Desert Dark

by Sonja Stone

  “No, I agree. It’s cat-and-mouse, eh?”

  “Yes sir.” Jack felt himself smiling. It is about Nadia. He hesitated before he asked, “Have any other suspects emerged? I would be happy to broaden my investigation.”

  “Just stay focused on your assignment.”

  “No, of course. I just thought maybe . . .” I hope it’s not her.

  “I’m very satisfied, son. You’re doing exactly what I asked. Thank you.”

  “It’s my pleasure, sir.” Stay focused, he reminded himself, as he felt a flicker of excitement in his stomach.

  28

  NADIA

  SATURDAY, OCTOBER 1

  “This is a mistake,” Nadia said for the third time in two days. “Do you think I should cancel? I think I’m gonna cancel.”

  Libby sat on her bed reading a magazine. “Like I said the last seventeen times you asked, no, I don’t. What are you so worried about? Jack’s a good guy. I’d trust him with my life.”

  “I know. But I’ve been burned before.”

  “Who hasn’t? Is this about the guy from home?” she asked. Nadia nodded. “All right, tell me what happened.”

  “I can’t talk about it.”

  “Come on,” Libby coaxed.

  “It’s too humiliating.”

  Libby slowly flipped the pages of her magazine. “More humiliating than shooting yourself in the foot and having to be carried back to school thrown over the shoulder of the hottest guy on campus?” She smiled sweetly at Nadia. “That humiliating?”

  “Hey, thanks for the reminder.” Nadia groaned as she leaned against the wall. “Fine. I’ll tell you.” She took a deep breath, then sighed. “I’d been dating Matthew for almost a year. I was totally crazy about him, which I can’t understand now, because he’s very self-centered and way too competitive—and that’s coming from me.” Libby rolled her hand in a circle, as in let’s move on. “Anyway, about a week before school started he hooked up with my best friend. I didn’t know, but apparently everyone else did.”

  Libby winced. “I’m guessing no one told you.”

  Nadia shook her head. “Of course not. But it gets worse. Matthew’s cousin Hannah always has a back-to-school party for the entire grade. It’s a huge deal—caterer, bartender, DJ—the whole thing. And it’s kind of understood everyone’s invited. So I showed up about an hour into the party. It was packed—I had to park like two blocks away. I went through the house and out back by the pool to get a drink. People were hanging around inside, outside, you know.”

  Libby nodded.

  “I’m at the bar ordering a sprite and cranberry when Hannah walks up to me. She literally screams, ‘I can’t believe you are so rude that you’d show up at my party uninvited.’ The entire patio falls silent. Everyone is staring. Including Matthew and Paige. Just staring at me.” Nadia’s heart pounded as she told the story. “I was so embarrassed I couldn’t move. My legs went numb. I tried to set my drink back on the bar but I missed and the glass shattered on his deck. Then she started yelling about that. I had to walk through all those people to get out. It was the single worst moment of my life.”

  “That’s awful. Your face is red just talking about it.” Libby stood and put her arms around Nadia. “But Jack’s not like that. He’d never hurt a flea.”

  Nadia tried to smile; she shrugged like it didn’t matter. “It’s my own fault. I shouldn’t have trusted Matthew.” But I expected better from Paige. She turned toward her closet and pretended to flip through the hangers as tears stung her eyes.

  She and Paige had been inseparable since the first day of freshman year. Paige’s leg had been in a cast. Nadia, standing behind her in the lunch line, volunteered to carry Paige’s tray. “I don’t make the offer lightly,” she’d said. “It’s a lot of pressure carrying this little tray across the cafeteria. I’m always afraid I’ll trip and my food will go flying.”

  “I know exactly what you mean,” Paige said, “and I’m forever in your debt.”

  For two years, they were closer than sisters. They spent every day together. But at the party, Paige had stood to the side, mute, as Hannah threw Nadia out of her house.

  It’s one date. Just don’t fall for him. She sighed again. “I don’t have anything to wear.”

  “Here, let me.” Libby opened her own closet and selected a slim black sweater. “Try this with your jeans and boots. You can borrow a strand of pearls.”

  “It’s so soft. Cashmere?”

  Libby nodded. “You know what? You can keep it. Alan said it made me look like a corpse.”

  “He’s a real charmer.”

  “Don’t ever ask him how you look unless you really want to know.”

  Nadia held up the sweater and checked her reflection. “I still feel like he’s looking for any excuse to ridicule me.”

  “I believe it’s unintentional.”

  “Of course you do. You only see the good in people.”

  Libby smiled. “While that may be true, social grace is not his forte. And he’s incapable of telling a lie. He’d make a terrible field agent and he knows it. He’ll stay behind the scenes: analysis, or maybe a computer specialist. He’d make a great translator. But can you imagine if the enemy captured him? They wouldn’t have to use torture. They’d say, ‘Please tell us who you work for, and don’t lie.’ He’d sing like a mockingbird.”

  Nadia watched Libby rearrange the clothes in her closet to ensure each hanger was separated by the same amount of space. “And if you’re captured, the enemy can drop a pile of clothes in the middle of the floor.”

  Libby laughed. “Please, I’ll tell you anything! Just let me fold those sweaters!”

  At six o’clock Nadia found Jack waiting in front of the administration building. He drove to the Mesquite Grill on Scottsdale Road. A half-hour later, in the darkened restaurant, Nadia found it difficult to concentrate on the menu. She scanned the words over and over, but she couldn’t focus. Jack’s fitted European-style oxford and dark-washed jeans accentuated his strong, lean form. His legs touched hers under the tablecloth and she swore she could feel the heat from his body surrounding her.

  Relax. He’s just a guy.

  “So how is it for you, being away from home for the first time?” Jack asked.

  “It’s okay. My parents are pretty cool. I sort of feel guilty being here. I’m sure it’s been hard on them.”

  “Are they overprotective?” Jack asked.

  “My mom is, about some things.”

  “Like what?”

  Nadia smiled, thinking about her mom. “Stupid things. What if the house catches fire, what if you’re at a party and your friends are drinking and you don’t have a ride home, what if a meteor falls from the sky, what if, what if . . . She likes me to be prepared. She even made up this code phrase for us, just in case.”

  “What do you mean?” Jack smiled with her.

  “Like if I’m at a friend’s house and I don’t want to be there, for whatever reason, I call her and say, ‘I forgot to tell you, but the plumber called,’ and she knows to make up an excuse to come get me.” She blushed as she spoke. Why am I telling him this? I sound like a little girl. It was like her mouth had its own mind—Nadia wanted to sit quietly but she couldn’t seem to shut up.

  “I love it! We should have a code phrase.”

  “For what?”

  “For our long and lucrative career together at the CIA. And by ‘lucrative’ I mean extremely dangerous work for little pay and no public recognition. Any ideas?”

  She laughed. “Right, lucrative. How about: ‘the piano needs to be tuned’?”

  “No good. If we have to say this to each other over the phone it can’t be so out-of-context.” Jack chewed on a fry.

  “Okay. ‘It’s getting chilly, so grab a sweater.’ Always appropriate.”

  “Perfect,” Jack agreed. “Picture it: twenty years from now, I’m captured by an elite terrorist cell stationed in Taipei. They threaten me, they know I’m working with someone.
‘Call her in,’ they order. So I make the call, ‘Sniper? It’s Blade.’ ”

  “I’m Sniper?”

  “Sure. After you shot yourself in the foot how could you not be Sniper?”

  “I guess I had that coming.”

  “ ‘Sniper, it’s Blade. Meet me at the extraction point, but bring a sweater. It’s cold outside.’ And you’ll know that means run, save yourself! I love it.” He laughed as his eyes locked onto hers. “Tell me more. Do you have a boyfriend? I like to know if I should watch my back.”

  “No boyfriend.” Nadia smiled to herself.

  “You don’t have the slightest accent. Did you grow up in Virginia?”

  “No, we moved around a lot.”

  “Where all have you lived?”

  “Do you want the whole list?” she asked reluctantly.

  “Sure, we’ve got time.”

  “Okay. I was born in Michigan, then we moved to Belize, then Maine, then Guam . . . California, Texas, upstate New York, Pennsylvania, Maryland and finally, Virginia.” She knew the next question; it was always the same.

  “Was your dad in the military?”

  “Witness protection program.”

  Jack’s eyes widened. “For real?”

  “No, I’m kidding. He never got tenure.”

  He smiled. “Very funny. Was it hard moving around like that?”

  “A little. I was a shy kid. I remember having to stand up in front of the entire class and introduce myself every time we moved. It was excruciating.” Nadia covered her face with her hands. She’d spent her entire childhood being the new kid. Every couple years they’d pack up, move halfway around the world, and start over. That’s when her obsession with codes and puzzles began. She’d been too reserved to introduce herself around the neighborhood, so her mom bought books of games to keep her occupied. Nadia would sit for days, scratching out code after code while her mom unpacked another new house, her dad familiarized himself with another new job.

  “So tell me something about you no one else knows,” Jack said.

  “I don’t have any secrets.”

  “Everyone has secrets. How about something most people don’t know?”

  Nadia thought for a minute. “I can read your palm.”

  “No way.”

  “True story. Let me see.” Nadia pulled his hand across the table. She ran her fingers softly over his calloused palm, his smooth wrist. His skin was warm. “Oh, this is very good.”

  “What do you see?”

  “I see a long and happy life. Your career will be extremely rewarding. You will marry only once and have two children.”

  Jack withdrew his hand. “That’s so generic.”

  “I’m not finished.” Nadia yanked his hand back and pretended to study the lines in his skin. “Okay, your father chose your name. Your mother disagreed; she wanted something more uncommon.”

  “Hmm. Not bad.”

  “What was it?”

  “What was what?”

  “The name your mother chose for you.”

  “Hermes. God of speed and war.”

  “I hate to break it to you, but Hermes was a messenger. And the God of thieves, not war.”

  “Is that right?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “Well, my mother never was much of a scholar.” He nodded to his palm. “What else do you see?”

  “This is interesting. It says here,” Nadia lightly traced the cup of his hand, “your parents are divorced. You have an older brother. Your mother is a gifted cook.” She glanced at his face. “You’re closer to your mom than your dad. In fact, you and your father are often at odds.”

  Jack’s hand tightened. His face remained expressionless.

  “You think of Dean Wolfe as a father figure. In turn, Dean Wolfe respects you a great deal.”

  Jack pulled away. “Impressive.” He shifted in his chair and signaled for their server. “Can we get the check?”

  Oops.

  “Need anything else?” the waitress asked.

  He tossed two twenties on the table. “We’re good.”

  “Jack?” Nadia said.

  “We gotta go.”

  “I hope I didn’t say anything—”

  “Not at all,” he interrupted. “I just realized the time.” He placed his hand on the small of her back and led her toward the door. “The movie is right up the block.”

  29

  JACK

  SATURDAY, OCTOBER 1

  “Did you like the movie?” Jack asked, as he drove Nadia back to school. Keeping her engaged in mindless small talk required his full concentration. The feeling of disappointment that had settled deep in his gut refused to soften.

  “I did.”

  He glanced at her; Nadia watched the darkened scenery through the passenger window. She’d been quiet since the restaurant. She’s not as clever as she thinks. The question is: does she know she messed up?

  Nadia turned to him. “Tell me about your family.”

  Like you don’t already know. “Well, you were a little light on the body count: I have two older brothers and a younger sister,” Jack said. “I’m from San Diego, my parents are divorced, my dad’s a vascular surgeon and my mother owns a Greek restaurant. And you were right—she’s an incredible chef. That’s about it.”

  “Succinct,” Nadia said. “What do you do for fun?”

  “I’m doing it now.”

  She laughed. “Anything else?”

  “I miss driving along the coast. I like running too. It clears my head. And I spent last summer working at a camp for underprivileged kids.”

  “Admirable.”

  “Not really; I got way more out of it than they did. The kids are amazing.” For a brief second, Jack’s smile was genuine. “They’re all so happy to be there, you know? It was like rediscovering the world—I see life through fresh eyes when I’m with them.”

  “Do you like your family?”

  “Most of them. Holidays are the best, when my brothers are home from college and we can all hang out. I miss my siblings.”

  “That’s awesome. I wish I had a sister or brother.”

  “Yeah, but in this business it can be a liability,” he answered.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Oh, you know.” He shot her a quick look. “It’s easier to risk your life for your country if you aren’t worried about loved ones grieving when you die. But I love the work. Everything about it.” Especially catching traitors.

  “You don’t mind lying to your family about what you’re learning?”

  It’s better than lying to my country. “The way I see it, I’m protecting my family. The less they know, the safer they’ll be.”

  “Do you see both your parents a lot?”

  “You ask a lot of questions.”

  “Sorry.” She smiled. “I dominated the conversation at dinner; I don’t know anything about you.”

  “I live with my mom. My dad works like crazy. They had an ugly breakup. I still see him, but, as you guessed, we’re not close.” They pulled onto the dirt road leading to school. At the gate, Jack signed in with the guard. “Thanks, Jeff,” he said, as they were waved through.

  “Why don’t they scan the students?” Nadia asked, pointing to her eyes.

  “I dunno. They only do employees.” Jack pulled into the lot behind Hopi Hall. “I’ll walk you home.”

  Jack took her hand and didn’t let go as they walked along the path to the girls’ dorm. He hated himself for it, but he liked her touch.

  She turned to him. “Thanks again.” Nadia glanced at his face, then down at the ground.

  She wants me to kiss her. And so I won’t. He lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. The color in her cheeks deepened and his breath quickened. Oh my God. I want to kiss her too.

  He leaned toward her as her eyes closed. His mouth lingered near hers, then he lifted his chin and touched his lips to her forehead. Her body moved into his. She took a deep breath. Jack closed his eyes—it too
k every ounce of strength not to press her against the wall. He wanted to feel his hands inside her thick hair, their bodies close together, his lips on hers.

  Jack forced himself to step back. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said abruptly, and walked away.

  Five hours later, at 0330, sleep continued to elude him. He rolled onto his back, eyes trained on the ceiling.

  He could’ve fallen for her easily. No girl had ever read him like that—so quickly, so dead on.

  She shouldn’t have told me what she knows.

  He’d worked it out during the movie: Nadia Riley was absolutely the double agent. Before she’d arrived on campus, she’d studied a dossier of her teammates. She missed enough of the details that if he hadn’t already known about her, he wouldn’t have been suspicious.

  But how did she know about my relationship with Dean Wolfe? That wasn’t in any dossier. He’d never spoken to anyone about the Dean. Not even Dr. Cameron.

  Jack sighed. At least Wolfe will be happy. And I’m here to serve my country, not find a date to the prom.

  His expanding disappointment aside, the investigation did intrigue him. How long has she been training? Who does she work for? What could she teach me? Jack understood why she’d been chosen. There was something about her—he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. She was disarming. Like in the car, when he was talking about his summer. He’d forgotten for a second that she was the enemy.

  His stomach twisted as he pictured her, leaning against him outside her dorm, her lips so close to his. Her scent—soft and summery, like coconuts. How she’d looked at him. He knew when a girl liked him.

  Seriously, Jack? That’s spycraft 101. She was trained to attract you.

  Intellectually, he understood his feelings were stupid and childish—she was putting on a show. But emotionally . . .

  What kind of agent will I be if I fall for every girl who comes along?

  But it wasn’t every girl, it was this girl. And this was the only girl.