by Cindy Dees
At the letters, CIA, everyone in the room froze. They all stared at her like she was the enemy. She held out a hand and said pleasantly, “It’s nice to meet you, Sammie Jo.”
“You can call me Sam.” The woman managed to be polite, but just barely.
Jeff announced, “Do we have a link to the CIA safe house in the Caribbean?”
“The one that they—” Sammie Jo glanced at Jennifer “—that she took you to?”
“Correct.”
The redhead shrugged. “In fact, we do. When your grandfather found out where you were, he had us research ways to check up on you. I have to say, boss. You looked like hell, there, for a while.”
Jeff muttered, “I felt like hell.”
“What time frame on the safe house, sir?” one of the technicians called out.
“Within the past twenty-four hours,” Jeff called back.
“It’ll take a few minutes to contact the provider and download it,” the technician answered.
Jennifer’s jaw sagged as an interior shot of the living room of the house she’d spent last night in popped up on the large monitor. Her laptop computer was closed on the coffee table, her sunglasses sat on the credenza by the front door where she’d left them yesterday. A chill crawled over her skin.
“Looks like this was shot after Leland and Gemma left. This morning based on the angle of the sun,” Jeff commented. “Fast forward it, will you? Let’s see if the place had visitors after we bugged out.”
Only the time/date counter in the corner of the picture changed in a blur for about ten seconds. Then, as she watched in horror, a dozen men in full combat gear burst through every door in an organized combat assault. Men she recognized from H.O.T. Watch. One of them touched his neck. Speaking into a throat microphone.
“Is there audio on this feed?” she asked hoarsely.
“No, ma’am,” the tech answered.
“You okay?” Jeff murmured.
“No. I’m sick to my stomach.”
He sighed. “It gets worse.” He ordered his staff, “Pull up a military satellite feed from H.O.T. Watch. Something recent. I don’t care what it is.”
Jennifer actually staggered when a picture of H.O.T. Watch’s satellite tracking map flashed up on the screen, reporting the position of every single satellite the facility used for intelligence collection. Jeff’s arm slipped around her waist and she leaned against him, riveted as the shot shifted to a nighttime surveillance shot of…
“Oh, my God. Is that an American military team?” she gasped.
“Yes, ma’am. Looks like a Ranger patrol. Afghanistan if I had to guess from the terrain. I didn’t request a specific location.”
“Pull up another sample feed,” Jeff ordered.
Her legs actually felt weak as pretty much the entire capability of H.O.T. Watch was demonstrated for her over the next few minutes.
“What about the super computer? Is its capability for sale, too?” she asked thickly. She really did feel like she might throw up.
“I don’t know,” Jeff answered gently. “Winston Enterprises has its own super array, so we’ve never been offered time on anyone else’s.”
She moved over to the console where the technician was typing commands into a computer to download more video feeds. She glanced up at Jeff in anguished entreaty.
“Let the lady have your seat,” he directed the tech quietly.
She slipped into the guy’s seat and donned his headset. Typing quickly, she called up the access port to H.O.T. Watch’s mainframe computer, fondly nicknamed Big Bertha. She typed in her access code. A beep denied her access. She tried a back door. Again, she was denied access. After a half-dozen tries to hack into the computer with which she was as familiar as anyone on the planet, she nodded and pushed back from the console. That was good news, at least. Big Bertha contained enough intelligence information to compromise at least half the special forces teams in the world.
“What’s the verdict?” Jeff asked from behind her.
“The main frame seems safe. It’s just the visual feeds that are compromised.” She swiveled in the seat and demanded accusingly, “And how on God’s green earth did you get access to those feeds?”
“Long story,” he replied evasively.
“I’m all ears.”
“Come with me. Let’s chat in a more private place, shall we?”
He led her to the massive dining room and over to the window where a small table for two was set and lit by a cluster of candles. He pulled out one of the chairs and waited expectantly for her.
“I’m not going to be distracted by this wining and dining routine,” she declared. “I want answers.”
“I would expect no less of you. But there’s no reason we can’t get a bite to eat while we talk. The past few months have taken a toll on me, and I need to regain my strength.”
She glared up at him as he pushed in her chair for her. “It’s a dirty trick to invoke your recent suffering to gain my sympathy.”
He sat down across from her and unfolded his napkin. “I never said I fight fair.”
She rolled her eyes, as much at the thrill of feminine appreciation fluttering in her gut at his alpha male behavior as at his comment. “How is your pain? Rate it on a scale of one to ten.”
He pondered for a moment. “What constitutes a ten in my world has reset in the past few days. I’d give this a three. It’ll be a two once I’ve had something to eat.”
Apparently he was none the worse for wear after having her throw herself at him earlier. Her cheeks heated at the memory of how she’d crawled all over him at the first opportunity that presented itself.
“Jeff, I don’t like this.”
“You don’t like pork loin? I’ll have the chef make you something else.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about. I don’t like this.” She waved her arm at the house in general. “I feel like I’ve stepped into a bad comic book. But this isn’t a game. Real people’s lives are at risk. You’re tangling with real bad guys and real governments here.”
“I got that memo, thank you,” he bit out.
“What the heck are you doing then? This is madness!”
“What’s any more mad about what I’m doing than the idea of a hollowed out volcano full of intelligence analysts and satellites looking down at any corner of the planet at a moment’s notice?”
“H.O.T. Watch is funded by a government engaging in a global war on terror and with the intent to keep an eye on other world powers. You’re a private citizen. A cowboy. I hesitate to imagine the events you’re involving yourself in without any knowledge of what the government’s policy or practices regarding those events are.”
To his credit, Jeff took the rebuke calmly. “I have no interest in getting in the way of my—your—government. And as a rule I steer well clear of them.”
“Then what is all this about?” She leaned forward to give her question added emphasis. “What are you up to?”
“I’m looking out for my family’s interests. I rarely reach beyond the scope of Winston Industries.”
She snorted. “Yes, but that’s a major corporation with income greater than some countries.”
“True.”
She frowned when he said no more. “Why do you continue to stonewall me?”
It was his turn to stare at her intensely. “Are you sure you really want to know?”
She leaned back in her seat, studying him. So. He was up to something the government wouldn’t approve of. She wasn’t a CIA agent for nothing. She’d ferret out his secrets in spite of his head games and evasions. Oh, yes. She’d learn everything about him before she was through.
A man came into the dining room, wheeling a serving cart. He laid out the meal, and she was amused to see that Jeff’s plate held at least twice as much food as hers, and there was no way she could eat everything heaped on her plate.
When she was done eating, she folded her napkin and said quietly, “Tell me about the men you lost.”
He gathered his thoughts for a moment before speaking. “Winston Enterprises sends teams of people around the world for various reasons—to investigate new markets, to do humanitarian work, et cetera. We’d already lost one team in East Africa, and when we sent another one, I went with them personally.”
She would love to hear more about that casually uttered et cetera. But she didn’t interrupt.
“The attack on our group was well-coordinated, efficient and designed precisely to counteract our gear and skills. It was fast and deadly. They came late at night, drugged the hired guards with dart guns, then slit my men’s throats in their sleep.”
“Without any intent to be insensitive, how come they didn’t kill you, too?”
“I was lucky. I heard the guy in the next tent gurgle and came partially awake as the guy assigned to my tent jumped me. He put a hand over my mouth and went for my throat with a knife in his other hand. But he didn’t count on my being strong enough to sit up in spite of his grip on my face. I fought him off and bolted. By the time I got outside, the hit squad was finishing up.” He added heavily, “And all my men were dead.”
“How long was it before the Ethiopian Army showed up?”
“A few minutes. I had just finished checking to see if anyone was alive.”
“Was the Ethiopian Army violent with you?”
His eyes were vague with relived memories. “No. I handed over the knife I had taken and they arrested me.”
She frowned. If the Ethiopians had been in cahoots with his attackers, why hadn’t they just finished him off? Why go through the charade of arresting him and acting civilized while they were at it? Clearly the Ethiopian Army had known of the attack and, furthermore, been close enough to intervene. Yet they hadn’t. It could all mean only one thing. Their army had feared Jeff’s attackers too much to interfere.
Was the same entity behind the attacks on Jeff’s men and the theft of H.O.T. Watch’s visual data stream?
Jeff was speaking again. “…a front operation, we bought access to the data. And then we started what I must say was an arduous process of tracking it back to its source.”
“And your search led you to H.O.T. Watch.”
“Correct. If it makes you feel any better, it took us nearly a year to get proof that the place even exists.”
She gazed out the window at the black night. Her thoughts were nearly as dark at the moment. She was going to personally kill whoever had sold out the facility.
“What will you do now?” he asked quietly.
“Launch a full-scale investigation. Draw and quarter whoever’s selling the data from the inside.”
“It may not be that simple.”
That made her gaze swing back to him sharply.
“In building our own facility, we learned a few things about places like H.O.T. Watch. The visual feeds available on the black market seem to come from every satellite feed you’ve got. Surely you designed a certain amount of compartmentalization into the place. Which means the leak’s coming from above the level of the satellites. Or else there are multiple leaks.”
The meal abruptly felt like lead in her stomach. She said slowly, “The military side of the house and the civilian side are completely separate. We duplicate systems in case of a breakdown, and we use them to double-check each other’s findings.”
“Then how is it I can buy feeds from both systems?”
“What are you saying?” She saw where he was headed, but her mind couldn’t take it in, yet.
He took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. “I’m saying I think the entire facility is compromised.”
“But how?” she cried.
He shrugged. “When the American embassy in Moscow was built—by Russian contractors at the insistence of the Russian government—microphones and cameras were built into the walls and wired directly into the electrical system during construction. It’s possible something similar happened when H.O.T. Watch was built.”
The implications were staggering. Had the place been sending out pirated signals for years? The amount of damage to American military and intelligence operations was mind boggling. “You do know how to kill a girl’s appetite.”
They were silent for a few minutes. He looked regretful at being the bearer of such bad news, and she was simply numb.
Finally, Jeff asked, “Can I interest you in dessert? My chef is world-class.”
“I don’t doubt that, but no. No dessert for me.”
“Maybe later. In the meantime, would you like to see more of the house?” He seemed to understand she needed a distraction to give her a little time to breathe. She didn’t doubt he could prove everything he’d just told her. Her brain craved denial, and she let Jeff’s mundane commentary about the mansion draw her out of her shock and dismay.
The home was a veritable museum of art, antiques and collectibles, and he was a charming host. This Jeff was about as unlike the savage on that road in Ethiopia as a man could get. But which one was real? How could the two coexist? Aloud, she asked, “How is it you’re so different from the man I picked up at that prisoner trade?”
He frowned. “Same man. Less pain.”
“Dr. Jones said the drugs treat your bones. What’s wrong with them?”
“Density problem.”
“You’re telling me low bone density caused you the suffering I witnessed?” she asked skeptically.
“Something like that.” He looped an arm over her shoulder and drew her near. “If I can’t interest you in chocolate for dessert, can I interest you in me?”
He was blatantly trying to distract her. And darned if she didn’t want to let him. Her body went liquid with desire at the mere thought of being with him. They could always talk later. After she’d softened him up…. Yeah, that was it. Sleeping with him was all part of getting him to talk. She could embrace that logic.
And then they were kissing and her body caught on fire and she wanted him worse than life. Maybe a little of her enthusiasm was her mind fleeing the horror of what she’d learned earlier. But most of it was lust, pure and simple.
“My bedroom’s closer,” he mumbled against her neck.
“How much closer?”
He laughed. “Just down the hall.” And then his arm went behind her thighs and he swung her up into his arms and strode rapidly down the hall while she nibbled his ear.
His bedroom started to illuminate, but he barked a series of voice commands and the overhead lights went out. The drapes slid open with a quiet whoosh, revealing floor-to-ceiling glass panels and the splendor of the night. A gas fireplace lit across the room, throwing dancing shadows onto a massive bed. And then a huge panel in the ceiling slid back to reveal a skylight as large as the bed. He laid her down on a mattress the size of a small town.
This was, of course, insane. But darned if she wasn’t feeling reckless after tonight’s shocks. Even if she successfully plugged the leak in H.O.T. Watch, her career was over. She and Brady Hathaway would eat the blame for letting such an egregious security breach happen on their watch.
Even if bugs had been built into the place, Uncle Sam would need sacrificial lambs—her and Brady. Her dismay was too much to deal with at the moment. And Jeff was right here, right now, offering escape from the wreck of her life for a little while. What did it matter if she heaped fraternizing with a prisoner on top of all her other transgressions? And besides, the guy was smoking hot. She reached over her shoulder to pull the tie out of the bottom of her braid.
He took his time stripping her naked, kissing and tasting as he went. She writhed in an agony of need long before he was finished. “You do realize I’m going to get even with you,” she threatened.
“I look forward to it.”
Ha. He’d regret those words. She pushed his hands aside as he reached for his clothes and did the task herself. She made sure he was groaning with impatience before she was done disrobing him down to his glorious, naked body. How much he worked out to achieve that physique, she didn�
�t even want to contemplate. But the end result was worth whatever it took. He was, in a word, magnificent.
Impatient, she rolled onto her back and pulled him toward her.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he explained as he resisted.
“You won’t.”
“You’re right. Because we’re doing this slow and easy.”
“But I don’t want that!”
He grinned down at her. “All in good time. For now, let’s see if I can get you to make that sound in the back of your throat again.”
“What sound?”
His mouth closed on parts of her that needed neither heat nor slick moisture to tremble with pleasure. She arched up hard off the mattress, her hands plunging into his thick hair to tug him away before she exploded.
“Oh, no. You don’t get off that easy,” he replied darkly. He ignored her ineffectual tugs and returned his attention to the volcano her body had become. In a matter of seconds, she was begging for more in between pleading with him to stop.
“Let go, Jenn. You’re safe with me.”
And that was all it took. An orgasm of such monumental dimensions as to be unbelievable slammed into her. It was like getting hit by an avalanche. It picked her up and tumbled her head over heels, flying her down a mountain and flinging her off a cliff, burying her in sensations so overwhelming she could hardly breathe. A keening cry of pleasure ripped from her throat. She collapsed back against the mattress, gasping for air.
“That sound,” he said archly.
She laughed helplessly. The man played her like a violin and there didn’t seem to be a thing she could do about it.
He kissed his way up her body, stealing away what little breath she had and establishing that he was going to be an exquisitely demanding lover. In moments, she was throbbing from head to foot with need, tugging him down to her and relishing the weight of him.
“I’ll squash you,” he muttered.
“I dare you.”
“The lady likes to live dangerously,” he chuckled.
“You have no idea.”
“Show me,” he demanded.
