by John Sneeden
After glancing around to make sure no one was sitting close by, Drenna used her phone’s browser to pull up the number of her sister’s employer, a small CPA firm in Georgetown. It was the only safe way to make contact. Someone might have tapped Elena’s personal phone, but Drenna doubted they would go to the trouble of tapping her employer’s phone.
Drenna found Elena’s direct number but decided to dial the company’s main line instead.
“Crannock and Smythe. How may I direct your call?” a woman asked.
“Elena Steel, please.”
“Please hold.”
As she waited to be connected, Drenna wondered what her sister’s reaction would be. She hoped Elena would understand why there had been no real contact until then and why there couldn’t be much going forward.
A voice interrupted her thoughts. “This is Elena.”
“Hey, it’s me.”
There was a long pause. Drenna could hear uneven breathing on the other end.
“What the heck?” Elena finally said.
“I know. I’m sorry—”
“Hang on.”
Drenna heard the squeak of a chair followed by the sound of heeled shoes walking across a floor. A few seconds later, she heard a door close, followed by steps coming back toward the phone.
“Where are you?” Elena asked after picking up the phone again. “I’ve been worried sick.”
“I’m fine. Please, trust me… I’m fine.”
“That’s good to hear, but you didn’t answer my question.”
“I’m still in West Virginia,” Drenna said.
“You’re not a very good liar.”
“I need you to promise me something.”
Elena finally spoke. “Promise you what?”
“You can’t ask me any questions about where I am or what I’m doing.”
“So I’m just supposed to sit here and wait for periodic updates from my sister, who is apparently being hunted by—”
“Please. I’m probably safer now than I’ve ever been in this line of work. You have to trust me on this.”
There was another pause, this one even longer than before.
“So how are you doing?” Elena finally asked. “I mean, Trevor and that whole…”
Just the mention of his name made Drenna’s eyes sting. She reached up and wiped each one with a sleeve. “I didn’t know something could be so painful. You know me. I’ve always blocked my emotions until both of these…” Drenna stopped, realizing she had almost revealed she had visited Miranda.
“I barely knew Trevor, and I’ve been crying my eyes out,” Elena said in a soft voice.
“I can’t even sleep.” Drenna took a sip of her latte to moisten her throat. “I guess I’ve built up this tough façade over the years, and Trevor’s death caused the whole thing to come crashing down.”
“Where are you? I need to see you. Hug you.” Elena sniffed on the other end. “You’re my sister, for heaven’s sake.”
“You know I can’t see you until this is all over.”
“When will that be?” Elena asked.
“I can’t say.” Drenna lowered her voice, even though there was no one close to her. “I need to find the people who killed Trevor.”
“Doesn’t the FBI handle this sort of thing? Let them handle it. You can stay at my house until this whole thing is over.”
“They think I’m dead.”
“You don’t know that. And even if they do, you can tell them you’re still alive. Let them do their work. They’ll find out who did this.”
Drenna clenched her jaw. Her sister didn’t quite understand the magnitude of what was going on. “Listen, I’m not going into a lot of detail. But I will tell you this. The person or organization behind this somehow knew who I was. It’s likely someone I know. I can’t trust anyone right now.”
“Wait a minute. So you’re saying the person who’s trying to kill you is also someone you work with?”
“Not necessarily. I think whoever is behind it is overseas. Someone involved with a past case and who has an ax to grind. But I do think they have a mole somewhere. Someone who has access to agency communications.”
Silence fell between them. Drenna guessed her sister was trying to process all that she had heard.
“This sounds dangerous,” Elena finally said.
“You’re right. It is. But I’m going to sort it all out. I’m going to find the person who did this.” She was unsure whether to say what was really on her mind. After a moment’s reflection, she realized it couldn’t hurt. “This isn’t just about justice. They killed Trevor, and I’m going to make them pay.”
“I understand.”
Drenna felt a sense of satisfaction. Her sister was finally beginning to understand the stakes involved. “Look, I need to run.”
“When are you going to call me?” Elena asked.
“I’m not sure if I’ll be able to.”
“Then how will I know—”
“When have I ever let you down?”
Drenna didn’t force anything into the silence.
“Never.”
“And I won’t let you down this time either.” Before signing off, Drenna remembered something she had meant to bring up. “One other thing before I go. As I said in the voice mail, you can’t mention this to anyone. I don’t care if it’s your best friend. I don’t care if it’s your shrink who’s under a legal obligation not to divulge anything you share. No one, and I mean no one, can know that you and I have spoken. Understand?”
“Yes, I do.”
Drenna smiled. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Drenna disconnected the call then sipped her latte in silence. The call had gone about as well as she could have expected. By the end of the conversation, Elena seemed to understand the need for Drenna to investigate on her own, and she also seemed to understand the need for secrecy.
She looked at the time on her phone—5:21. She would sip her drink for a few more minutes then take the next step in her investigation. If successful, it would give her access to the information she needed in order to start hunting down those responsible for Trevor’s death.
But there was one problem. It might also expose her to whoever had tracked her from the inside.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Langley - Georgetown, Washington, DC
Geoff Raymer left the CIA headquarters in Langley at a little after eight, an hour later than usual. Normally, he didn’t mind working long hours. He was a certified geek and proudly single, which meant he was totally content to focus on his job as an IT technician for the world’s largest intelligence agency. Yes, he had personal hobbies—traveling to comic book conventions and playing video games among them—but his true love was the secretive work he performed behind the scenes, work that impacted geopolitical events around the globe.
After passing through the guarded gate, Geoff directed his Audi A5 east on the George Washington Memorial Parkway. Fifteen minutes later, he took the Lynn Street bridge into Georgetown, where he stopped briefly to pick up a double-decker pastrami sandwich and sea salt potato chips at a deli on M Street. It was a once-a-week treat that gave him a break from his new keto diet.
Sandwich in hand, he returned to his car and drove to his quiet neighborhood west of Georgetown University. Anxious to get inside and eat, he pulled into the first available spot on his street. Although he loved where he lived, the parking could be impossibly frustrating at times. Anytime someone had guests over—which happened often at one of the townhomes leased by a group of college students—many of the residents were forced to park on a nearby street.
Geoff was about to climb out of his car when he noticed a Jeep Cherokee parked a half block away. He had never seen it before, but that didn’t surprise him. It probably belonged to one of the endless streams of women who visited the thirty-something lothario who lived not far from where the vehicle was parked.
His hands still on the steering wheel, Geoff hung hi
s head and took in a deep breath. He was still reeling from the news that his friend Drenna Steel had died in an accident two nights before. As one of the CIA’s top technicians, he was her personal technology liaison. Because she worked in black ops, he was the only person she talked to about technical matters. Only one other person in IT knew of her existence, and that was Geoff’s immediate supervisor.
Even though Drenna was tough and demanding, he had grown to love her like an older sister. Yes, she had often called him in the middle of the night and insisted he provide a mountain of technical information right away. She could also be harsh in the way she worded things. But over the years, they had developed a mutual trust that eventually blossomed into a true work friendship. A fiercely private woman, Drenna had even shared parts of her personal life with him, something that he would always cherish.
Geoff had learned the details of his friend’s accident in a closed-door meeting earlier that day. According to his supervisor, Drenna’s boyfriend, a man named Trevor Lambert, had consumed too much alcohol and run off the shoulder of a narrow road in the West Virginia mountains. The freak nature of the accident, coupled with what Drenna must have felt in those last few seconds of her life, made the whole thing difficult to accept. Geoff had always known that people he was close to would eventually start dying, but in Drenna’s case, he had always assumed it would happen in some dark corner of the world, doing what she was trained to do.
She would never have wanted to die the way she did.
He looked at the clock on the dash. Time to go. Sitting in his car wasn’t going to make things better. It would only make things worse.
After grabbing his takeout bag, Geoff got out and started toward his house. He would have to deal with Drenna’s death just like everyone else—one day at a time. Drenna had told him she had a sister who worked in the DC area, so he made a mental note to look her up later in the week. Maybe she would be receptive to a call. Maybe together, they could help one another deal with the pain.
As he passed by the Cherokee, Geoff glanced at the front seat. Despite his close proximity, he couldn’t tell if anyone was inside. The vehicle wasn’t parked near a streetlight, and its windows were heavily tinted. He shrugged it off. Probably another shallow conquest for the guy across the street.
A minute later, Geoff entered his home and locked the door behind him. He would eat his pastrami sandwich in front of the TV tonight, but he wouldn’t turn on the news as he often did. US politics was becoming increasingly rabid, and the last thing he needed was something to depress him any more than he already was. No, tonight, he would watch something fun. A movie on DC Universe or Disney Plus might be just the ticket.
After turning on a nearby lamp, he tossed his bag onto the coffee table and made his way down the dark hall that ran to the back. Although not a big drinker, Geoff might have a Fat Tire. Or maybe three. Anything to take his mind off his friend.
As he entered the dark kitchen, he came to a stop.
What is it?
As he stood in place, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Even though he didn’t work out in the field as an agent, he had always had an innate sense of when danger was close by. And that was the distinct feeling he had right now.
He moved his eyes around the dark space. Then he saw it, a silhouette framed by the bay window across the room. Someone was sitting at the kitchen table, watching him in silence.
The pistol. Get your pistol.
As an employee of the CIA, Geoff took precautions to protect himself. Foreign agents could come after anyone, including CIA employees who possessed sensitive information. One of the precautions he had taken was to keep two pistols in the house: one was in the nightstand upstairs, and the other—a Sig Sauer P226—was in the pantry to his left.
If he moved quickly, he might be able to get inside the pantry and retrieve the weapon before the other person made their move. The key would be to act as though he hadn’t seen them sitting there.
Moving slowly, he reached for the pantry door.
As his fingers closed on the doorknob, a voice spoke from across the room. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
From her chair across the room, Drenna waited for Geoff to realize who had just spoken. He said nothing, which suggested one of two things: Either he still thought she was an intruder and was trying to determine his next move, or he was pondering how his former colleague had somehow managed to come back from the dead. A large dose of adrenaline dumped into his bloodstream, which had probably impaired his ability to discern what was going on.
She spoke again, this time in a soft, measured tone. “Geoff, it’s me…”
His body stiffened. She guessed the revelation was hitting him like a runaway train. For the last day or two, he had probably been operating on the assumption that his former colleague and friend had died in a tragic accident. Now that same friend was sitting in his kitchen, speaking to him from the grave.
“Drenna…?” he finally asked, his voice a mixture of shock and disbelief.
“Yes, it’s me.”
He reached for a nearby switch.
“Just a moment,” she cautioned before standing up and closing the blinds on the bay window behind her. “Never can be too safe.”
Once she was done, Geoff flicked on an under-the-cabinet light, which bathed the kitchen in a soft glow.
Drenna crossed the room and stood in front of him. His mouth moved, but nothing came out.
She gave him a half smile. “You didn’t think you’d get rid of me that easily, did you?”
His eyes filling with a wet gleam, Geoff stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. She stepped into the hug and nestled her head against his. It felt nice. As best she could recall, it was the only time they had ever touched one another since they had first shaken hands years ago.
Even so, it was long overdue. Drenna avoided making deep personal connections at work, and her relationship with Geoff was the closest thing to a true friendship that she had. It was one of two reasons she had come to see him. The other reason was to obtain information vital to her investigation.
A half minute later, he pulled back and held her gaze. “So, does anyone know—”
“No. As far as I know, you’re the only one at the office who knows I’m alive,” she said. “And it needs to stay that way.”
“Understood.” He let go of her. “But you need to tell me what the heck is going on.”
“Of course. I’ll tell you everything I can.”
“Let’s go up front where it’s more comfortable,” he suggested. “I have a feeling this may take a while.”
“Yes, I’m afraid it will.”
She followed him down the hall then waited at the threshold to the living room. “Do you mind…?” When he looked at her, she nodded at the front window. “Sorry, I just can’t take any chances.”
He quickly realized what she meant. “Yes, of course.” He stepped over to the window and peered through the glass. “By the way, are you driving a gray Cherokee?”
“No, why?”
“It’s nothing. I’ve just never seen it before.” He drew the drapes shut. “But that’s not too surprising. My neighbor has a different woman over every week.”
Drenna took a seat on the couch and leaned back into the soft cushions. It was a welcome relief to her wounded leg after sitting in the hard kitchen chair for so long.
“First things first.” Geoff sank into a recliner. “How the hell did you get in here? I have an alarm—”
“And not a very good one.” She cut him off. “It took me four minutes to disarm that sorry excuse for a security system.”
Geoff managed a smile. “Well, the gun was supposed to be my backup plan. Guess I have some work to do.”
Silence fell between them. Drenna could see that Geoff was still trying to sort through his confusion and shock. She thought about launching into an explanation of what had happened but decided to let him initi
ate the conversation instead.
He held her gaze. “I was told there was no way anyone could have survived what happened to that truck you were in.”
She exhaled before answering. “To be honest, I’m still not sure how I made it out alive.”
“Were you thrown out?”
“I can only assume so. I remember the truck going off the edge and being airborne.” Drenna shuddered slightly as she recalled the truck’s headlights turning toward the river. “Then the next thing I know, I’m flailing around underwater.”
He nodded.
“It wasn’t an accident,” she said.
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“We were run off the road. On purpose.”
“Good heavens.” He moved to the edge of his seat. “Let’s back up. Tell me everything that happened. And I mean everything.”
For a moment, she thought about keeping some things to herself then decided against it. She would tell him everything. He was a friend, and she needed his help, so giving him a complete account was the right thing to do. Not only that, but someone needed to know the whole story in case something happened to her. “Some of it’s a blur, but I’ll tell you everything I can remember.”
Over the next half hour, she went through all that had happened. She recounted the strange events that had occurred on their first full day at the cabin. She described the flash of light high up the mountain behind the cabin, which she believed was the reflection off a camera or binocular lens. She also told him about being watched by the man in the store who made a quick exit when she tried to find him.
She finished by giving him a full account of all that happened on the remote mountain road: the truck coming up behind them, the plunge into the river, and all that she saw from her hiding place on the riverbank, including a brief description of the men who came looking for any signs she had made it to shore.
Geoff interrupted on several occasions to clarify something or ask her to repeat what she had just said, but he mostly listened in silence.
