Operation Sheba

Home > Other > Operation Sheba > Page 13
Operation Sheba Page 13

by Evans, Misty


  Taking her time, Julia typed the numbers into the lock. Two seconds later, Julia let out a whispered “oh yeah” as the case opened.

  Her joy was short lived. Every file on the computer was encrypted with a range of security levels. Disabling each level, copying the information and enabling the security codes again would take longer than the twenty-eight minutes she had left.

  She started disabling anyway.

  One hour later

  “Have you seen my briefcase?”

  Michael was standing in the office doorway, glowering, but on him Julia thought it was sexy. Pongo bounded in, carrying the large rawhide bone she’d brought him, and dropped it at her feet to begin chewing on it.

  Michael was fresh from the shower, his blond hair still wet, and he was sporting a dark blue T-shirt and sport pants, looking every bit the weekend warrior ready for a backyard game of football. Unfortunately, she couldn’t enjoy his GQ looks, since the laptop that was supposed to be in the briefcase in question was under the couch where she was sitting, still in mid-download. She’d slid it there when she heard his footsteps on the stairs, picking up the remote and flipping the widescreen TV on. A rerun of Get Smart was filling the room. Julia hoped the doofus spy show wasn’t some sort of cosmic comment on her current situation.

  “I brought it down,” she said, pointing casually to the briefcase sitting next to Michael’s desk and praying he wouldn’t open it.

  Of course, he went right for it. Julia shut off the TV and jumped up. “You’re not going to start work already, are you?”

  Michael picked up the briefcase and set it on the desk. Good thing she’d stuck a heavy coffee table book in it to weight it just in case. “I have a lot of work to do, Abby.” He dropped into his leather desk chair. “This thing with Iran is getting serious.”

  So they were back to using her alias. Julia sighed inwardly. Before Michael could key in his security code on the briefcase’s pad, she inserted herself between him and the desk, and pushed the case back, planting her butt where the briefcase had been. “It’s Saturday and you haven’t even had breakfast or a cup of coffee yet. You need to get a life, Stone.”

  Sitting back in his chair, he met her gaze with defiance, but his voice held little. “Watch it, Quinn. You’re starting to sound like my last girlfriend.”

  She shot him a wide grin and used his own words against him. “Are you being testy, Michael?”

  “I’m too tired to be testy, Ab.”

  She planted her bare feet in his chair, one on each side of his lap. “What exactly happened to your last girlfriend?”

  She was still wearing her capri pajama bottoms and Michael ran his hands over the smooth skin of her calves. “I admitted my darkest secret to her,” he said, “and then I had to kill her.”

  Julia quirked an eyebrow at him. “Michael Stone has deep, dark secrets worth killing for?”

  “Don’t we all?”

  Regarding him for a long moment, she leaned forward. Putting her face down next to his, she whispered, “Tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.”

  The humor that had been in his eyes disappeared. “Don’t tempt me. There’s a lot about you I still don’t know. Huge gaps I can’t fill. Questions I should ask, but don’t because I’m not sure I want to know what you’re hiding.”

  Julia pulled back, feeling slapped and wishing she’d kept her mouth shut. Before she could try to change the subject, Michael sat up. “If I ask about your childhood, you change the subject. If I bring up a family story, like a favorite Christmas or a pet I had, you listen and ask questions, but never offer your own family version.”

  “My childhood isn’t full of fond memories. You know that. I never knew my real father. James liked to drink and knock us around. My mother died when I was still a teenager. That about sums it up.”

  Michael nodded, seemingly in understanding, but didn’t stop badgering her. “How about your past adult life? Drunken college forays? Waitressing jobs? How Susan found you? The only time you volunteer information about your time in the field is when it’s directly linked to your current CTC work. Why is that?”

  Julia studied him carefully for a moment, wondering which direction to take this conversation in. The laptop was still working away under the couch and she estimated it needed another few minutes to complete the file transfers to the jump drive plugged into its USB port. Then she needed another five to reestablish the security fields. And then she had to get the laptop back in the briefcase without Michael knowing.

  And at some point, she had to feed her growling stomach. She was starving.

  Go get ’em, Mata, she told herself and took a deep breath. “That’s not exactly true. I’ve told you personal things about me and my life on several occasions, but I could tell you didn’t really want to know more details about my life with Conrad.”

  Michael removed his hands from her ankles. “The Great Conrad Flynn.” His laugh lacked humor. “Isn’t that what you called him?”

  Julia drew herself up a little, putting space between them. Sharing that piece of info probably hadn’t been her best move, but she couldn’t deny the female part of her kind of liked that Michael was jealous of Con. Conrad was definitely jealous of Michael. Having two good men in love with her wasn’t the worse thing in the world. However, she knew it was definitely time to get off this track with boyfriend number one. She needed Michael in a better mood before she could get him out of the room and hit him up with her plan.

  “Michael, I have never respected any man as much as I do you.” On cue, she saw his jaw unclench. Good. She leaned forward, kept her eyes locked on his. “What you do for this country every day, the millions of people you help keep safe whether we’re at war or at peace…it blows my mind you could be such a good guy, through and through. There aren’t many like you. Not in Washington, not in the whole country.” She paused, searching his face. “I don’t talk about my past, because I try hard to live in the present. My present is so much nicer than my past. Every day I spend with you is like a dream. You make me happy and you make me feel safe. In case you didn’t realize it, those are two pretty cool accomplishments.”

  Michael softened, reached up and patted her thigh. “Are you brown-nosing, Quinn?”

  Julia grabbed her chest in mock indignation. “Me? Brown-nose? Never.”

  “You’re up to something. Mind telling me what?”

  Julia smiled at his astuteness and his directness, two qualities she’d always admired in him. “Not so fast, big guy. You need coffee and breakfast.” She needed coffee and breakfast. She stood and pulled him out of his chair.

  He started to argue, but Julia cut him off. “The world will not end if Michael Stone takes half an hour for himself. Come with me.”

  “Okay, okay,” he relinquished, following her to the kitchen. Pongo tagged along. “But there’s a new conflict brewing in the Middle East with Iran, and terrorists are about to wipe out the G5 summit in Geneva. When Titus calls this morning and wants to know what I’m doing about all of that, what do you suggest I tell him?”

  “Tell him I forced you at gunpoint to eat breakfast.” She filled a large white mug with hot coffee and pushed it into one of his hands. Then she grabbed the Post off the counter and put that in his other hand. “Tell him I seduced you with my tantalizingly delicious French toast.”

  One of Michael’s eyebrows rose. “You made French toast?”

  “I’m going to make some right now. You go upstairs and relax on the balcony. It’s a beautiful morning. Drink your coffee, read the paper. Breakfast will be ready in about twenty minutes.”

  Michael studied her for a moment and took a sip of his coffee. “And then we’ll talk.”

  Filling a second mug for herself, she nodded. “Then we’ll talk.” As Michael turned to go, she added, “I want to know about that girlfriend you mentioned.”

  He shot her a yeah, right look over his shoulder and was gone.

  Letting out her breath, Julia found herself looking
down at Pongo. Never one to ignore the possibility of food finding its way to the floor when she was cooking, he wagged his stubby tail in anticipation. “How do I get myself into these messes?” she asked him. His mouth opened slightly and he panted.

  “Thanks for the insight.” Without wasting more time, she went to work starting breakfast and finishing her traitorous spying.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Eat,” Julia demanded. Michael didn’t need to be told twice. He poured maple syrup on his French toast and dug in. The first bite was enough to make the Middle East conflict and his worries about impending doom in Europe suddenly seem less important.

  “Do you know,” he said, looking at her, “that you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me?”

  He saw something flicker in her eyes…sadness? Regret? She diverted them to her own stack of French toast and sprinkled powdered sugar on it. Pongo sat at her feet, gaze never leaving the table.

  Michael willed her to look at him. She obliged and gave him a halting smile. “Now who’s brown-nosing? Trying to get me to forget about that past girlfriend?”

  From experience, Michael knew that a current lover asking about an ex meant she was thinking about a future with him. He smiled and feasted on some more of his breakfast. For a few moments they ate in peace, Abby slipping Pongo small bites of toast under the table.

  “Pongo’s trained to never take food from anyone but me,” Michael said.

  “My cooking’s hard to resist.”

  Michael agreed. Finishing off the last few bites, he took a long drink of coffee and pushed his chair back a few inches. He sat watching Abby. After a minute, she stopped chewing and raised her eyebrows.

  Michael just waited. He knew she knew what he was waiting for. She kept struggling to act and sound casual when she was anything but. Her body armor was back in place and it made him damn frustrated. Up until Ryan Smith had made his appearance, Michael was sure he had been making progress at destroying that armor. He’d thought Abigail was finally allowing him into her inner world. In the past few days though she’d been distant at times, almost confrontational at others, and the next minute she was working him over with charm and teasing. Was it really all because of that damned polygraph test? Or the memories of her past life that Smith resurrected?

  She still thinks you don’t trust her.

  Michael met her eyes. “Talk to me.”

  Abigail threw her last bite of French toast into Pongo’s waiting mouth and pushed her plate back. She grabbed her glass of milk and took a sip. “I pulled the listening device out of my car. Has Security debugged my apartment yet?”

  He nodded. “Ben Raines called while you were fixing breakfast. He personally swept your place and found three bugs and the wiretap on your phone. Along with some of his security officers, he then swept the rest of the building and found six more bugs located in two other apartments. Looks like your landlord might have been doing a little eavesdropping.”

  Abby coughed, choking on the milk she was swallowing. She reached for the napkin in her lap and wiped her mouth with it. Setting the milk down, she gave him a confused, somewhat horrified look. “Do we know why?”

  “Raines ran a background check on him and found a prior arrest record for taking photos and video of women unbeknownst to them and posting it on a website. All misdemeanor stuff, but apparently the guy likes to look up women’s skirts.”

  “God, did he have hidden video cameras too?”

  That brought a smile from Michael. “Raines didn’t report any. Why? Got something to hide?”

  She laughed and cleared her throat a couple of times. “Just me running around in the buff, I guess.”

  “Well, maybe I better call Raines back and ask him to install a few surveillance pieces for me then.”

  Rolling her eyes, she scratched Pongo’s chin. “Is Raines tracking Ryan Smith?”

  Michael raised an eyebrow at her.

  “What? Is that confidential or something?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes, that’s confidential? Or yes, Raines is tracking Smith?”

  “Both,” he answered matter-of-factly.

  Her face lit up and she grinned. “You’re so easy, Stone. I make breakfast for you and I have you eating out of my hands.”

  “Anything else you want to know while I’m so gullible?”

  The grin left her face. She went right for the kill. “Do you really trust me?”

  He didn’t hesitate, didn’t even blink. “You know I do.”

  “Then let me track Smitty.”

  “What?”

  She leaned on the table. “Ben Raines is never going to find him. But I can. I know how Smitty thinks, how he works. I’m your ace in the hole on this one.”

  He shook his head. “No way. We don’t know what he’s up to. It’s too dangerous.”

  “Too dangerous?” She straightened up and frowned at him. “My God, Michael, I was a field operator for five years, tracking everything from terrorists to gunrunners. Ryan is the CIA’s version of Mr. Rogers. I think I can handle him.” She pointed a finger at him. “Plus, Smitty and I were close. He trusts me, and that can work to your advantage. I’m probably the only person who can bring him back in.”

  Michael crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her for a moment. “I don’t like it.”

  “But you know I’m right.”

  Damn, she was right, Michael stewed. She was his ace in the hole. He’d actually already given the idea consideration. If only he wasn’t so tied up with the current state of foreign affairs, he’d work it with her just so he could cover her back.

  “I’ll authorize you to work on the case on one condition.” He held up his finger. “You work with Raines. That way if anything serious goes down, you’ve got experienced backup.”

  She crossed her arms, mimicking him with dogged determination. “No way, Stone. I don’t do that partner shit anymore.”

  “Take it or leave it, Quinn. You either do the partner shit or you don’t work the case.”

  Abigail sat back and let out a seemingly disgusted sigh. Pongo moved closer, laying his head on her thigh and staring up at her with his big brown dog eyes.

  She patted the dog’s head. “It’s not a good move. Raines won’t like being pushed into working with me, an analyst, and he’ll want to know why I’m qualified to track Smitty. If he figures out who I really am, my cover will be blown at headquarters.”

  He’d already considered this. “It’s still the best arrangement I can give you. Raines doesn’t have to know anything about your past. If I give him the order to work with you, he’ll do it, no questions asked.”

  She was silent for a several heartbeats, her analytical brain in overdrive. Michael could see her weighing her desire to go after Smitty with having this undesirable partner. “I’ll have to take a leave of absence from the CTC.”

  He shook his head. “Susan won’t go along with losing her head analyst. You might get away with partial leave though if I tell her what you’re working on. She’ll need to know anyway, you’ll need her help with this.”

  “I’ll need her to give me everything she’s got on Smitty and I’ll use her as my source if I need assistance. Besides you, she’s the only one I trust.”

  “You aren’t authorized to read Ryan Smith’s file, but Susan will give you the unclassified material. Raines is on his way here to check for listening devices. You can meet him then and we’ll go over your plan.”

  “What’s his background?”

  “He’s ex-FBI. Plenty of citations in his file and he’ll probably take over the CTC Director slot when Susan moves on. I’ve known him for a lot of years. Always found him professional and easy to work with.”

  “What makes you so sure I have a plan?”

  Michael looked at her in mock disbelief. “Abigail Quinn without a plan?” He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “You’ve been thinking up a plan from the moment you saw that tape.”

  She rose out
of her chair, Pongo moving out of the way, and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Think you’re pretty smart, don’t you?”

  He parted his legs and pulled her close. “Smart enough to keep you under my thumb day and night,” he said, mimicking her.

  She laughed. “So which is better, the sex or my cooking?”

  “Hmmm.” He rubbed his chin. “That’s a tough one.”

  She smacked his arm and he tickled her ribs, Pongo barking and jumping at him in fun. After a moment, Abby pushed off him and started clearing the table. He started to help.

  “I’ll do it,” she said, taking his plate out of his hands. “I know you need to get to work.”

  Michael kissed the top of her head. “You really are good for me.”

  She smiled and he saw the flicker of sadness pass over her face again before she walked away.

  As soon as the door to Michael’s office closed, Julia breathed a sigh of relief. The two memory sticks were tucked inside her bra, the laptop with its security system back in place was sitting safely inside Michael’s briefcase. On top of that, she’d gotten Michael to okay her plan to go after Smitty. Now she could get to work.

  Only she wasn’t working with Ben Raines. No way. No how. Not in this lifetime.

  After sticking all the dishes in the dishwasher, she filled the soap dispenser and turned it on. Then she high-tailed it upstairs, grabbed her purse and her jacket and came back down. She stuck a short note on the door telling Michael she’d forgotten an appointment and would be back later. He was on the phone. She could hear his voice filtering through the door. It would be awhile before he even missed her. She kissed the top of Pongo’s head and headed for the door.

  As she pulled the Audi out of the garage stall, she plugged her cell phone into the battery charger and turned J. Lo up on the CD player. Her heart was pounding a little faster than normal as she gave the guard at the gate a big smile and a flirty wave. He tipped his hat at her and motioned her through.

  Chapter Nineteen

 

‹ Prev