I sawed my hand back and forth in the little amount of travel available. Gritting my teeth, I breathed slowly to keep from making any sound; the crystals continually scraped across the underside of my left wrist with each movement, and I was pretty sure I was bleeding. Ignoring the pain, I concentrated on the rope and sawed more vigorously at it. Strand by strand it slowly fell apart from around my wrist.
Philip finally stirred, coming awake in a chair beside me. They must have tranqued him, too, and tied him down, taking no chances.
“Tessa, what are you doing?” he whispered.
“I’m cutting myself free, just keep quiet until I can figure out what to do next.”
“Tessa I am so sorry I dragged you into this. I was just so desperate. I didn’t mean to get anyone else hurt.”
“I’m not hurt. Just a bit confused, I guess.”
“I need this money for my daughter, she’s real sick and needs specialized treatments. Without it, she won’t last longer than a few months. I just can’t lose her.” Phil’s voice choked up with emotion, and he struggled to fight back sobs. “I failed her, Tessa. I failed her.”
“Was there no other way to help her?” Phil’s confession stopped my movements, and I forced myself to work at the rope once more.
“Not that I could figure out quickly. Sarah’s been in the hospital for months, the bills piling up. I’ve gone bankrupt paying just enough to keep her there under proper care. I need to pay the rest of those bills, and I need the money to hire the team of specialists for the surgery that could save her life. She has a tumor on her spinal cord. Thankfully, it’s not cancerous, but it’s slowly eroding her ability to walk. She hasn’t been able to play like the kid she is; she’s almost entirely bedridden now. And she’s been there all alone, with no one else to help.” Phil’s voice ended in a whisper.
“I am so sorry, Phil. No child should have to endure something like that.” I was glad my instinct Phil wasn’t a bad guy had panned out. Of course, my gut was usually right. “Is there no one else to help?”
“No. Sarah’s mother died when she was two, and my wife had been the only child of an elderly couple who had passed on years before her,” Phil choked out. “I had to think big. So I targeted what I thought was a small time criminal. I had no idea it was going to go so wrong. I didn’t even have arms to sell this guy. I was just desparate enough to think I could persuade him to front me the cash.”
“Cavalierri may have been small-time when you heard about him, but he’s far from it now. He’s sadistic, and he kills for sport. I don’t know why we are still alive, honestly. He must have had bigger fish to fry. Or he thinks we have more money somewhere.” I continued to saw at the rope. Just a few more strands...
“How… how do you know that? Have you… done business with him before?”
Hearing the note of disgust in his voice pained me. I didn’t want to let him believe that I was some corrupt businesswoman or that I had ever hired Cavalierri for any personal reason. I wanted to help him and his daughter, after I got us out of here, and needed him to trust me. The truth, then.
“Phil, I need to be honest with you.” The necklace I had on acted as a tracking device and voice recorder, and if I were lucky, Vaneesa would be the only one listening right now since she had given it to me in secret. And maybe already on her way here. “I need you to listen very carefully.”
“Wait, your accent… It just changed. What is going on?” he hissed.
“You may have dragged me into this, but I am exactly what you need to get out of this alive. Henderly, it’s just a cover. My name is Latesse Colt, and I’m a secret agent for the CIA.”
“You’re a spy?” his voiced raised and echoed across the empty space.
In the silence that followed his outburst, I heard what was possibly the scuff of a shoe on concrete. I sawed just a tiny bit harder, and the rope finally came free.
“Shh! Yes, and I have been in communication with my team up until we were grabbed from the street. They will be looking for me, and they are good. They’ll find us, and we will get out of this.” I rubbed my chafed wrist, hardly noticing the blood flowing down my arm.
“And then I’m going to prison. Either way, I still failed.” Phil’s head slumped in defeat.
“No, you didn’t. Tell me where your daughter is staying. The money is still in this warehouse, northeast corner, hidden behind a stack of I-beams and under some fishing nets.”
I hoped Vaneesa was the only one listening right now. As Phil rattled off the name and location of the hospital, who her primary doctor was, her favorite flowers and the name of her teddy bear, I leaned in close to him so the comms unit in the necklace would catch everything while I untied his wrists.
He fell silent as I finished and I couldn’t believe I was thinking of doing this. It went against everything I believed in, against every professional principle I ever held onto. But there was nothing I could do about Phil’s going to prison. So someone had to help his daughter. Someone had to help Sarah. If the CIA found out about her, they would take her from the specialist hospital and put her in an orphanage. Sure, it would be a nice one, but the poor girl would never get the treatment her father had risked everything for.
Even though I could get in serious trouble, could possibly go to prison myself, I couldn’t leave that little girl helpless and facing death in a hospital all by herself. And no way would I send her to an orphanage. Vaneesa would help. I knew she would. She’s passionate, and this is just something she would truly believe in doing.
Time to let professionalism go. Time to do what was right.
Leaving Phil to untie his ankles, I stumbled my way over to the suitcase, keeping an ear out for the sound I thought I had heard earlier. My vision was dimming, and there was a pressure in my head that made me dizzy. Shaking my head to clear it, I almost didn’t see the man jump out of the shadows behind the beams and leap straight for me.
The thug reached for my arm to grab me in a clumsy move. Evidently they still didn’t know who I was. My focus shrank in on the guy, and I slapped one hand to my thigh in search of a knife, while pushing him away with the other. The knife was still in its sheath under the cloth. As he stumbled backward I tore the slit of my dress then dipped into a fighting crouch, the blades now in my hands and at my sides where he couldn’t see them. The knives were black and hid well against my dress.
“Hey, bitch!” the man growled. “I ain’t ‘fraid to hurt you.”
“I am a bitch. And you can try to hurt me.” Suddenly I was itching for this fight; the need to relieve my aggressions and frustrations was intoxicating.
The man lunged for me, and I slipped aside while he lumbered by, slitting up his side with my right knife. He screeched and spun around. I turned to face him, too quickly, the dizziness intensified and I stumbled a little. From the darkness in front of me he grunted. He was close. I listened to him wheeze, and tried to judge the distance. Phil’s shouting in the background was only a small noise compared to the thug’s heavy breathing.
Mr. Thug struck at my head, and I dodged to the side at the last second, warned by the rush of air past his fist as it shot towards me. As his fist sailed past, I leaned into him, sinking one of my blades hilt-deep into the meat of his trapezius muscle. Jerking the blade free, I ducked under a wild swing from his other arm. In one quick but deadly slash, I drew my blade across his thighs, then swept his feet out from under him. He toppled to the ground squealing like a pig as Phil finally got untied and ran over to me. Phil handed me his ropes, and I hogtied the thug and left him on his belly.
The CIA’s infiltration team snuck in slowly only a few seconds later. Bright beams of light shone over us, blinding after being used to the dark. I had seen them do this dozens of times so I wasn’t surprised by their quiet entry. The team moved around the room as they secured the exits.
“Don’t worry,” I mumbled to Phil. “They are the good guys.”
Suddenly, I broke out in a cold sweat, my stomach t
urning over and threatening to spill. My relief at the Infil teams entrance was short lived, and I fought to stay upright.
“Tessa, are you okay? Your words are slurred. Tess?” Phil’s whispered words faded away into the background, and I could no longer see the beams from the flashlights. I had the brief thought that the cuts to my wrist must be pretty bad; I had shut it out just like I had been trained to do.
My eyes closed and Phil caught me just before I hit the ground. Then I heard Vaneesa’s voice in my ear, “Don’t worry Tess, I got you. I’m here to help. No matter what.”
Her voice drifted away, and I sank into the darkness.
Chapter Twenty-Four
I woke up at base to the beeps of hospital monitors and Vaneesa’s cloud of dark hair tickling my chin. I assessed myself as I lay there, not wanting to disturb her. Vaneesa’s deep breathing meant she was fast asleep. The wet spot on the side of my gown proved that. My left wrist was around her shoulders, bandaged and numb. My right hand was wrapped in tape and had an IV needle in the backside of it.
And I had to pee. Of course. So if I weren’t laid up in a hospital bed, trapped under Vaneesa, exactly which hand would be useful to me if I made it to a bathroom? For a few more moments I managed to forget about my full bladder and just enjoy the closeness. A nurse came in quietly and took down some vitals, changed out the IV bag and gave me a linen rag. I scrunched my eyebrows sufficiently enough to mean ‘what is this for?’, and she nodded at Vaneesa’s head, indicating the wet spot on my mint green gown. I just held onto the rag, and the nurse left the room, shoulders shaking with silent laughter as she shut the door behind her.
Well, there went my help, and I still had to pee. I began to dab lightly at Vaneesa’s chin. I felt guilty at waking her; she obviously was quite tired, but this was about to become an emergency.
The door opened once more, and Colonel Shelley King stepped inside. Quite surprised to see her, I snapped a salute and sufficiently jostled Vaneesa enough to wake her.
“Ow, damn it,” I sucked in my breath as I lowered my hand. Saluting the Colonel had pulled on my IV and a searing pain snaked up my arm.
“Tess, what are you doing, be still. You’re gonna pull that IV out, and you need more time to recover from the sedative crystals. Is it bleeding?” Vaneesa leaned across me, reaching for my hand to check for blood when she looked up and realized we weren’t alone in the room.
“Oh, my apologies, I uhh… I just…” Vaneesa jumped off the bed trying to make a hasty excuse while straightening her rumpled clothes.
Colonel King stood patiently, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, as Vaneesa made herself presentable. The Colonel was dressed smartly in black dress pants and a dark blue silk button up blouse, short brown hair hanging loose to her shoulders. Completely out of character to how I was used to seeing her; military dress uniform, hair drawn back tightly.
“Van, let me introduce you to Colonel Shelley King. Colonel King was my previous handler and commander. Shelley King, this is Vaneesa, our communications specialist.”
Vaneesa’s eyes snapped to mine in shock and dismay. “I am so sorry. I am being completely unprofessional. What a terrible first impression.” She looked back to Colonel King in apology as she tugged at her clothes in an attempt to straighten them.
“Please don’t worry, I am here for personal reasons myself. Completely off the record,” Shelly raised an eyebrow to Vaneesa and nodded her head towards the camera on the wall. “So you are a communications specialist?”
Vaneesa understood her intent immediately. She left off her attempts to un-wrinkle her clothes with her hands and turned to sit on the small chair behind her, nonchalantly placing her hand inside her bag that was hanging over the back.
“You have about three minutes before the system pings the monitor station. I advise you speak quickly while both audio and visual are down.”
Shelley nodded to Vaneesa in thanks and pulled a document folder from her shoulder bag. She glanced at my bandaged hands, then handed it over to Vaneesa and stepped back.
“I may not have been a part of this mission, but I have been monitoring it very closely. After being with agents for so long, a commander wants to make sure their transition goes well when they move on. And I agreed to look over the files when Agent Turelli contacted me and further decided that this didn’t feel like a typical arms dealer transaction.”
I was surprised the Colonel had kept tabs, and that Isaiah had reached out to her. Well, it wasn’t like Lyon had been around much to help him. It was great to have her here, as I had always felt at ease around her, but I wondered what would have been so important for her to risk stepping on Colonel Lyon’s toes. Shelley continued.
“I flew into Italy as the case escalated and spoke to Mr. Townsend this morning. He’s here in holding,” she answered in response to my raised brow. “He told me much of what you spoke of in the warehouse. I won’t repeat the conversation for safety’s sake, but the documents in that folder are requesting you take guardianship of Sarah Townsend, and to be representative in all of her medical care. It is signed by him, witnessed by a court official and notarized as well. He has no close family to entrust Sarah’s care to, and it only took a small amount of persuasion on my part to suggest that you may be amenable. The document only needs your signature, and the signature of one additional guardian, if you desire that.”
I digested all of this quickly and glanced over to Vaneesa. She nodded briefly and quickly, her face serious. I flipped the folder open, fanned through the pages to the last one and signed in a flourish. Vaneesa grabbed the pen and followed suit. I snapped the folder back shut, and Vaneesa tucked it into her bag.
“Thirty seconds more and I have to lift the screen on the room,” she said.
“Thank you, Colonel King,” I was grateful she had been here to take care of this. I knew she took a big risk to do this for me, but she had influence in the CIA I could only imagine. What would have been a difficult situation for me to solve, had been a quick assessment and execution for her. If Van and I taking on guardianship of Sarah was the best option Shelley King could come up with; well I trusted her enough to agree without question.
“Call it selfish on my part, I never had kids and was too busy to worry about meeting someone to have them with. This is perfect for you, your stabilizer. And I am glad you found someone to share all of this with.” Shelley smiled at Vaneesa, then gave my shoulder an affectionate squeeze.
Vaneesa nodded and smiled, then held out her hand, palm up, to signal she was lifting the screen on the room. Shelley nodded to us both and exited the small room.
I closed my eyes and leaned back. I wasn’t sure what I was getting myself into but as Shelley said, at least I wasn’t alone in it.
“Van, is there a bedpan nearby?”
~
Later that evening I was released from the base infirmary and immediately went to see Philip in his tiny holding cell. The walls were all painted a lively baby blue, as if that would make someone feel better about being locked inside one. As I sat down across the square stainless table from him, he opened his mouth to speak, but I interrupted him before he could say anything.
“Please don’t say anything,” I said, moving my eyes around the room, indicating the need for secrecy.
Philip nodded in understanding.
“I want to apologize for my deception over the last couple of weeks, but it was necessary. I am truly sorry for your situation, but I just know a resolution will turn up.” I tapped my finger on the table and stressed the word know, to indicate my acceptance of his daughter’s guardianship.
He sighed, a deep breath as if he had been holding it while waiting for my confirmation.
“You are an amazing person, Philip. I never had anyone in my life that would go so far for me. Your daughter deserves the very best.” I was determined she would get it. “Your deportation back to Canada will be tomorrow. You will be tried for colluding with a known felon and intent to sel
l illegal weapons. Plead your case thoroughly, Philip, make sure the jury understands there were never any weapons, and you may only get a few years. In the meantime, there will be no reason to worry about the care of Sarah. I promise,” I whispered this last part; partly in secrecy, more so from complete conviction.
Philip nodded, a tear rolling down his cheek. “I have all the faith in the world, that Sarah will be just fine.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
The look on Colonel Lyon’s pockmarked face was priceless. He had expected to onboard a superstar team to his International CIA base of operations, but here were Vaneesa and I stating our intent to resign from the agency altogether. Lyon made a show of shuffling through the papers on his desk once more before looking back up to us.
“Surely there is some mistake here,” he challenged in his raspy voice. We had surprised him with our unannounced entrance into his office and presentation of letters of resignation. I had sat the letters on his desk and taken a seat in one of the leather chairs before he had a chance to greet us.
“No Sir, no mistake. Circumstances have changed, and I wish to retire from the agency and work on my own for a while,” I folded my arms and stared him down.
“And you suddenly wish for the same thing?” he queried Vaneesa, as he swung his glare away from me to settle on her.
“Yes, sir.” Vaneesa didn’t offer an explanation. She didn’t feel like she needed to, and her stern expression communicated that well.
Colonel Lyon continued to rifle through the sheets, though it didn’t matter how long he stalled. There was nothing he could do to make us stay. We were exemplary agents with no hints of suspicious activities or corruption. However, we had decided to get out before any suspicions became aroused. It seemed that no one had seen any briefcase at the warehouse, nor had any idea what could have been in it. Where it ended up was a mystery. Also, the papers we had signed for Sarah’s guardianship were future-dated by four days, and we wanted our resignations to be stamped prior to that date. The decision had been scary for me to make and had taken most of the previous night for us to discuss and agree upon. The CIA had been my home for the past eleven years. Now I was making a new home. But I wasn’t alone this time.
[Colt Information Agency 01.0] Agent Colt: Classified Pride Page 10
