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“So who am I and where am I going?”
Lucas and Casey exchanged a look. The tension started in Vince’s gut, but swiftly worked its way up his back to his shoulders. He didn’t like that look. It could only mean trouble right up front.
In this business, starting off on the wrong foot or one step behind could be a very bad thing.
“Port Charlotte, Virginia,” Lucas said in answer to his second question. “It’s a college town off Highway 1 between Woodbridge and Fredericksburg. Yu and his team share a large rental house there. Three of the group are enrolled in the university. In their spare time they’ve been training in the art of surgical demolitions. We know how Yu is getting his orders. We just can’t catch Kovner in the act. We need to tie him to WSA.”
Vince wasn’t the top demo expert in Mission Recovery but he was pretty damned good. There had to be some other reason he’d been chosen. His director’s next words told him the question was written on his face.
“We selected you for this mission,” Casey told him in answer to his unspoken inquiry, “because we need your particular multilingual skills in the event it becomes an issue and we need someone who can handle the demo aspect of the assignment.”
Vince was fluent in seven languages. But he knew that wasn’t the only reason he’d been chosen. All Specialists were multilingual. The tension radiating between the two men seated across from him was too intense for it to be so simple.
“The CIA operative involved is the first to field test a new memory implant,” Lucas went on. “The purpose of the implant is to keep an operative out of trouble if the cover is in jeopardy. When the implant is activated the operative’s own memory is suppressed and effectively replaced by the cover profile in the implant. Nothing, not drugs or torture, will induce the operative into confessing, since he or she becomes the cover profile.”
“That’s a new one.” Vince was familiar with the CIA’s reputation for experimental projects. “So when the implant is activated, the Company knows the operative is in jeopardy?” Vince also knew that CIA operatives were closely monitored. They’d been using tracking devices for years now.
Lucas nodded. “Since this is the first time they’ve even had a lead on this so-called World Security Agency, they don’t want to lose this operative. If the mission is salvageable, they want it completed. But if it’s not, your job is to try to get the operative out safely. The implant, if functioning properly, is only temporary. Time is very short.”
Vince nodded his understanding. “Sounds easy enough. Tell me about the operative.”
“Katrina Moore. Age twenty-seven.” Lucas ticked off the details. “She’s been with the Company since being rejected by the SEALs four years ago.”
Kat. Things went very quiet inside Vince as the memories from four years ago came flooding back on a tidal wave. Conflicting emotions tugged at him…renewed the regret that never really went away.
“The two of you have a history?” Casey said, no doubt reading Vince’s startled expression or somehow having prior knowledge. But that was impossible. No one knew…
Hesitant to admit something so intensely private, Vince finally nodded once. “Yeah, kind of. I was one of her instructors in BUDS.” Both men knew that BUDS—Basic Underwater Demolition SEALs—was the most rigorous personnel training outfit in the Navy.
“Which she failed,” Lucas remarked.
Failed wasn’t the right word. Kat had been doomed from the word go. The elite Navy SEALs didn’t want women among their ranks. No matter if she was good enough. Kat was as good as any of the men, better than some, but that fact hadn’t changed the bottom line. The powers that be had drummed up an acceptable reason to performance drop her and it was done. She’d felt betrayed when she hadn’t made the cut.
She’d felt betrayed by Vince.
And rightly so. Though his vote alone wouldn’t have made any real difference in the end, he’d caved and followed the antiquated rules. He’d voted against her…despite what he thought…despite what they’d shared.
“Yeah,” he said in answer to Lucas’s prodding. “But it wasn’t because she wasn’t good enough,” he clarified quickly. “She was a woman. That was the only reason.”
“Do you think she holds that failure against you?” Casey asked.
“Not entirely,” he admitted after a tense moment. “She knows it was not my decision alone.” He looked Casey straight in the eye. “But she has other reasons to resent me that are far more personal than that.”
Lucas laughed, but the sound held no humor. “The two of you had a thing going during training and you betrayed her?” He shook his head. “Son, haven’t you ever heard of the term ‘fraternization’? They could have hung you for that. She could have ruined your career.”
But she hadn’t. The cold reality of that truth sank all the way to Vince’s bones. She could have had her revenge. What he’d done had been wrong in more ways than one. He’d disgraced himself, whether anyone else ever knew it or not—had allowed a weakness. For that reason he had walked away from his hard-earned career. Because he hadn’t been worthy of it any longer.
A full year later Lucas Camp had knocked on his door and offered him a way to redeem himself professionally. But nothing had assuaged his conscience where Kat was concerned. There had been no way to make that right.
Until now…maybe.
“That’s right,” he snapped. “I screwed her over and she hated me for it.” He swallowed, the effort difficult. Those demons haunted him…made him regret a great deal more than either of their failed career moves. “I can’t say that I blame her, but it’s done. I can’t change it now. And she didn’t have to end my career. I made an unforgivable mistake. I resigned because of it.”
“So your personal reasons for leaving your military career were more personal than you led us to believe. This should make things interesting,” Lucas said as he flipped through what was probably Kat’s file.
“Maybe you’d better pick someone else for this assignment,” Vince suggested tightly. “Not that I don’t want to do it, but Kat—Miss Moore—might be more receptive to someone else. My presence might actually put her in more jeopardy. I don’t want that.” He wouldn’t do anything that might hurt her. No way.
“That’s not possible,” Lucas said succinctly.
The tension in Vince’s gut ratcheted up another notch or two. “Why not?” he asked—demanded actually. “Sending me in could be a big mistake.”
“There’s a back door built into the implant,” Lucas explained grimly. “For this very scenario. To facilitate a retrieval, the implant was designed with what the Company calls a Romeo option. All you have to do is say the code phrase and Katrina will instantly recognize you as the lover with whom she’s still involved.”
Vince held out both hands stop-sign fashion. “Wait just a minute.” He dropped his hands and exhaled a heavy breath. “I’m telling you the woman hates me. I don’t think any implant is going to change that deeply ingrained emotion. The second she sees my face, the mission will be blown all to hell.”
Lucas pointed a no-arguments look in Vince’s direction. “Maybe she does hate you. But that’s neither here nor there, Ferrelli. The fact of the matter is that she used you for her Romeo profile. You’re the only man for this mission. If Katrina Moore was willing to bet her life on you, then who are we to dispute the issue?”
Vince felt stunned.
Lucas leaned forward slightly when Vince remained speechless. “She described you down to the very last detail.” He lifted a skeptical eyebrow. “I think maybe her memory was a little dim in some areas.”
Vince didn’t find any of it amusing. His concern for Kat’s safety mushroomed in tandem with his dread, but he didn’t ask a single question while Lucas rattled off the rest of the details of the mission. The whole thing felt like a dream…not necessarily a bad dream, but one that made him extremely uneasy.
Payback, Vince decided. It couldn’t be anything else. A second or two later his mind had wrapped fully around the concept. It was the perfect chance for Kat to get even with him. A part of him wanted to think otherwise, but he knew better. He’d hurt her too badly. He would never forget the look in those big green eyes when she learned that she’d been performance dropped from the graduating class for no real reason.
She’d left and he hadn’t seen her since. But he’d thought about her now and then…and every moment in between.
He’d thought about her every day for four years, but he’d stopped trying to keep tabs on her after she joined the Company, the revered CIA.
One way or another he wouldn’t let her down this time.
NEARLY AN HOUR LATER the limo braked to a stop next to Vince’s Harley in the parking lot of the Lady Liberty Lounge. The place was still jumping, the lot still overflowing and the music thumping all the louder through the thin exterior walls. Vince wondered vaguely if the blonde had made up with her flyboys.
In the last fifty minutes they’d discussed one-by-one the team members with whom Kat was involved. Vince now had a clear mental picture of each. Only one, Philip Yu himself, worried Vince.
“Any questions?” Lucas asked, studying Vince closely.
The guy was way too smart and read people far too easily. Lucas recognized that Vince had a real problem with this mission, but he’d do what he had to.
Retrieving Kat was priority one. Though, technically, salvaging the mission was supposed to be his first goal, this one was personal. Even Casey had to see that. They couldn’t expect anything else under the circumstances. Casey didn’t have to say it and he wouldn’t. Thomas Casey was a man of few words. No one really knew him, except maybe Lucas.
“I think I’ve got it.” Vince reached for the door handle. He’d pack and get on the road before dawn. He wanted to see firsthand as soon as possible that Kat was safe.
“Don’t try to intercept the target until she’s alone,” Casey suggested. “We have no way of knowing her status. She may fully believe she’s the enemy she was assigned to infiltrate. That would be the best case scenario. If,” he went on grimly, “the implant has malfunctioned and the code doesn’t trigger the right response, you could be putting yourself in serious jeopardy.”
Vince met that intense blue gaze. “I won’t approach while she’s with the others unless there’s no other window of opportunity.”
Casey dipped his head in acknowledgment. “If too much risk is involved, back off. We’ll send in an entire team. The CIA won’t like it, but they’ll live with it.”
“Yes, sir.” Vince nodded to Lucas then climbed out of the vehicle. Before turning away he tapped on the closed window, then waited for it to power down to reveal Lucas’s expectant expression. “Who’s got my back on this one?” Vince asked, just now remembering that he should. Of course, the information would be in the mission profile.
“Callahan.”
Perfect. Blue Callahan was the best sharp shooter in the bunch—even if she was a girl. Vince couldn’t help smiling at the irony of the situation.
“That’s great,” he said to Lucas.
“Glad you approve.” Lucas started to power up the window but hesitated. “Not that it would have made any difference,” he added pointedly before sending the darkly tinted window the rest of the way up.
Vince watched as the limousine disappeared down the next block. Lucas Camp was easy to work for. He was straight up and in your face. The director was another story. Vince would never understand Thomas Casey. Just when he thought he had the guy figured out, he goes and says something totally out of character. As though he really cared about the people who worked for him or something.
Maybe he did. Then again, maybe he just didn’t want to look bad to the Company hotshots breathing down his neck on this one.
Shaking his head, Vince straddled his Harley. He inserted the key and gave it a quick flick. The perfectly tuned engine roared to life. He could spend a lifetime studying a guy like Casey and never understand what made him tick. But right now he had something much more important to do.
He had to get close to Kat. Had to keep her safe. Even if she didn’t want him to.
If she did accept him, it would only be the implant, not the real Kat, he reminded himself. The real Kat had most likely forgotten all about him long ago.
Vince released the clutch and rocketed toward the street. She might have forgotten, but he would never forget.
Chapter Two
The headache was worse today.
Kat squeezed her eyes shut and tried to banish the pain, but it just wouldn’t go away. She couldn’t remember when it had begun…days ago…a week? It just kept getting worse. The bouts closer together. More intense.
Forcing her eyes open, she stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Aspirin didn’t help. Nothing helped. She blew out a long, slow breath. She had to pull it together. In three minutes she had to be ready to perform.
Kat splashed some cool water on her face in the hope of clearing the haze that accompanied the insistent pounding in her brain. That attempt proved useless, as well. She groped blindly for a paper towel. The holder was empty. She muttered her favorite swearword and wiped the moisture from her face the best she could with the backs of her hands. That was the thing about public bathrooms. One could never count on the necessary paper to finish the job.
Turning her head side to side to check the neatly coiled bun, Kat tucked a stray, fiery red curl behind her ear and smoothed her moist palms over her hair. She studied herself a moment longer than necessary, something about the person staring back at her didn’t sit exactly right, but she couldn’t put her finger on the problem.
Kat shrugged. Nothing she could do about that, either. She looked herself over again, then, satisfied with what she saw, slipped on the large, black-framed eyeglasses that were part of her disguise. She slid a hand over the jacket of her gray business suit, finding comfort in the tiny bulge in the waistband of her skirt that was for emergency use only. She preferred a 9 mm, but the .38 proved easier to conceal.
No one was supposed to die today.
Still, she wasn’t about to go into this without a way to defend herself if things went to hell in a hurry. And that could happen. Another of those things she somehow understood without knowing how.
Inhaling, then exhaling another bolstering breath, Kat picked up her brown leather briefcase and left the inadequately supplied ladies’ room.
Two minutes and counting.
At a quarter of noon, Union Station was crowded. She’d taken the time this morning as she entered D.C.’s famous train gateway to the capital to note the neoclassical facade. Inside the cavernous marble-floored lobby she’d felt the rumble of the trains below as they entered the station. It was all so familiar…comforting. She felt at home here but she had no clue why. Had she lived near here in the past? Been a regular commuter? She shook her head. She was being silly. A person remembered the places she’d lived. Paranoia, that’s all. She was just being paranoid.
The sound of the announcer singing out the track and time for the next Metroliner jerked her attention back to the task at hand. Some part of her that she didn’t understand and that was pure, well-honed survival instinct, kept the pain at bay as she focused on what had to be done. She just pushed through the throng of hurrying commuters and toward the down escalator.
Though she couldn’t name any precise instances at the moment, she’d done this sort of thing for years. She knew it as well as she knew her name, but wasn’t exactly sure how she knew. Kat was completely at ease with tracking a human target. She’d done it a thousand times. The basis of that fact also eluded her. It simply felt second nature.
God, what was wrong with her lately? She knew who and what she was…she just couldn’t get right with it all. It was as if a brick wall stood between her and the answers she desperately needed. It was weird.
Too weird.
But, like the headaches, she couldn’t think about that right now. She damn sure couldn’t let any of her cohorts see her inner struggle. Too many of them already wanted her out. Regrettably, out was synonymous with dead.
Her target moved toward the loading platform where he would catch the Metroliner to New York’s Penn Station. Kat closed in. Once in Manhattan he would rendezvous with his superiors at the new CIA branch office. In his briefcase he carried documents that would mislead those who interpreted them and cause a very important ongoing mission to blow up in their faces.
Kat had to prevent that from happening.
She was a good guy. One of her country’s invisible saviors. Countries all over the globe had them…all commissioned by the World Security Agency.
The world’s savior.
A frown inched across her brow as something deep inside her shifted, nudged her. As everything else, she couldn’t name it or understand it.
The man in the blue pin-striped suit standing only a dozen feet from Kat was no bad guy himself. He had no idea that his assistant was a mole for one of the CIA’s archenemies. It was Kat’s job to intercept the intelligence documents in the briefcase, thus preventing the planned catastrophe without any bloodshed or violence at all. Before the mole could arrange a second attempt he would be discovered and dealt with accordingly.
The briefcase Kat carried was an exact duplicate of the one her target carried. Expensive, elegant. Just like the thousand-dollar suit he wore. Kat watched the man’s body language. He was confident, impatient. In a hurry to get to his destination and get this done. Failure would be a disappointment not only to his superiors but also to him. But he’d get over it. Eventually he’d look back on today as nothing more than a temporary setback to his career.
Kat had just ninety seconds to make the switch before he boarded the arriving passenger train.
A screeching, hissing rush of air that seemed to fill the entire waiting area announced the train’s arrival as it slowed to a stop at the loading platform. In seconds the waiting passengers would be allowed to board.
She had to move now.
Bracing herself for the impact, Kat began to walk faster. Faster. She slammed headlong into her target. He stumbled back several steps, the briefcase in his hand falling to the floor. Kat dropped her own case as she used his tall frame to regain her balance.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” she cried.
He reached to steady her—chivalry too deeply entrenched to ignore, despite his years of training—and at the same time demanded, “Are you all right?”
Kat smiled engagingly as she played the part of the flustered, in-a-hurry passenger. “Oh, yes. I’m…I’m fine.” She reached for the briefcase, tracing one fingertip over the lock mechanism to make sure she had his instead of her own. The locking mechanism of the briefcase she’d carried had a slight burr in the metal in a certain spot so she’d recognize it. “I wasn’t watching where I was going. I’m so late!” She eased back just one step and pressed a hand to her chest as if to slow her palpitating heart. “I am so very sorry.”
His answering smile told her he didn’t suspect a thing. “No harm done.” He straightened his jacket and reached for the remaining briefcase. “Have a nice day.”
For one tension-filled second, before she turned away, he stared at the briefcase she held half hidden behind her short skirt. She hoped her legs would distract him.
Her heart skidded to a stop as time lapsed into slow motion.
She held her breath.
If he suspected her now—
The legs did the trick.
His gaze roved the length of her long, athletic limbs. She’d worked hard to keep them that way, and it was paying off now. The realization startled her for reasons that totally escaped her. A tremble started deep inside her. She was losing it…she had to get out of here.
Other passengers abruptly brushed past the man still staring at her, jerking him back to attention. He blinked, forced a grim smile and quickly turned away to board the train, a bemused frown still marring his brow.
