by Mary Buckham
“And abilities.”
“A few tricks not taught here, including tools that haven’t been used since the last century. Most picks are in museums now.” His words sounded like marbles tumbling against concrete in his mouth. “But it doesn’t mean she’ll make a good operative. Nothing’s changed there.”
“It is a blind man who will not see what’s before his eyes.”
“Don’t give me that Confucius crap, Ling Mai. I happen to know you were born and raised Methodist. You’re being stubborn about her.”
“As are you, M.T.”
“I’m trying to save her life.”
“Are you?”
He slipped from stillness to alert. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You are the most objective of men, and yet you are not objective where Vaughn is concerned.”
“She’s a debutante playing a very dangerous game. If she does pass the next two weeks of training, which is questionable, she’ll soon tire of the cost of this game. Better to weed her out now, before she hurts herself, or others.”
“That is your assessment then?”
“Yes.”
“You have seen no change, no improvement in skills or mindset since she arrived.”
He paused, a very telling response for this man, his gaze focused on the wall behind her chair. “Nothing that warrants her becoming a full operative.”
“And her punishment?” Ling Mai smoothed invisible dust from the surface of her desk. “For her lack of good judgment tonight.”
“She should be forced from the program.”
“That will not happen.” At his frown, she added, “Not because of this. As you said yourself, it was a test. One she handled better than expected.”
“It was a trap and she walked straight into it.”
“Then I shall devise the punishment, one fitting for the crime.”
He shook his head, his tone even more serious than before. “I mean it, Ling Mai. You’re risking more than her life by keeping her in the program.”
“I am aware of this.” Her tone told him he was dismissed.
“Fine.” Stone turned to leave.
“M.T.”
“Yes?”
“I forgot to tell you we’ll be having a visitor tomorrow.”
“A VIP?”
“Director of the CIA—Thomas Werner.”
Stone gave a low whistle. “I’d say that’s a big VIP. What’s he want?”
“To see some of the new trainees at work. Make sure Jayleen is visible.”
He nodded. “No problem.”
“And Vaughn.”
Silence greeted her request, but she noted the tightening of his jaw. Only because she was watching for a response.
“As you wish.” He turned again to leave.
“All will come clear in time.” It was little enough reassurance to give the man, but it was all she had right now.
He gave her no answer as he closed the door quietly behind him.
Ling Mai glanced once more at the open drawer and the piece of paper that still lay there. Only then did she smile. One could not help the small trill of anticipation. After all, it was her father’s people who had invented fireworks and there was still tomorrow. It would be interesting to watch.
Chapter 4
Vaughn expected dismissal at first light. The last thing she expected was to be called to martial arts drill as if nothing had happened. Across the dojo floor, she could see Kelly and Alex, separated from each other as they were from her, but neither looking the worse for wear.
Maybe this was a diabolical Stone torture device. Let the victims assume all was well before he sprang his punishment.
And punishment there would be; she had no doubt. Not with the look in Stone’s eyes last night, nor the sideways glance he gave her this morning as she passed single file on entering the hall.
The man wanted her out of the program. Almost as much as she wanted to remain in, and she wanted it soul-deep. She held no clue as to what had set Stone against her, almost from the start, but it’d been there, day in and day out. The taunts, the challenges, the pricking at a pride she shielded herself with when all else failed. He wanted to win, but so did she. A clash of wills, growing stronger every day.
So be it. Vaughn had heard the term willful applied to her more than once in her upbringing, always as a negative. Only fair that it should finally serve her in good stead now.
She moved through the opening sparring routines automatically, her breathing increasing, her heart rate pumping harder, her mind not on the lunges or the calls of “kiyee.” Not while she waited for the sky to fall.
A quick glance upward, to the railed balcony rimming the front half of the hall, showed her several silhouettes. Ling Mai’s obviously, by her height next to those who stood around her. The others were men. One to the fore, several spread out. They looked like guards. As the daughter of a former ambassador, she recognized the stances. Some children grew up with ice cream and ponies; she grew up with security precautions and protocol.
Stone called the group to attention, snapping out names to pair off. He set her against Jayleen.
Maybe the man had a sense of humor after all.
Jayleen looked wary as she approached Vaughn and bowed. She should; Vaughn wanted to beat the stuffing out of her. Slowly. Deliberately. And officially.
She might even have to thank Stone later.
Like in her next life.
“Surprised to see me?” she taunted Jayleen, who circled just out of arm’s reach.
“Should I be?” Rumor had it Jayleen had come from the streets, a hardscrabble life in a dog-eat-dog world. Her tone alone told Vaughn that she hadn’t survived such a background by being a lightweight. In another time and place, Vaughn might have admired what it had taken the other woman to make it thus far. But not now, and not here.
Vaughn lowered her voice and said with a grin, “Just wanted to make sure you weren’t celebrating too soon.”
“Celebrating?”
“Should have read those tarot cards you’re always playing with, Jayleen. They might have showed you your future.”
“What future?”
Vaughn didn’t answer. Instead, she moved in fast and low, slamming Jayleen against the mat with a sweep of feet taking her out.
Jayleen countered by rolling. Vaughn was on her like an avalanche roaring down a mountain face, pinning her windpipe before Jayleen could utter a sound.
Seconds slowed. Adrenaline slammed through Vaughn’s veins. Adrenaline and something else, something hot and primordial. Rage. Not for last night’s cheap betrayal, but for what this woman had almost cost her. Still could cost her. And not only her, but also Alex and Kelly.
And Stone didn’t think Vaughn had it in her to kill.
“You ever mess with my friends again and I won’t stop,” Vaughn whispered, her face inches away from Jayleen’s.
“Monroe. Back off.”
Stone bellowed his orders behind her. He no doubt sensed how close to the line she was, how easy it would be to cross over.
She inhaled a deep breath and rocked back on her heels.
“You all right?” he asked Jayleen.
“Fine, sir.” It sounded like a croak.
Vaughn stood, knowing the ax would fall for sure now. It was bad form to attack and nearly choke one’s teammate. No matter how justified the action.
She heard the hum of stunned voices in the dojo, where shouts and calls should have been; only the low buzz of whispers reverberated back and forth. The other trainees might not know the details of what had just happened, but all were only too aware that something was going down. Vaughn, Stone and Jayleen within touching distance meant fallout, of the barely controlled kind.
But when she glanced at Stone, his attention was directed elsewhere, to the entranceway, where a small dark cloud of people entered, their suits and ties looking out of place amongst the white gis.
Vaughn let her gaze follow his, the slam of
recognition hitting her midgut. She stood, bracing herself with the motion.
Was this the punishment, then? The one Ling Mai said would happen when it needed to happen.
If so, she and Stone had chosen well.
“Director.” Stone nodded to Ling Mai, who looked feminine and exotic among the towering men surrounding her.
She in turn smiled and waved a hand toward the silver-haired gentleman at her side. “Director Werner, I would like you to meet our chief instructor, M. T. Stone.”
“Mr. Stone.” The older man extended his hand in a warm and friendly handshake Vaughn recognized from a thousand different functions. Just as she noted Werner’s gray eyes did not display their usual warmth, but rather a wariness that withheld judgment. But not for long.
Vaughn had to give Stone credit. It would have been easy to defer, or hesitate when dealing with the other man, who exuded a type of regal dominance. But Stone showed no servitude in gripping the other’s hand. In fact it was the CIA director who looked surprised. One alpha male sizing up another.
Vaughn could have sworn she heard cymbals clashing.
Ling Mai stepped into the momentary silence. The diplomatic world had lost a real asset in not snatching her up. “And two of our students. This is Jayleen Smart.”
This time, Werner did not extend his hand. “You make a worthy opponent.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Points to Jayleen. Vaughn recognized that subtlest of tones the older man used, one hinting at displeasure without rising a single decibel. Jayleen hadn’t so much as flinched, but then maybe she wasn’t tuned in to the frequency like Vaughn was.
“And this is?” the director asked, not waiting for Ling Mai to speak as he turned and extended his hand to Vaughn.
“Vaughn Monroe,” came Ling Mai’s reply, somewhere in the background as Vaughn simply stood there, looking at the hand, waiting for it to snap out and bite her.
Time seemed to freeze, a cold, crackling sensation blurring voices around her.
It was Stone who shifted first. It was not like him to bring attention to himself in any way. Yet she was glad he did. His movement broke the awkwardness.
The director’s hand slid to his side, unshaken, as his voice sounded calm and reasonable when he repeated Ling Mai. “Monroe? An interesting name.”
“My mother’s maiden name.” The words came automatically, too late to swallow back. But then she wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t already know.
“I see. And she is aware you are here?”
“No. She thinks I’m with friends in Cannes.”
Currents within currents. Very dangerous currents, and Vaughn sensed them getting deeper and more treacherous with each passing second.
Ling Mai watched them closely. Vaughn also noted Stone’s gaze assessing them both.
“Do you think she would approve of your choice in being here?” the director asked.
“I’m an adult. My choices are my own.”
Even Jayleen started glancing between faces, trying to pinpoint the increasing tension.
“I believe it is time to move on.” Ling Mai laid a hand upon the director’s arm.
He glanced at it, then shrugged, not moving an inch.
It was obvious he was not finished as he spoke once more to Vaughn, first glancing at Stone. “Ask your instructor here about choices and how rarely we can claim to own them.”
Vaughn had to give the man points. As a parting salvo the comment was good, straight to the gut with a double-whammy twist to the heart. But then he’d had years of practice. He nodded to Ling Mai and the group moved in unison toward the far door.
Vaughn slowly took a breath, but it did nothing for her racing heart.
“Jayleen.” Stone’s voice broke the web holding the trainees hostage, staring after the departing group. “Head to the showers. Practice is over.”
If Jayleen meant to protest, she bit her tongue. They’d barely begun practice, yet Stone was dismissing her in a public venue.
That had to sting.
Especially as he waited until she left to address Vaughn.
“You want to tell me what that was all about?” He stepped close enough so his words, and their edge, were for her ears alone.
“It appears the CIA director was taking a tour.”
She kept her gaze averted; it was easier to sustain a light tone when not impaled by Stone’s look.
But he wasn’t buying it. His hand came up to grasp her arm, not hurtful but hard. Even to a first-day trainee, it was apparent he wanted answers, and Vaughn was no first-day recruit.
“You’re on a thin rope as it is, princess. Don’t push it.”
The long, sleepless night. The waiting for punishment, and envisioning a thousand forms it could take. The last five minutes. She could blame them all for the tremble of her next words, but it was more than that. Stone pushed buttons. Her buttons. The man had an unerring sense of how to get beneath her skin.
She turned so that she faced him. “What do you want me to say, Stone? Just spell it out. Then you can go your way, and I’ll go mine.”
For a moment he looked confused, but the man didn’t do confused. Not that she’d ever seen.
“Why the questions? You know the CIA director? He one of your social connections? Why you got into this program in the first place?”
“Oh, give me a break. You’ve read my file, probably know more about me than I know about myself.”
“If you’re snowing me here, it won’t work.”
“What does snowing have to do—”
“Monroe, why did he ask about your mother?”
“Why shouldn’t he?”
Stone looked as if he wanted to throttle her. Instead, he took a deep breath before speaking between clenched teeth.
“Who is he to you?”
“Don’t be an idiot, Stone. You know he’s my father.”
Chapter 5
Vaughn leaned against the plush seats of her aunt Francine’s stretch limousine. It was amazing what twenty-four hours could do. Yesterday, Stone had been in her face about her father; today, she was sitting across from Jayleen, Alex and Kelly, Stone’s words echoing in her mind.
“This is your first field op.” His look was as hard-edged and clipped as his tone as he read from a PDA. “You’ll be broken into teams of four, with a team leader, an assignment and a designated time frame to complete your trial mission. Each team will have an off-site target, with details and execution the ultimate responsibility of the individual team leaders. I will be coordinating from Op Center. Each team will be given less than twelve hours to complete their mission and return here. If your mission is not completed, don’t bother returning.”
The man really did need to work on that nurturing aspect of his personality.
But that wasn’t the pièce de résistance. Leave it to Stone to hold out until the last minute to drop his next little bomb.
“Monroe, you’re team leader, with McAlister, Noziak and Smart as your team.”
“Yes!” Alex gave her a high five, a nice contrast to Stone’s taunting glance.
And that was when her gut twisted big-time. He expected her to fail. No doubt he was setting them all up to fail, with her leading them. A strike taking out all the players at once. The man was positively Machiavellian.
“You think you know what you’re doing?” Jayleen demanded, her contempt not hidden as the large group broke up and started leaving the room.
That was a million-dollar question and one Vaughn still heard reverberating around her thoughts. This wasn’t just about her and Stone; this involved the others now. Their mission—get into a small, very exclusive, very popular and public night club, retrieve a notebook from a ruthless club owner and leave with no one the wiser.
Piece of cake. Yeah, right.
“I’ve got to tell you,” Alex said, grinning from the seat opposite Vaughn. “So far, I’ll go on an ops with you any day. I like your style. And riding in this set of wheels ai
n’t bad, either.”
“I don’t think Stone would approve,” Jayleen interjected, brows angled and arched over her deep-set eyes, her set of tarot cards flipping through her hands without sound. A sure sign of unease.
“Well, he’s not here, is he?”
Thank God. Vaughn smoothed sweaty palms down her silk stockings. If her team was aware how her stomach twisted and her neck muscles clenched, they might not be so open to her plan. One she hadn’t run past Stone before she took the plunge.
“Jayleen, pull a card and give us our fortune,” Alex said with a laugh, leaning forward to nudge the other woman.
“Not sure you all would want to hear the future,” came the pointed response.
Fighting words, but Vaughn wasn’t about to step away from battle at this point.
“Go ahead.” She shrugged. “Let’s see if you know as much as you think you do.”
Button pushed. Point to Vaughn as Jayleen shuffled her cards forcefully, nearly crushing them. But her grin was bright, if a little tight as she fanned the deck before Vaughn.
“You pick our fortune. You’re the leader.”
Not in that tone of voice. Vaughn hesitated before sliding one card out, turning it face upward, its image flashing as the lights of Manhattan pulsed past the limo windows.
Damn and double damn. Vaughn didn’t know one card from another, but this one did not look good. A woman cringing against a hail of swords angled toward her from above. Not good at all.
“Seven of Swords. Opposition.” Jayleen’s voice couldn’t have said I told you so any plainer.
“What’s that mean?” Kelly spoke up, no doubt looking for the silver lining. They bred them optimistic in the heartland.
“Could mean all sorts of things.” Jayleen kept her dark eyes on Vaughn.
“Cut the crap, Jayleen.” Vaughn’s tone held no humor. “I’ll not have us going into our first mission and you sabotaging it with your hoodoo voodoo.”
“It’s not—” Jayleen squared her jaw and looked at Alex and Kelly before responding. “The Seven of Swords means you must be logical and persistent to escape from the opposition you encounter.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad.” Alex glanced at Vaughn, who still wasn’t buying any of it.
