Nadia remained silent. Kelso hadn’t mentioned that the Counter Terrorism Task Force (CTTF) was working with Garrison again, so she wasn’t commenting on the investigation or her findings.
His eyes squinted at her. “You’re not talking.”
“I don’t comment on ongoing investigations.”
The tic under his eye returned. She’d gotten used to his tells. Currently, he was trying not to say something that would piss her off and derail his chances of gaining her cooperation.
He backed up a step as though to give her space.
Another sign he was trying to make her feel more relaxed.
However, that had the opposite effect and made her more wary. “I told you. I’m done helping you. You’re the CIA. You have resources at your disposal, especially since you report directly to the DNI.”
“Right now, you’re my best resource.”
“Get out,” Nadia fumed. “Take your things with you.” She turned away from him and grabbed her backpack off the armchair. “See yourself out and lock the fucking door.”
“I have an upgrade to your Wasp 10k.”
She paused and then slowly turned around. “What?” she asked weakly. Her geeky heart pounded with the rhythm of a thousand drums.
John approached her stealthily much like a jungle cat would prowl toward its prey.
As for Nadia, she was feeling like a fly being lured into a pot full of honey.
His mouth twitched. “Weren’t you complaining about the camera?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve got higher resolution and faster frame refresh rate. The new Wasp is installed with a visual intelligence app.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope.”
“Tell me more.”
John grinned. Damn him. He knew he had her hook, line, and sinker.
After enumerating the Wasp’s new features, he asked, “Do you want to see it?”
“Yes, but what do you want in return?”
“It’s all yours if you go with me to this event tonight.”
“Event?” she frowned. “Tonight?”
“I’ve secured us an invitation to Huxley’s shindig at his penthouse.”
She pulled back her shoulders. “It’s sneaky of you to take advantage of my gadget-loving heart.” Or gadget-whore heart, but she didn’t say that aloud. “But you need to give me more than a future cyber threat if you want my help. I’m not following you blindly, John. I need to know it’s worth it before I piss off the best pen tester on the planet and have his wrath rain down on me.”
“Didn’t figure you for a chicken.”
Nadia’s eyes narrowed. “Chicken. No? But pissing off Ken Huxley is suicidal and that I’m not. And you know that to be true, otherwise the DHS would’ve used more convincing methods to get him onboard.”
John’s mouth tightened as they squared off. “We’re concerned with the Ukrainian hacking group.”
“Argonayts?”
“Yes. Since you’re not keen on sharing, I’ll tell you this. I believe Brandt’s death is not suicide, but an effort by the Argonayts to silence anyone who can expose them.”
“You have proof of that?”
“I have an asset in Ukraine who has the evidence, and I believe there are more targets.”
“Huxley’s Crown-Key.”
“Yes. If Huxley comes under Homeland Security protection, he will have the backing of the U.S. government to go after any rogue state or cyber actor that tries to exploit his technology. He will not end up dead like Brandt with our hands tied to go after his murderer.”
Damn, he made a strong point, and if the Argonayts were in any way connected to Brandt’s murder then …
She rubbed her brow before peering at John. “You’re going to do the talking. All I have to do is get him to a place where you can make your case.”
“Fair enough.”
“And you’re going to hand-over that Wasp right now.”
John headed to the black duffel laying on the floor and lifted a black case from its depths and held it out to her. “Done.”
She suppressed the urge to snatch it from his hands, calmly taking the black container from him and flipping the lid open. There, nestled in foam that had been laser cut to accommodate the shape, sat three shiny Wasp drones looking more badass than her last ones.
Her geeky heart did a happy jig.
Nadia stared at herself in the mirror, feeling a tiny bit of guilt in agreeing to Garrison’s plan to draw Ken into the protection of the spy agency. Of course, it wouldn’t be the CIA on record. They would still be Homeland Security. Ken had always had a crush on her. Before he hit his first million and aside from the gaming community, they were both into cosplay. One year she dyed her hair black and dressed in full-goth after getting the dragon tattoo on her right arm.
Right then and there, she became Ken’s dream girl, and he called her Lisbeth—as in Lisbeth Salander, the hacker genius in the book “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.”
She wasn’t about to dye her hair black again. Honestly, she’d been thinking of going back to her strawberry blond roots. However, Nadia had been digging the platinum blonde hair lately and more than debated in bleaching it almost to white until her trusty hairstylist advised against it, saying it would make her look ghostly.
Decisions. Decisions.
Good thing shoes were an easier choice.
Just buy more of them. Nadia was a lover of funky shoes. She peered at the pair currently hugging her legs. Suede over-the-knee boots paired with a black, slinky cami-dress that hit above mid-thigh. The style certainly displayed the dragon tattoo on her arm. Dark kohl lined her eyes, and her lipstick was darkish red, almost maroon.
Garrison said to dress sexy. He intended to use her for a distraction in their plan to lure Ken to an area where he could talk to the tech millionaire. Flirting with Ken with John’s encouragement somehow soured her stomach.
Her eyes flared as she saw herself in the mirror.
Dress sexy.
She would show him sexy.
She exited the bedroom just as Garrison was buttoning up a black dress shirt that he left open at the collar. Gold chains hung around his neck, and he had a gaudy gold ring on his finger. He had sleeked back his hair and she was suspicious that he’d done something to his nose. It looked a bit wider at the base and he appeared to have slathered on an orange tanner. He had the seventies Italian mobster vibe down pat.
Nadia smiled inwardly when John’s eyes darkened, and his jaw clenched into a hard line.
“I said to dress sexy, not give Ken Huxley a heart attack.”
She shrugged her shoulders while she strutted further into the living room. The three-inch heels on her boots certainly gave her more elevation so she could stare more closely at John’s face.
Eyes narrowing at his nose, she asked, “Is that a prosthetic appliance?”
He frowned and touched it briefly. “Is it obvious?”
“Only because I know what your real nose looks like.”
“I can see the outline of your nipples. Maybe you should change into something else.”
“Why? I’m proud of my boobs,” she retorted. “Do you know how many chest exercises I had to do so these girls stay up without support? Besides, I don’t get to dress like this often.”
She backed away and made a full turn, knowing that John had probably spied her bare ass cheeks because she was wearing a thong. Nadia thought she heard him give a strangled groan, but when she turned back to face him, his face was impassive.
“Are you ready?” he asked brusquely.
“I’ll just grab my wrap.”
“Good idea,” he muttered when she disappeared into her bedroom.
When she returned to the living room, Nadia was surprised to see her father scowling at John. Surprising, because her dad used to like Garrison. But this time, displeasure emanated from her father’s body language.
“Are you dragging my daughter into another one o
f your secret missions?” Stephen asked.
John said nothing.
“Dad, stop it.” She inserted herself between them. “Garrison needs a little help, that’s all.”
Her father’s scowl deepened. “Then why are you dressed that way?” His gaze lifted past her shoulders. “You disappear for weeks and, when you return, you’re taking my daughter to a club. What’s this, a date?”
Nadia’s face flamed. “No! John needs help—”
“With one of her contacts,” Garrison inserted smoothly. “I swear, Stephen, this has nothing to do with you or the Ukrainians who were after you. Everyone involved has been arrested. This is something else entirely.”
“Can you leave us for a minute, John?” Her father looked at her. “I’d like to speak to my daughter.”
“We were getting ready to leave, anyway. I’ll wait for you outside.” Without saying another word, John left her alone with her dad.
He didn’t say anything for a while, just stared at her. Not able to hold his gaze, she looked away. “Why are you here? It’s too early for poker night to be over.”
“We ran out of whiskey. I was heading to my apartment but I saw your lights on and thought to say hi. I was not expecting to see John here.” Stephen sighed. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for him to keep dragging you into things. You have enough on your plate with the LAPD.”
Nadia would agree if Garrison’s case wasn’t so related to hers.
“And I don’t like that you’re disappearing into yourself.”
Not sure where her father was going with this, she caught his gaze. “What do you mean?”
“I can’t keep track of who you are,” he said. He gestured to her outfit. “This is not you.”
“Dad, this is sort of a disguise.”
“A disguise? Or is it because you don’t know who you want to be?”
“You never said this when I cosplayed.”
“You were in your teens.” He stared at his feet. “And it was my fault.”
“Dad, we’ve talked about this.”
He raised his eyes, and her heart cried at the torment in them.
“I should have been honest with you about our situation here in America from the start.”
She gave a sad smile. “You were trying to protect me.”
“You went from being a precocious and confident child to a teenager trying to hide from the world.”
Stephen was talking about that day they were suddenly uprooted from their suburban home in Virginia after an agency leak exposed them to Russian assassins once more. She was twelve when she discovered the truth of their immigration to the United States. Her father had been a defector and not simply a pharmacist. Eight months of safe houses ensued, and, with it, the need for disguise. In Nadia’s young mind, that was coloring her hair, or changing her hair cut, wearing different styles of clothes, or noticing how wearing glasses changed her look drastically. It wasn’t until Halloween during their sixth month of hiding that she discovered the power of costumes, and how she could transform into someone else.
She reached out and gave her dad’s arm a squeeze. “I turned out okay, didn’t I? And I enjoyed cosplay. Being a geek is my calling.”
“I was happy when you found a job with the LAPD.”
“See?”
“But somehow I feel like you’ve reverted into not knowing who you are again,” he sighed. “I think John is a bad influence.”
“I’m not arguing there,” Nadia laughed. “But not in the way you mean.”
“Do you really think that man knows who he is?”
Stephen stared at her for a few seconds longer, and then he gave one shake of his head and disappeared out her back door.
3
Nadia hadn’t seen Ken Huxley since the DHS investigation. She’d known he was making the ultimate ethical hacking device. Of course, ethical was just a way to market his invention to make it sound legal. Garrison was right. In the wrong hands, it could cause a lot of damage the likes of which would be hard to comprehend. Stealing classified information or taking down the power grid. Even water treatment plants were computerized nowadays. Nadia wasn’t up to date yet on the newest version of the Crown-Key. Ken had made millions around the world by selling his services and using the device to do it.
Case in point. He now lived in the penthouse of one of the swankiest buildings in LA. According to Garrison, he paid roughly thirty million dollars for this property. Nadia had seen pictures of him on society pages and with a new personal style suited to his success, giving up those garish glasses and opting for frameless spectacles. The Ken she used to know wore thick-lensed square glasses, had hair that had not seen a barber in months, and a fashion sense belonging in the nineties.
“You still okay doing this?” John whispered beside her. They were standing in front of a wall of glass mounted under stainless steel. The elevator doors glittered like stamped diamonds.
They hadn’t talked much on the ride here. Nadia sensed disapproval in the CIA officer’s body language, and she was sure it had everything to do with the way she was dressed.
“I was never okay with this deception,” Nadia replied out of the corner of her mouth. With his closeness, she could smell his cologne.
And it was nauseating.
“But as you’re always fond of saying, it’s for the greater good. And I’d feel better if I’m there when you make your case.” Her nose twitched. “And please don’t get too close to me. Did you pour the whole bottle on you?”
He grinned, leaning even closer. “It’s part of my disguise.”
“What? Making sure people give you a wide berth?”
“Just you watch.”
And she did.
As a crowd gathered around them, she noticed more than one woman ignoring their dates while edging closer to John.
“This elevator is taking too long,” one person in the lobby crowd said.
“That’s the problem with being fashionably late to Huxley’s parties that people live for,” another replied.
The elevator finally arrived, and everyone surged forward. Nadia was surprised when John put his arms loosely around her and guided her in. Somehow, he ended up at the back of the elevator with Nadia’s butt pressed against a part of his anatomy. As the elevator car started moving, she became aware of a hardness growing behind her.
She didn’t mean to squirm.
John’s fingers tightened around her arms.
“Stop moving that ass,” he hissed by her ear.
Goosebumps lifted on her nape and she shivered. Heat pulsed between her thighs causing her to squeeze them. But she had to move her legs because she was standing at an awkward angle … and she had to move her hips.
“Nadia,” he rasped. “If you don’t want me walking around with a hard on …”
His chest heaved in and out behind her. Sweat beaded on her upper lip. She stared at the numbers on the elevator.
Six more floors. The elevator made several stops, but as people got off, more would get in.
“Did he invite the whole fucking building?” Garrison derided.
By the time they arrived at the penthouse, Nadia felt feverish. It was a blessing when the elevator doors opened, and the throng of people dispersed.
John’s palm slipped into hers, and they walked out together hand-in-hand. “Are you okay?” she asked.
“I’ll live,” he grunted. “There’s a reason I memorize baseball stats.”
Speakers were blaring with the party already in full swing. A DJ was set up at the center of the penthouse in front of a stone column. Nadia spied Ken holding court in the living room. The whole penthouse had twenty-foot ceilings and wall-to-wall glass, treating everyone to a sweeping view of Los Angeles. Nadia identified with geeks like Ken who could talk endlessly about a topic they were passionate about. And the technology nerds? They were in one corner wishing they were somewhere else, but when you were invited by a tech messiah you aspired to emulate one day, making an appea
rance was a must. In a way, Ken Huxley was representative of the bullied demographic in high school. The ones who weren’t popular enough, the ones who were socially challenged when most of the focus was on the jocks and sports that would bring prestige to the school.
Good thing Stephen instilled in her the importance of an education. Nadia wasn’t one of the popular girls in high school, and it reminded her of the conversation with her dad earlier that evening. She was twelve when she found out the real circumstances surrounding their life in the U.S. The inciting incident triggered the importance of not calling attention to herself. Yet, after the danger had passed, Nadia couldn’t seem to shed the need to constantly reinvent herself with different looks. Cosplaying was a way to feed that need without seeming paranoid. As for her finding kinship with the nerds and geeks? Science and technology were her best way to assume control. Math and equations gave her finite solutions. She hated uncertainty, which was why she hated what happened in Mexico.
There were men walking around in khakis and black shirts, wires hanging around their necks or comms appliances stuffed in their ears. There were over half a dozen of them scattered all over the penthouse from what Nadia could see. A thread of anxiety tightened in her gut. She glanced up at John.
“Security,” he mouthed, then he nodded in Ken’s direction.
Nadia’s gaze followed his signal when her old friend spotted her, a smile splitting his face. Ken waved her over.
“Guess it’s showtime,” John said on their approach. Ken broke away from the people he was entertaining, and his eyes immediately flicked to Garrison before returning to her.
“Nadia, long time, no see.” Ken glanced at Garrison again. She shook her hand loose from John’s hold and stepped up to Ken to give him a hug.
“How’s my Lisbeth?” he asked.
“You’re still stuck on that nickname?” Nadia laughed.
“You’ll always be Lisbeth to me.” This time he gave John his full attention. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
Her Covert Protector (Rogue Protectors Book 4) Page 3
