by Rachel Grant
“Good. You aren’t to repeat this to anyone or to discuss it in any public place where you might be overheard.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Agreed,” Undine said.
“According to intelligence sources, five months ago, a prototype Air/Underwater Unmanned Vehicle—AUUV—a drone that can seamlessly transform from flight to swim, which was in beta testing by Russian engineers was quote, lost, unquote, during a field test.”
Luke let out a snort of disbelief. “Right.”
“Exactly. Someone took it and headed for Hong Kong. The guy who’d nabbed the device was tracked. He disabled the tracking chip and continued south. GRU knows this because they managed to re-enable the tracker, and it pinged near Palau before tracking was destroyed. GRU—or someone—caught up with the man who stole the drone. He was tortured, but all he would say was he’d hidden it in the Rock Islands. One of the GRU guys was overzealous in his methods, and the guy slipped into a coma and died before he divulged the coordinates.
“Russians attempted a search, but given the Compact between Palau and the US…it got sticky. They disappeared, but periodically, Palauan patrol boats have caught unregistered boats in the islands. They only have eighteen marine officers to patrol over two hundred thousand square miles, and suddenly they’re seeing a rise in piracy and other nasty business. The Palauan government has been keeping it quiet because the Rock Islands are their primary tourist destination, and they’ve no idea why there’s been a sudden crime surge. No clue that there’s something important hidden in their territory. No one even knows if it’s on land or in the sea. Rumor has it the AUUV can last in salt water for up to six months.”
“Which means they’re running out of time to find it,” Luke said.
“Yes.”
“And you think Parker is looking for the AUUV,” Undine added.
“Yes.”
Mara let out a curse. “That’s why the Pentagon finally funded the survey? Why they pressured Ivy to finish CAM early? The Defense Intelligence Agency learned about the stolen technology and saw an opportunity.” She made a sound that was something like a low growl. “Those assholes sent Ivy there alone and didn’t even bother to warn her about what she was walking into?”
There was a short pause before Curt said, “That appears to be the case. It seems they felt that Ivy’s cover story of mapping Peleliu was foolproof—especially because it was the truth. She herself didn’t know. And the US military could get full Palauan government approval for the project, because the Republic of Palau has been asking for the survey for a long time.”
“Jesus. They could at least have sent her in with a team,” Undine said.
“I was told they figured that would only draw attention,” Curt said. “She was to work with locals—a local pilot for the aerial survey, and charter a boat and scuba partner for the underwater spot-checking of her mapping data.”
“Parker Reeves was more than qualified to be her boat captain and scuba partner,” Luke said.
“Yes,” Curt said. “We figure that might’ve been his original plan. Jack Keaton has a charter service. How long did you know Reeves?”
They’d covered this last fall, but reiterating the past could always spark a new, relevant, memory. “About a year. I’m based in Port Angeles but spend a fair amount of time in Neah Bay with a few of my ongoing research projects. Parker volunteered to help with a project early on; that’s when we first met.”
“You said in November you got the impression he wanted to leave the spy trade.”
“He said he wouldn’t go back to Russia right before he jumped from the Osprey. I had no reason to think he was lying.”
“Do you think he returned to GRU?”
Luke had always hoped Parker had made his escape. But he told Curt, “Maybe. I really don’t know.”
“Is it possible he’s working for Russia now?”
“Yes.”
“Wait,” Undine said. “If Parker is working for Russia, and he abducted Ivy to force her to use her technology to work for Russia, isn’t that…an act of war?”
Her question was met with silence. Finally, Curt said, “It’s on the continuum. We need to determine exactly who Reeves is working for. For now, the State Department is monitoring the situation. We’re doing everything we can to keep this from escalating.”
“And to protect Ivy,” Mara added.
“Yes. And protect Ivy.” Curt paused. “The GRU fed Reeves information about the sub last fall.” It was a statement—Luke and Curt had gone over all this in great detail months before—but he had a feeling he knew where Curt was going with this line of thought. Mara and Undine weren’t going to like it.
“Yes. He knew almost as much about the sub and what she carried as Yuri did.” Yuri was the man who’d set events in motion last fall that could have resulted in massive destruction in the Pacific Northwest—if not for Parker’s assistance that cold night in the Osprey.
“So if he’s working for Russia right now, he probably has a strong lead on where the missing drone is. Perhaps better than anyone else on the hunt.”
Mara gasped. “Curt Dominick, you can’t be thinking of using Ivy to—”
The sound cut off. Probably a mute button had been hit. The woman had just last-named her husband. That didn’t bode well.
Curt came back on the line. “Luke, I need your honest gut evaluation. Is Ivy MacLeod in danger from the man you knew as Parker Reeves?”
Undine grabbed Luke’s hand. He knew the answer she wanted him to give: the one that would get Ivy away from Parker. Away from Palau.
But that answer would be a lie.
He sighed and released Undine’s hand, fully expecting she’d last-name him before this conversation ended. “I gave Parker a chance to take me out on the Osprey,” he admitted.
Undine gasped.
He met her gaze. “I was never in real danger. I know not to take off a harness on the open ramp of a tilt-rotor aircraft. If he’d tried to push me, he’d have been the one to take flight. But the important thing is, Parker thought he had an opportunity to get rid of me while the airmen were busy hauling in the boat. At that point, I was the only person who knew he was working for the GRU. In his mind, one shove and he would’ve been able to return to Neah Bay, and no one would have known. But instead, he pulled me into the Osprey.”
“You let him go, didn’t you?” Curt asked. “You tested him, and he passed. So you let him go.”
Luke decided to exercise his right to remain silent. The man was the US attorney general, after all, and Luke was fairly certain handing Parker that parachute had broken several laws. He’d chosen not to read up on which ones, but he’d bet aiding and abetting were among the key verbs.
“Thank you for the information. It’s been invaluable,” Curt said.
“You’re welcome, sir.”
The line clicked dead. Undine stood, crossed her arms, and glared at him. “He’s going to order Ivy to work with Parker.”
He stood and wrapped his arms around her. “With good reason. If Ivy helps him find the AUUV, and a team of SEALs manages to rescue her, her technology, and the AUUV, we’d dodge escalation with Russia over the fact that their spy abducted her. This could easily turn into Cold War brinksmanship all over again.”
“And Ivy’s at the center of it.”
She was stiff against him, so he ran his hand up her back. “I had to tell the truth.” She relaxed into him by slow degrees. “Ivy’s in danger, from the men who attacked the party, and others searching for the AUUV. There’s no one better to have by her side. Did you read the news reports of what he did to the party crashers?”
“I hope you’re right,” she said as she pressed her face into his chest. “Because it sounds like Curt is planning to gamble with Ivy’s life.”
Chapter Eleven
The problem with being at sea in the open ocean was the roar of the engine would cover the sound of Dimitri sneaking up on Ivy, should he decide to put the boat in crui
se control and step away from the bridge.
No good captain would leave the helm while a boat was underway, but she had no way of knowing if Dimitri Veselov was a good captain or not.
She had no choice. This could well be her only opportunity to have unfettered communication with Mara. She settled on Dimitri’s bed, facing the stateroom door with her cell phone in her hands. He hadn’t confiscated her cell—why bother when there were no cell towers for at least fifty nautical miles?
Her satellite uplink had safeguards to prevent cell phones from connecting to the signal, but Ivy knew the hack for that. Linking an unsecure phone to the military’s ultra-encoded system would get her fired, but committing treason would send her to prison.
Sometimes in life, you have to make hard choices, but this wasn’t one of them.
In less than ten minutes, she was in. Her cell phone was live. She sent a text to Mara, as that would be least likely to be detected and trigger a shutdown of her hacked link.
Did you get the photo?
A reply came a minute later.
Curt here. Photo received. Do you know who he is?
She didn’t know why she hesitated for a moment before responding. She owed Dimitri no loyalty. He was a good lay. Nothing more.
Ivy: Yes. Dimitri Veselov, Russian. Says he’s former GRU.
Curt: Has he hurt you?
Ivy: Nothing but my pride. Didn’t suspect. Feel like a fool.
Curt: You aren’t the first to be fooled by him.
Ivy: You know of him?
Curt: I knew him under another name. Will pass Veselov identity to CIA and DIA. Has he told you what he wants?
Ivy: He’s looking for something in the Rock Islands.
Curt: Confirmed. Has he told you who he’s working for?
Ivy: No. He said he’s freelancing now. Wouldn’t name his employer. He’s forcing me to help him. Said he’d drop CAM in the sea and abandon me on an island if I don’t cooperate.
There was a long break between messages. Was Curt disappointed in her for not fighting back? Should she have chosen that fate and hoped she’d be found? Should she feel bad for cooperating? For not wanting to see the first CAM prototype destroyed?
Finally, her phone chimed again.
Curt: Do you believe you’re in physical danger? Beyond his threat to leave you stranded?
She paused and considered the question for a long moment. Curt needed an honest assessment of her situation.
Ivy: I don’t think he would hurt me.
Two minutes passed before she received a response.
Curt: I want you to help him find what he’s looking for.
She stared at her phone in shock. It took her a full minute to come up with a reply.
Ivy: This is a direct order from US Attorney General Curt Dominick? You want me to cooperate with a Russian spy? To give Dimitri Veselov access to CAM and the database?
Would this communication stand up in court? She doubted it. Especially because she’d have to delete it from her phone the moment they were done. But still.
Curt: Yes, yes. And yes. Don’t endanger yourself. Your safety comes first. But yes, we want you to cooperate. Confirmed with the Pentagon and DIA. State Department is monitoring your situation.
She couldn’t believe this wouldn’t somehow bite her in the ass when this was all over. She decided to come clean now, because it would only get uglier later.
Ivy: For the record, I had sex with him. Last night. Before I knew who and what he was.
Another pause in the conversation. She hoped to hell it was because the satellite signal was interrupted, not because he was planning to file a federal case against her.
Curt: Did you in any way compromise CAM and the security surrounding the system because you had sexual relations?
Ivy: No.
Curt: I can’t promise it won’t be a problem. But Ivy, you’re human. You’d been through an ordeal. He’d helped you and offered refuge. I ran a preliminary background check when you gave Mara the name Jack Keaton last night. He checked out. These factors will be taken into consideration. You might lose your security clearance, but I doubt you’d face charges.
She swiped at the tear that rolled down her cheek before it could land on her phone. Was she really going to survive this? She might not face legal consequences, but the press was a different matter. They would flay her. Again.
Ivy: Are you saying this as attorney general or as a friend?
It was presumptuous to call him a friend. She didn’t know him well, but he was in her cousin’s inner circle and they’d met socially several times over the years, long before she began working for his wife. And right now, she wanted to believe Curt saw her as something other than a pawn.
Curt: Both.
Ivy: I should go. Dimitri could come looking for me.
Curt: Protect yourself first and at all costs. Text again when it’s safe.
Ivy: Will do.
She cleared the message history and unlinked the phone from the satellite feed, then tucked it back into her purse. Task completed, she returned to the head of the bed and pulled her knees to her chest. Part of her wanted to sob—and she didn’t know if it was from relief or fear. She’d been given orders to cooperate with Dimitri by no less than the man who was seventh in line for the presidency.
Dimitri had presented himself as a reluctant spy, and she wanted to believe him. She even felt sorry for him but didn’t know if her feelings were influenced by the fact that she’d slept with him.
She didn’t have to fight Dimitri—not unless he threatened her. She couldn’t be obvious in her reversal. It had to happen slowly, or he’d wonder at her sudden about-face.
His claims he wouldn’t hurt her had been convincing. And then there was his erection when she straddled him on the deck. She had pathetic little power here, but she’d use every tool in her arsenal, including her body if she had to. But that interrogation method had backfired, and she’d been shamefully aroused when she had him pinned. There had to be a way she could use his attraction to her without risking herself.
She glanced at the ladder to the front deck, and an idea took form. While they were underway, he expected her to assemble the drone for this afternoon’s survey. She hadn’t responded to his command because she wanted to try to contact Mara.
Now it was time to show some rebellion.
Dimitri nearly swallowed his tongue when Ivy emerged through the front hatch onto the sunbathing deck above the galley and dropped the beach towel that covered the tiniest of bikinis.
Tall with lush curves, she had a beautiful body he could stare at all day. And given that she set her towel on the padded bench directly in his line of sight, it appeared she was inviting him to enjoy the view for a while.
He smiled. This battle of wills with Ivy was going to be fun.
The sunbathing deck was a rectangular inset in the foredeck, tucked down to provide protection from the wind, should a group wish to relax in the sun while the boat was underway. A low, tilted windscreen ensured the inset didn’t mar the sleek lines and therefore slow down the high-speed yacht.
The well boasted four benches and a low wet bar, but the noise and wind would be too much for conversation, so there were four noise-cancelling headsets that connected to each other and the bridge.
Ivy might think she’d escaped talking to him by choosing the foredeck, but no such luck on her part. He donned a pair of headphones and flipped the switch for the intercom system, triggering a green light on the bar to flash. She paused in mixing her drink and stared at the light, then looked up toward the bridge.
Between the tinted windshield and the glare of the sun, she wouldn’t be able to see him. She was probably just realizing her mistake. He chuckled when she flipped him off. Maybe it was weird, but her spirit turned him on, plain and simple.
As did her brain and body.
There was a speaker, but it had to be irritatingly loud to be heard over the whirr of the engine and rush of wind. He tu
rned the volume to maximum and said, “Put on the headphones, Ivy. Or I’ll play K-pop over the speakers.”
When she didn’t immediately comply, he pulled up the K-pop playlist on his iPod and hit Play. He’d done the same thing to charter clients when they were dickheads and ignored him and every rule of boat safety. He might be using the charter boat captain thing as a cover, but he was once a lieutenant in the US Coast Guard, and he’d been damn good at it. He took boating safety seriously.
Ivy’s chin jutted out as she glared up at him, but she put on the headphones, then grabbed a bottle of vodka from the bar. “What do you want?”
He turned off the music. “There’s passion fruit juice in the galley. It goes well with the peach vodka.”
“That’s why you wanted me to put on headphones? Bartending instructions?”
“No. I wanted to tell you that you are rocking the bikini.”
She tugged at the tie around her neck. Her breasts were full, the weight straining against the scant triangles that tried to contain them. There was a softness in her body that twenty-somethings didn’t have. A maturity he found irresistible.
