by Evans, Misty
Shooting Smitty a sideways glance, he wiped his fingers on a napkin. “This ought to be good.”
“Oooh, I know,” Ace said, chewing a mouth full of breakfast. “We kidnap her, rough her up a little.” He made punching motions in the air, and then made a gun with his hand. “Julia can hold the gun to her head, force a confession.”
Conrad rolled his eyes, got up and flipped the second round of pancakes on the griddle. Returning to his chair, he patted Julia’s back. “While giving Susan a little pain appeals to me, Ace, it’s ineffective and could put us in even deeper trouble.”
Ace dropped his boxing/shooting routine and looked disappointed. “It works on The Sopranos, bro.”
Smitty passed Ace the platter with one pancake left on it and he perked up. “Torture is duress of the worst kind,” Smitty told Ace. “People will say and do anything to stop the pain—sign confessions that aren’t true, accuse innocent people of horrible crimes, betray their own mother if it means no more pain. No matter what the movies lead you to believe, it’s ineffective and it’s inhumane.”
Ace shook his head. “You guys are no fun.”
Smitty took the empty platter, retrieved the fresh pancakes from the griddle. “I’d like to hear Julia’s idea.”
Con smiled, a wicked grin that made Julia’s heart pick up speed. “Me too.”
Julia picked up her coffee cup and held it between her hands. “The missing piece with Cari is her biological father, but I know after years of trying to track down my own father, that finding that piece might be impossible. However Susan had an affair twenty-six years ago that culminated in her pregnancy. I was on the Internet this morning and it just so happens Susan put in for a transfer to the Russian office at about that time. I figure she got pregnant, decided to have the child for whatever reason and transferred to Russia in the hopes of hiding her pregnancy and giving the child up for adoption as secretively as possible.”
Conrad spoke between bites. “So?”
“Susan’s career is on the Internet?” Smitty said.
“If you know where to look,” Julia answered. After all the years trying to locate her real dad, she knew a lot of places to look. “But trying to blackmail Susan about that affair obviously won’t work if we don’t know who the guy was.”
“Could’ve been a nobody,” Ace offered. “A truck driver, or the mail man or some loser she picked up at a bar for a one-night stand.”
Julia frowned, shook her head. “I think Susan is too Machiavellian to have a one-night stand with a loser. It was probably someone she was in love with. It had to be someone politically important to her as well. Maybe someone in the CIA or at least in her political circles. That may be why she chose not to have an abortion, but still hid the pregnancy and kept Cari a secret.”
The three men were silent for a moment. Con got up, brought the coffeepot back and refilled their mugs. “That makes sense, but I’m still saying, so what? How does that help us?”
“Maybe it doesn’t,” Julia said, “but you’re the one who always says, ‘information is a bargaining chip in the game of life’.” Smitty snickered. He’d heard Con’s wisdom dispersed as many times as Julia had. “I think we should keep working to figure that out. Cari’s father could be a very important bargaining chip.”
She pushed her plate back and set her coffee mug down. “In the meantime, if I call Susan and tell her I know everything, and I’m pissed as hell at you two for lying to me”—she motioned to Con and Smitty—“and that I’m going to Michael and turn you all in, she’ll make her move. I’ll tell her I’m after her job so she either cuts me in for a piece of her rising star, or I’ll blow her out of water with you two.”
Smitty’s eyes lit up. “And because of your illicit affair with Stone, she’ll think he’ll be more inclined to listen to you than her.”
Julia avoided Con’s gaze. “There is nothing criminal or unlawful about my affair.”
Smitty held up his hands. “Illicit’s the wrong word, I apologize. Forbidden, maybe or…unethical.”
Julia raised an eyebrow. “I work for the CIA. So does Michael. There’s technically nothing forbidden or unethical about our relationship.”
“Technically,” Conrad said, his jaw set, “you no longer have a relationship with Stone, am I right?”
Pressing the palms of her hands into her forehead, Julia sighed. “Yes, but he doesn’t know that yet and neither does Susan.”
Smitty was still thinking about her idea. The light bulb behind his eyes was glowing brighter and a smile was spreading across his face. “At the very least, Susan knows Stone would start an investigation of her. No way can she afford for that to happen, even if she believes she’s set us up for the fall. An investigation of any kind into her activities could stop her career goals dead.”
“Exactly,” Julia said. “It’s time for the Wicked Witch to get a dose of her own medicine.”
Con leaned forward and rested his crossed arms on the table. “What if you blackmail her and she tries to kill you?”
“I’m the brains in this operation, Con. You’re the muscle. She tries to kill me? You run in with that scowl on your face and wave your gun around.” Julia waved a finger in the air. “You know, save the day like always.”
He stared at her for a long moment before a tiny grin tugged at one corner of his mouth. “I could do that.”
“Of course you can.” Smitty winked at Julia as he rose. “And since I’m apparently not the brains or the muscle, I’ll be the supervisor. Which is what I do best.” He stared into space for a half a second and then nodded at them. “I know how we’re going to do this. Let’s get to work.”
“What about me?” Ace asked.
Julia handed him her dirty plate. “Clean off the table and wash the dishes.”
Smitty and Conrad handed him their plates as well.
Ace’s face fell. “So I’m the grunt?”
“You’re the grunt,” the other three replied in unison, walking out and leaving Ace with the mess.
“Man,” he mumbled to himself, “this spy shit sucks.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“These are transmitters with a GPS chip in them that will let us know where you are at all times.” Smitty handed two small flat pieces of silicone and plastic to her. “Keep both on your person so we can track you.” Julia threw one in her tote bag and stuck the other in her bra. Smitty raised one eyebrow. Ace’s eyes widened. Con didn’t even blink.
“Next, more listening devices.” Smitty gave her three tiny plastic bugs. They really did look like bugs in a way. Ladybug-size, they were round with skinny, sticky legs and a single antenna. “Just like the last ones, brush your thumb over the sensor to activate them and then stick them to something with texture. Draperies, upholstery, that sort of thing. Not metal or finished wood. The only reason the last device stuck to your table is because the underside was unstained. Avoid carpets for the obvious reason.”
“Right.” Julia was due to be at Michael’s in half an hour. He’d called, asked her to come for lunch. He’d sounded strange, and she was worried. He was pissed about her no-show last night, but there was something else in his voice she couldn’t place. All she knew was that she had to go, act as normal as possible, and hope her Mata Hari skills would carry her through. She wanted to see him again anyway before she placed the call to Susan that would put her plan in motion. She needed to say good-bye to him in her head, take one more look around his house and remember the good times she’d shared with him.
“If you have the opportunity,” Smitty continued, “get one of these in Susan’s personal effects. Her briefcase, her purse, her office.”
It was Julia who raised an eyebrow this time. “You want to me to bug the CIA’s counterterrorism chief’s office?”
“Headquarters is swept for bugs every couple of weeks,” Con said. “So be careful. Don’t leave any telltale fingerprints on the bug or the site.”
Smitty tapped his chin. “As far as I know,
CIA technicians have never found a listening device inside the buildings. It would be interesting to see how security would react to such a thing.”
Julia knew how they’d react. “I’ll be running mostly on instinct. I’ll try to keep you guys in the loop at all times, but Michael’s already suspicious so don’t freak if I don’t make contact every five minutes, okay?”
Smitty nodded. Conrad ignored her. Julia continued to walk through the plan. “As soon as I’m ready to place the call to Susan, I’ll let you know so you can tail her.”
“At that point, one of us”—Con pointed a finger at his chest and then at Smitty—“will be on your tail at all times as well, except, of course, when you enter CIA headquarters.”
“Do you really think Susan might try to kill me?”
He answered without hesitation. “Yes. If she’s guilty, she’s spent the better part of the last ten years putting this plan together, and she won’t let you or me or Smitty screw it up for her. If we’re alive, we can talk, and even if Stone and Allen don’t believe us, our stories will throw doubt on hers. Like Smitty said, Susan’s career can’t risk a criminal investigation and she knows that. The easiest way to avoid that is to take all of us out. I’m not sure how she’ll try to do it, but she will.”
Julia suppressed a shudder and picked up her big black tote bag—she’d switched from her purse to the larger bag to carry everything she needed, including both the Beretta and SIG Sauer, concealed. She checked her cell phone and both guns. Everything was ready.
She turned to Smitty. “In the meantime, you’ll work on finding out who Cari’s father is, right?”
“Will do.” He patted her cheek and nodded. “Go get her, Sheba. We’ve got your back.” He gave her a smile and walked out of the room, forcing Ace to go with him. Ace gave her a thumbs-up sign over his shoulder.
Julia looked at Conrad. Her heart hurt at the thought of leaving him. He reached out and drew her into his arms. They stood that way for long minutes, and Julia rested her head against his shoulder.
“I don’t want you to do this.” Con spoke into the top of her head.
“I know.” She laid her fingers at the base of his throat, felt his pulse beating under them. “But I’m the only one who can make this happen. We have to stop Susan, and when it’s all done, if Cari’s kept her part of the deal with me, I want to help her if I can.”
Con laughed in disbelief. “Why would you want to help her?”
“We’ve both been used and hurt by Susan. I know Cari’s made some bad choices, but I think she deserves a second chance. If she comes through and testifies against Susan, then I’ll talk to Michael and whoever else I have to and see if they can help her stay in the States. Get her a job. I really believe she deserves another chance.”
Con pulled back and looked down at Julia. “Damn, you’re a better person than I am.”
“This is just dawning on you?”
The side of Con’s mouth quirked, and then fell again. “Susan’s the most cunning and devious person I’ve ever met. Don’t take any unnecessary chances, Jules. Be prepared.”
She understood the message behind those words: I just got you back, I can’t lose you again.
“There’s a part of me that still can’t believe the Susan Richmond I know would turn against her country or betray the people she worked side-by-side with.”
Con nodded in understanding as Julia went on. “That part of me still hopes she’s innocent. That she’s at Langley poring over the latest briefings out of the Middle East, itching to find a germ cell of information that might warn us about a terrorist strike. It believes she’s too damn dedicated to value us so little, and there’s no way she could be the CIA’s mole.”
“I know.”
“But the other part of me…” Julia shook her head, blinked back a stray tear. “The other part of me knows it’s her. I think about how she set you up, how she gave up those other operators, how she used her own daughter to further her career, how she’s setting Michael up to clear the way for herself.” Her voice had risen and now she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I want to tear the limbs from her body. She’s not going to get away with it. I won’t let her.”
Con rubbed her arms. “Just be careful.”
She pulled on her jacket and slid the strap of her bag over her shoulder. “I love you too,” she said, giving him a kiss.
“You’ve got my cell number?”
“I memorized it and programmed my phone with it.”
He scratched the back of his neck. “What are going to do if Stone, you know, tries to, um…”
Julia smiled, enjoying Con’s discomfort. “Kiss me?”
“Well, yeah, that, but more than that…”
Julia reached into her tote and brought out a box of tampons and flashed them at him. “I set these on the bathroom counter. Works every time.”
“Right.” Con avoided looking at the box. “Good one.”
Dropping the tampons back into her tote, she threw her arms around him. “Don’t. Worry.”
“Sorry, kiddo. That’s my job.”
She kissed him once more, long and deep, and then she left for Michael’s.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Langley A vague sense of relief washed over Julia as she absentmindedly walked around the room’s nerve center filled with computer screens, faxes and phones, and breathed in the familiar stale office air. A smattering of dedicated men and women from the CIA, the FBI and the Secret Service were bent over various electronic equipment and piles of paper, all giving up a weekend afternoon to work toward a common goal. Keep America safe.
It had been her goal too for all these years. CIA Headquarters was a place that had offered refuge to her, and up to now, had provided reinforcement in her psyche that her country was a safer place because of these quiet but extraordinary guards.
But now she wondered as she passed the cubicles partitioned off for bin Laden and Hezbollah, what harm was coming out of these walls? The shadow CIA was effectively crippling the United States’ intelligence community and no one but a couple of men, highly skilled yes, but ordinary men nonetheless, knew the specifics of what was happening.
Throwing her backpack on her desk, Julia ignored the weekend’s dump of intelligence information on it. She was already late for lunch with Michael, and she knew Con was probably wondering what the hell she was doing, but she needed to check her desk and get a personal item out of it before she started the whole charade to expose Susan. If she didn’t, she would not most likely get it back.
Julia bent down and shuffled through the contents of her bottom desk drawer. Under the miscellaneous files and tech manuals lay a picture. She stared at it for a second, a snapshot of her previous life.
April in Paris. She’d been so happy. Con had been happy then too, but there he was in the picture, angry with her for taking it, all dark and forbidding and looking like the Devil himself. But she’d won out over his anger, took the picture, and had kept the only picture she had of him all these years.
April in Paris. Long walks in the dead of night. Words of love and commitment filling her ears while her heart seemed to expand until it would burst.
April in Paris. Cherry blossoms falling from the trees in Luxembourg Gardens as she and Conrad hid underneath the canopy in the darkness and made up a fantasy life for themselves that didn’t involve the CIA. Back at her flat, he laughed at her as she lay on the bed with cherry blossoms still stuck in her hair. God, she loved making the Great Conrad Flynn laugh.
She had known at that moment that she was living a life many women dreamed about but never experienced. She was attractive, intelligent and successful, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted more. She wanted to be the woman with cherry blossoms stuck in her hair, making Conrad laugh for the rest of his life.
It hadn’t happened. Her future with him had been ripped away shortly after that by the unseen force manipulating the CIA. All her dreams, all her success, reduced to ashes.
> Julia swallowed the lump in her throat. She had to draw Susan out and turn her over to Michael and Titus Allen as soon as possible. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, let Susan win. Shoving the picture in her jacket pocket, Julia closed the desk drawer and stood up.
When she, Conrad and Smitty exposed Susan, Julia knew she’d have a lot of explaining to do. She might even be asked to leave the CIA and she certainly would have to switch departments because of Michael. She wouldn’t be able to face him every day once all her secrets were out on the table. He truly would never trust her again and her status as top analyst would be forfeited. Julia’s heart sank at the thought. She stood for a long minute, looking at her desk, all the puzzles piled on it, and wondered for the first time what she would do after this was all over. She’d been so wrapped up in her happiness with Con and so determined to figure out how to bring Susan to justice, she hadn’t really considered what would be left of her career.
Susan has successfully managed to ruin my relationship with Michael and cripple my career. She shoved her hands in her pockets, felt the listening devices still in them and remembered Smitty’s advice. Suddenly the thought of bugging Susan’s office was overwhelmingly appealing.
Susan’s Cadillac was in the below-ground parking garage and Julia knew that running into her right now could blow her only chance to play her cards successfully. But if this was her last time in the halls of the CIA, she figured she might as well make it worthwhile.
Behind the glass walls of Susan’s office, Julia could see evidence the CTC chief had been in her room and was planning to return. The lights were on. A bottle of Evian was sweating on the desktop. A stack of papers on the desk rustled lightly from the breeze generated by a small fan positioned on a filing cabinet in the corner of the room.
Julia stopped outside the closed door and forced herself not to look up at the security camera in the corner of the hallway. Susan was probably running down information somewhere else in the building. She could be back in minutes or it could be hours.
