Out of Sight (Project Athena)

by Trish Milburn

  He stared back at her with no emotion showing, and despite her confrontation she thought he might give her the silent treatment again. Instead, he reached over and opened the door to his bedroom. Okay, he’d really have a fight on his hands if he thought that was the answer to their disagreements.

  “Just look inside,” he said in a tone that gave her that eerie feeling that he knew what she was thinking.

  Giving him the same hard stare she gave particularly difficult prisoners, she took two steps sideways and looked inside the illuminated room. Yes, it was a bedroom, but only a small dresser and twin bed occupied one corner. The rest of the space was an arsenal of weaponry and a high tech work station with computers, scanners, fax machines, video surveillance equipment — quite possibly the most expensive room in Virginia. The video screens drew her inside where she realized they were pointed toward all possible approaches to the house and were utilizing night vision technology.

  She turned in a circle, taking in all the equipment, then looked back at Daniel standing in the doorway. She grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and quickly scribbled “Is this place bugged?” and held it up where he could see it.

  “No. You’re free to talk here.”

  “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

  “You don’t.”

  “Then pardon me if I don’t believe you.”

  “If you’re not willing to believe me, why’d you ask?”

  Good question. He’d told her about the bugs in her town home and he hadn’t had to. But that could have been a ploy to gain her confidence. How in the world was she supposed to know? She hadn’t actually seen a listening device at her place, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. The interrogation room in the bowels of the agency building was proof enough of that.

  Daniel strolled over and leaned against one of the desks holding all the computer equipment. “I haven’t lied to you since we’ve met. You might not believe that, but I’m going to tell you anyway. And I’m going to tell you something you don’t want to hear. You’ll never be able to go back to the life you had before the agency found out about you.”

  “Now see, that’s where you’re wrong. Once we get this assassin taken care of, I fully intend to go back to work, back to my animals...” Her voice broke at what might have happened to Pegram after they sped away. “Back to my own house.”

  “You can do all that, but the agency will call on you again. And you’ll have to answer.”

  “They’re not going to like my answer. There are people who want these kinds of jobs. I’m not one of them.” She tried to sound confident, but her words lacked authority even to her own ears. He was right. How could she ever be truly free of these people when she knew that Elliott and his scalpel existed?

  “I’ll move, change my name if I have to. I won’t live like this.”

  “You don’t have a choice. And it doesn’t matter where you go, I’ll be able to find you.” He paused. “Even if I have to ride a snowmobile above the Arctic Circle.”

  She spun toward him. “How did you—?” The rest of the words wouldn’t form. How could he know she’d had that exact same thought not long after she’d met him? Unless.

  He evidently saw the suspicion. “That’s how I know you’ll never be totally free of the agency, because I’m in the same boat.”

  “But what? How?” She shook her head. “That’s not possible.”

  “What, me knowing what you thought? Is it any more impossible than you being able to make yourself invisible?” He grabbed her hand and lifted it to the base of his skull.

  What the heck was he doing?

  “Do you feel that?”

  It took her a moment to realize what he was talking about, but then she noticed the line of slightly puckered skin underneath his hair. She stepped behind him, and he didn’t move. She lifted his hair and saw a scar running from near the base of one ear to the other. She ran her fingers along it, and a cold chill scurried up her back.

  “That’s what happens when you buck the agency, proof that Elliott loves his job.”

  She covered her mouth, the terror more real now than even when she’d stood facing Elliott. Here was proof that he wasn’t just a scary man in a nightmare setting.

  Daniel turned slowly to face her. “That’s why I was so unyielding, trying to scare some sense into you. Personally, I like your attitude, but it’ll get you turned into that lab rat your mother worried you’d become.”

  Jenna stepped away, paced to the opposite side of the room. “Stop it! That’s so invasive, peeking at people’s thoughts.”

  “Don’t worry. I can’t just read your mind like a book. It doesn’t work that way. I don’t even control it or understand it. I just know that I get images, thoughts, impressions — and they’re never wrong. And Lord knows Elliott tried to figure it out poking through my brain. It gives me some satisfaction that he can’t figure it out either.”

  “I feel like this is all a dream and I’m going to wake up and write about it in some wild-ass novel.”

  “It’s no dream. Believe me.”

  They stared at each other, the night sounds barely audible above the hum coming from the computers. Though she didn’t know if she’d ever trust anyone completely again, she no longer felt alone in her world of oddity and the fear caused by it. Though she’d never seen Daniel show fear, no one could have his head sliced open and his brain prodded without it generating at least some deeply hidden fear of having it happen again and perhaps not turning out so well the next time.

  “How did they know about you?”

  “Let’s just say my mother had a penchant for trashy daytime talk shows and tried to get me on one after she figured out I was ‘psychic’.”

  “Tried? If she didn’t succeed, then how did the Feds find out about you?”

  “They have their ways.”

  “You must know. You’re the one who found me.”

  “I’m the one they sent for you. I don’t know who actually does the ferreting out of people like us. But they’re damn good at it.”

  “There are others?” Her life was feeling more like an X-Men movie with each passing day.

  “Yes. I don’t know how many or what all their abilities are. I’m fairly certain no one can fly or leap tall buildings in a single bound.” A hint of his teasing personality shone through the seriousness of the conversation. She nearly hugged him for it, for that tiny bit of light and levity.

  “Who are the people who run the agency? Do you know that?”

  He shook his head. “It’s secrecy veiled in secrecy. The man who has spoken to you through the intercom, he’s my immediate boss, but I get the feeling he’s several levels below the top.”

  “Have you ever been able to read his thoughts, to learn more about the agency.”

  “I can’t turn it on like that. And I only get snippets, but sometimes it’s slices of information that really matter for some reason. You remember the train that nearly crashed between D.C. and New York last year?”

  She started to say no, then remembered a headline. “The one where they got the anonymous tip that the tracks had been sabotaged?”

  He nodded. “I got a vision of the tracks and then the number on the train.”

  “You were the anonymous tipster. But I’m guessing you couldn’t figure out who did it.”

  “No, but as it happens they were caught anyway.”

  She looked at his face, trying to see the person he might have been had the agency not found him. “That’s a great ability to have, to help so many people.”

  “Yes, but it’s a huge burden when you can’t predict every catastrophe. I can barely stand to look at the paper and see all the stories about killings and bombings and wonder why I wasn’t able to save those people.” He paused, walked across the room. “The impressions are so random. Sometimes I feel like Luke Skywalker with Obi-Wan Kenobi talking in my brain. That’s how I figured out Patti had nothing to do with the notes. I felt like someone actually tol
d me that.”

  In all the days since they’d met, Jenna felt that she was seeing the real Daniel Webster for the first time. Sure, the cockiness and the expertise with which he did his job were real enough, but they weren’t who he was inside. She wasn’t about to lay her own soul bare, but the fact that he was meant a lot. It meant that though they barely knew each other, he was placing his trust in her. Part of her felt guilty for not being willing to do the same with him.

  Jenna sank into one of the swivel computer chairs. “I learned a long time ago that no one person can save everyone else. The numbers don’t allow it. And humanity is way too busy dreaming up new ways to kill and maim each other.”

  Daniel sat in a chair in front of the adjacent computer and wiggled the mouse to clear the screen saver. A list of names came up. She rolled her chair closer to his and scanned the portion of the list showing on the screen.

  “What’s that?”

  “The CIA agent database. If this guy’s an agent, we’ll find him.”

  Jenna dismissed one after another as Daniel clicked on the links and photos of each agent popped up on the screen.

  “How long have you worked for the agency?”

  “Part-time for ten years, full-time since I graduated college.”

  “You were an agent when you were still in school?”

  “Yes, since I was twelve.”

  “They put a child to work?”

  “Yeah, well, it didn’t seem like work at the time. And even now I have to admit I like some of what I do. We can take out the bad guys when no one else can because hardly anyone knows we exist. You can get a lot done when you don’t have to answer to congressional committees.”

  She had so many questions about what he’d done for the agency, where he’d been, but she recognized that all those topics could be addressed later. Now, they needed to work toward identifying who was penning the threats and bringing this case to a close. Maybe then she could go home. She tried not to think of Daniel’s assertion that she would be tied forever to the agency and the people who knew what she was.

  They worked their way through dozens of names of CIA agents, but none looked familiar. Her anxiety level rose as they came closer and closer to the end of the list without a match. What if after everything they’d done they still failed? Now was not the day and age when a presidential assassination could be handled without worldwide implications including potential attacks on the country during the resulting confusion.

  They’d been at their task for several hours and moved on to the databases for the FBI and the military branches before her hunger could no longer be denied. She rose, heard her bones and joints creak. Her stomach growled a loud protest at being ignored so long. “I’m hoping the kitchen is as well stocked as the closets.”

  “Fresh supplies delivered today.”

  That stopped her progress across the room. “How did you—?”

  “We are the proverbial well-oiled machine. Within minutes of my calling in, someone was here stocking the place with the necessary items.”

  “How could they possibly get all the stuff here in less than an hour?”

  “The clothes were already here. This case is high priority enough that we assumed we’d need the place at a moment’s notice. With the food, we have a standing order depending on which agent is going to ground. We just added some of your favorites to the list in case we needed them. Good thing.”

  Trying not to think about all the things these unseen people knew about her, Jenna headed for the kitchen. When she opened the refrigerator, it didn’t even surprise her to see a Chinese takeout box with a “J” on it alongside another with a “D” on it. She guessed it was extra precautions that the food fairy hadn’t spelled out their entire names. How did these people live with the constant state of paranoia?

  She warmed the sweet and sour shrimp and egg rolls in the microwave then sank into one of the kitchen chairs. She pushed her situation from her mind and focused on the case. She was missing something and quite frankly that ticked her off. She might have gotten coerced into this mission, but she was going to succeed now that she was in so deep.

  Even if they identified the man who’d met with Tumeri and Harmon, there was no guarantee he was working alone or even if he was the note writer. He could possibly be the architect but not the person tapped to carry out the hit. Why couldn’t she remember where she’d seen him before? A restaurant? The town house complex? On the Metro?

  She broke her fortune cookie, but unlike her e-mail fortunes, this one didn’t ring any bells. “Put something away for a rainy day” was the type of generic fortune she was used to, and it was comforting in a way.

  She slid a notepad and pen from the edge of the table toward her and started making notes about everyone she’d met inside the White House, everything they’d said, their expressions. Which were real possibilities and which were the equivalents of red herrings? She mulled that question as she ate. When her food was gone, she wadded up the list and threw it in the trash.

  One step at a time. First step — identify the man who probably had a bullet with her name on it.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Jenna woke early the next morning, an hour earlier than she normally got up for her shift at the White House. It took her a moment to realize Daniel was standing next to her bed looking down at her. “What the hell?” She raised to a sitting position. “Don’t you knock?”

  “No, as you well know.” He extended a cell phone toward her. “Call Patti and tell her you won’t be in for a few days. Tell her your mother was in a car accident.”

  “What?!” Her heart jumped into her throat.

  “Not your real mother,” he said with obvious exasperation. “We had to find a way you could be away from work again without Patti asking too many questions.”

  Jenna took the phone and rubbed her hand over her face to wipe away the lingering sleepiness. “What do I say?”

  “You’re going to get her machine at work, so just sound distraught. Tell her your mother was injured in a car wreck and you’re on your way to Georgia. That you’ll call back when you know when you’ll return to work. That’s open-ended enough to buy us some time.” He turned and left the room, closing the door behind him.

  Jenna stared at the phone in her hand. Okay, acting time. She had to sound upset so she needed to think of something that would put her near tears. Pegram’s big brown eyes looking up at her with unconditional love. Her eyes stung, and a giant lump formed in her throat.

  With a deep breath, she punched in the number to Patti’s office. Expecting the machine, she was startled when Patti answered.

  “Uh, yeah, Patti. This is Jenna Walker.” She relayed the limited information Daniel had given her, cursing silently that he’d assured her she’d get the machine and wondering why Patti was in so early.

  When Patti started to ask questions Jenna didn’t know the answers to, Jenna altered her speech to make it sound like the cell phone connection was breaking up and praying it came across as authentic. “The service isn’t good here. I’m going through the mountains. I’ll call you back later.”

  Jenna ended the call and tossed the phone to the foot of the bed. All the lies were beginning to wear on her. How did anyone lie for a living? The stress of remembering when you were in a lying world versus the real world was enormous. She massaged her temples against the headache already building before she even got out of bed.

  Not ready to face Daniel or whatever else the day held in store for her, she slogged to the shower and turned it on full blast — but not before locking the bathroom door so Daniel didn’t make another unscheduled appearance outside her shower curtain. Instead of screaming this time, she might well deck him. And even with the beginning of a killer headache, she didn’t figure popping her only ally in the nose was a particularly good move.

  For endless minutes, she stood still and let the spray of the water batter her. And then it hit her — the inability to hold everything inside anymore. With
out making a sound Daniel might detect, she let the tears mingle with the stream of water running over her. She’d been blackmailed, tempted with the possibility her father was still alive but with no recent proof, threatened with life as a lab rat, nearly assassinated a dictator, and quite possibly had lost her best canine companion. What had she done to deserve all this besides be born with an ability she didn’t understand nor sometimes even want?

  She cried for only a short time, but it seemed to relieve some of the pressure that had been building in her chest. After getting out of the shower, she did her best to alleviate the tell-tale red and puffy eyelids by holding a cold, wet washcloth to her eyes with one hand while brushing her teeth with the other.

  Jenna examined her reflection in the mirror and decided the day called for sunglasses. Unfortunately, she doubted Daniel would buy she was wearing them because of the brightness of the canary yellow kitchen.

  “You planning on coming out today?” Daniel asked from the other side of the door.

  “Eventually.”

  Jenna looked in the mirror again and fanned her eyes with her hands. Oh screw it. Garbed in a bathrobe, she pulled open the door and strode across the living area back to her room to dress. “All yours.” She didn’t look toward the kitchen where she could hear Daniel poking around so he wouldn’t see her eyes. By the time she dressed and he showered, they should look relatively normal.

  “Hey.”

  Damn.