Out of Sight (Project Athena)

Home > Other > Out of Sight (Project Athena) > Page 9
Out of Sight (Project Athena) Page 9

by Trish Milburn

But no, the knocking came again, this time more insistent.

  She trudged to the door, then peeked out the peephole. Daniel. Should’ve known.

  She was tempted to ignore him and go to bed, but would she even be able to sleep? When she opened the door, Daniel strode in and past her, a serious expression on his face. Would this night never end?

  “Why don’t you come in, make yourself at home?” Like he needed an invitation. Next thing you knew, he’d be telling her what type of shampoo to use.

  “Who were you just talking to?”

  “My mother.”

  “Did you call her?”

  “No.”

  “How did she know where to find you?”

  “She didn’t. She called my cell.”

  “What did you tell her?”

  “That I was being harassed by a giant pain in the ass. What is this, twenty questions?”

  Daniel opened his mouth to respond but, remarkably, closed it. Instead, he stared at her with a look so knowing it almost made her believe in mind reading.

  She glanced about the room, still not able to shake the being-stared-at feeling. “Can we go for a drive, get some ice cream maybe?”

  Jenna expected questions, but Daniel ushered her toward the door and wordlessly set the alarm as they exited. He remained silent as they slid into his SUV, as he started the engine and pulled out from the parking space, as he drove away and out of sight of her town house.

  Now she felt stupid. Why hadn’t she just done the daily report and sent him on his way so she could get some sleep? Because everything in her life was turned upside down. The things and people she could depend on were denied her. Like it or not, Daniel was all she had at the moment. She thought of Kevin, but even if she indulged that temptation, she couldn’t be honest.

  “So where has the best ice cream?” she asked.

  “Ice cream isn’t what’s on your mind.”

  “Yes, it is. I haven’t had a nice double scoop of strawberry in forever.”

  “Does ice cream always make you nervous?”

  She started to laugh off his inquiry, but the laugh never fully formed. “Do you have my place bugged? Set up with any type of cameras?”

  “No. But it’s a good idea.”

  She held up her hand. “No, thanks. I’d rather not wonder if a dozen federal agents are watching me as I get out of the shower.”

  She stared out the window into the night flecked with passing lights. They drove through Alexandria before Daniel pulled over at a riverside park and cut the engine. Jenna’s heart knocked on the inside of her chest and eardrums as if it were demanding to be let out.

  “What had you so spooked?” Daniel asked. “I know you’re using the alarm, and there was no one around.”

  “Are you sure?” Jenna took a deep breath, uncertainty mingling with the gnawing need to have a confidant. “Are you certain you didn’t overlook anyone?”

  She glanced at Daniel while her paranoid brain worried that he or his vehicle was bugged. She couldn’t stand the thought of his boss eavesdropping on her conversations. Daniel stared back at her, barely blinking.

  “What makes you think someone might have been overlooked?”

  Her heart rate increased to a painful cadence. A wave of dizziness forced her to look away and close her eyes for a minute. This place, this man, the whole incredible situation she’d been forced into had her thinking like one of the paranoid people she often picked up sleeping under bridges and pushing all their worldly goods in a shopping cart.

  She hated being weak, but this time the fear won.

  “I don’t know, just one of those weird feelings where you think someone’s watching you but you turn around and no one’s there.” She paused. “Do you...do you know if there are others like me?”

  “Not that I’m aware of. But anything’s possible.”

  She glanced about the vehicle, suddenly feeling confined.

  “I need to go for a walk.” Jenna opened the door, got out and started toward the bank of the Potomac. A fishy odor mingled with that of pavement still warm hours after the sun had set. A boat motored by in the darkness, sending gentle waves lapping against the rocks. She stood staring toward the lights on the opposite shore and wished she could toss her invisibility into the water and let it sink to the bottom, never to plague her again.

  She hated the feeling that there were people out there watching her, listening to her fears and concerns without her knowledge. She wished with all her heart she could trust Daniel fully, to be able to talk to him without worrying if a hidden microphone relayed everything she said back to agency headquarters.

  The strain of the past few days hit her, and tears stung her eyes. Daniel’s slow footsteps behind her made her blink them away. If she was going to make it through this mission, she had to bury her emotions, her fears, and take more control of the situation.

  She turned to where Daniel stood next to her, his gaze turned away toward the District, and shoved him into the river.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Daniel came up coughing and cursing. When he got his footing on the slippery rocks, he shoved his drenched hair out of his face. “Why the hell did you do that?”

  “It’s the only way I could be sure you weren’t wired. And even if you are, it’s probably fried now.”

  “Along with your brain. Damn, you are the most paranoid woman I’ve ever met.”

  “I seriously doubt that.”

  “At the moment, all others escape me.”

  It was the first time she’d seen him angry.

  “Well, maybe I am, but you people made me that way! I’m constantly thinking someone’s watching or eavesdropping on me.”

  “And you thought I was wired for what reason? Think about this rationally, if that’s possible. Why would anyone need to listen in when I can just tell them what you say?”

  She had no other answer than she was obviously losing her mind.

  Daniel slogged through the water, trying to pull himself from the less than pristine Potomac.

  “Stay there.”

  “Or what? You’ll shoot me and let my corpse float downriver? I don’t think so. You would have done that already if you were going to. Plus, you don’t have a gun.”

  “You sound pretty confident.”

  Daniel spread his arms. “Go ahead.”

  She stepped back out of his reach in case he had the bright idea of dumping her in the water. Sure it was the height of August, but she doubted the river temperature was pleasant in the middle of the night.

  When Daniel stepped up onto the bank, he wasted no time in ripping open his shirt to expose his chest. He pulled the shirt off and tossed it to her. It hit her with a watery splat. Daniel lifted his arms and spun completely around.

  “See, no wire. Do I need to take off the rest of it?”

  “No!”

  He lowered his arms and stared at her so long, she turned her gaze to the river for a moment. When she looked back at him again, she almost expected to see his cocky grin. Instead, he wore an open and concerned expression that surprised her and threatened to bring back the tears she’d kept at bay until this point.

  “I’m doing my best to be your friend, to protect you, while still doing my job. I swear to you I’m not and haven’t been wearing a wire. I don’t have to. The agency has complete confidence in me. I’m known for my thorough reports.”

  His mention of the agency chilled her. God how she wanted to believe him, that she could trust someone. But how could she? Her very life, and perhaps that of her father, depended on her making good judgements. She couldn’t fail her father like his government had.

  “I know what you were worried about, that if there are others like you they could be in the room with you and you wouldn’t know it.”

  She started to speak, but the words evaporated when Daniel’s cell phone rang from its perch in the SUV. Daniel sighed and hurried toward his vehicle to catch the call. Jenna looked toward the blackness of the shore stretc
hing into the night. How tempting it would be to walk out into that darkness and just keep walking, not caring where the rocky path led her.

  After a couple of minutes, she heard Daniel’s footsteps approach again. “Attractive, isn’t it?”

  “What?”

  “Walking off and leaving everything behind?”

  She shrugged. “Everyone feels like that at some point in their life.”

  Silence hung between them, and Jenna wondered if this was another time, another place, would this night end differently?

  Daniel snapped out of the moment and slipped back into agent mode. “We’ve got to go.”

  “Why? Who was that?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  Jenna’s stomach knotted at the memory of his boss’s voice, the trapped feeling she’d experienced inside their agency headquarters. She’d almost convinced herself that she’d never have to go there again as long as she did what they asked. What a fool.

  Her insides cramped as Daniel drove them toward D.C. When they reached headquarters and walked through the entrance to the building, she felt as if she’d just passed through the gates of hell and was about to descend into its bowels. She took a deep breath, hoping Daniel wouldn’t notice.

  Sure, he’d made overtures of friendship, but it could all be part of the master plan. Her insides might be revolting, but she would not show fear, nervousness or any weakness on which these people might feed. Best to put those emotions out of her mind entirely, pretend she was facing a dangerous situation at work where emotions might spell death.

  As they stood in the lobby waiting for the elevator, she wondered what was below her feet — the interrogation room, a hallway, something more vile and sinister? The elevator arrived, and Daniel held the door open while she stepped in as if she were going to nothing more unnerving than a meeting with a real estate agent. He didn’t make eye contact as he stepped in after her, but she detected a tenseness along his jawline that worried her.

  The rest of the journey to the hidden elevator passed in similar silence, but with each step Jenna’s sense that something was wrong grew. What would happen if she turned around and ran? Would beefy agents come out of the woodwork and drag her away into the dark silence below their feet? Would a single muffled shot end her worries as well as her life? She wondered if her father had ever seen the inside of this building and if his gut reaction had been the same.

  The ding of the Hades Express sent a jolt through her but she suppressed it. If things went bad, she’d find a way out. She had to.

  She stepped into the elevator and tried not to think about how her stomach rose as the elevator descended. When the doors opened, she stepped out into the cooler air of the hallway. The absence of normal office sounds combined with the hour and the temperature reminded her of a morgue in some bad late-night movie.

  Daniel headed the same direction he had during their previous visit and left with little option, she followed. As uncertain as she was about him, she’d rather be with him down here than face whoever else might be lurking. But when they reached the interrogation room, a stony-faced guard stood in front of the door. He ignored her but looked at Daniel and said, “Section C.”

  Jenna had no idea what the hell Section C was, but her instinct told her it wasn’t filled with daisies and butterflies.

  With only a slight nod of understanding, Daniel headed down the hall again, making a series of turns that had her frazzled brain struggling to keep track in case Section C called for an immediate retreat. They passed only two other people, a couple of serious looking guys heading in the other direction. Their blank faces didn’t acknowledge her, giving her the crazy thought they weren’t even human.

  “So, what’s the deal? Do I finally get to meet this mysterious boss of yours?”

  Daniel didn’t answer. Was she imagining the tenseness she’d seen along his jaw spreading to his neck, down to his back and radiating out to his arms?

  “You boys sure aren’t the chatty type, are you?” She expected him to spin toward her and tell her something obvious like she wasn’t taking the situation seriously. But he kept walking, and she wouldn’t be surprised if he led her around a corner to a guillotine.

  He stopped in front of a steel door and slid an ID card into a slot, which unlocked what sounded like a series of three locks. Who the heck were they keeping out? It wasn’t like the average Joe Thief was going to stroll by and try to force his way inside. Daniel looked at her for the first time since they’d entered the building. And something about the look in his eyes warned her that she wouldn’t like what was on the other side of that steel door. Before she could turn, he grabbed her arm and pulled her inside.

  It wasn’t a French executioner on the inside of the cold room. No, these objects were worse.

  “Say hello to Elliott,” the voice of Daniel’s mysterious boss said from all around her.

  Elliott? The man wearing the white lab coat and an expression of anticipation on his thin face didn’t look like an Elliott. No, he deserved a creepy, frightening, evil name.

  “Elliott, say hello to Ms. McCay. She’s come for a little tour.”

  Tour? She didn’t need a tour. She could see all she needed to just fine from where she stood. Elliott picked up a scalpel that seemed ten times shinier than anything she’d seen in an ER. Must be the abnormally bright light beaming down on the metal table in the middle of the room.

  Forgetting her vow to remain calm, she stepped backward only to run into the solid frame of Daniel. She pushed back but he didn’t budge. She turned and stared at his face. No emotion showed. His eyes were as empty as those of the men they’d passed in the hall.

  She spun when she sensed Elliott near her back. Despite his current lack of caring, she’d a million times rather turn her back on Daniel than Elliott and his array of grisly instruments.

  Up close, she saw his eyes were dark, almost as if they didn’t have irises, only huge pupils dilating at the thought of slicing her open and figuring out what gave her the ability to make herself invisible. Her blood iced over.

  “Do you know why I’ve brought you here?” Mystery Man asked.

  “You have a sick sense of humor, perhaps a fascination with CSI.” How she was able to pull on her reserve of sarcasm, she didn’t know. Autopilot, she guessed. Defense mechanism at an Oscar-winning level.

  “No. You are here to see that your fears are not without merit, that they can become very real very quickly if you do not fulfill your mission to our satisfaction.”

  “I’m working for you. What more do you want?”

  “Progress, Ms. McCay, and proof that it was not a mistake bringing you on board. I wouldn’t call the scene at the White House tonight your finest work.”

  How did he know about that? Did he have spies in the White House despite having her placed there? Was someone reporting to him what she did? Her mind raced back over the events of the evening. She’d been so afraid of being caught — and evidently she had been. But by whom? The Secret Service agent? He was the only one who’d shown any kind of attention to her, and even then she hadn’t been sure if he’d guessed at her presence or if it was her hyper-alert imagination.

  “You have someone inside spying on me.”

  “We leave nothing to chance. Agent Webster assured me you were reasonably intelligent, but I’m not so sure. You have done nothing to impress me so far.”

  “This may come as a shock, but I’m not trying to impress you.”

  “You’d better start trying. Elliott.”

  Elliott took a step toward the table and gestured for her to come forward. Yeah, like that was going to happen. Elliott’s eyes narrowed, but he still he didn’t say a word. The absence made him even more menacing. Elliott’s gaze shifted up slightly. Daniel’s hands gripped her shoulders and pushed her forward. Caught off guard, she stumbled a couple of steps before trying to plant her feet. But Daniel continued to push, and her feet slid on the tile until she was standing next to the table. P
erhaps it was her imagination, but she’d swear she could feel the cold wafting off of it, icy tendrils wrapping themselves around her like needy fingers.

  Her vision blurred when she saw the tray of instruments created to slice, pick and prod. Dear God, she wanted out of this room. If she had to live in an igloo alone above the Arctic Circle to escape these people, she would. She wanted to find her father desperately, but there had to be another way.

  “I take it you understand the consequences of not finding our assassin and soon?” the hidden man said.

  “Yes.” The words sounded muffled, as if it had to fight their way through the haze surrounding her.

  “Good. Because we cannot afford screw-ups like you had tonight. They will not be tolerated.”

  She despised being scolded like an errant child. “I’m doing the best I can with nothing to go on. You all have other resources who haven’t turned up much either.”

  “They don’t have the ability to make themselves invisible, Ms. McCay.”

  “If you all have any clues, give them to me. Because I don’t think someone’s going to spill the beans in front of me, invisible or not.” She eyed Elliott, hoping she wasn’t forcing herself closer to being turned over to him with every word she uttered.

  “You are told everything you need to know,” the man said. “Mr. Webster.”

  As if they all understood some code or had a hive mind, Daniel turned her from the table and guided her out of the room. Wasting no time, they retraced their route back to the elevator, through the fake office, down the building’s main elevators and out into the night.

  Daniel remained silent, and for once she was thankful. She didn’t want to see him again as long as she lived. He was no better than the rest of the lot inside that horrid building, holding her against her will, forcing her to come face to face with the one thing that frightened her more than anything else she could even imagine.

 

‹ Prev