Undercover Soldier

by Linda O. Johnston

  “That’s the intent and it should be fine, at least for you. Your use of your new ID has been limited and it’s not connected to our location. Even so, we still need to be cautious.” He paused, his eyes staring so deeply into hers that she felt almost mesmerized. “So we’re in agreement? I’ll call Roy to come stay with you tomorrow, and you’ll do whatever you can to track the origins of phone numbers and destination of emails on your computer.”

  “Yes, we’re in agreement.” She smiled. “Now, let’s seal the deal.”

  Bad idea? Maybe. But one of these nights was going to be their last together, and Sherra wanted to enjoy his presence all she could until then.

  She pulled the curtains shut behind him, gently removed the phone from his hand and pulled him down for a hot kiss she planned for him to remember all day tomorrow…and thereafter.

  * * *

  Sherra heard Brody’s breathing deepen as she lay beside him. She savored the fact that he was still so near. That their lovemaking had, yet again, been so intense. So wonderful.

  So unforgettable.

  She would need to live with that soon. Things couldn’t keep on as they were.

  Especially since she felt confident of her own search abilities. While he was gone tomorrow, doing whatever he did working undercover as Jim Martin, she would find at least some of the remaining answers he needed.

  Then, after Brody did what he had to and brought the killers to justice, he wouldn’t need to be around her any longer. His sense of military duty would again prevail.

  Her eyes closed, and she let her mind wander up and down her body, savoring in her mind all she had just experienced again.

  Brody, hot and incredibly sexy and, for what was probably the final time, hers.

  * * *

  She put on a cheerful face as he kissed her goodbye behind the still-closed motel room door.

  They had already gone out to a nearby dive for breakfast, and she’d brought back a large cup of coffee to caffeinate her mind and keep it stimulated—not really necessary. Her computer research would do that.

  “You’ll keep in touch with me,” he reminded her, holding her hand and staring into her eyes.

  She had already shown him that she had her own cell phone with her—one the criminals after them wouldn’t know about. Brody had accepted that and laughed about her ingenuity. This time.

  “Yes,” she said softly. “And I’m to stay here and open the door only for the maid and for Roy, who should be here in about an hour.” Brody had called Roy and he had promised to get on his way from Glen Burnie soon. “And I’m to identify the numbers on Bobby’s phone that appear to be from the Pentagon, and I’m to ease my way into the AFD email system and figure out who the muckety-mucks there have been corresponding with—and download any messages that are relevant to show you later.”

  Carefully, of course, through unidentifiable back doors since Brody believed the correspondents at the other end could be working for the military or someplace else in the U.S. government.

  “Most of all,” Brody said, holding her close and leaning his muscular body against the entire front of her, “you’re to be—”

  “Careful,” she finished as his mouth met hers once more.

  * * *

  Brody wasn’t used to worrying much, just doing. And dealing with consequences later.

  But that was regarding things about himself.

  Right now, he was damned worried about Sherra.

  He needed to get up and moving again, not just sit at his desk at AFD. But there were a lot of emails that had come in while he was gone that he needed to deal with in his capacity as human resources peon—more resumes, plus follow-ups from people who had applied before.

  It wouldn’t look good if he accomplished nothing today that someone who had his position for real would get done. So far, no one here had acted as if his cover was blown, so neither would he—although he’d remain cautious. For now, he plowed through at least some of the data.

  Upon arriving at AFD about an hour ago, he had used his prior absence and feigned illness as an excuse to walk around the office facility, greeting people and claiming to want to catch up with all that had happened while he recuperated from his supposed cold. He saw who was around and asked about pending projects, especially those in other countries—mostly Afghanistan.

  There was, in fact, an upcoming bid on a teardown and replacement of a bombed-out police station.

  Brody wondered if it had been a make-work project initiated by the SOBs at AFD who had not wanted Lt. Brody McAndrews to look too deeply into the other ongoing projects in that country and had subsequently killed him. Or so they believed.

  Despite all he was doing here, his mind never strayed from Sherra for long. He wondered how she was doing. If she had found anything helpful yet in her hacking on her computer. Whether Roy was already hanging out with her in that small room—with its bed in the center—as he should. A thought that Brody hated, but where else could he go and still keep her safe?

  His cell phone rang, and he pulled it from his pocket. Speak of the devil… “Yeah, Roy,” he said after pushing the button to answer.

  “Where is she?” Roy demanded with no preamble.

  Brody’s blood turned as icy as a midwinter Alaskan river. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m at the hotel you said, and I finally got someone to let me into the room with the number you gave me. It’s empty.”

  Damn the woman! Why couldn’t she keep her promises, especially those intended to keep her safe?

  “I’ll get back to you,” Brody spat through gritted teeth, then pushed the button for Sherra’s personal phone—the number he’d communicated with a couple of times while on the road and just after he had arrived here. All had been fine then.

  Of course he had no way of knowing where she was speaking from.

  “Oh, Brody,” her voice whispered a moment later. “I was going to call when I knew what to do. Right now…I’m afraid to say where I am in case someone is eavesdropping after all.”

  “What do you mean? Sherra, I told you to wait for Roy, that he would protect you. So what—”

  “That’s why I got out of there, Brody. When I started researching the unidentified numbers that Bobby had called, I discovered something I’m sure you didn’t know.”

  “What’s that?”

  “There was something really odd about one. There was no name attached to it but there was another phone number. Roy’s.”

  * * *

  The swearing that came from the other end of the phone line was no surprise to Sherra. Brody had always been reasonably good at maintaining his temper, but when he lost it, he never held back on making that known.

  “Where the hell are you now?” he finally demanded.

  She didn’t answer but was already several miles from the hotel. She had been careful, walking a short distance, then hailing a cab to carry her to one large tourist attraction. Then she caught a different cab to somewhere else.

  At the moment, she was in the visitors parking garage of the Walter Reed National Military Medical Center in Bethesda. So were a lot of other people, both coming and going. She felt invisible in the crowd—as long as she appeared to be heading toward, or away from, a nonexistent vehicle.

  “Here’s what I want you to do,” Brody was saying. “Don’t phone anyone else, but walk to the nearest coffee shop and have them call you a cab.” He must think she was still near the hotel. She wouldn’t disabuse him of that. Not yet. “Then—”

  “For someone who’s so cautious, and with good reason considering all we’ve been through, you talk too much. I’m not discussing over even a probably secure phone what I’m doing or where I’m going—not now. Not till I’ve figured it out myself. But I promise I’ll be in touch…Jim.” She quickly hung up.r />
  Did Roy know she had her own cell phone? What about anyone else the false Andrewses might have been in contact with? She’d used it only recently to call Brody but she maintained an account with a major company, so it wasn’t impossible for someone to find her number.

  That meant the possibility of their learning her location.

  Her options seemed few, but she had to do something.

  What about hiding in plain sight?

  She knew of a place with reasonable security. A place where she’d be welcomed. Maybe even protected, at least a little—although she didn’t want to endanger anyone there.

  But it would be just for today, until she figured something else out.

  Taking a deep breath in resignation and determination, she again pulled out her phone and pushed in a number.

  “Hi, Miles,” she said when her sweet coworker at CMHealthfoods answered. “It’s Sherra. Could I ask you a favor?”

  * * *

  Brody had taken an early lunch break at AFD.

  Now, walking down the busy D.C. avenue toward the nearest shopping center, Brody made the call he’d wanted to for the past half hour, ever since hearing from Roy, then Sherra.

  “It’s me, Michael,” he said to his commanding officer. “We’ve got a problem.”

  He filled Michael Cortez in on what had been happening—his leaving Sherra alone because Roy was supposed to come and take care of her, followed by the revelation Sherra made about Roy’s phone number indirectly within Bobby’s call list.

  “Damn.” Brody heard a noise that sounded as if Michael had driven his fist through something at his Pentagon office. “Do you know where Roy is? Sherra?”

  “Neither. I tried calling Roy again to tell him to stay at the hotel till I got there, but he didn’t answer. I’m afraid he’s out looking for Sherra. You assured me he’s one of ours, always reliable except for that one mistake.” Brody had come to trust the judgment of his C.O. before. But now, with Sherra’s safety in the balance… “Do you have ways of finding him?”

  “Sure do. Via his phone, for one thing. Other ways are too classified to tell even you. I’ll get a team on it and keep you informed.”

  Brody hung up. That was all well and good, but Sherra was in trouble again. This time, it was his fault—more directly than other occasions lately.

  And he didn’t know where she was.

  He called again and was glad when she answered. “Don’t give any specifics, but I need to know if you’re okay.”

  “I am—or at least I will be soon. Don’t worry about me, Jim. I’ll stay in touch. But please don’t call again.”

  She hung up, and Brody stood on the sidewalk arguing with her mentally since he couldn’t do it verbally.

  He was worried. Sherra had become his secret weapon in attempting to finally get all the information he needed. Or she would be if she were in a safe haven somewhere and able to work.

  If anyone knew that, she would be in even more danger.

  And that was far from the only reason he worried about her.

  He would call her again.

  First he needed a plan of action.

  * * *

  “So where have you been? Really, I mean.” Miles glanced at Sherra from the driver’s seat of his compact car. “With that guy Jim?” He shook his head. “I told you he was no good. Did he dump you?”

  “We dumped each other,” she said, annoyed at Miles’s attitude. “How are things at work? Does anyone miss me? Did you cover for me?”

  Her turn to put him on the defensive. Not that he owed her anything.

  “I think I did a great job. Everyone expected you back yesterday after the weekend, but I said I’d heard from you and you were still sick.”

  It was hard to believe that it was only Tuesday, and the last time Sherra had been at work was the previous Wednesday. “I appreciate it, Miles,” she said. “A lot.”

  They reached the CMHealthfoods building and Miles pulled into the parking lot. Despite her preference to wear business clothing to work, she was glad that the company dress code was relatively lax except when important meetings were scheduled. Otherwise, her gray slacks and black knit top would feel much too casual to be here.

  Even so, it took Sherra a little time to get into the building since she had to claim she’d lost her ID due to a theft, and she couldn’t even show her driver’s license. Not when the only one she had identified her as Sally Bradshaw.

  But she received a new company identification card relatively quickly, thanks to her photo and other info being in company computer files.

  She felt even more relieved when she reached her office and not only Phoebe, her secretary, fawned all over her, but even her boss, Vic, acted pleased to have her back.

  She only wished she truly was in a position to take her entire life back—without worrying about her safety. Or Brody’s. But she still had no idea even what she would do that evening.

  And she hadn’t a hope of trying to catch up with her real work that day. Not when her first priority had to be getting on the computer and extracting, once and for all, the information Brody needed to catch whoever at AFD and otherwise had set him up to be killed.

  Only when that was behind her—and no matter how sorry she would be when Brody was out of her life—could she truly be herself once more.

  She sat at her desk in her small office and logged onto her computer with the fake info she had put together previously, when she used her lunchtimes and after-work hours to dig into what might have happened to soldier Brody McAndrews.

  And then she got to work on hacking into the upper echelon emails at All For Defense.

  Chapter 18

  After all this time, Brody believed he knew how Sherra thought. Maybe.

  With so much of the puzzle of AFD, its government contacts and who knew what about him still unsolved, he hated to leave his post again but had no choice. Not with Sherra in danger once more.

  Her safety trumped everything. He had to find her.

  Brody grabbed tissues from a box on a shelf in his office and hurried to Crandall Forbes’s office. Knocking on the half-ajar door, he poked his head in and managed to sneeze onto a tissue—as always, not hard thanks to the smell of cigarette smoke.

  “Sorry, Crandall,” he said, glad he was close to perfecting his assumed nasal voice after all these episodes. “I’m having another relapse.” He coughed once more to add to the effect. “I need to go home and rest.”

  “Get over it this time,” his thin, homely boss grumbled, shooting him a sneer that made it clear that Jim/Brody’s days here would be numbered otherwise. “And get back here fast.”

  “I’ll try,” Brody whined, hating to act so wimpy but knowing he had no choice. And then he was gone.

  He believed Sherra would go somewhere familiar. He doubted she’d be foolish enough to head for her home after being attacked there, but she might pop in long enough to throw more clothes into another suitcase so she could deal with disappearing more comfortably. He went there first.

  She wasn’t around. There was no indication that she’d been home. He saw nothing out of place, and her closets and drawers still had clothes in them.

  As he left, he called the CMHealthfoods offices to see if she might be there. He was routed to Phoebe, Sherra’s secretary whom he’d met before when he visited.

  “Sherra?” Phoebe chirped. “I don’t think she’s here, but who’s calling, please?”

  “Jim Martin.” That was the ID he had used there before.

  “Just a moment.” He was put on hold, which riled him as he drove as fast as he dared on crowded roads toward the facility. But it probably wasn’t more than a minute before Phoebe returned. “Sorry, she’s not here. Would you like to leave a message?”

  “Just ask her
to call me.” That wouldn’t happen. The tone of Phoebe’s professionally firm but grandmotherly kind voice suggested she was doing as she’d been told and lying.

  Or maybe Brody just hoped that so since he had few ideas about where to find Sherra.

  When he hung up, he concentrated again on driving—more or less. His mind kept leaping into Sherra’s office and whether she would be there when he arrived, or whether she would already have fled. Again.

  * * *

  Sherra waited for a minute after Phoebe buzzed her, but apparently Brody had bought the idea that she wasn’t around. Good thing Phoebe asked no questions when told to tell anyone who inquired that Sherra wasn’t there.

  Now, Sherra felt soothed by the clicking rhythm of her typing as she sat at her desk staring at her high-resolution computer screen.

  She smiled, even as she reached roadblocks in her searches.

  They were challenges, and she loved challenges.

  Her job was fun because she searched the globe for CMHealthfoods’ competitors’ promotions and other information, but this was even better.

  There it was—the next roadblock that prevented her from sidling into the email system of the highest pooh-bahs in the AFD hierarchy. She studied it for a moment, then typed in her next avenue to circumvent security.

  At the same time, she used all the techie wizardry within her knowledge to hide not only that someone was penetrating parts of the system, but also, in the event that information was nevertheless figured out, disguising who it was.

  She kept her ears on alert as she remained in her office, door closed. She still had no idea what she was going to do, where she would go later.

  Her only idea was far from ideal, but for one night she could allow Miles to be her knight in shining armor, a position he seemed to crave. She could say she’d lost her credit cards which, in a way, was true—or at least her ability to use them freely. She could tell him there’d been some odd vermin within her condo complex, so she didn’t want to stay there that night. In a way, that, too, was true. The creep who had attacked her was certainly less appealing than the lowest rodent imaginable.