Past Sins (Silhouette Bombshell)

by Debra Webb

  Olivia pushed the troubling thoughts out of her head. She had to sleep. She still had a long way to go.

  Staying on her toes was absolutely necessary if she wanted to survive this. And there was no way she would allow Jeffrey to be used as a pawn. He was innocent…had nothing to do with her past. Whoever was behind this little reunion would not be allowed to harm him. She couldn’t rule out the idea that someone might have targeted him, but the likelihood of her being chosen as the assassin in that case was so remote, so damn coincidental, she had a hard time lending any merit at all to the idea.

  She would have her answers.

  All she had to do was get to Hamilton. He had full access…he would know what to do.

  Slipping past his security wouldn’t be easy, especially for someone as out of practice as she was. But since when had she been afraid of six or seven guys with guns? Determination fired inside her.

  Since never.

  She was Sheara, Goddess of Death. She wasn’t afraid of anyone.

  All she had to do was remember that.

  Chapter 5

  “I refuse to take another step.”

  Olivia shoved her night-vision goggles up to her forehead and turned to glare at the man behind her. Not that he would notice. It was past midnight and darker than a cave in these damn woods.

  “You’re right.” She moved a step in his direction. The tension roiling through him was audible in his words as well as his ragged respiration. He’d long ago lost patience. Now panic had begun to set in. He wanted to be angry, Olivia sensed, but his concern for her kept his emotions bogged down in escalating anxiety. She was lucky he’d come this far with her.

  “You’ve been extremely flexible about this whole thing, Jeffrey, and I appreciate it immensely. You’ve made what I have to do a lot easier so far. At this point, though, there are additional risks involved in what I’m about to do. It would probably be in your best interest to stay here, clear of any fallout.”

  “Wait a minute…” He reached for her, his movement barely visible in the sparse moonlight filtering down through the dense canopy of trees. “What is it you’re going to do, Olivia? You’ve been far too vague about your plans. I don’t understand any of this. I’ve told you repeatedly that not going to the authorities is a mistake.” His fingers closed around her arms and he pulled her closer. “I can see that this situation has you terrified, but reacting rashly won’t solve the problem. There are laws to protect the innocent. Those same laws prosecute those who threaten us.” A breath of frustration and worry heaved out of him. “We’re out here in the dark, traipsing through the woods. What could you possibly hope to gain by doing this?”

  She was reasonably certain he wouldn’t want to know the truth. But giving him some fraction of the truth might keep him following her orders. He’d left the hotel in Memphis without much of a fuss. Had remained amicable during the long drive that followed. She couldn’t call him unreasonable at this point. They’d left the SUV hidden in the bushes well off the road and started their trek through the woods about an hour ago, and even faced with that strange request he hadn’t complained much.

  How could she expect any more of him?

  She couldn’t.

  “About fifteen minutes west of our current position there’s a farm,” she explained. “The owner of that farm is the man I need to see.” Director Hamilton had always spent his weekends at his farm a couple of hours outside Arlington. It was where he decompressed and contemplated the many decisions he had to make during the workweek at the Agency. He would be here tonight, there wasn’t a doubt in Olivia’s mind. But security would be there, as well. Bypassing them wouldn’t be a problem for her, but Jeffrey was a different matter.

  She’d been waiting for the right moment to break the news to him. He would stay back and she would move on, do what she had to do, then return for him. It was the best course of action.

  “You expect me to stay here while you go have your meeting? Alone? Olivia, have you lost your mind? Why didn’t we just drive to this farm? Surely there’s access from the main road. I’m not letting you do this alone.”

  A new kind of determination had edged into his voice.

  Maybe she had lost her mind. But she didn’t really have any better ideas at the moment. And she couldn’t let him get in the way…too much was at stake, including his life.

  “I need the element of surprise on my side, Jeffrey. That’s all I can tell you. I’ll be fine. I’ve done this before.”

  “When have you done this before?” Exasperation overtook some of the determination. “This is—”

  She fisted her fingers into his shirtfront. “Jeffrey, you have to trust me. I swear I know what I’m doing. If you don’t let me get this done…” She licked her lips, tried to think of some rational reason he might accept. “I’ll be in very serious trouble. Please trust me on this.”

  Another lungful of frustration burst from him. “I swear this is my final compromise. I’ll wait here, but you’d better hurry back. If this situation isn’t resolved after this, we’re going to the authorities. No negotiation.”

  She could live with that. For now. “Okay.” She tugged the .32 from her waistband, then turned on the flashlight long enough to give him a quick block of instruction in the gun’s use. “Just stay in the bushes and keep quiet.”

  “You know how I feel about guns.”

  “I’ll feel a lot better if you take these.” She held out the gun and the flashlight.

  A beat of silence passed before he relented. “Don’t worry about me.” His fingers closed reluctantly around the butt of the weapon and he took it from her. He accepted the flashlight a little more readily. “I can take care of myself. You’re the one I’m worried about.”

  “Don’t use your phone unless you have no other choice. If you call the authorities, Jeffrey, my situation could be compromised.” She’d given back his BlackBerry as a sign of good faith when he’d agreed to make the rest of the trip with her.

  “I won’t call anyone unless absolutely necessary.” Another disinclined conciliation.

  Olivia considered what might happen if she didn’t return. “It’s one-fifteen. If I’m not back by three, I want you to make your way back to the SUV and disappear for a while. Take a vacation somewhere. Just don’t go back to California for the next week or so.” She wasn’t completely certain he would be safe even then, but it was the best advice she could offer at this point.

  He made a sound that might have been a laugh had it not been chock-full of worry. “If you’re not back soon, I’m going to the police.”

  She supposed she couldn’t expect to control his actions if she didn’t return. She could only offer her best advice. There simply was no way to make him fully understand the situation. The concept was too foreign for a normal person’s mind to wrap around.

  Nothing would ever be the same from this moment forward. Jeffrey still believed in her, cared about her, wanted to protect her. But once he knew the whole truth, any feelings he had for her would disappear like so much smoke in the wind. Regret trickled through her. Once again her life had been taken away from her. Ripped from her as if she was so insignificant that her feelings—her happiness—didn’t matter.

  “I’ll be back as quickly as possible.”

  She disappeared into the dense woods without saying more. Anything else would only make what she knew came next more difficult. Jeffrey didn’t deserve to have his life at risk. It was her problem.

  If she didn’t make it out, Jeffrey might never be safe again—depending upon what the enemy wanted. No one deserved to die for someone else’s sins.

  Determination roared through her. That settled it then. She’d just have to get through this and make sure Jeffrey didn’t pay for her transgressions.

  Deputy Director David Hamilton’s log home, nestled amid the soaring evergreens and hardwoods of the Virginia countryside, presented the perfect Norman Rockwell setting. Serene, natural and welcoming. But she knew better t
han to be fooled by the lovely picture spotlighted in its meticulously landscaped clearing by the low-slung moon.

  Bulletproof windows. Half a dozen armed security guards. Motion sensors. Maybe even a few booby traps.

  A walk in the park for Sheara. But Olivia hadn’t played this game in a long time. Stepping on an unexpected “boom” rig or stumbling over a trip wire that would warn security of her presence held no appeal whatsoever.

  With her Beretta tucked in her waistband and the hunting knife sheathed in her right hiking boot, she slowly slipped into stealth mode. Her movements were a little stilted at first. She made more noise than she would have liked. So she took her time breaching the boundary into the clearing. No need to rush. She had to get her groove back.

  She held her breath as she took the first step. When no explosion sounded and the pounding of booted feet didn’t echo nearby, she figured she’d cleared the first hurdle.

  She hunkered down behind a cluster of shrubs as two guards emerged from the shadows at the far corner of the house. Rounds. She checked her watch. Probably made on the half hour. There would likely be two more in the house and perhaps an additional one or two making rounds in the woods that bordered the clearing. Since she hadn’t encountered security inside the treeline she had to assume that the rounds were alternated, or maybe she’d gotten lucky and they’d been on the west side of the property as she approached from the east.

  Okay. There was no going in at this point without being made and that could prove hazardous to her health.

  That left only one other option. She needed a “pass go” authorization. Only one way to get her hands on that kind of access.

  She eased back into the woods and waited. Fifteen minutes, she estimated. The outer-boundary scout or scouts should move through her area within fifteen minutes. Thirty tops. She hated to waste the time but better to be safe than sorry.

  Fourteen minutes and thirty seconds later and the soft crunch of footsteps crackled through the darkness.

  Perfect timing.

  Anticipation fired through her veins, the adrenaline burning her insides. Her heart rate accelerated into a fight-or-flight rhythm.

  If there were two, the job would be a little trickier.

  With her night-vision goggles in place, she watched the approach. One man. Her pulse reacted to the upturn in her luck. There could still be another one out there, but taking them out one at a time would greatly increase her odds of success.

  He passed not three feet from her and she was ready. She lunged into his back, her right arm going around his throat, her left hand over his mouth. He struggled. He was strong. But she was desperate. Adrenaline won out.

  The guy dropped to his knees. Not taking any chances, Olivia blocked his airflow a few seconds longer to ensure he’d truly lost consciousness. He crumpled against her and she lowered him to the ground. Her intent had not been to kill him, only to disable him. He’d regain consciousness pretty quickly, so she had to work fast.

  She stripped off his clothes, dragged them on over her own, including the black skull cap. She left him naked and unarmed on the ground, his hands cuffed behind his back. Her belt fastened behind his head with the wide leather strap tucked between his teeth gag style.

  After surveying the clearing, she stepped from the cover of the woods. She walked straight up to the generous front porch and climbed the steps. She’d found a key card in the guard’s pocket. One look at the front door and she knew what it was used for. She swiped the card and entered the house. Just like a hotel room. Shame on the director. He, of all people, should have retinal- or fingerprint-scan requirements. He had to be getting soft.

  The entry hall was dimly lit. She was surprised to find herself seemingly alone inside. Maybe her luck was going to hold out.

  Her steps silent, she’d made it halfway to the staircase when the unmistakable feel of a muzzle nudged the back of her skull.

  “Don’t move.”

  Her hands went up in classic surrender fashion. Damn. She hadn’t even heard him coming. “I’m here to see Director Hamilton.”

  The guard’s radio crackled and he responded. “I have the intruder.”

  He patted her down, removed the Beretta and the knife, then the guard’s .45 she’d taken.

  “On the floor.”

  “I said I’m here to see the director.”

  “The director isn’t home.”

  Olivia held her ground. “You tell him Sheara needs to see him.”

  “I told you—”

  “That’ll be all, Smith.”

  Olivia’s head went up. Deputy Director David Hamilton stood at the top of the staircase, a dim light from somewhere beyond him highlighting his silhouette.

  “Sir, she came in heavily armed, used Bedwell’s key card.”

  “I said, that’ll be all, Smith.”

  Retreating footsteps told Olivia the guard had moved away from her. She slowly lowered her hands.

  Hamilton didn’t really look that different. A little older and thinner maybe. More gray hair. Nothing significant. He actually looked pretty damn good for a man closer to sixty than fifty. He wore an elegant robe over comfortable-looking pajamas. He’d taken the time to put on house slippers and smooth his hair before leaving his room. Hamilton was never one to be caught with his trousers down. He probably had a weapon somewhere on his person. Maybe two.

  “Hello, Vanessa.”

  The chill of danger, however familiar, whispered through her. Vanessa. That had been her name before. The name she’d been given at birth. Vanessa Clark.

  “Hamilton,” she acknowledged, instinctively moving to a posture of full attention.

  His hands tucked casually into the pockets of his robe, he descended a couple of steps. “The key card you used is biometrics, new technology. The card itself recognizes the fingerprints of the carrier. Though it allowed you access, it also sent a warning to the head of security.”

  “Interesting.” She should have known he’d have that base covered.

  “I assume you have a good reason for breaking cover.”

  “I didn’t break cover.” She suddenly felt like a recruit facing her instructor after having made a stupid mistake in training. “My code name was reactivated.”

  Two more steps disappeared behind him. “Someone activated Sheara?” He sounded sincerely surprised.

  “That’s right.”

  The frown that furrowed his brow looked genuine enough. “I sunk that code name along with your last assignment and complete personnel file when you died.”

  “Yeah, well, someone resurrected me.”

  He paused, eight treads up from her position. His right hand moved from his pocket to caress his chin thoughtfully. She’d watched him do that a million times. The familiarity felt almost surreal.

  “No one at the Agency, I’m certain.”

  Two more steps down.

  “No one else knew I was alive.” Her pulse slammed wildly. He understood that she’d just openly accused him: the apprehension was right there in those wise gray eyes.

  “Absolutely no one,” he agreed. “I personally made sure of that.”

  She angled her head to stare directly up at him. “How do you suppose this happened?”

  He moved down the final step. “That’s what we’re going to find out.”

  Profound relief gushed through Olivia. She’d felt as if she was in this all alone when that call had come. She’d relied heavily on the idea that she could count on Hamilton. Thankfully her instincts had been right.

  “You look exhausted. How about some coffee?”

  “I could use the caffeine.”

  It was 2:00 a.m. when Olivia sat down at the deputy director’s kitchen table and watched him prepare a pot of imported coffee. His taste had always run to the exotic. He rambled on about the post–9/11 changes in the Agency. He despised reporting to a higher administration. In his opinion the nuisance was not only a waste of time but debilitating on numerous levels.

&nbs
p; Olivia had known when she’d read about the shake-up in the federal agencies that Hamilton wouldn’t approve. But it was a different world now—change was inevitable.

  When he joined her at the table with two cups of steaming black coffee, she gave him the rest of the story, including the one piece of evidence she had on who might be behind her unwanted resurrection: the Phantom.

  “I didn’t realize he was still around. He certainly hasn’t worked any joint operations with us since that last assignment he coordinated with you.”

  “Don’t remind me,” she muttered as she sipped her coffee. The warm brew soothed as it slid down her throat, the robust flavor promising a serious caffeine kick.

  “The way I see it,” Hamilton began, “you and your friend should disappear until we’ve cleared this up. I’ll conduct my own under-the-table investigation. Make sure this didn’t somehow come from us, though I’m very doubtful of that possibility.”

  So was Olivia. She didn’t know how the Phantom had found her and she sure as hell couldn’t imagine what he wanted. Maybe to finish the job of ruining her? Apparently the fact that he’d played a large part in ending her career three years ago wasn’t quite enough. She said as much to Director Hamilton.

  He rubbed his chin again, those analyzing wheels turning in his head. “I’m not so sure it’s as simple as that, Vanessa.”

  She didn’t bother correcting him. He didn’t know her new name, there was no reason for him to. “Why do you say that?”

  “What would he have to gain? We both know Landry. It isn’t as if he would launch an operation, official or unofficial, without some sort of motivation. There has to be a reason. A goal. Andrew Page, his superior, is a good man. I can’t see either of them being the culprit now or then.”

  She resisted the urge to touch the small gold heart…the only connection she’d kept to her old life besides the old cell number. She wasn’t afraid of the necklace. She’d checked it out. No tracking device, no bugs. Obviously he’d known her location before he’d had some jerk call her old Sheara number, otherwise he wouldn’t have known about Jeffrey, but he hadn’t learned it from the necklace.