Covert Interview

by Missy Marciassa

  “The- the-” Although no one seemed to be paying her close attention, Elle realized she probably still shouldn’t say “CIA” aloud. “The agency has broken its agreement with me. Repeatedly. To hell with the agreement.”

  “Let me remind you that what you’re threatening isn’t just something that will get you blacklisted from the intelligence community-”

  The coldness in his voice was probably designed to tame the hiss in hers. Screw that. “What’s the use of being in this ‘community’? I can’t know anything, I can’t tell anyone -” She was like the secret daughter no one talked about.

  “Breaking our agreement is treason against the United States of America.”

  Treason. She wanted to kick the wall but figured she’d hurt herself enough with stupid decisions. “Fuck the community,” she finally said, her voice equally cold. She heard him talking but hung up.

  A shadow loomed over her.

  She looked up to see the doctor who was working on Marni. “Your friend’s going to be fine. She regained consciousness while we were doing her CAT scans.”

  Elle sagged into the chair. She generally didn’t think of herself as a religious person, but she found herself offering a silent prayer of thanks.

  “She has a concussion, but she should be okay,” the doctor continued. “We’ve spoken to her parents, and they’re catching the first flight out here tomorrow morning.” He smiled at her. “She’s asking for you now.”

  Elle’s legs still felt wobbly as she stood and hurried off to check on her friend.

  Marni had a “wicked headache,” as she said, but otherwise it looked like she would make a full recovery. Elle hated to see her eyes wide with fear as she described two men breaking into the apartment. She said one hit her over the head pretty fast, knocking her out. It didn’t look like they had done anything else to her, and luckily they hadn’t fractured her skull.

  Those things were small consolation, however. Elle spent the night sleeping off and on in a bed by her bedside, awaking to make sure her friend was safe and sleeping (except for when the nurses came to wake her up every couple of hours). Once Marni’s terrified parents arrived the next morning, she stopped in her office at Charlottesville before heading down to Norfolk.

  If Kagan’s people were having her followed, then she needed to lead them far away from Marni. Let her heal.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “I’m missing my playmate.” Lyle’s mournful voice almost got Elle to smile.

  “I definitely need some playtime,” she admitted. She told him the whole sordid story about the break-in as she drove east on I-64 to Norfolk. She hated sticking with the “official story,” which was that their break-in and burglary was the latest in a string of break-ins that had been happening in the area. Apparently students were prime targets because they often had limited security and some valuables. Kagan’s guys knew what they were doing when they stole the TV and laptop. She wanted to tell Lyle everything, but she had to think it through before she broke her agreement with the agency.

  “Sugar, you’re coming to the right place.” Lyle’s deep, breathy voice made her clench. “When will you roll into town?”

  “A couple of hours, if that.”

  “Be ready to play.”

  It wasn’t until she hung up that she realized it probably wasn’t safe for him to come to her place- to be seen anywhere near her. She was likely being followed as she drove. Elle checked the rearview mirror. None of the cars behind her looked suspicious, but there were enough of them that she’d have no realistic way of identifying one that was tailing her. Was she being paranoid?

  The image of Marni’s feet sticking out from under the futon mattress had her calling Lyle back.

  “Playtime has to wait, I’m afraid,” she said when he picked up.

  “But you neeeed it.”

  “If things don’t work out with the law, you might have a chance as a hypnotist.” Elle tried to make her voice sound light and almost succeeded.

  “Then listen closely…”

  “I do need some playtime, but I just got a call from work: I have to get on something right away.”

  “It’s summer. Hardly anybody’s even taking classes. What could be so important?”

  Good question. She wished she had an honest answer; making up lies was tiring. “I- it’s a program we’re trying to get up and running before the students return this fall.”

  “Thought your supervisor wasn’t in favor of technological advancements?”

  Elle felt nauseous but still strove to keep her voice light. “Practicing a cross exam on me, counselor?”

  He laughed. “I’m naturally inquisitive, like you. And I have some curiosities where you’re concerned that need satisfying.”

  Elle could see his eyes smoldering. “And I’m going to help you satisfy them, right after I get this thing done for work.”

  His mock howl of pain made her laugh. “Just think,” she said once he quieted down, “I spend tonight working and then you’ll have my undivided attention.”

  “I still don’t think I’ve got the full story on this,” Lyle said, “but I’ll hold you to your date with me tomorrow night. And all weekend. We’ll consider it your detention for making me wait.”

  Elle grinned. “I never once got detention while I was in school.” It was a good thing he had relented: she didn’t have the energy to think up more convincing lies.

  “I’ll show you what you missed.”

  ***

  Elle realized she had some choices to make as she dragged herself into her apartment, glancing around to see who was watching her. She didn’t see anyone, but she knew that didn’t mean a damn thing. Mason called her a couple more times, but she didn’t answer her phone. She didn’t need to hear any more of his “agreement with the agency” bullshit.

  Had it been only seven months ago that she was returning to school for her final semester of college with a ten-year life plan? Nothing about the plan had been exciting or world-changing, but it had been her plan and it had been a solid one. It would have provided what she wanted: the full life she had spent her childhood wishing for. She had wanted a career and a marriage and eventually a family.

  Then the CIA came calling. And Preston. She decided to take a chance, step out of her comfort zone, deviate from the plan and do something exciting. Try a new model for her life, so to speak, not that she’d had much of a plan to work with. Was it time to admit the model just wasn’t yielding satisfactory results?

  Yes, she was with the CIA. But she wasn’t driving to the headquarters every day. She didn’t get to hang out with other CIA analysts, brainstorming ways to help the United States. She was stuck out in some libraries and couldn’t even tell those other analysts she was one of their colleagues. Her only contact with the CIA was the Great Stone Face Mason. Being a part of this community was no better than being a part of her own family. And at least with her family she wasn’t dealing with terrorists.

  Nothing had gone anywhere with Preston. Elle could admit to herself now that despite all of her protestations, she had let herself fall for him. Her heart hadn’t known the score, no matter how many times her brain repeated it. Throughout all of this: going on an op to France, her drugging, the break-in, she hadn’t heard a peep from him. And she sure as hell wouldn’t run into him at the agency: she wasn’t supposed to be at the agency. Did she want a life like his, having flings and working? At least he got to go on ops; she spent her evenings in her apartment. Alone.

  She could see why he didn’t want to give up the ops just yet, though. It had been exciting in France, and what she had done would probably be a cakewalk for him. He also knew how to handle himself in dangerous situations, though, and the last couple of days had made it clear she was clueless.

  Lyle was great. It was too early to know if he was forever, but he was a fun guy, a good guy; she could fall in love with him. But how would she continue to explain the weird demands of her work? If Elle was being honest with
herself, she knew their conversation during her drive down here was just the beginning. Lyle may be playful, but he was also smart: he would know something didn’t add up.

  And could she risk coming home one day to find his feet sticking out from under the futon mattress?

  Elle felt her eyes sting as everything went blurry. She wanted an exciting career, but she also wanted a life. Yeah, Mason had said working with the CIA required sacrifices, and Preston kept talking about knowing the score, but she had never agreed to give up her personal life.

  Her cell rang again. Mason. It was nearly midnight. The guy didn’t give up; she had to give him that. She answered.

  After some silence, she finally asked, “You’ve called me I don’t know how many times and now you don’t want to speak?”

  “Surprised you actually picked up,” Mason responded.

  “Something surprised you?”

  More silence.

  “Elle.” She realized he actually used her first name. The only other time he’d done that, she recalled, was when she was in the hospital. He sighed. “You’ve had a hell of an introduction to working for the agency.”

  “That has to qualify as the understatement of the damn year.”

  “You’ve gotten to experience the sacrifice and the loyalty that we require.”

  There was a silence. Elle finally asked, “Do you have any friends? Family?”

  Mason was silent.

  “Have you ever-” She refused to let her voice so much as quiver. “Have you ever had to choose?”

  No answer.

  “Have they ever gotten hurt-?”

  Mason sighed again. She wondered what he looked like when he sighed. “For what it’s worth, Kagan doesn’t seem to be interested in you anymore. He likes to keep things clean: your roommate being assaulted and not finding anything seem to have convinced him not to trail you any further at this time.”

  “A guy like Kagan would be upset about Marni getting hurt?” It didn’t sound like a big bad terrorist to her.

  “I’m not saying he’s never gotten his hands dirty, but he doesn’t have a long body trail, either. He’s about money. And for right now, we need him out there, continuing to wheel and deal, so we can learn more about the terrorists he’s doing business with.”

  Could Elle believe that? “I’m not sure that changes anything-”

  “Working for the Central Intelligence Agency requires more than just interest.” Mason’s voice was firm again, as if he felt more comfortable citing the company line. “It requires commitment. Dedication. Loyalty to our cause-”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah: to maintain the dominance of the United States,” Elle interrupted. “But you haven’t answered my question. Well, I don’t know if you just don’t have any friends or family-”

  “I do know where my family vacations.” His voice was even and had the precision of a scalpel. “I can visit them whenever I like.”

  Elle’s family relationships weren’t news to her, was nothing new, but the blow landed. She accepted the reality of what they were, and what they weren’t. It didn’t make the reality hurt any less. She closed her eyes but couldn’t stop a couple more tears from sliding out. She drew a deep breath and released it. “So you understand why my friends mean so much to me. They are my family.”

  “You need to learn to listen. Didn’t you hear what I told you when you were hired?”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Elle rubbed her forehead. “I need to be interested, not-”

  “I said our placement strategy was to protect ‘our most valued analysts.’”

  Had he said that? Yes. Yes, she believed he had.

  “You have the capability to do great things in the intelligence community. You already have. The question isn’t if you valuable skills and ability. It’s: are you committed enough to make the necessary sacrifices to use them?”

  Now it was her turn to sigh. “I was told people who joined the CIA could still have families.” Then again, she’d been told she wouldn’t have to spy on her family, either.

  “You can have a family. I know what happened to your friend was scary, but she wasn’t seriously hurt. She may have been if you left something around to blow your cover, but you didn’t. She’ll be fine.” He paused. When she didn’t respond, he added, “And for what it’s worth, your father is no longer under surveillance.”

  Hearing about her father meant something, but it would be a while before she felt Marni was “fine.”

  “Tomorrow I’m coming down for your ninety-day review at nine am. If you decide to tell your family and friends about your association with the agency, don’t even bother showing up. If you do come, I’ll know I have an analyst.”

  With that, Mason hung up.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Sleep came only in fits and bursts throughout the night, despite Elle’s exhaustion. Show up and tell Mason in person she was talking? Just not show up and start calling some of the places she interviewed at before the CIA offered her a position? Some of them might still have openings. Agree to not talk and keep working with the CIA? Demand a position at headquarters and be a regular analyst? Agree to keep her mouth shut but quit? If she quit, would that make her even more vulnerable, since she wouldn’t even have access to the agency if Kagan came sniffing around again? It wasn’t like the police would know anything.

  She had to admit, the actual work she was doing was exciting. It was just the rest of the crap that was more than a minor irritant.

  At one point in the middle of the night, she opened her eyes despite wanting to try to sleep a little more to check the time. The red digits on her alarm clock glowed 3:27. She let her eyes closed again, and for whatever reason, remembered her parents telling her, in her therapist’s office, that she was going to a new private school that had a boarding program. She had been about the start the seventh grade, and it was after her therapist had spent the better part of the last six months trying to get her parents to include her more in each of their family’s lives.

  Elle had asked, “You’re sending me away?”

  Her therapist looked like she was going to speak, but her mother started talking first. “You’re obviously not happy with me,” her mother had said.

  “You can’t even be civil to Peggy,” her father pointed out.

  “She starts fights with me-” Elle started to protest, but her father interrupted.

  “You are not an innocent in all this-”

  “You’ll be in the dorms during the week,” her mother broke in, giving her father a quelling glare. “During the weekends, you’ll stay with me.” She glanced at her father. “And your father’s if you want.”

  Her father didn’t say anything. His face and shoulders were set. He had said in an earlier session he had a stressful job and wanted a peaceful house.

  Elle knew what he meant, even if he didn’t come right out and say it. The house was peaceful as long as she wasn’t around. She looked at her therapist, who looked incredibly sad as she looked back at Elle. Elle knew her therapist understood what was going on. She just couldn’t do anything about it.

  “What if I don’t want to go?” Elle asked.

  There was a long silence as her parents exchanged glances. It was just the two of them; their spouses had stopped coming a long time ago. Her own parents had no desire to be there either, but Elle’s therapist pretty much insisted on it.

  “This is what we think is best,” her mother finally said, her voice firm. Elle knew that voice. It meant the matter was decided.

  Elle stared down at the plush carpet, her hands balled into fists on the arms of the leather chair she sat in. One day, she told herself, she would be the one who decided where she would live. She would have her own house, where everything was as she wanted it. But that day wasn’t today. It wouldn’t come for a long time.

  “Ellie, are you okay with this?” her therapist finally asked in that professional yet gentle tone she had.

  Elle focused on her therapist, ignoring her parents
sitting on the couch next to her chair. “I guess I don’t have a choice.” She didn’t bother to hide the bitterness in her voice.

  Years later, in the dark bedroom of her Norfolk apartment, Elle could still feel the bitterness and the determination that had flamed up in her preteen self as she dozed back off into yet more fitful sleep.

  The next morning after Elle showered and dried her hair, she stopped to look at herself in the mirror. Normally she didn’t stop to look: she was focused on getting ready and going out the door. Yet she still didn’t know what she was going to do. She really studied herself. Her face was a little puffy. Her brown eyes looked ever so slightly swollen, if someone was looking for it. Her brown hair was fairly sleek and shiny, hanging past her shoulders, although a blowout at the hairdresser would do wonders for it. Medium height, medium build, swathed in a fluffy white robe. Without her glasses and with her hair unfrizzed, she looked okay. The mirror had yet to crack. She still wasn’t a goddess, but she didn’t look like a geek anymore, either.

  But she was an adult, as her own father had pointed out. The pre-teen who sat in her therapist’s office was all grown up. She was standing in her own bathroom in her own apartment. She, and only she, got to decide how she wanted to live her life. She called the shots.

  Elle could see her eyes light up as she got an idea. More than that, she had the beginnings of a plan.

  ***

  With a quick greeting and a wave, Elle hurried past the circulation desk to get to her office. She didn’t even look in Raleigh’s office. She had bigger fish to fry that morning. Her office was empty, just the way she left it, so Elle dropped her tote into the lowest drawer of her desk and settled back.

  There was a knock on her open door.

  Mason.

  He stepped inside before she could reply, shut the door, and got his white noise machine set up, plugged in and whirring before sitting down across from her at her desk.