Chastity Flame (19 page)

His laugh seemed to suggest that he
very much enjoyed her spirited retort. "Oh, nothing like that.
Money, I have money. I don't need more money—oh, yes, I know what
you think, that I am trying to make a new fortune with this little
plan of mine. It is true, I plan to benefit handsomely from the
payoff, is that not the term? Indeed, I'm sure that I will."
Chastity certainly couldn't fault his confidence. "But I do it not
for that money, pleasant as it is to receive, but for the simple
joy of upsetting all those little carts all in a row. Causing some
chaos, having a little entertainment, a laugh."

"It's good that you can laugh at
others' pain," Chastity said, the words spat out bitterly, as if
they had become sour in her mouth. "Such cheap entertainment and so
plentiful. I know some starving people who might give you a
chuckle. Children with missing limbs from land mines that might
just give you a giggle. I know a devastating oil spill that's just
hilarious."

"Now, Ms. Flame, there's no need to be
like that. I do not hurt the dregs of society. I am only making the
greedy suffer in this case. People whom you might be glad to have
brought down a peg or two, as they say. Surely you do not object to
that?"

"When the currencies are
destabilized," Chastity said through gritted teeth, "it affects
everyone, rich and poor. The rich might be a little less rich, but
each penny for the poor matters immensely. You can play your games,
Mr. Wesenlund, but don't pretend that real people don't suffer and
suffer a lot."

"Women who lecture get tiresome very
quickly, Ms. Flame," Wesenlund said, obvious in his attempts to
conceal his irritation. "You want to save the world, do it. If you
want to save your friend, you have only as long as he continues to
be useful to me."

"How can he be useful? You know that
my superiors will sacrifice him rather than jeopardize the
mission."

Wesenlund laughed low and
interminably. "Yes, I know they would, but I have a feeling that
you will not. Good-bye, Ms. Flame. Happy hunting."

Chastity stood with receiver buzzing
in her hand, fury and fear fighting for dominance in her head. If
anything should happen to Damien—she couldn't even finish the
thought. Nothing was going to happen to Damien. It simply wasn't
possible. She laid down the receiver and retrieved her mobile.
Kevin answered with a cheery hello, clearly expecting more
information about the Spigot scheme.

"They've got 4CB."

Kevin's quick intake of breath let her
know this news had not reached them. "Any idea where?"

"I just got off the phone with
Wesenlund—cheeky bugger, bold as brass. Can you follow the call
back? He may not be where Damien, er, 4CB is located, but the more
we know the better, eh?"

"Right-o," Kevin said as she heard the
clicks of keys through the phone. "He is…in international waters
and on a mobile. That doesn’t tell us much, eh? 4CB's phone has
been shut off. Chances are they ditched it."

"I'm going to guess they've moved him
out of Helsinki. Air would doubtless be the simplest answer. Can we
check for small planes and charter flights from here?"

"Can do," Kevin said, his furious
clacking demonstrating that he had already begun to do so. "We have
a bunch of charter flights. Alright, eliminating flights scheduled
more than a day in advance. That takes it down to six."

"Check the passenger lists. Can you
cross-reference with a list of Wesenlund's known
employees?"

"Ooh, good idea!" For a few minutes,
Chastity heard only the steady stream of clicks. "Got one! Two in
fact. Small jet supposedly headed to Bergen, at least that's what
they submitted in their paperwork."

"Book me on a flight to Bergen,"
Chastity said, the words nearly snapping off in her mouth. "I can
be there just after them and—"

"Chas," Kevin said, his voice full of
troubled doubt, "they may well be going somewhere else. We should
wait and see if they land there—and whether they stay."

She knew Kevin was right, but Chastity
could feel the itch to do something, anything fill her skin. She
wanted to rush off and save Damien. She wanted to berate him for
getting caught in the first place, then strip him and throw him
down on the bed and make love to him until they both passed out
form exhaustion. She wanted to fill her mouth with the taste of
him, wrap her arms around him and feel him hard inside
her.

But this wasn't about what Chastity
wanted. It was about saving Damien. He was right. "Okay then," she
agreed. "I'll wait here. No, I'll pack and head to the airport.
That way I can go whatever the answer ends up being."

"Chas," Kevin said again, aware how
much his shortening her name irritated her. "In all likelihood
we'll have people in the region who can attend to this better. We
could use you back here on the case. Don't forget that every little
bit you know about the Spigot scheme could prove important. Get
back to London."

"Let me just see how this plays out,"
Chastity said, trying not to let her voice become a whine. "I'm
concerned. I feel responsible."

"Hang on," Kevin said, then she heard
a click and it was Monitor.

"Chastity, you're coming back to
London. You're book on the next available flight. Grab a cab and
you'll get there in plenty of time. You are not to follow 4CB.
We'll talk upon your return."

"I see," Chastity said, feeling an
unpleasant ripple of guilt. Did Monitor know something? Or was she
simply projecting her culpability onto her boss' reaction? What did
it matter? Nothing was changed by knowing or not knowing. Damien
was gone. They had to get him back—while he was still alive. The
thought jolted her. Don't think about it, she told herself. "I'm
packing now. Be seeing you."

While she filled up her luggage,
Chastity was mostly able to shut off the nagging voice in her ear
that said minutes were ticking away, minutes of Damien's life. Even
packing his bag, she kept her mind on what needed to be done, not
what this action meant, but she could not resist holding up to her
nose the shirt he had worn the day before, where his scent still
lingered. A single sob welled up in her throat, but she put it away
with the shirt and continued packing.

Through all the folderol at the
airport she stayed focused. Chastity smiled and nodded at the
interminable personnel that even her special clearance didn't allow
her to skip altogether. While waiting in the VIP lounge during some
unspecified delay, she sipped a vodka martini and ignored her
paperback, staring idly out the window as she willed herself not to
think about Damien. Boarding kept her distracted, people squeezing
past, chatting with the gentleman in the seat next to her, whose
English came only at the expense of much effort and facial
contortions. "This is my first trip to London," he said with a
strong Finnish accent. "I have been to Estonia and Sweden, but—" He
shrugged.

"You'll love it," Chastity said,
finding the conversation an effort. Once up in the air, she leaned
her chair back to try to get a little sleep. She had been so wired
all afternoon, her body told her it needed rest. That's what I
need, Chastity told herself, to let the brain shut down and not
think.

Of course, once she let go and sleep
overtook her, there was nothing to keep her mind from traveling
precisely where it wished to go. Chastity wasn't even aware as her
body responded to the scenario unfolding behind her closed eyes.
They were once more in the theatre together, Damien's hand resting
chastely on hers. "How do you like the show?" he said to her,
whispering even though the rest of the seats seemed to be
completely empty.

Chastity looked up at the stage. Four
couples danced a slow tango around the mostly dark stage, where a
single beam of pink light shone upon an old brass bed. "We should
be up there," she said, pointing to the stage. They rose and
suddenly the two of them were up there with the others. Damien took
her left hand in his right and clapped his left to her back,
thrusting their hips close together as they turned to stalk across
the stage. Somewhere a frisky tango beat played and they managed to
keep perfect time, although Chastity could not recall ever dancing
that well before. Somehow Damien's steps melded with hers without
hesitation or awkwardness. The sweat of their closeness drenched
them both.

"Bed time," Chastity whispered. And
just like that, she was lying on the bed, Damien on top of her.
Gently he kissed her forehead, her cheeks, then brushed gently
against her lips, moving down slightly to begin kissing her neck
and chest while Chastity squirmed happily beneath him.

"I love you," he repeated between each
kiss. "I love you."

Gradually Chastity realized that the
other dancers had drawn near and were stroking their limbs as
Damien continued to kiss her flesh. Effortlessly, the dancers'
hands pulled away their clothes until she and Damien were skin on
skin. His mouth closed upon her breast as he thrust his bold
erection between her thighs, teasing her lips and clit. She felt
others' hands join hers encircling Damien's back. Fingers twined in
her hair, pulling it just hard enough to release endorphins. She
gasped as a mouth closed on her toe, a tongue flicking around its
base.

Hands gently pulled her legs apart,
someone even thrust a pillow under her hips. Damien used the change
in position to slip just the tip of his cock inside her. "More!"
Chastity murmured. Damien complied, sliding up to the hilt and
grinding against her. All the hands kept in sync with their
movements. As Damien began to move within her, the hands brought
Chastity up to meet his thrusts. It was a completely enveloping
wave of sensation, caressed within and without. Chastity could feel
the orgasm building from somewhere deep inside her. It felt as if
were going to be strong enough to blow them off the bed. The spasm
began to shake her body as Damien slammed against her.

"Can you bring your seat into the
upright position?" the flight attendant asked, tapping her on the
shoulder. "We'll be landing soon."

Chastity looked up, breathless and
disoriented. "Yes, of course, of course."

Chapter Fifteen

"I hardly know how to begin," Monitor
said, running her hand through her hair, which was already pointing
in all directions of the compass.

"Begin at the beginning," Chastity
said, unable to conceal her irritation. Time was ticking away. How
much longer would he have to suffer at Wesenlund's hands? She
shuddered to even think about it. Besides, when she tried to
imagine Damien, her thoughts would stray to the tango dream she had
on the plane and she would get all distracted again.

"I realize you are upset about 4CB's
disappearance," Monitor began, hesitating for a moment before
continuing, "and I know why."

Chastity stared at her.

"Chastity, use your head." Monitor's
expression seemed to hover between concern, annoyance and
amusement. "You know all the conference rooms are under
surveillance, yes?"

Chastity stiffened in her chair. Yes,
of course she knew that. Everyone knew that. So how had she managed
to forget that fact? She could feel her face flush crimson. "How
many . . ."

"Not many," Monitor assured her. "In
fact just one of Kevin's team and myself."

"Not Kevin?" Thank the gods for small
favors. "I—I don't know what to say." She felt like a truant
student called before the headmaster's desk, but she also felt a
fierce sense of pride. Damien was worth it. "Did you enjoy the
show?" she added with a smile. It was a bit forced, but Chastity
felt as if she had recovered some of her balance.

Monitor coughed. It was her turn to
experience a bit of embarrassment. "I didn’t watch all of it, but
enough to ah, well, I know how he feels about you. And although you
didn't seem to respond to well to that, it's clear that he's become
quite important to you."

"I just feel responsible for letting
him get snatched away like that. We should have stuck
together."

"It's more than that, you know very
well." Monitor sighed, shuffling the folders on her desk. "You of
all people should know—"

"No fraternizing," Chastity completed
her sentence. "I know, I know. But we didn't know at first. Until
he showed up in Stockholm, I had no idea."

Monitor shook her head wonderingly.
"Where did you meet?"

"National Gallery. In front
of Cezanne's
Les Grandes
Baigneuses
."

They looked at each other for a moment
and then they both burst into laughter. "I guess that's how you can
recognize great art, when the handsome young men follow you around
the room."

Chastity couldn't help smiling. "He
did, even though I had to meet a contact that day. When I came
back, he hadn't left." The memory warmed her. But a chill quickly
followed it. "I know it's not possible. I know what the rules
are."

"The loss of your parents was such a
blow. Nothing like the devastation for you, Chastity," she added,
her eyes full of concern. "But it set us on our heels and made the
risks—already much discussed—quite clear. Even a flicker of
recognition can disrupt an extraction, as we have seen. So much
worse when there's . . . more going on."