“But aren’t you drawing more attention to what we are doing? How is this helpful?” Serena raised her voice to be heard over the vacuuming din coming from the housekeeping service in the room next door, and sharing the wall that the desk was bolted to.
Estep, with his deep baritone, did not need to raise his voice, but he did anyway. “Because the President has no idea that you are already working with us, she is protected from whatever happens.”
“She’s going to want to find me. I don’t see how this is helpful. Am I not getting something?”
“She has assigned our team to an operation to recover you, and that is all she knows. We’ll keep her briefed enough to occupy her, and anything you are doing meanwhile won’t touch her.”
“You do realize that I’m not an insider to anything, right? I solve mysteries, mainly over the computer. That’s all I can offer. I still don’t get all of this secrecy and drama.”
“It’s better that she think we’re looking for you than for her to be briefed on what you are doing, which is what she would be ordering us to do if she knew you were working on this. If her office is compromised, and we are working on that assumption, we need to protect the President from even herself. We vetted you out, and you held up, but we can’t do that with all certainty for everyone else that the President might think she can trust. So, if she doesn’t know anything, she can’t talk about it.” This was the most Estep had said at one time, and he said it without seeming to breathe.
“I see. Smart plan. Did you come up with it?” Serena’s antennae were raised. Who had the authority to make decisions in the name of security that went over Ann’s head and without her knowledge?
“No it wasn’t me. I don’t go that far up the ladder, only a few rungs up from Butler.” Estep grinned, enjoying his Butler joke beyond its expiration date. Seeing no reaction from Serena, he quickly switched gears, erasing his smirk and resuming the blank-faced expression of a solid Secret Service Agent. “I can’t tell you who is in charge, you’ll have to trust the process. I already spent way more time explaining why you are here than I expected to. From now on, ask fewer questions. Once we get you set up, you’ll have to work fast. We can’t stall her for more than a couple of days.”
“What happens if I can’t figure this out before then?”
“Operation Coffee will need a resolution. We’ll tell her we’ve found you, and go from there.”
“Operation Coffee? That’s what she’s calling my rescue?”
“Yes.”
“I like it.” Serena smiled, basking in the glow of having an operation dedicated to her. “How did all of this start? Don’t leave anything out.”
Estep’s only response was to scowl at Serena. His handsome face was instantly transformed into that of an intimidating, flint-eyed thug – a side of him that his sisters and mother had never seen. He unfolded himself from the chair he had occupied for only a few minutes. “We have to move you.”
“Already?” Serena looked around the room, startled at the sudden turn of events. “You don’t think we are safe enough here?”
“My alert sounded.” Estep pointed to his ear, where a microchip was hidden, communicating with him at all times.
Serena grabbed her purse and hurried out the door. Estep was quickly met by a team of equally athletic and capable agents that swallowed the petite detective so completely that she was invisible from outside of the swarm. It was with this entourage that she walked from one room to another, shuffling along at a steady but manic pace.
Once inside the room, Estep took up position in an identical chair to the one he’d been in just moments earlier. “We are secure now. Let’s proceed.”
“What? We only moved up a floor. How is that more secure?”
“We won’t be staying in the same place for more than thirty minutes at a time. Keeping you moving is a precaution.”
“How can I get anything done if I’m moving around all the time?”
“Only until we get you to the computer lab. You’ll stay there as long as it takes.”
“Is that why you brought me back to Minnesota? Are we talking about the same lab where I saw the boy in the photo? I remember his name is Nicholas.”
“Yes, same lab. Nicholas will be there when you arrive.”
“I didn’t realize the lab was still in use. I guess I assumed it would be shut down.”
“No, it was claimed by the agency.”
“Which agency?”
Estep raised his eyebrows.
“Asking too many questions?”
Estep growled.
“I’d like to talk to my family. When would that be possible?”
Estep stared back at her, his face void of all expression. Several seconds passed. Serena studied the framed art on the wall – same bland factory prints as in the previous room, same color scheme, slightly different subject matter. The paintings struck her as funny, and she looked away before she started laughing for no reason. She was feeling the weight of the jet lag, and fatigue from everything else too. She wondered when the agents would leave her alone so that she could sleep, if she could sleep.
“I’m here of my own free will, I don’t see why I should be denied talking to my family and making sure that they are okay.”
Estep’s expression remained unchanged. His eyes didn’t even seem to blink.
“I am here of my own free will, right?”
“Define ‘free will’”, said Estep.
Buy COVERT COFFEE, book two of the Serena Wilcox Mysteries Dystopian Thriller Trilogy
View the trailer for BLUEBIRD FLOWN, book three of the Serena Wilcox Mysteries Dystopian Thriller Trilogy
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Natalie Buske Thomas is a prolific author, public speaker and entertainer.
Natalie is also an artist. She is best known for her oil painting Savannah Reading in the Butterfly Garden.
Natalie is part Irish and enjoys that culture. She resides with her husband and three children near the Twin Cities.
Follow Natalie on Facebook, Twitter or Pinterest www.nataliebuskethomas.com
Play the Serena Wilcox Mysteries Choose Your Own Mystery Game free online
Author Note:
Thank you for reading my Serena Wilcox Mystery Angels Mark. As the series changes and grows, and I change and grow, I invite you to share the journey with me on your favorite social media and through my website. I appreciate your support. Without readers like you my stories would stay on my home computer collecting dust.
Angels Mark (The Serena Wilcox Mysteries Dystopian Thriller Trilogy) Page 19
