Chopped

by Alison Golden

  “What?” Peter exclaimed. He pulled the car over sharply and turned to her. “What are you saying? How do you still work for TFI? I thought you were a magazine editor!”

  Diana rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I am a magazine editor… most of the time. I just sort of do work…” She trailed off. She was reaching. “For TFI… now and again… like VPD. When they need me, they call and I go.”

  Peter was staring straight ahead.

  “I haven’t worked full time for them for two years, Peter. And I haven’t heard from them at all in the time I’ve been working with you.” She finished in a rush. She felt like a kid who’d been caught stealing candy. Ashamed, but desperately trying to justify her actions.

  Peter tipped his head back against his headrest and closed his eyes. “You’ve been lying to me all this time.” He looked away out of the window, his elbow on the ledge. He banged his curled fist against his mouth.

  Her face hardened. “Don’t. Don’t you dare! You know exactly what it’s like. I’m bound by so many rules and regulations that I could end up in jail just for telling you. Do you think I like hiding these things?”

  He sighed and turned to look at her again. “I don’t know Diana. Do you? You seem to find it awfully easy to lie to everyone.”

  Diana’s heart constricted in pain. Of all people, she expected Peter to understand. The loneliness she constantly braced herself against threatened to overwhelm her.

  “Forget it,” she said. “Let’s get to CSIS. Ethan’s waiting.”

  “So it’s Ethan is it? You two sound awfully close,” he snarled, putting the car in gear. He tore away from the curb.

  “We are close,” she snapped back. “We’ve been in some tough situations together. And watch your driving, I’d like to get there in one piece.”

  “Not driving like a little old lady now, am I?”

  “Now you’re being childish.”

  Peter ignored her. She was right, but he couldn’t help himself. “I assume Ethan doesn’t have a problem with you lying to everyone. Oh, but you don’t have to lie to him, do you? He knows exactly who you are and what you do. The rest of us have to guess.”

  “You know what? I never lied to you. I never said that I’m only a magazine editor or that I don’t work for TFI?”

  “A lie by omission is still a lie,” he ground out.

  “Really, Peter? So, when you worked for SpecOps, did you tell all your friends on the outside exactly what you did?”

  Peter didn’t reply. Not another word was spoken until they arrived at the unmarked CSIS building in center of Vancouver.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  PETER SWOOPED INTO a parking space under the CSIS building way too fast and turned the engine off. He wasn’t angry with Diana for keeping TFI classified. He well understood why she couldn’t tell him, it was standard protocol for all agents employed on covert ops. He was angry that she had this whole other life that involved TFI and Lennox and she’d kept him out of it.

  And maybe he was a little jealous, too. Several years ago, Peter had been offered a position with the task force but had declined it. Bad timing. His brother had just been murdered and the drive to investigate his death had overwhelmed his other ambitions. Working with VPD was the best option open to someone with his skills and experience while still allowing him to work on what he called his “side project,” but it had been a big step down for him. He cheerlessly wondered if he’d have met Diana earlier if things had broken another way.

  He remembered Ethan Lennox well. A decade older than Peter, Lennox was a great guy, a true American hero. He was a natural leader, the type who’d throw himself on a grenade to protect his men. He was one of the most decorated serving officers in the US military and charming to a fault. He oozed charisma, in fact. Diana was obviously close to him and had kept all their secrets. It made him irrationally angry with her.

  He knew he should apologize for being an ass, but he couldn’t. Not yet. An emotion he refused to acknowledge was choking him. Why was everything such a roller coaster with her? He pressed his lips together in a thin line and kept his mouth shut. He knew if he opened it, he’d end up hurling even more unpleasant accusations around, and he didn’t want to ruin his relationship with Diana completely.

  He took a deep breath. He needed to get control of himself. Anger aside, this news made sense. The idea that she’d gone into the private sector after CSIS and no longer used her skills had seemed out of character to him all along. Her desire to right wrongs seemed deeply embedded in her psyche.

  “I’m sorry,” he said with a sigh.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Diana said softly. She looked out the window. He’d hurt her. He could hear it in her voice. But what could he say? I’m sorry. I’m not angry with you. I’m angry with me for being an idiot and not being able to respond differently.

  “It does matter,” he said. “I had no right to get angry. You’re right, I do know what it’s like, and I understand why you couldn’t tell me. I’m sorry. I just thought we were close enough for you to be able to tell me,” he continued.

  “It’s okay,” she said. She hesitated for a moment. “I was going to tell you,” she continued softly.

  He flicked a look at her.

  She sighed. “I applied for you to be vetted by CSIS and by all the other agencies involved in TFI so that I could, you know, tell you. It’s been a long and arduous process, because there are so many agencies involved. I submitted your file four months ago, and I received approval last week, but I just hadn’t had time to tell you…” she trailed off.

  Shoot. He felt like a complete jerk. He knew all about the vetting process. The agencies would have run multiple background checks to determine whether he were a threat or not. And when they checked, they checked everything, including what diapers he’d worn as a baby and the books he’d read in middle school. They would have undoubtedly known about his brother’s death. None of this would have been shared with Diana.

  “I’m sorry, I’m an idiot. I just, oh, I don’t know, I appreciate you putting me through the vetting process. Thank you,” he said. He smiled apologetically.

  “It’s okay. I get it. I’d probably be angry too if you had a secret life I didn’t know about.”

  He glanced at her quickly. “What you see is what you get with me. I promise.” Liar, a voice whispered inside his head. He cringed. As soon as this case was over he’d tell her about his brother. He’d tell her everything.

  Diana and Peter sat in a conference room. It looked pretty much the same as the one at VPD.

  Getting from the lobby had taken time. Despite it being late at night, once they’d arrived and gone through five different levels of security checks, those staffers working late or on the night shift kept stopping Diana to speak to her as they traversed the hallways. Some of them obviously knew her, but others appeared to simply want to meet her.

  “You’ve become kind of famous around here in your absence,” Kieran had said with a grin when they’d finally reached the fourth floor. He turned to Peter, “Some of Diana’s ops have been used as case studies in training exercises for CSIS operatives. They’re all eager to meet the woman who has become something of a legend.”

  Diana rolled her eyes. “I have no idea why. It’s not like I did anything they couldn’t do.”

  Kieran snorted. “Sometimes, your modesty is irritating. You were damned good – one of the best – and you know it.”

  Diana shrugged. “Perhaps I was,” she said with a small smile.

  “Here we are.” Kieran showed them into the conference room. “You need to wait for a moment. Amanda and Clive are coming too,” he explained as he made his way to the door.

  “You’re not staying?” Diana asked.

  “Don’t have clearance. See you later,” he replied, ruefully. He glanced at Peter.

  Diana wondered once again about Peter’s background.

  “Amanda Stone is the Deputy Director of Operations, and Clive Inglewood is the A
ssistant Director of Intelligence,” Diana explained to Peter.

  “I see,” Peter replied. “I’ll be careful what I say.”

  Peter knew well enough that the politics within an organization like CSIS were always rife. When multiple agencies were involved, the political interference could multiply exponentially. Unchecked, it could impede the progress and success of individual missions and endanger operatives on the ground.

  The door to the conference room opened.

  “CSIS has learned the hard way to never discount Diana Hunter,” a woman said as she walked into the room. She smiled warmly at Diana. Amanda Stone. The man Peter assumed to be Clive Inglewood brought up the rear, closing the door behind him.

  Ms. Stone was in her mid forties, a homely woman with a stocky build and a bowl-shaped haircut. She wore a boxy teal suit like a uniform and paired it with unadorned brown shoes that Peter suspected she wore with everything. While her look was rather plain, she was composed, confident, and authoritative. There was no doubting that she was in charge.

  In contrast, the man next to her seemed an insignificant presence. The difference in their relative positions was obvious. Inglewood was a small man and not at all polished. His suit was too big. It made him look even smaller. His thinning, fair hair needed a brush, and he walked quickly and nervously to keep up with his striding, assertive superior as though by being in close proximity, he could absorb some of her gravitas. Peter wondered how such a person could have ascended to the position of ADI.

  “How are you, Diana?” Amanda asked, giving her a hug. “It’s good to see you, my dear.”

  “You too, Amanda.”

  Diana made the introductions, and they settled down to talk.

  “We’ve spoken to the CIA, and this connection will go through them. MI6 will also be on the call. Lennox insisted,” Amanda Stone said glancing at Diana and Peter in turn.

  Inglewood typed something into the table. Peter realized it was a smart desk, with an inbuilt computer. So not so much like VPD after all.

  The screen on the back wall lit up, and Ethan Lennox appeared. Up in the corner, two smaller screens came to life. Two men sat in one and a man and woman in the other. CIA and MI6, presumably.

  “Good morning, everyone,” Amanda started. While it was late at night in Canada, for everyone else it was the next day. “So, Major Lennox, we are all here – Prentice and Michaelson in Washington, Norris and Hirst in London. Here in Vancouver, I’m joined by Diana Hunter as you requested, along with Hopkinson from VPD and Inglewood and myself from CSIS.”

  “Thanks everyone for coming. Hey, Diana,” the Major said with a smile.

  “Hi, Ethan. It’s good to see you,” Diana replied warmly.

  “Sorry to drag you all away from your important work, but I have something that can’t wait,” Lennox said. “We need to get straight to business.”

  “Okay, fire away” Amanda directed.

  “Our agents in the Middle East have recovered some documents, and I don’t like what I’m seeing. It looks like a new group calling themselves the Islamic Front has formed. Anyone heard of them?“

  The faces in the two screens at the end of the room indicated they hadn’t.

  “We’ve run across them just recently.” Amanda said.

  “What do you know about them?” Lennox asked.

  “We think they were behind a planned assassination attempt on one of our senators. The hit was eliminated before it was carried out but our intel is that this group is out there, active, and bankrolled by someone with significant funds.

  “That lines up with what we’ve uncovered. They appear to have the perfect trifecta: backers, brains and, well, balls. We are concerned they are planning some kind of attack.”

  “There’s always some extremist group planning to attack us,” one of the men in Washington interjected.

  “Yes, I know that,” Lennox retorted sharply. While TFI was made up of people from CSIS, MI6, and the CIA, it wasn’t subordinate to any of them. It had a large amount of autonomy and reported directly to the Chiefs of State, the British Prime Minister, the Canadian Prime Minister, and the US President. As head of the agency, Ethan Lennox was extremely powerful.

  “The amount of money this group has at their disposal concerns me. It is highly unusual and elevates the risk substantially,” he continued.

  “Do you have any idea who is funding them?” the woman from MI6 asked.

  “We have our suspicions, but I don’t want to say anymore. That’s why I wanted Diana here.”

  “While this is indeed a worrying situation, I’m not certain I understand why Diana Hunter is so essential to you,” Inglewood said curtly. Peter gave Diana a questioning look.

  Later, she mouthed. He turned his attention back to Lennox.

  “We have a mark, someone close to the group who we think is vulnerable. Diana, I need you to come out here. We’re running an op, and I need your help on the ground for this one.” Lennox responded.

  “Diana no longer works with CSIS. We have active agents that can assist on the ground,” Inglewood said quickly.

  Lennox’ expression hardened. “Diana, everything’s organized. A plane will pick you up from Canadian Forces Base Comox at 1400 hours the day after tomorrow.”

  “Okay. I’ll be bringing someone with me,” Diana said, looking over at Peter and raising her eyebrows. He dipped his head.

  “We’re expecting you, Hopkinson. It’ll be good to work with you again.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  ALL EYES TURNED to Peter, appraising him. Diana looked at him shrewdly.

  “Likewise, Lennox.”

  Clive Inglewood looked staggered. His mouth opened and closed, not a sound coming out.

  “This is highly irregular,” he finally choked out. “Two civilians cannot be involved in such an operation.”

  “Clive,” Amanda snapped warningly. “You’re overstepping.”

  “Mr. Inglewood,” Lennox said, his tone frigid, “this is not a CSIS operation. This is a mission for Task Force Indigo. CSIS has absolutely no business telling me how to allocate my resources.”

  “What? Your resources?” Inglewood asked, his face pinched and pale.

  “Clive, shut up or leave,” Amanda ground out through gritted teeth. She turned to Lennox, “That’s fine by us, Major Lennox. As Clive said, Diana is not employed by CSIS any longer. We don’t,” she looked hard at Inglewood, “need to give our permission.”

  “It’s okay, Amanda. Mr. Inglewood, I should probably tell you that Diana works for TFI. This is something you wouldn’t have known had it been up to me, but the urgency of the situation forces my hand.”

  Amanda and Inglewood glanced at Diana. A small smile glanced off Amanda’s lips. “Very well,” Inglewood snapped. “But this is highly irregular. The Director of Intelligence will hear about it.”

  “Thank Richard for referring Diana to me in the first place, would you?” he said. Clive blanched. Peter stifled a grin. Lennox always had had a talent for putting people in their place. Like Diana, he didn’t suffer fools.

  “Now that we’ve sorted out the particulars, can we get back to that part about powerful people helping this group?” Peter asked. “What exactly did you mean?”

  Lennox shook his head. “I’d rather we discuss that in person,” he said with a pointed look at Diana. She nodded.

  “Where exactly are we going?” Diana asked.

  “Kandahar. All the arrangements have been made. We’ll talk more when you arrive. Does anyone have any questions?”

  “Will you be sharing intelligence as you receive it?” one of the men in Washington asked.

  “Most likely. But we will evaluate it first and classify it accordingly before sharing via the normal channels.”

  “So you aren’t guaranteeing that you will share the intel with our government?”

  “No, Michaelson, I am not. I never do. As you well know.”

  “Well, I’d like to represent most forcefully the view o
f our government—“

  “Sorry, Michaelson, that’s how it is. Always has been. Now, that’s all for today, people. Fly safe, Diana, Hopkinson. I will see you in a couple of days.”

  “See you there, Ethan,” Diana responded.

  Lennox cut the connection. The faces in London and Washington disappeared from their screens.

  Amanda Stone got to her feet, cueing the others in the room to do the same. “I want to be kept apprised of everything as it happens. Diana, that means directly from you, okay?” Amanda said.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Diana snapped, but she was smiling.

  Diana and Amanda had always gotten along. The older woman had helped Diana assimilate into CSIS. She’d recognized her talent and had invariably supported her throughout her time with the agency, despite Diana’s relative youth. Amanda had recommended Diana for promotion and supported her when things got tricky as they invariably did thanks to Diana’s habit for bending the rules. Between them, there was a sense of sisterhood and solidarity as they traveled the murky world of government secrets and clandestine activities, a world dominated by men.

  “Clive, you and I need to have a talk,” Amanda said.

  Inglewood didn’t move. “Now, Clive. Good luck, Diana, Hopkinson. We’ll speak soon,” Amanda said. The woman strode out of the room with a snapped, “Come, Clive.” The man scurried after her.

  Diana and Peter followed, although much more slowly. Kieran was waiting for them outside.

  “I see Clive hasn’t changed,” Diana said.

  Kieran snorted. “You expected him to?”

  She shrugged. “I guess I hoped that after three years, he’d have softened a bit. At least in his view of me.”

  Kieran rolled his eyes. “Diana, you know he’s always had it in for you. Didn’t help that he only got that promotion because you turned it down. Or that you were offered it at an age when you were fifteen years younger than he is now.”

  “And there was that incident in Bali,” Diana said thoughtfully.

  Kieran snorted again. “Bali, Mumbai, Islamabad, Cairo, and on.”