The Eagle (Spy Girl Book 2)

by Jillian Dodd

  “No, I’m on Prince Lorenzo’s yacht in Ibiza.”

  “You mean King Vallenta?”

  “Yeah, whatever.”

  “I want you back in Washington,” his father says as I hear a chopper off in the distance.

  I go outside to investigate.

  The chopper lands on the yacht’s helipad, and Lorenzo gets out looking sexy as ever in an all black suit, black spread collared shirt, and shiny Italian loafers.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, greeting him with a tight hug. It’s only been a few days since I’ve last seen him, but it feels like much longer.

  “I’m told Daniel needs to get back to the States,” he says, giving me cheek kisses.

  “Are you sure you don’t just want him off your boat?” I whisper.

  He winks at me in reply.

  When Daniel joins us on the helipad, Lorenzo cups his shoulder, like they are still buddies. “It seems your Secret Service would prefer to have you in America rather than out on my boat with all that’s going on. My father and President Hillford were friends, so I will be departing for America shortly. Would you like a ride home on the Royal Montrovian Jet?”

  “Yes, I would,” Daniel replies gratefully. “Thank you.”

  The former Dean of Blackwood Academy storms through the Black X headquarters and barges into the office of their leader, immediately shouting, “Did you conspire to kill the President?”

  “What are you talking about, old man?” the leader asks.

  “The President of the United States was just shot. It’s all over the news.”

  “Well, that’s quite the interesting plot twist,” the leader replies, tilting his head thoughtfully.

  “What do you mean?” The former Dean calms himself down, nervously smoothing the front of his trousers with his hands. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “You said he was their pawn. You wanted him dead!”

  “Just because I wanted him dead, doesn’t mean I did it,” the leader states. “The man has a lot of enemies in the world. Was it a terrorist attack?”

  “No group has claimed responsibility as of yet. But it only happened in the last hour.”

  “What else do you know?” the leader interrogates. “Have you called your contact at the CIA?”

  “I have a call into him, but I would expect he is a little busy at the moment.”

  “Why don’t you go over there, visit an old friend for lunch?”

  “Because they all think I’m dead?” The former Dean can’t help but give the leader the kind of eye roll that probably makes him look like his favorite former student.

  “Send the Ghost to my office and cancel Huntley and Ari’s vacation. I want them back on American soil.” The leader then puts his nose down and starts tapping away on his keyboard. “I’m going to hack my way into Langley and see what I can find out.”

  When we get to the palace, Ari is there waiting for us. I give him a hug. “I missed you. I take it you heard the news?” I ask, the two of us staying outside to chat.

  “I missed—” He’s interrupted as we simultaneously get a text from our personal concierge, meaning one of the Kates.

  Concierge: We have secured your usual hotel suite in D.C. Please return to the States immediately.

  Ari smiles at me as he types into his phone.

  Ari: We’ll be staying at our father’s estate. And we’ll have guests, including the King of Montrovia and his entourage of 10.

  Concierge: I’m not sure that can be arranged on such short notice.

  Ari: I have a key and was told the house is always fully staffed.

  Concierge: I’ll get back to you.

  Ari: No need. Just tell them to prepare for our arrival.

  “Can we do that?” I ask him.

  “Of course we can. I’ll take care of this. Why don’t you go inside and find out what time we’re leaving.”

  As I make my way down the hall to Lorenzo’s study, I hear his voice. “What are your intentions regarding Huntley?”

  I stop in my tracks, wondering who he’s talking to.

  Then I hear Daniel speak. “I have no intentions,” he states, which hurts more than expected.

  “Seriously?” Lorenzo asks.

  “It’s new and fun. A little early for intentions.”

  “Not as far as I’m concerned. As an honorable gentlemen and as your friend, you need to know that I will be doing my best to court her.”

  “Court her? More like bed her. Is that why you’re all bent out of shape, because she hasn’t slept with you?”

  “She’s different,” Lorenzo states.

  “Sure she is,” Daniel agrees. “May the best man win.”

  We arrive at the airport with numerous personnel in tow, including Lorenzo’s personal secretary, his communications secretary, his foreign affairs advisor, an operations manager, and six bodyguards. I wondered why we didn’t use their private airstrip, but now I see why.

  The plane we will be traveling on is an Airbus 380 that is quite large.

  Instead of boarding via air stairs or a jetway, we walk underneath the plane, where a clear glass elevator is waiting to whisk us up inside the jet.

  “I’m pretty sure I’ve seen everything now,” Ari says.

  “Or not,” Daniel counters as the elevator doors side open and we get our first glimpse of the plane’s interior—specifically the floating glass staircase that greets us.

  “We’re on a heightened state of security with what’s going on in the world,” Juan says firmly, leading us to a lush lounge area. “Please take your seats for an immediate departure.”

  After we’ve taken off and reached cruising altitude, Lorenzo leans over and whispers, “May I give you a tour? I would have liked to give you one before the flight, but there wasn’t time.”

  The King’s advisors have moved into the dining room where they are following the news channels of the world, and Ari and Daniel are asleep in their seats.

  “Your plane is quite luxe. I’ve seen pictures of Air Force One, and it seems very utilitarian compared to this.”

  “The President of the United States is a paid position. Important, but not quite the same as being part of a centuries long Royal Family.” He takes my hand and leads me up the staircase. “This is the sleeping floor and consists of four staterooms, the largest of which is mine.”

  He opens the door, allowing me to enter the room first. It features a king-sized bed, private sitting area, mini bar, and a spa-like bathroom.

  “This is beautiful,” I gush.

  He pushes me against the wall in the bathroom and kisses me hard, like he did in the tunnel.

  I shouldn’t be kissing him back.

  I know I shouldn’t be.

  But I am.

  Because I need to know that his kiss feels the same. That the passion I felt before the kidnapping is still there.

  When Daniel cornered me in the bathroom at the Queen’s Ball, I couldn’t have sex with him. I told myself it was because of my mission but, really, it was because of my growing feelings for Lorenzo. If I’m being honest, I was a little disappointed to find Daniel on the yacht. I had held out hope that Lorenzo would be joining me, and it broke my heart a little because I thought it meant he had no further romantic interest in me. That we were over before we even got started.

  “I can’t do this,” I say.

  “Yes, you can. Your lips betray your true feelings.”

  “That’s why I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry, my darling. I was nervous to kiss you. Afraid the passion would be gone.” We gaze into each other’s eyes. He sighs. “I am prepared to be in an open relationship with you.”

  “An open relationship?”

  “Yes, as you Americans say, no strings.”

  “Lorenzo, no.”

  “Huntley, I am open-minded when it comes to sex. I will see you when you allow me to, and I will cherish every moment we are
together. And when we are apart, if you choose to be in the company of others, that is acceptable.”

  I should take his offer. No strings is the perfect arrangement for me.

  Except . . .

  “You might be fine with it, Enzo, but I’m not.”

  “I don’t understand. Our kiss was exquisite. You say you care for me.”

  “And that’s exactly why I am not fine with it.” He cradles my cheeks in his palms as tears fill my eyes. “I can’t have you, but I couldn’t bear to share you. Can we please just be friends?”

  He kisses me, deeper this time.

  “Of course we can, my sweet.”

  We relax on his bed, me eventually falling asleep. It’s about a nine-hour flight to D.C. Although we left Montrovia in the morning, due to the time change, we land in the Capitol midday.

  Upon arrival at Ares Von Allister’s mansion, we are greeted by a butler named Charles, who comes with the house. Apparently, Ellis is still holding down the fort in Montrovia.

  “Welcome to Le Chateau de Luminere, or House of Light,” Charles says. “Built with French craftsmanship in 1927 on five acres of land and expanded over the years to around sixteen thousand square feet. In the renovation, your father combined the old world charm of the home with hi-tech conveniences and security. Would you like to enjoy a tour or would you prefer to be shown directly to your rooms?”

  “I say we go to our rooms, freshen up, and meet down here for drinks. Then I’d love a tour.”

  “As would I,” Lorenzo agrees.

  “I’ll just take a drink now,” Daniel states. “The Secret Service is picking me up within the hour. I’m to report to One Naval Observatory immediately.”

  “Well, it won’t take you long to get there, at least,” the butler says. “The Vice President’s home is only a hop, skip, and a jump from here. Five minutes or so by car.”

  We decide to have drinks first, but soon Daniel and Lorenzo are splitting their focus between phone conversations and the television.

  Ari leads me out to the courtyard to speak in private. “So much for a few weeks off,” he says.

  “When do you think we will get our mission?”

  “Soon, I suspect.”

  “So, did you have fun at your party?” I ask, one eyebrow raised in amusement.

  A wide grin breaks out across his face. “Yes. I’m sad our vacation was cut short.”

  “Do you really have a key to this house?”

  “Yes, I do.” He holds out a key. “And I have one for you, too.”

  “The house is beautiful. Before, you mentioned a research facility on site. Can I see it?”

  “Of course, and I’d like to do some digging into Ares. We were told his death was sudden, but he had numerous properties around the world, which he only recently liquidated. Same with his company. It sold just months before his death. Although, it’s good for us. Can you imagine if we had to run a multi-billion dollar business?”

  “Ari, we didn’t really inherit it. We’re pretending.”

  “And I told you, that’s not true. Legally, at least for now, his estate is ours. But that’s not why I brought you out here. Something’s been bugging me since the kidnapping. Why did you lie to the British agent about who we work for?”

  “I didn’t lie. I work for Black X. Who do you work for?”

  “The CIA.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, are you sure?”

  He ponders my question for a few moments. “No, actually, I’m not. I’ve never been to the CIA offices. I was sent to train with them, but then halfway through, I received a mission.”

  “Who gave it to you?”

  “No one. It was in my locker. Later, I got a call that said I was to report to an attorney’s office where I would learn about my cover and that I would soon have a partner, who would play the role of my long-lost sister. Tell me when you first heard about Black X and everything you know about them.”

  “Just after my sixteenth birthday, I got a visit from my uncle. Well, technically, he wasn’t really my uncle, just a friend of my parents. After they died, I went to Blackwood at his suggestion. I hadn’t seen him in, like, four years, so I was surprised when he showed up. Anyway, he gave me a safety deposit box key and told me that I was free to leave Blackwood, but that he hoped I would stay and finish my training and education.

  After he left, the Dean called me to his office and asked if I planned to stay. I told him yes, and that’s when he told me the truth about my school. He said that it was created by Black X, an agency so covert even the President didn’t know of its existence. Black X believed that the CIA started training their agents too late in life, usually after college, so they started Blackwood to train young, elite spies—who could move in social circles of the rich and powerful. He told me that Black X only recruits those from the school with truly exceptional talent, and that they were already impressed with my scores and skills. My graduation ceremony is this week. I didn’t think I’d be able to attend, but now I’m hoping I can. Since you know about my cover, maybe they will let you come with me.”

  “Let me?”

  “No one but students and instructors are allowed to attend graduations, for obvious reasons.”

  “What about the students’ families?”

  “If the students have families, they are not allowed to attend. We weren’t allowed to talk about our families or tell each other our real names.”

  “So what did you call each other?”

  “We had letters. I was X.”

  “X is the name you’ve gone by for the last six years?”

  “Yes.”

  He studies me more closely. “That almost sounds like a behavior-modification program. Were they brainwashing you?”

  “No, just stripping us of our identity. That’s the point, right—anonymity?”

  “Yeah, I guess. You seem normal.”

  “I am normal.” I slug him in the arm. “Well, as normal as someone can be with my skill set.”

  “Do you know anything else about Black X?”

  “They are small and elite, but well-funded and powerful.” I decide if I should tell him the rest. Ari seems to know so much more about Ares and this whole cover thing than I do, sometimes I feel at a disadvantage.

  “Go on,” he urges, placing his hand gently on my forearm. “What else did he say?”

  “I’m not sure if I should tell you the rest. It’s not in my file. You think my parents were killed in a car accident, right?”

  He narrows his eyes at me. “They weren’t?”

  “For our cover purposes, they were. In real life, they weren’t.” My voice cracks. If he’s going to be my partner, this is something he should know about. I’d hate to have it affect one of our missions. “My mother was a spy who was shot point-blank by an assassin.”

  “I’m sorry—”

  “In front of me.”

  “Oh my God.”

  “A few days later, my dad’s car exploded. I got out, he didn’t. Anyway, the Dean told me that Black X would understand my need for revenge and would help me achieve it. Working for them immediately became my goal. My focus. To be good enough for them to want me. Because deep down I knew that the CIA would probably not allow me to go rogue and kill my mother’s assassin.”

  “That’s your goal?”

  “Personally, yes.”

  “What about professionally?”

  “I want to be the best.”

  “I’m sure it’s painful to discuss, but did the assassin not see that you were there?”

  “I was behind him. He had my mother down on her knees with the gun pointed at her head. I shot him in the shoulder just as he shot and killed her. Then we fought. I got away. I learned from Terrance while we were in Montrovia that my parents were both spies. Before that I thought they worked in international finance.”

  Ari sits down slowly—clearly shocked. “Why didn’t you tell me?”


  “The real question is why didn’t anyone tell me they were spies. If Black X is so powerful, why did they keep it from me?”

  “Maybe they didn’t want to add to your grief. Maybe they were trying to protect you. You still haven’t answered my question.”

  “I wasn’t sure if I could trust you.”

  “What changed your mind?”

  “When I told Intrepid I worked for Black X, you told me not to lie to him. I knew then that honesty is important to you. When I asked how you were notified of your mission, you told me yours had unicorns and rainbows or something. Mine came in an envelope with a monogrammed X wax seal. I asked the Dean if it was from whom I thought it was. He told me yes.”

  “So you really don’t know much about them, either?”

  “No.”

  “That worries me.”

  “Why?”

  “What if we’re playing for the wrong team?”

  “I don’t know how that could be,” I disagree. “We saved the Prince of Montrovia. That was a good thing.”

  “True. It will be interesting to see what they have for us next.” He glances behind me. I turn around and see Daniel coming outside.

  “I have to go. The Secret Service is here.”

  “I’ll walk you out,” I say, escorting him back through the house.

  Two black SUVS are idling in the circular driveway, one with its door open. Two men in dark suits, dark shades, and earpieces are flanking it.

  Daniel pulls me close and whispers in my ear. “Leave your balcony door open tonight. I’ll ditch them if I can.”

  “If you can ditch them, they aren’t doing their job,” I whisper back.

  “We’ll see,” he says with a cocky grin. “Or you could come crash my party.”

  “You’re having a party?”

  “A very private one.”