by MC Lee
“Lost something?” she asked brightly.
Jack grimaced. “I thought I put some of my old school magazines into my backpack this morning. I was thinking of joining the yearbook committee if they’ll have me.”
“You worked on your school magazine?” Freya said, her eyes widening. “What did you do?”
Jack shrugged. “I wrote a few articles, took some photos. Nothing too major.”
“That’s totally major, Jack!” she said enthusiastically. “It just so happens I know the student body editor. I could put in a good word if you want.”
“That would be great,” Jack said. “Any chance it’s one of your things?” He knew the answer; it had been part of his research into Freya the night before.
“It’s me, idiot,” she said, laughing out loud. “I’m the yearbook’s student body editor.”
He grinned. “Are there any clubs you don’t run at this school?”
“What can I say? I’m an overachiever. Why don’t you come by the art class at noon? I’ll introduce you to the team.”
“And put in a good word?” Jack said.
She inclined her head. “I have a feeling the yearbook editor will like you.”
Jack fell into step beside her as she walked toward the school’s entrance, deciding he would do a little digging of a more personal nature.
“Leo seems like a great guy,” he said. “Have you been friends long?”
“It’s so weird you should say that! He’s only been at the school for a couple of weeks, but we clicked right away. I feel as though I’ve known him all my life.”
Leo really was good at his job, Jack thought appreciatively. He had put Freya at ease effortlessly, had become fast friends without triggering suspicion, and had figured out something was off with the assignment—all in a matter of days.
“I haven’t been able to persuade him to join any of my after-school clubs, though,” Freya continued, her nose wrinkling.
Jack knew exactly which scenario Leo was running. The Center taught its operatives to establish common ground but to let the target come to them. Appearing too eager made some marks cautious and had them retreating before contact could be established. Jack wondered fleetingly whether he had come on too strong too soon, but Freya didn’t seem put off by his interest. Besides, she had already signaled her attraction, although Jack was pretty sure she hadn’t realized it.
“I ran into another friend of yours yesterday,” Jack said innocently. “Ryan Anderson. What’s his deal?”
Freya sent a bewildered look his way. “I’m not sure I’d call him a friend exactly. I mean, I thought he was. When he started here a couple of months ago he was super friendly, but now I can barely get a pleasant word out of him.”
The pieces were starting to fit together. If Anderson was an operative with the same mission as Leo, he would have done exactly what Leo did—tried to befriend the target and attempt to gain her trust.
“I thought because we were both the new kids in school—”
“You’re new too?” Jack cut in.
“More or less,” Freya said. “We moved here when my dad was offered a new job.” She grimaced. “I wasn’t so keen on coming, but Dad said it was such a huge promotion for him.”
“What does your dad do?” Jack asked.
“He’s a systems analyst. He used to work for the government, but then this new company recruited him. Now he works for a place called Informa Tech.”
Some more of the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. Sean had told him the Center solicited referrals from their sources in various government departments. It now seemed obvious that once a potential recruit was identified, the Center had the person transferred to Informa Tech to complete an assessment before deciding what to do next.
“That’s where my brother works,” he exclaimed.
“God, isn’t that a coincidence?”
Jack didn’t deny it, although, of course, it wasn’t true. There was absolutely nothing coincidental about Dominic Moore being lured to a company that was a front for the Center.
“I wonder what happened to make Ryan cool off so much?” Jack said.
Freya shrugged. “I don’t know if it’s something I did. But a few weeks ago, he practically stopped talking to me.”
A few weeks ago. Just about the time Leo arrived on the scene. The picture was definitely getting clearer. Anderson had rearranged his priorities and was hanging back, most likely waiting for Leo to show his hand and make his move.
Noon saw Jack hurrying to the art class, which doubled as a meeting room for the yearbook committee. Freya’s face lit up when he walked in.
“I’m really glad you made it.” She introduced the four other members of the team, all of whom Jack had hastily studied as part of his research into the assignment, though he initially pretended to have trouble keeping their names straight.
“We’re working on the club pages right now,” Freya said. “You said you were a photographer for your last school newspaper. Would you mind if I assigned you to the same position? We want to cover as many events as possible, and Liam’s stretched too thin.”
Liam, who Jack recognized from three of his classes, turned his head when he heard his name.
“I could really use the help. You’ve probably figured out this place is insanely busy. I can’t photograph all the events and keep up with all my own stuff.”
“No problem. I don’t have too much on my plate outside regular classes. Count me in.”
“That’s settled, then,” Freya said. “Let me get a list of the upcoming events. You and Liam can divide them up between you. In the meantime here’s a printout of all the school’s clubs and their membership. Why don’t you start there?”
Jack smiled as he settled at an empty desk. It took him less than four minutes to come up with a list of the clubs he intended to focus on. When Liam ambled over with the upcoming events, Jack quickly cross-referenced his list with Liam’s and devised a plan that suited his own agenda. He had no trouble persuading Liam to choose the events Jack wasn’t interested in, the manipulation so subtle that Liam believed he had made the choices himself.
In the end Jack had exactly what he needed: he would cover the clubs Freya Moore and Ryan Anderson were members of. That he also ended up with the majority of Leo’s extracurricular activities was a bonus nobody else needed to know about.
JACK’S FIRST assignment as photographer came after school when he swung by the chess club Freya and Ryan both attended. The main thing he accomplished was to confirm his growing suspicion that Anderson was something other than a regular high school student.
Freya beckoned him over when he walked into the math classroom at the end of the day to find the ten-person chess team already bent over their boards.
“Guys, give me a minute,” she said, raising her voice slightly, even though the room was already mostly silent. All eyes immediately focused on her. “This is Jack Corrigan,” she continued, waving in his direction. “He’s our new yearbook photographer. He’s going to be roaming about taking pictures. Any objections?”
Jack glanced around the room at the kids shaking their heads and mumbling that they were fine with it. Ryan Anderson was doing exactly the same as the other kids, but his shoulders hunched slightly, and the expression on his face was too resolutely blank. Jack had spent countless hours being taught to control his body language, and countless more learning that neutrality was rarely the right response in a high school kid. Anderson was obviously trying to hide his real reaction, and it wasn’t hard for Jack to figure out why.
“I need a couple of action shots,” he said. “You guys just carry on. Pretend I’m not here.”
He let the kids return to their games before he started circling the classroom. He stopped beside each of the boards in turn to watch the players, although he didn’t raise his camera just yet. He wanted the kids to get used to his presence and to fully return their attention to their matches before he started taking photographs.
>
Anderson was playing rapid chess with Zachary Lewis, a classmate Jack had not yet been introduced to, although he recognized Lewis from his research. When Jack raised his camera, Anderson’s head turned fractionally so his face was mostly hidden. Jack snapped off a shot anyway and drifted to the next table.
He continued to take photos for about fifteen minutes and was just clicking through them when Freya excused herself from her game and crossed the floor to look over his shoulder.
“They’re perfect,” she said. “You’ve got a great eye.”
“Not sure you can go wrong with this setup,” Jack replied, grinning at her.
“You’re being too modest. You’ve really caught the intensity of some of the games. Go back a couple.”
Jack clicked back through the shots.
“There!” Freya exclaimed. “That one really shows what chess is all about.”
It was a shot of Ryan, one Jack had tried to take surreptitiously. He was convinced Anderson hadn’t seen him aim the camera, but he had somehow managed to duck his head at the last minute. It appeared to be a picture of fierce concentration, with Anderson bowed over the board, only the top of his head showing.
“I think you’ve really got it,” Freya said excitedly.
She was obviously looking at something quite different. All Jack saw was a series of shots in which Ryan Anderson’s face was turned, covered, or shadowed. For Jack’s purposes, he hadn’t gotten it at all.
“I like this one,” he said.
He turned the screen toward Freya to show her a picture of herself, looking directly into the camera.
She blushed. “Not exactly the image we want to cultivate for the club.”
“Works for me,” Jack said, smiling as her cheeks darkened.
“Let’s stick with Ryan and Zach,” she said firmly. “Great job, Jack. I’m so glad you’re working with us.”
“Me too, Freya,” Jack said softly, his eyes locking with hers. He recognized the instant she picked up on his subtle flirtation by the way her pupils dilated, and though he hated to string her along, he followed Martin’s orders and allowed his smile to become more intimate.
“SO ANDERSON doesn’t like having his photograph taken,” Leo mused.
“I don’t think I suck too badly at taking covert shots,” Jack said. “But I couldn’t get a single photo of him full face. He was definitely avoiding the camera.”
“Interesting.”
Jack gave him a couple of minutes to process the information as they walked out of school and turned right onto Hudson Street. Freya had reluctantly refused his invitation to grab a cup of coffee with Leo, telling Jack she had to meet her father for dinner. Jack pretended disappointment, though he was secretly happy he’d get to spend thirty minutes alone with Leo.
“Has Martin dug anything up?” Jack asked.
“Nothing so far.” Leo steered Jack through the door of Starbucks and into an empty booth, and a few minutes later he returned with two steaming mugs of coffee.
“Wish you could come home with me,” Leo murmured. “But Martin thinks we should play it cool for a couple of days. We don’t want to look too friendly too soon.”
“Are you still being followed?” Jack supposed he should have asked the question yesterday on their way to Leo’s apartment, but his mind had been on other, much more pleasant, things.
“No. That stopped just after you arrived,” Leo said. “It was a pretty halfhearted effort.”
“Maybe you’re just not interesting enough,” Jack said, his lips twitching.
“Could be,” Leo agreed genially. “And personally, I’d prefer to keep it that way. How are you getting on with Freya?”
“Fine.” Jack dropped his gaze, suddenly finding his coffee cup particularly interesting. It still made him uncomfortable to talk about other people in front of Leo, even though he knew Leo could handle it.
“It’s just the job,” Leo murmured, as Jack knew he would.
“I know,” he protested, but he couldn’t bring himself to look back into Leo’s eyes.
Leo sighed. “Let’s change the subject. How are things working out with Evan? This is your first time in the field together, right?”
“He’s great,” Jack said, finally raising his head. “I mean, he’s a total freak when it comes to maintaining my fitness levels. He drags me out running twice a day, and that’s on top of a weight program. But he’s really cool about everything else.”
“Sounds like a good big brother. I’m glad you’re getting a chance at a more or less normal life for a while.”
Jack had told Leo a little about his past—as much as he could without breaking the Center’s cardinal rule against discussing previous assignments—so Leo knew he had always operated within strict parameters, no less severe than conditions inside the Center’s compound. He had caught tantalizing glimpses of a real teenager’s life on other missions but had rarely come close to a “normal” life. Even though he’d lived in a family unit during his last assignment, it had been headed by Sean, the man who set the rules both inside and outside the Center and who could read Jack like a book. He had upheld structured and exacting standards.
So far this assignment was the most easygoing Jack had ever worked. Evan was a whole lot less formal than anybody else at the Center, though he was still one of Jack’s instructors and didn’t let much slide.
Jack grinned. “Ask me again in a couple of weeks. Speaking of Evan, I need to get back home. He wants to go back over some of our research.”
“Anything in particular?” Leo asked.
Jack grimaced. “He wants to discuss the protocols for strengthening the connection with a target. Whatever the hell that means!”
Leo’s eyebrows climbed. “He wants to give you dating advice,” he said dryly. “You might want to take notes.”
Chapter Thirteen
LEO’S PREDICTION was disturbingly on the money, and an hour later Jack’s mouth dropped open when Evan sat him down at the breakfast bar and said, “You and I need to have a little talk about your relationship with Freya Moore.”
Jack’s eyes widened. “Jesus, Evan! Do we have to?”
Evan shrugged. “No, we don’t.”
Jack’s sigh of relief was audible. And premature.
“You can wait until you report in to Sean,” Evan continued. “He said he’d be happy to go over all this with you again.”
Jack buried his head in his hands. “Oh fu—”
“Finish that thought out loud and you’ll regret it,” Evan cut in mildly.
Jack looked up, the unfinished obscenity hanging in the air between them. “Don’t you think you’re taking this big brother thing too literally?”
“Hey, kiddo, I’m just the messenger. Take it up with Sean if you don’t like it.”
Jack threw up his hands in defeat. “Okay. Let’s have it.”
In the end it wasn’t as mortifying as Jack had imagined. Evan delivered the same lecture Sean had already given him—several times—before asking, “Any questions?”
Jack glanced at Evan and then looked away quickly.
“Come on, Jack. Spill.”
“I don’t want to take things too far with Freya,” he mumbled. “She’s going to have a lot to handle. I don’t want to lead her on and then leave her hanging when she needs a friend the most.”
He kept his head down, waiting for the inevitable reprimand and another lecture on why he was here. When it didn’t come, he risked a look at Evan’s face.
“God, you are such a sweet kid,” Evan marveled.
Jack felt his face flame with embarrassment. “What the fuck, man,” he muttered. He ducked automatically, and Evan’s slap to the back of his head mostly missed.
“A sweet kid with a foul mouth that just earned him an extra-long run,” Evan said. “Go get your gear on.”
Jack slid off his seat and started toward his bedroom, glad to escape the combination birds-and-bees sermon and lesson in humiliation. He almost groaned o
ut loud when Evan called his name. He turned and looked at his instructor warily.
“You just need to keep Freya distracted. Nothing more, okay?” Evan said. “We need to give Leo time to figure out who’s investigating him, and Martin time to make his arrangements. In fact I’m going to advise you not to get too involved. She doesn’t need the heartbreak, and you don’t need the pressure. Understand?”
“Yeah. Thanks, Evan,” Jack said gratefully.
Evan grinned. “Hey. That’s what big brothers are for. Now scoot. You might not be quite so grateful when I’ve run your ass into the ground!”
THE NEXT day Jack couldn’t help wishing Freya had received the same advice from Evan. She was waiting for him at the school gates, and when she saw him, a smile lit her pretty face.
“Hey, Jack. I stayed late last night and started the layout for the yearbook club pages. I’ve picked a couple of your photos of the chess club. Do you want to swing by at lunchtime and see how they look?”
Jack pasted on a smile. “Sounds great. But I have to photograph the cross-country team’s practice today.”
Her face fell, and Jack felt his heart stir. She was going to have to face a world of crap pretty soon when her father “disappeared.” Although he didn’t want to lead her on, he did want to be there for her when her world fell to pieces.
“Why don’t you come with me?” he suggested.
He winced when she brightened noticeably.
“Sounds like a plan. You know Leo is on the team? He’s really good too.”
Jack did know. He also knew Ryan Anderson had joined the cross-country team within days of Leo showing up at Bayfield Heights High School. It was hard to believe it was a coincidence.
Jack swung by the art class at lunchtime to sign out the camera and then met Freya at the field out back of the school. Although Bayfield Heights might not be competitive, its facilities were first-class, and a full-length running track encircled a central playing field. The cross-country team was already assembled and performing warm-up sprints.