by Sonja Stone
Nadia covered her face with her hands. “Is that your version of I-told-you-so?” Against Wolfe’s orders, she’d relayed the whole story to Sensei. How Jack had strung her along so he could spy on her, how she confronted him, how they’d gone to the Dean. She was so embarrassed she couldn’t even make eye contact. This was worse than Matthew and Paige. Worse than that ridiculous party. And she brought it on herself, trusting Jack, being so gullible. People only take advantage if you let them.
She’d always believed herself to be a relatively decent judge of character. Sure, she’d made some bad calls—trusting Paige, for example. But she’d hated Matthew when they first met. She found him arrogant and superficial. If she’d stuck with her initial impression she wouldn’t have gone out with him, her friendship with Paige would still be intact and she wouldn’t be here at Desert Mountain, absolutely humiliated, yet again. After everything with Jack, how could she ever trust her instincts? “I’m such an idiot.”
“Look at me!” Sensei ordered. “You are lucky to learn this lesson early in your studies, on such a trivial matter.” He gestured dismissively. “He is only a boy. I, too, learned this lesson early, but with the gravest of consequences.” A shadow crossed his face; for a moment, Nadia read perfectly what ran through his mind.
“Hashimoto Sensei, what happened to your father?”
His spine stiffened as his expression hardened. “I do not answer personal questions,” he said quietly.
“Forgive me,” she said, and lowered her head.
A moment later, he spoke. “My decision to leave Asia, to train agents for the CIA, was a difficult one, born of tragedy and betrayal.” Nadia raised her head. Sensei turned away as he continued. “We lived in Lhasa, Tibet. My father was a member of the Tibetan resistance fighters, secretly trained by the CIA.” Sensei sighed deeply. “He gave his life to secure the escape of Tibet’s spiritual leader.” He turned his eyes toward Nadia. Looked through her. “Together we crossed the Himalayas. A terrible storm raged. Eventually, we reached the Indian border. But we were miles from our original extraction point, where we had planned to meet his partner. My father secured safe passage for our party, but he stayed behind. His ethical code forbade him to seek refuge without his friend. He insisted, for my safety, that I travel on. I never saw him again.”
“Oh no.”
“I later learned his partner betrayed us; his loyalties were purchased by the Chinese. If my father had been better trained, if I had been better equipped to sense danger, to intuit a traitor, my father might still be alive.”
For a few moments she remained silent, deeply touched that he’d confided this personal information. “Hashimoto Sensei, surely you don’t believe you are responsible for your father’s death? You were a child.”
“Nadia-san, if you and I were involved in a conflict, fighting on the same side, and you survived the battle but I did not, would you not feel responsible?”
“But I have been trained. By you, Sensei. Though obviously, not enough. I didn’t see what was right in front of my face.”
His voice softened. “Do not be so critical. Even monkeys fall from trees.”
Nadia nodded. “I know; I have more important things to worry about than my social life. I asked Dean Wolfe to bring in the CIA but he refused. He says we can’t let the double know we’re on to him.”
“I am afraid he is right. But you are a clever young woman, Nadia-san. I have faith in you.”
“The worst part is, I have to pretend none of this ever happened. I have to be civil to Jack when I see him.” How could I have let myself fall for him?
“He is irrelevant. Have you asked yourself the obvious question? If Jack is not setting you up, who is?”
She’d replayed the events a hundred times. Each time, a new suspect arose. And with each new suspect, a dozen reasons why it couldn’t possibly be them. She shook her head. “I have no idea.”
Sensei’s dark eyes were grim as he studied her. “Finding the truth is like chasing echoes through a canyon.”
Nadia joined Libby, Alan and Damon in the dining hall for dinner. She poked a fork at her bowl of beef stew, ignoring her friends as they chatted about the weekend’s study session. It could be any of them.
“You look terrible,” Alan said to her. “Are you unwell?”
She glared at him. He’s always undermining me. “I’m fine.”
“You are looking a little green around the gills.” Libby pressed her inner wrist against Nadia’s forehead. “Maybe you should go lie down?”
Why? Trying to get rid of me?
“You want me to walk you to your dorm?” Damon offered.
“No, I’m fine,” she said. He’s been stuck to me like glue all day. Twice she’d asked him to back up. Is it Damon? Or is he making a play because I’m mad at Jack? She hadn’t said anything, but he was a mind-reader about stuff like that. “Not that I don’t appreciate the attention, but can you scoot your chair over? I’m practically sitting on your lap.”
“If you want to sit on my lap that can absolutely be arranged,” Damon said, but he moved a few inches to her left.
“Hey, Nadia.” Jack’s voice startled her. He was always sneaking up from behind. It was incredibly annoying. Probably so he had the height advantage.
Me sitting while he towers above.
“Jack, you want to join us?” Damon reached around Nadia to drag an empty chair to the table.
“There’s not really any room,” Alan said, spreading his elbows out on the cloth.
“Don’t bother, Damon. I’m not staying,” Jack answered, glaring at Alan. “Nadia, can I talk to you for a minute?”
“What’s up?” she asked, not glancing from her dinner.
“In private?” Jack yanked out her chair and led her to a quiet corner of the room.
When they were out of earshot of the other diners, Nadia whispered, “What do you want?”
“Let’s go out to dinner tomorrow night.” Jack offered a tiny smile.
Her mouth fell open. “You can’t be serious.”
“We’ve been ordered to continue our relationship,” Jack said quietly.
“You mean our farce of a relationship,” she hissed.
“There’s no such thing as a perfect romance.”
“Do you think that’s funny?”
“A little,” he said. “Come on, we can at least be friends, right?”
“You want a friend, get a dog.”
“Look, we need to go on a date. I thought we could go downtown and grab a bite. I’ll help you figure out who’s trying to set you up.” Jack’s voice was serious now. He leaned against the wall and grabbed her hands. He held his head low, tried to meet her eyes. If Nadia didn’t know better she would’ve thought he sounded concerned.
But she did know better. I hate him. Why does he have to be so hot? “Get your hands off me,” she said softly. “I would rather pull out my own fingernails than go on a date with you.”
He flashed an insincere smile as he whispered, “People are watching.” Then, much louder, he continued. “Great, Saturday night. Eighteen-hundred?”
“This isn’t the military, jackass. You can say six o’clock.”
“It’s Jack. Just Jack. And I can’t wait, either.” He kissed her cheek and walked away.
Nadia was seething—furious with Dean Wolfe for making her continue this romantic charade, furious with Jack for pretending to care. Giving her earrings, taking her on a date. The kiss at the dance—she’d been so blind.
Nadia left her half-eaten dinner on the table and went to her room. Slipped under her door she found a survival course summons for the following weekend. Great. She slammed the door closed and flicked the light switch. The light flashed and popped, then went dark as the bulb burned out.
Of course it did.
She stomped down the hall to Casey’s desk for a replacement.
Back in her room, she climbed on Libby’s bed to reach the light fixture. The glow from the hallway wasn’t
bright enough to change the bulb, but Nadia remembered Libby had a flashlight clipped to her keyring.
She found the keys in Libby’s top desk drawer. They weren’t hard to locate: the drawer was shallow, and Libby’s things were laid out neatly, as usual. Nadia tried the flashlight. And it doesn’t work. Why would it? She flicked the switch a half-dozen times before unscrewing the battery compartment. Something didn’t look right. She turned on the bathroom light.
It was a USB drive, carefully concealed as a flashlight. She’d seen thumb drives disguised as all sorts of things: pens, jewelry, children’s toys.
Nadia went back to Libby’s desk. Something had caught her attention. What was it? Something about the drawer.
Nadia pulled everything out and threw it on top of the desk. She ran her hands along the wood. In the back center was a hole. She slipped her index finger inside and lifted—the false bottom released.
One by one, Nadia removed the contents buried deep inside. A chestnut wig, a crisp stack of cash, a pair of glasses. And a driver’s license, issued to Amanda Downing. A brunette Libby smiled at her from the photograph.
Oh no. Her stomach churned as she stared at the evidence. It’s Libby.
“What are you doing?”
Nadia had no idea how long her roommate had been standing in the doorway. If Libby hadn’t spoken, she’d never have known she was there.
59
ALAN
FRIDAY, DECEMBER 2
Saba’s insistent directives caused a chronic feeling of desperation deep in Alan’s solar plexus. He could think of little else. He had called Tel Aviv over the holiday, and it had not gone well. Saba demanded action.
Why Saba insisted he find a girl, Alan still did not know. But Saba had learned Nadia’s name, and she was now the focus of all their calls. When Alan asked, “Why Nadia?” Saba had said, “I have my reasons,” and refused to comment further. Possibly, Saba had collected a dossier on Alan’s schoolmates and specifically chosen Nadia because she was clever. Maybe he regretted allowing Alan to attend Desert Mountain, and now, concerned for his grandson’s safety in the field of intelligence, wished to ally him with an exceptional partner. Perhaps Saba did not believe Alan could take care of himself. Or maybe because Nadia’s family was insignificant and, regardless of how the relationship ended, there would be no backlash.
Whatever the reason, Alan was in no position to argue. But he needed Jack out of the way.
Alan followed Libby out of the dining hall. He scowled and asked, “What was so important that Jack had to pull Nadia away from her dinner?”
“How should I know? I was with you.”
“I am certain she would rather spend time with him than tend to the trivial matters of life, such as food and oxygen, but I do not appreciate having to clear her dishes.”
“I’m not sure you’re right about that. Something’s off between them.”
Alan’s heart skipped a beat. “Did she tell you that?”
“She didn’t have to. It’s plain as the nose on your face.”
He shook his head. “I did not see anything.”
“What exactly were you looking at?” Libby stopped in front of her dorm. She just stood there staring at him, so Alan stopped too. “Well?” she asked.
“Well what?”
Libby rolled her eyes. “Forget it.” She pulled open the lobby door.
“Did you want me to get that?” Alan called through the glass. Why do they not ask for what they want? He continued along the sidewalk, now irritated with Libby. I am not a mind-reader.
Alan could not imagine what Boy Wonder had done to aggravate Nadia. Jack checked up on her a lot. Maybe she thought him too possessive. Girls did not like controlling boyfriends—even Alan knew this much.
Once their break-up became official, he would move in. Ask how she was feeling, if she wanted to talk—according to Saba, one thing would lead to another.
Alan entered his dorm. Down the hall, taped to his door, he found a summons from Dr. Cameron. On a Friday night? He ripped the message off the door and headed back outside.
A few minutes later, Alan fidgeted in the metal folding chair. “Why do you not put a couch in here? It might help people relax.”
“Are you tense?” Dr. Cameron asked.
“No, I simply meant it would be more inviting. You are trying to get people to open up, right?”
“Would you be more comfortable in a softer chair?”
“I believe I would.”
Dr. Cameron smiled. “I’ll take that into consideration. Alan, I understand you’ve been tutoring Nadia. I’m proud of you for working as part of a team.”
Alan’s heart beat faster at the mention of Nadia’s name. “Thank you.”
“How’s it going?”
“Exceptionally well. I am an excellent tutor.”
“So you spend a lot of time together?”
“Yes.”
“And do you still have concerns about her?”
“She is not very good with languages,” Alan said.
“That’s not what I mean.”
“What do you mean?”
“Has she ever done or said anything that troubled you?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact.” Alan pursed his lips.
“Well? What?”
“Apparently, she is dating Jack Felkin.”
“And?”
“I do not think this is a very wise decision.” Speak properly, he reminded himself. Lazy American.
“Why is that?” Dr. Cameron asked.
Alan shrugged. “I don’t know why girls are only interested in seniors. It’s not an intelligent long-term plan; they are only on campus for one year.” And it is interfering with my assignment.
But their relationship was more than an inconvenience.
Much to Alan’s irritation, he found himself constantly thinking about Nadia. His feelings had changed from intense dislike to mild interest and ultimately settled on curious infatuation. Closer examination revealed her clever, witty and—he would admit it—very attractive.
The whole situation confused him. He had intended to use her as part of his cover. His orders were to get closer, so he insisted they continue studying together. In truth, she no longer needed his help. Her logical mind made swift deductions regarding human behavior that would never occur to him. And she was extraordinarily intuitive; she knew the instant Alan hedged the truth—even before he broke out in hives.
Dr. Cameron pinched the bridge of his nose and rested his head in his hand. He sighed. “How is Damon?”
“Fine, except a messy roommate. And he claims I talk in my sleep—but I don’t believe this is true. He’s kind of a flirt, which is annoying.”
“Libby?”
“No, he flirts with Nadia more than Libby.”
“I meant, how is Libby,” Dr. Cameron said.
“Oh. I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Fine, I guess.”
“What do you know about Nadia’s family?”
“Nothing. She lives in Virginia. Her parents are married. They are not wealthy. This is about all I know. Why do you ask?”
“Is there anything you’d like to discuss while you’re here?”
He hesitated. Maybe Dr. Cameron was asking these questions because he knew Alan was deliberately trying to get close to Nadia. Was I followed off campus? Has someone reported me? Oh God, for Dr. Cameron’s sake, I hope he does not know anything. Alan’s Saba tended to shoot first and ask questions later. “No.”
“Okay. Well, I wanted to let you know a spot has opened on another team. Are you still interested in switching?”
Alan breathed a sigh of relief. This is why he was called in. “Has someone left?”
“A student was expelled.”
“Why?”
“Unauthorized use of a cell phone. Security picked up the signal.”
He quickly weighed the options—move farther from Nadia to dissipate his feelings but incur Saba’s wrath, or stay close and stick to the plan. �
��You know, Dr. Cameron, I have invested a great deal of personal time into my team. I’m going to stay where I am.”
“Good for you. I think that shows real progress. Your final survival course for the semester is next weekend; then exams and a much-deserved break. We’ll meet when you return next year.”
A survival course! The perfect time to get close to Nadia.
I will cull her from the herd. But how? His grandfather would know what to do. Plant a bomb to distract everyone, then snatch her up seconds before it went off—something flashy. Maybe she will shoot herself again and this time I will carry her out. Then we will be alone.
Admittedly, this scheme was not the most sound. The likelihood of Nadia tranquilizing herself twice seemed slim.
Would it be too obvious if I shot her?
“Alan? Is there something else?”
Alan realized he was smiling. He tried to adopt a neutral expression. “No. Thank you very much, Dr. Cameron. You have been extremely helpful.”
60
NADIA
FRIDAY, DECEMBER 2
Nadia turned toward the doorway, toward Libby’s voice. Her roommate stood unmoving, silhouetted in the darkness. The soft light from the hall cast an eerie, ethereal glow around Libby’s head. Nadia knew Libby had spoken, but she didn’t hear the words over her own shallow breath.
“I asked you a question.” Libby’s voice was higher than usual. She stepped into the room and closed the door.
The bathroom light burning behind Nadia illuminated Libby’s face. Now it was Nadia whose features were concealed. “I didn’t hear you,” she whispered.
Libby tried the light switch.
“It’s out,” Nadia said.
“I asked what you’re doing.” Libby’s brow furrowed. She didn’t look like herself. She looked tired, troubled. The skin under her eyes, usually smooth and bright, was shadowed.
