by Quinn, Fiona
“Could you do the Veil walking for cases that wouldn’t put you in harm’s way?” Deep asked.
“How do you mean, Deep?”
“Like this Consuela woman. Could you go and sit in her brain and figure out what’s going on?”
“Like surveillance? Um, no. First of all she doesn’t have a shimmer.”
“A ‘shimmer’?” Deep asked.
“That’s what I call the energy that radiates off of a person — like a ripple or a shiver in the air. It’s where their aura is…um…jagged?” I looked around to see if that made any sense at all. Heads nodded, so I moved on. “A shimmer is rare and usually involves situations that are life-or-death. Hey, you guys look like shit, by the way.”
“Yeah. It’s been hard to sleep and eat lately,” Gater said.
“Jack and Striker had the same problem last time. Remember, Jack?”
“All too well, Lynx.”
“After I woke up, you were okay after that, right?”
“I guess. You aren’t going to do this anymore are you?” Jack asked.
“I promise you, I promise all of you, I will only walk behind the Veil for two reasons: to help myself, or to help family. If one of you were in need, I wouldn’t think twice; I would fly out of my body.” I held up my hand against their protests, “Just like you’d walk in front of a bullet for me. You know you would, so that’s going to have to be our understanding. Okay?”
Twenty-Four
I found Striker sitting at his desk, his elbows resting on the arms of his chair, steepling his fingers in front of his face. I slid onto his lap and waited for him to look me in the eye.
I cupped his chin in my palm. “It’s over,” I said.
“I don’t think so. Were you telling me the truth about the women from Africa? They were trying to show you something to save you?”
“That was my ‘knowing.’ Yes.” I curled up, so my head rested against his chest. His arms wrapped around me, his cheek brushed against my hair.
“I don’t want you playing with Consuela any more. You’re done. I want you to come to the barracks, and live at my place until she loses interest.”
“You’re about to leave on your mission next week.”
“I tried to get this re-assigned or postponed, but Command says they need me now.”
“Gater’s got my back.” I tilted my head so I could see his eyes.
“Don’t get me wrong, Gater’s as good as they come. He’s the guy I’d want next to me, no matter what the situation. Him, Jack, the whole Strike Force Team. I like how we all work together. But walking away when there’s crazy in your life is a hard thing to do, Chica.”
“If you’re going to love me, then you’re going to have to get used to crazy. I’m a crazy magnet.”
“I’m starting to understand how true that is.” Striker’s arms tightened around me as he stood up. He turned me into a tight hug and bent to kiss me. His mouth pressed against mine, warm and gentle; I could taste his exhaustion.
“Let’s go to your place, so I can tuck you into bed,” I said.
Striker collapsed onto his mattress, drained. He pulled me under the covers with him holding me tightly against his body. I figured he needed to feel I was safe so that he could sleep deeply. Though I wasn’t tired at all, lying here with him was the least I could do after his week’s vigil. And soon he’d be gone.
***
We gathered out on the Iniquus lawn after lunch. Axel, our team’s explosives expert, manipulated the computerized robot stalking Brennon’s briefcase that lay out in the sun on the other side of the field. As Axel maneuvered the robot up to the case, the team was laughing and having a great time. Robots and explosives — might as well have been Christmas morning.
We all watched the monitor closely; the robot stood flush with the case. A pincer reached out to twirl the locking system, using the combination that I had uncovered while behind the Veil. The mechanical arm moved with amazing dexterity, slowly releasing the catch, and retrieving the papers and files. Axel wiggled the toggles and the robot zipped back to us with the booty. Again Axel maneuvered the machine to the case. The robot sent a video image to our laptop; I studied the screen until I could show Axel where the concealed latch protected the hidden compartment. We all held our breath while Axel maneuvered the motorized claw to release the hook.
Even though the authorities definitely had enough evidence and testimony to implicate Brennon on slavery, kidnapping, and torture charges, we really hoped to solve the cyber-terrorism case. Both because we wanted to make sure we had scooped up all of the accomplices, but also because Iniquus pride and prestige in having protected America hung in the balance.
The robot headed back with the flash drives, to the sound of cheering. Axel sent the robot back in to detonate the explosives. A loud bang with an impressive fireball and shower of sparks made us all duck and cover. The men laughed and slapped each other on the back. Boys.
While Deep took the information to the computer lab for analysis, Striker and I headed to my house. I needed to pack my bags and tell my friends I was going on a business trip for a while, and that I wasn’t sure when I’d be back. We drove down Silver Lake Road and around a huge moving van parked in front of Maria’s house.
“What the heck?” Striker swung into an open parking space in front of my house and pulled out his phone. We waited inside the Iniquus Hummer while Striker listened to Command. I could feel his frustration mounting.
“Understood.” His clipped voice ended the conversation.
“You’re not happy.”
“Nope, not happy.” Striker got out of the vehicle and came around just in time to catch me as I jumped down.
“Can you tell me what’s going on?”
He waited until we were in my house before he answered. “Tactical failure. Apparently, Consuela figured out her computer was being remotely viewed. She swept the house and spent yesterday evening destroying all of our equipment. Now she’s moving out.”
“And you’re upset because when she was here, we could keep an eye on her. Now that she’s moving, she’ll be in the mists?”
“Exactly.” He held my curtain to the side as he watched out my front window. “I need you to talk to the neighbors. See if you can pick up any gossip
“Okay.” I moved toward my stairs. “I’ll throw some things in my bags. People should be coming home from work soon, and I can make the rounds. You still want me to move to the barracks now that she’s gone?”
“Definitely.” The tension under his eyes was a give-away. This was serious.
“And this is still for my safety’s sake?” I looked up at him coyly.
Striker gave me a wink. “Yeah, I want to guard your body.”
As soon as I spotted Manny and Justin gabbing on the sidewalk, I abandoned my packing and sauntered over.
“Hey, did you see Consuela moved out today?” I pointed toward her house.
“She got transferred. What a drag after just getting settled in,” Justin said.
“Yeah? Where’s she relocating?” I shoved my hands deep in my pockets.
“New York City,” Manny said.
“And her house? Is that going back on the market?”
Justin looked back over his shoulder at Consuela’s house. “She said she’s going to rent it to her niece.”
“Her niece?” Holy cow, now what?
“Kid’s living in a bad situation. Boyfriend problems. Consuela was trying to get her to come and live with her, but the girl, Tammy, is young and didn’t want to live under her aunt’s thumb, so now that Consuela is leaving, she’s going to rent the house and move in.”
“Have you met her? Tammy, I mean,” I pressed.
“Yeah, I know her. She’s babysat for my boys a couple of times. Cute girl. Not the sharpest knife in the drawer, though, if you know what I mean,” Manny said.
“Do you happen to know Tammy’s last name?”
“Pineda. Why?” asked Manny.
�
��Curious about my new neighbor.” Curious to know what the hell Consuela’s got planned, that is. “She grow up in this area?”
“Consuela said she graduated from my old high school, Woodrow Wilson, so Tammy’s been here for a while.” Justin was twirling his keys and looking over at his car with a got-a-go stance.
“Any other gossip I should know about?” I asked.
“None that comes to mind, Baby Girl.” Manny said.
“Okay then I need to give you guys hugs. I’m off to some computer training for my work. I’m not sure how long I’ll be out of town. They said at the office that if things got busy, they’d have to call me back to Washington. Can you keep an eye on my house? Make sure it’s not on fire or anything? I’ll be reachable on my cell.”
“Will do.” Manny released me from a bear hug. “Hey, you be safe now.”
“I’ll try.” I waved good-bye. Cowardly or not, I was thankful to be heading to Striker’s to live far away from all this mess. As I strolled toward my porch, my mouth bowed with pleasure. The vibrations that tickled my nerves had nothing to do with my fear of leopard woman and everything to do with my thoughts of spending time with oh-so-delectable Commander Rheas.
Twenty-Five
“Chica, what kinds of things did you pack in your bag?” Striker asked. We were cozied up on the couch in his living room, watching the evening news.
“Um, I have workout clothes, regular work clothes, and a couple of dresses with heels.”
“Fancy dresses?”
“No, regular dresses. Why?” My curiosity was piqued. A date?
“We’re in the field on assignment tomorrow night, and we need you with us.”
Not a date. Shoot. “What’s up?”
“It’s a delicate situation.” He eased down the sofa to rest his head on the back. “We have a guy we need to run surveillance on. He’s got bucks, and he’s got a security team. A good one. He put a call in to Cachet for a girl for tomorrow night. The manager there has a working relationship with Iniquus, so he’s going to let you take the job.”
“I’m taking it that Cachet is a prostitution ring?”
“Escort service. They provide intelligent, well-mannered, beautiful women for out-of-town clientele. It’s the girl’s call whether she pursues extra-curricular activities. We need you to be scintillating company, and make sure he takes you back to his hotel. Get him to have a little spiked drink, and let us in through the balcony. We’ll do our work, and you’ll leave the way you came in so as not to arouse suspicion. If at any time you think things aren’t going well, you’ll bail, okay?”
Striker had an odd glint in his eye.
I tilted my head as if that would help me read him better. “Yeah, okay. What’s the mark’s name?”
“Griffin Babcock. I’ll get you all of the particulars later. Your name is going to be Gabriella Ricci.”
There it was again, a brief shadow across the eyes. Huh. My guess was he was keeping something from me. “That’s pretty. I like it. It’s Italian, though.”
“He requested an Italian girl.”
Italian? I was Irish descent, for heaven’s sake. “Striker, how am I going to pull that off?”
“Don’t know. I was hoping you had something in your bag of tricks.”
“Okay. Where am I going?”
“Halston Ball.”
I sat bolt upright. “No way! Are you kidding me? That’s going to be full of politicians and celebrities. I don’t have a gown suitable for that. I’ll have to call Celia and ask her if she has something.”
“Yeah - about those political types. We need you to plant a bug on Babcock, as soon as he’s in the car; you’ll be wired, as well. We need to make his connections.”
I waited for more, but Striker was suddenly very engrossed by a Tide commercial. I knew that was all I’d pull from him tonight.
The next day, I drove over to Celia’s, so I could look through her closet and try on a few of her gowns. Celia and I were the same size, and as the wife to a bajillionaire, her job was to look marvelous. What that meant to me was lots of free, beautiful clothes. Since Celia did red carpets and celebrity dinners all the time, I was sure she’d have the right thing for Gabriella Ricci to wear tonight hanging in her closet.
As I drove, I thought through my next move with my Maria problem. I needed to investigate this Tammy chick and see how involved she was with her auntie. I’d ask Iniquus to run surveillance equipment through the house again, and Tammy’s car. I wondered how long it would last. Would Maria come and do a sweep again? Well even that would be information. It would mean that Maria was concerned about what we’d pick up. I’d do a background check on Tammy for sure, casting a wide net, maybe I would catch a new lead. Beyond that, I wanted to locate Maria’s husband. See if he was on anyone’s grid.
“Celia, you have wonderful taste. I love these gowns. They’re beautiful. Are you sure it’s okay for me to borrow one?” I held up a dress cut like a Grecian goddess’s.
“More than okay. You know I can’t wear them again, and they’re just taking up my closet space. I don’t like that one.” Celia wrinkled her nose. “That bronze is too hard for a blond to wear - it looks harsh.”
“Why do you have it? You’re as fair as I am.” I looked at my reflection in her floor to ceiling mirror.
“A designer friend gave it to me as a gift. I’ve never actually worn it, myself.” Celia was sprawled across her bed with her head resting on her hands, kicking her bent legs like a school girl.
“Do you mind if I try it on? See if it fits?”
“Knock yourself out.” Celia flopped onto her back. “Do you have a Spanx with you? Grab one out of my drawer there.”
I tried the dress on, standing on my toes, as I looked in the mirror. I thought it looked acceptably Italian.
“See?” Celia asked. “You look terrible. It’s the wrong color for you. Try the indigo one I laid out. It’s comfy and beautiful on.”
“You know, I think I’m going to use this one, if it’s okay with you. I’m going to get a spray tan, so that should help.”
Celia made a face. “Okay, if that’s the one you want, you’re welcome to it. Take the Spanx. Don’t wear hose. Here.” Celia crawled off her bed and went into her closet to draw out a shoe box with a pair of strappy sandals that matched the hue of the dress perfectly. She pawed through her jewelry closet and pulled out a snake arm-cuff that went above the elbow. The snake’s eyes looked like rubies, and it stuck out a diamond studded tongue.
“It’s a fake,” Celia said. “But it looks fun with that dress.”
I gave Celia a quick kiss good-bye and left with my loot. My next stop was the day spa. I chose a dark garnet polish for my mani/pedi and went as dark as the technician dared with the spray-on-tan. In their salon, the stylist used a temporary hair color in deep chestnut to darken my hair and eye brows. They dyed my eyelashes black. I stared at myself in the mirror. Wow, I looked creepy being so dark with my pale blue eyes, like a Voodoo priestess. I left with my hair styled in big, soft, almost-black curls.
When I got back to the barracks, Striker wasn’t home. I found my wire on the countertop with a note, “Wish I were there to help you get this in place. I’ll be back to pick you up at six — Striker.”
I checked my watch. I still had ten minutes until the Iniquus photographer would be here to get my picture for my fake ID.
I stared into the bathroom mirror and saw the shock on my face reflected back at me. My makeup brush dangled in my fingers. I had been thinking of Babcock and the mission when Hydra Marionette glowed before me. A “knowing.” Shit. Is Striker going to tell me at the briefing? I tapped my foot. Well, I’d soon find out.
With the tech gone to get my driver’s license manufactured, I finished up the makeup job, trying to find the right balance between lovely lady and arm-candy-for-hire. My dark brown contact lenses really helped. I pulled on my Spanx, strapped on my heels, and lifted the soft, silky fabric up over my hips.
When I heard Striker at the door, I drifted out for inspection, pulling the snake up my left arm. Striker gave a start when he saw me..
“Striker? It’s me.” I laughed. I guess that meant I was pretty well disguised.
Striker walked around me, looking me over. “That’s amazing.” A wolfish grin spread over his lips.
My breath hitched. “Thank you.” I managed. “Italian enough to make Babcock happy, you think?”
“Babcock’s going to be happy. Maybe a little too happy.” Striker narrowed his eyes. Was that jealousy I read there?
“We need to make sure he stays at the party.” Striker said. “He can’t be racing back to his hotel room with you.” He paused for a beat. “Let me clarify; his hotel room is the most important part of the plan. That takes precedence. But the longer he stays at the party the better. We’d like to see who he knows, and what he talks about at the ball. You’ll need to follow your instincts. We’ll have eyes and ears on you the whole time, so whatever happens we’ll have your back.”
Deep walked in, dressed in his perfectly tailored tuxedo. He nodded at Striker and shot a curious glance at me. “How do you do, ma’am,” Deep said.
Striker bent over laughing. “This is Lynx.”
“Lynx?” Deep took a step closer and scanned over me. He let out a low whistle. “Damn, woman.”
Okay, so I knew my disguise was a good one. Striker reviewed the plans for the evening with me and Deep. He checked to make sure my wire was functional, and handed me my fake driver’s license and credit cards, which I slid into my evening bag.
