard that before, believe me,” Agent Jergenson said. “Follow me and we’ll get you taken care of.”
After procuring a temporary access badge from the security desk, Eve followed Agent Jergenson through the glass barricades and to the elevator. Once in, Agent Jergenson pressed the 4th floor button.
“We’ve got you set for a closed circuit video conference with Legate Switzer,” Agent Jergenson said as the doors to the elevator closed. “He was really worried about you,” she said, and looked down at her watch, “It’s ten here, so it’ll be three in the afternoon in London.”
The elevator opened up into a small landing with one door to the left and one to the right. Eve followed Agent Jergensen through the door to the left, which opened in on an unassuming space with a row of offices on the left and cubicles on the right. They passed the offices and cubicles, all of which were empty, in silence and rounded a corner to the left. A few feet later, Agent Jergensen stepped into an open door to a small conference room, a laptop open and booted up on the small oval desk.
“Have a seat, Eve,” Agent Jergensen said. “I’ll have someone from IT come by in a minute and get the videochat up.”
“Thanks,” Eve said as she placed her bag down and sat in front of the laptop. “Is there any coffee?”
“Sure,” Agent Jergensen said. “Follow me.”
When Eve returned to the conference room, a young girl with a Chinese dragon tattoo and a nose ring was in front of the laptop.
“Hi,” the girl said, not looking up from the screen, her fingers tapping furiously at the keyboard. “Have you up in a jiff. I’m Jill,” but she didn’t extend a hand.
“I’m Eve,” and she rubbed her palms against her hips uncomfortably. “Nice to…”
“Okay,“ Jill interrupted as her fingers came to an abrupt halt and she turned in the chair toward Eve and finally looked at her. “You are all set. Just click ‘connect’ when you are ready. It will ring the other end to let the other side know you are on.”
Jill stood up and quickly shuffled out of the conference room, shutting the door behind her.
Eve breathed deeply, collected her thoughts, and clicked connect on the screen. As she did, she saw her face appear in a small box at the top right of the screen, similar to Skype. The line rang for about a minute, then a familiar face appeared.
“Eve!” John Switzer exclaimed with a sense of relief. “Am I glad to see you! I was about a day away from contacting D.C.”
“Well,” Eve said, “I am glad you didn’t. And I am sorry that I couldn’t contact you sooner, but it was unavoidable.”
John’s face turned to concern and professionalism. “What do you mean, ‘unavoidable?’, Eve? You were on vacation, for heaven sake! But I am glad that you are alright after what happened in Atlanta. How is your cover at CNC? Has it been compromised?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Eve said, “but I do have Homeland Security on my tail for some reason.”
“Homeland Security?” John said with an air of contemplation. “What is the world would they want with you?”
“Evidently, they had an issue with something on my video feed of the Atlanta bombing,” Eve explained. “I had no idea at the time, but things have been coming together…”
“Coming together?” John asked. “How do you mean?”
Over the next 45 minutes or so, Eve detailed the events of the past few days while John took notes. When she was done, John thought for a moment.
“Well, I am glad you are safe,” He finally said with a smile. “And you were right not to blow your cover with Arthur or Felix. To both of them, you are still just a photojournalist who has stepped into a bad situation. And it was good luck that Felix left when he did. Curious though, his connection to your parents. So, the U.K. gold thefts were not isolated incidents; there is a pattern. Good work, Eve, but I am still not sure what this tells us, other than that Homeland Security seems to be involved in more fishy things than we have suspected.”
“Felix seemed to think that there was some connection between the gold heists and Homeland Security,” Eve said, “as if they were somehow in on it, or covering it up. He said his next stop would be the U.S. Mints, and I think he will start with West Point.”
John contemplated for another moment, rubbing his face. Finally, he said, “Eve, thank you for this. Sometimes luck is your best friend. Good job keeping your eyes open. Let me see what I can find out about this Lieter character, and it sounds like I need to dig a little deeper with my MI6 contacts on Arthur. But the most important thing I need to do is get any and all suspicion off of you.”
“So, you can clear things up so I can come back to London?” Eve asked hopefully.
“Well, I will get things cleared up,” John answered, “but as for coming back to London…”
Eve did not like his tone.
“I was contacted by my friend in Montana last week,” John said. “Access to Goose Lake has now been restricted to all civilian traffic by Homeland Security, but my friend says that water trucks have arrived again twice over the past three weeks. I checked with my contacts at FBI major crimes in D.C., and they say that still nothing unusual has been reported by the Blackfeet Nation council, but they must have some idea what is going on. The Indian tribes are always looking for more reason to distrust the federal government. This would be something I would have received tens of calls about when I was back at the D.C. office. But there have been no reports whatsoever to D.C., only the one contact I have, who is just a civilian, and good friend.
&
nbsp; “I know this is not what you want to hear, Eve,” John said, “but I want you to connect with my contact in Montana and see what you can find out. Scope the place out, see if you can gain access to Goose Lake and see what is going on. I’ll clear everything with D.C., and I’ll get the Tampa office to set you up with an ID and everything you will need to get through airport screening. Just don’t call attention to yourself. In the meantime, you’ll just have to deal with avoiding HSA. We’ll set you up as a bison cattle inspector; that was always my cover if I needed one on the reservations back in the day.”
“John, I also had to leave Atlanta without any clothes…” Eve started. “And a bison inspector? Are you serious? I don’t know anything about bison…”
“Google it. Now, I’ll get in touch with the section chief there in Tampa when we hang up,” John interrupted. “I’ll have him get you an expense account somewhere to get some clothes for a few days, and toiletries and anything you need for a week or so.”