Operation Sheba (14 page)

“Michael, I have never respected any man as much as I do you.” On cue, she saw his jaw unclench. Good. She leaned forward, kept her eyes locked on his. “What you do for this country every day, the millions of people you help keep safe whether we’re at war or at peace…it blows my mind you could be such a good guy, through and through. There aren’t many like you. Not in Washington, not in the whole country.” She paused, searching his face. “I don’t talk about my past, because I try hard to live in the present. My present is so much nicer than my past. Every day I spend with you is like a dream. You make me happy and you make me feel safe. In case you didn’t realize it, those are two pretty cool accomplishments.”

Michael softened, reached up and patted her thigh. “Are you brown-nosing, Quinn?”

Julia grabbed her chest in mock indignation. “Me? Brown-nose? Never.”

“You’re up to something. Mind telling me what?”

Julia smiled at his astuteness and his directness, two qualities she’d always admired in him. “Not so fast, big guy. You need coffee and breakfast.”
She
needed coffee and breakfast. She stood and pulled him out of his chair.

He started to argue, but Julia cut him off. “The world will not end if Michael Stone takes half an hour for himself. Come with me.”

“Okay, okay,” he relinquished, following her to the kitchen. Pongo tagged along. “But there’s a new conflict brewing in the Middle East with Iran, and terrorists are about to wipe out the G5 summit in Geneva. When Titus calls this morning and wants to know what I’m doing about all of that, what do you suggest I tell him?”

“Tell him I forced you at gunpoint to eat breakfast.” She filled a large white mug with hot coffee and pushed it into one of his hands. Then she grabbed the
Post
off the counter and put that in his other hand. “Tell him I seduced you with my tantalizingly delicious French toast.”

One of Michael’s eyebrows rose. “You made French toast?”

“I’m going to make some right now. You go upstairs and relax on the balcony. It’s a beautiful morning. Drink your coffee, read the paper. Breakfast will be ready in about twenty minutes.”

Michael studied her for a moment and took a sip of his coffee. “And then we’ll talk.”

Filling a second mug for herself, she nodded. “Then we’ll talk.” As Michael turned to go, she added, “I want to know about that girlfriend you mentioned.”

He shot her a
yeah, right
look over his shoulder and was gone.

Letting out her breath, Julia found herself looking down at Pongo. Never one to ignore the possibility of food finding its way to the floor when she was cooking, he wagged his stubby tail in anticipation. “How do I get myself into these messes?” she asked him. His mouth opened slightly and he panted.

“Thanks for the insight.” Without wasting more time, she went to work starting breakfast and finishing her traitorous spying.

Chapter Eighteen

Michael didn’t need to be told twice. He poured maple syrup on his French toast and dug in. The first bite was enough to make the Middle East conflict and his worries about impending doom in Europe suddenly seem less important.

“Do you know,” he said, looking at her, “that you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me?”

He saw something flicker in her eyes…sadness? Regret? She diverted them to her own stack of French toast and sprinkled powdered sugar on it. Pongo sat at her feet, gaze never leaving the table.

Michael willed her to look at him. She obliged and gave him a halting smile. “Now who’s brown-nosing? Trying to get me to forget about that past girlfriend?”

From experience, Michael knew that a current lover asking about an ex meant she was thinking about a future with him. He smiled and feasted on some more of his breakfast. For a few moments they ate in peace, Abby slipping Pongo small bites of toast under the table.

“Pongo’s trained to never take food from anyone but me,” Michael said.

“My cooking’s hard to resist.”

Michael agreed. Finishing off the last few bites, he took a long drink of coffee and pushed his chair back a few inches. He sat watching Abby. After a minute, she stopped chewing and raised her eyebrows.

Michael just waited. He knew she knew what he was waiting for. She kept struggling to act and sound casual when she was anything but. Her body armor was back in place and it made him damn frustrated. Up until Ryan Smith had made his appearance, Michael was sure he had been making progress at destroying that armor. He’d thought Abigail was finally allowing him into her inner world. In the past few days though she’d been distant at times, almost confrontational at others, and the next minute she was working him over with charm and teasing. Was it really all because of that damned polygraph test? Or the memories of her past life that Smith resurrected?

She still thinks you don’t trust her
.

Michael met her eyes. “Talk to me.”

Abigail threw her last bite of French toast into Pongo’s waiting mouth and pushed her plate back. She grabbed her glass of milk and took a sip. “I pulled the listening device out of my car. Has Security debugged my apartment yet?”

He nodded. “Ben Raines called while you were fixing breakfast. He personally swept your place and found three bugs and the wiretap on your phone. Along with some of his security officers, he then swept the rest of the building and found six more bugs located in two other apartments. Looks like your landlord might have been doing a little eavesdropping.”

Abby coughed, choking on the milk she was swallowing. She reached for the napkin in her lap and wiped her mouth with it. Setting the milk down, she gave him a confused, somewhat horrified look. “Do we know why?”

“Raines ran a background check on him and found a prior arrest record for taking photos and video of women unbeknownst to them and posting it on a website. All misdemeanor stuff, but apparently the guy likes to look up women’s skirts.”

“God, did he have hidden video cameras too?”

That brought a smile from Michael. “Raines didn’t report any. Why? Got something to hide?”

She laughed and cleared her throat a couple of times. “Just me running around in the buff, I guess.”

“Well, maybe I better call Raines back and ask him to install a few surveillance pieces for me then.”

Rolling her eyes, she scratched Pongo’s chin. “Is Raines tracking Ryan Smith?”

Michael raised an eyebrow at her.

“What? Is that confidential or something?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, that’s confidential? Or yes, Raines is tracking Smith?”

“Both,” he answered matter-of-factly.

Her face lit up and she grinned. “You’re so easy, Stone. I make breakfast for you and I have you eating out of my hands.”

“Anything else you want to know while I’m so gullible?”

The grin left her face. She went right for the kill. “Do you really trust me?”

He didn’t hesitate, didn’t even blink. “You know I do.”

“Then let
me
track Smitty.”

“What?”

She leaned on the table. “Ben Raines is never going to find him. But I can. I know how Smitty thinks, how he works. I’m your ace in the hole on this one.”

He shook his head. “No way. We don’t know what he’s up to. It’s too dangerous.”

“Too dangerous?” She straightened up and frowned at him. “My God, Michael, I was a field operator for five years, tracking everything from terrorists to gunrunners. Ryan is the CIA’s version of Mr. Rogers. I think I can handle him.” She pointed a finger at him. “Plus, Smitty and I were close. He trusts me, and that can work to your advantage. I’m probably the only person who can bring him back in.”

Michael crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her for a moment. “I don’t like it.”

“But you know I’m right.”

Damn, she
was
right, Michael stewed. She
was
his ace in the hole. He’d actually already given the idea consideration. If only he wasn’t so tied up with the current state of foreign affairs, he’d work it with her just so he could cover her back.

“I’ll authorize you to work on the case on one condition.” He held up his finger. “You work with Raines. That way if anything serious goes down, you’ve got experienced backup.”

She crossed her arms, mimicking him with dogged determination. “No way, Stone. I don’t do that partner shit anymore.”

“Take it or leave it,
Quinn
. You either do the partner
shit
or you don’t work the case.”

Abigail sat back and let out a seemingly disgusted sigh. Pongo moved closer, laying his head on her thigh and staring up at her with his big brown dog eyes.

She patted the dog’s head. “It’s not a good move. Raines won’t like being pushed into working with me, an analyst, and he’ll want to know why I’m qualified to track Smitty. If he figures out who I really am, my cover will be blown at headquarters.”

He’d already considered this. “It’s still the best arrangement I can give you. Raines doesn’t have to know anything about your past. If I give him the order to work with you, he’ll do it, no questions asked.”

She was silent for a several heartbeats, her analytical brain in overdrive. Michael could see her weighing her desire to go after Smitty with having this undesirable partner. “I’ll have to take a leave of absence from the CTC.”

He shook his head. “Susan won’t go along with losing her head analyst. You might get away with partial leave though if I tell her what you’re working on. She’ll need to know anyway, you’ll need her help with this.”

“I’ll need her to give me everything she’s got on Smitty and I’ll use her as my source if I need assistance. Besides you, she’s the only one I trust.”

“You aren’t authorized to read Ryan Smith’s file, but Susan will give you the unclassified material. Raines is on his way here to check for listening devices. You can meet him then and we’ll go over your plan.”

“What’s his background?”

“He’s ex-FBI. Plenty of citations in his file and he’ll probably take over the CTC Director slot when Susan moves on. I’ve known him for a lot of years. Always found him professional and easy to work with.”

“What makes you so sure I have a plan?”

Michael looked at her in mock disbelief. “Abigail Quinn without a plan?” He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “You’ve been thinking up a plan from the moment you saw that tape.”

She rose out of her chair, Pongo moving out of the way, and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Think you’re pretty smart, don’t you?”

He parted his legs and pulled her close. “Smart enough to keep you under my thumb day
and night,
” he said, mimicking her.

She laughed. “So which is better, the sex or my cooking?”

“Hmmm.” He rubbed his chin. “That’s a tough one.”

She smacked his arm and he tickled her ribs, Pongo barking and jumping at him in fun. After a moment, Abby pushed off him and started clearing the table. He started to help.

“I’ll do it,” she said, taking his plate out of his hands. “I know you need to get to work.”

Michael kissed the top of her head. “You really are good for me.”

She smiled and he saw the flicker of sadness pass over her face again before she walked away.

As soon as the door to Michael’s office closed, Julia breathed a sigh of relief. The two memory sticks were tucked inside her bra, the laptop with its security system back in place was sitting safely inside Michael’s briefcase. On top of that, she’d gotten Michael to okay her plan to go after Smitty. Now she could get to work.

Only she wasn’t working with Ben Raines. No way. No how. Not in this lifetime.

After sticking all the dishes in the dishwasher, she filled the soap dispenser and turned it on. Then she high-tailed it upstairs, grabbed her purse and her jacket and came back down. She stuck a short note on the door telling Michael she’d forgotten an appointment and would be back later. He was on the phone. She could hear his voice filtering through the door. It would be awhile before he even missed her. She kissed the top of Pongo’s head and headed for the door.

As she pulled the Audi out of the garage stall, she plugged her cell phone into the battery charger and turned J. Lo up on the CD player. Her heart was pounding a little faster than normal as she gave the guard at the gate a big smile and a flirty wave. He tipped his hat at her and motioned her through.

Chapter Nineteen

It was no surprise someone was following her. She’d been expecting it for the last three days, although now she was sure the order hadn’t come from Michael. However she wasn’t sure who the driver was behind the wheel of the rusty Ford Econoline van that stayed three to four cars behind her. Raines? Conrad? Good grief, even Ace was in on surveillance these days. At least the car wasn’t a hearse this time. The thought of that following her around conjured up weird vibes, like someone was just waiting for her to keel over dead.

Julia slipped off the highway and began crisscrossing smaller roads, casually weaving her way around Arlington while circling closer to her apartment. She needed to drop the memory sticks off to Smitty and tell him and Con about her plan and how she now had Michael’s official okay to track Smitty down. She’d have more time to help them—that part they’d like. The rest…well, she’d probably have to call Ben Raines, turn Smitty in and explain the rest of her plan afterwards…

Julia glanced in her rearview and noticed the tail had disappeared. She slowed the car by a few miles an hour and divided her gaze between the road in front of her and the road behind while she drove. If she’d lost her tail that easily, it had to be Ace or someone else equally unqualified.

Or she was just being overly paranoid.

Julia checked the mirror again after another mile. Nothing.

She increased her speed and headed back toward Interstate 66. Within minutes she exited the interstate and headed home with still no sign of her tail. She scanned the parking lot outside her apartment building and saw nothing out of the ordinary.

Just inside the building’s main door, she waited at the window, hidden behind what was once a white gauzy curtain now gone yellow with age. After ten minutes, she was rewarded for her patience as the Ford van pulled slowly up to the curb about fifty yards away. It looked right at home parked behind a neighbor’s woody-sided Plymouth station wagon.

Fact: Conrad Flynn wouldn’t be caught dead in a Ford.

Julia went directly to Con and Smitty’s door. There was no answer. She considered picking the lock and letting herself in. No doubt they’d packed up the computer equipment, wiped the place clean of prints and taken off before Raines and his group had canvassed the place. But Conrad would be in contact…he might even be in her apartment at that moment, so she left the lock alone and went to her apartment instead.

She was shocked to discover her apartment was a mess. Couch cushions were askew. Her measly amount of silverware was dumped in the kitchen sink. Her bed had been stripped. Drawers of clothes had been dumped on the floor. The place looked like professional criminals had tossed it.

The CIA had handheld instruments that could scan a room or car for listening devices without ever touching a thing. There was no reason for this destruction of her personal property. Michael had only requested Security check for bugs. Julia felt a wave of uneasiness wash over her.

What was Raines really looking for? Numbered bank account books? Classified documents?
The name and number of my bookie
?

Conrad’s voice whispered in her ear.
Access is power, Julia. Whoever did this is trying to scare you, show you who’s in control.

Julia shook her head to remove that thought and fixed the cushions on the couch. She moved on to the bedroom and felt her blood begin to boil as she picked up her bras and panties and returned them to the dresser drawer. She couldn’t stop the fleeting image of male security officers enjoying themselves slingshotting her thongs around the room. The image didn’t fit with her impression of Benito Raines, but then she didn’t really know him.

Benny, my boy, you are in deep shit when I get hold of you.

As she continued returning her apartment to normal, she contemplated marching out to the van and shooting its tires out if it were Agency goons in it. That would certainly get her message across to Ben but rob her of real satisfaction. Michael would no doubt pull her off Smitty’s case to chastise her. No, she’d have to hold her anger in check for now. As long as she was in charge of tracking down Smitty, she could buy him and Con, and herself, a few more days to figure everything out.

Julia had just picked up her iPod, when she heard a noise behind her. Expecting to find Con, she took a step back when it was a woman standing in the doorway instead.

“What a mess,” the woman said, her leer scanning the room’s dishevelment. “You should think about hiring a housekeeper.”

She was tall, dark-haired and her words were crisp and accented ever so slightly. Warning bells were going off in Julia’s head—she knew she knew this woman, but she couldn’t place her. Slipping the iPod casually into her purse, Julia let her hand rest on the SIG hidden there. “And you should think about knocking before entering someone’s home.”

“Touché,” the woman acknowledged with a glance at Julia’s purse.

“You’re the one following me?”

The woman’s hair moved with her nod.

“Do I know you?”

The woman brushed her red fingernails across a neat row of bangs and smiled coyly. “Not exactly.” Her accent was definitely German. “You and I are going to help each other out, Ms. Torrison.”

Letting the purse slid out of her hands and to the bed, Julia pulled out the gun and crossed her arms, leaving it showing. She raised her eyebrows, doing her best to imitate Michael, and waited.

The woman took the hint. “I have information that will save Conrad Flynn’s life. Yours too.”

Julia studied the woman’s face and felt another twinge of familiarity. She remembered the picture Con had shown her of Heinrich Kramer and his girlfriend. Her pulse, already pounding out a pretty good tempo, kicked up another notch. “I’m listening.”

“The person you are looking for is Susan Richmond.”

Julia sat at the kitchen table and watched Cari Von Motz carefully. Cari was doing the same to her—their eyes were locked in a stare down. It was hard to gauge her truthfulness, Julia decided, but not her confidence. Or defiance.

She immediately liked her.

“First of all,” Julia said, “how do you know I’m looking for someone?”

“I know Flynn is alive and Smith is AWOL from the CIA, and I know why,” Cari answered with forced patience, as if explaining to a three-year-old. “I know you are sleeping with Michael Stone and helping Flynn and Smith. I know a few other things as well. Things that are—how do you say it? Sensitive in nature?” She spread a well-manicured hand. “How do you think I know these things?”

Julia felt her morning’s breakfast twisting in her stomach. “Susan.” Her gut rejected the idea, but her brain was snapping pieces into place at the speed of light. Susan, her boss. Long-term, loyal employee of the CIA. Conrad’s trusted friend. A traitor?

It was hard to wrap her mind around it.

Julia chewed the inside of her cheek. The gun was still in her hand, the memory sticks still in her bra, and they were starting to dig in just above her underwires. Her body was humming with a discomfiting energy that made her want to jump up, find Con, call Michael and hunt Susan down and demand an explanation all at the same time. And she positively had to get those darn silicone jump drives out of her bra in the next minute or she was going to scream. Instead, she took a breath and considered her options.

Nope, the memory sticks were going to have to stay put. She had to get the full story.

The listening devices Con had given her to distribute at Michael’s house were in the pocket of her coat. Because Raines hadn’t swept the house for bugs yet, she’d kept them on her, planning to distribute them tonight. Now, she set the gun on the table to distract Cari while she slipped her left hand in her pocket, brought out a bug under the table, ran a finger over it to turn it on and stuck it to the wood.
Please, Con, be listening
.

“Okay, Cari,” she said, smoothing her hand over the black SIG, “Susan’s told you about Conrad Flynn, Ryan Smith and myself. How do you know she’s the person we’re looking for?”

Cari brought her eyes up from the gun. “Because I’m the one who has been helping her all along to lead Flynn and Smith on a wild goose chase ending here in America. She is the CIA’s traitor. She used me to set all of you up.”

“Why you?”

Clicking her nails on the table, Cari flipped her hair back and sighed. “It is a long and complicated story.”

“Give me the Cliff Notes.”

“The what?”

“The condensed version.”

Cari studied her for a long minute. “I was given up for adoption at birth. It was a private adoption. The records were sealed in Geneva. As a teenager, I began looking for my birth mother but I only found dead ends. When I hooked up with Heinrich Kramer, he had various connections who helped me find her. When I found out who she was, Heinrich and I decided to blackmail her.”

Julia was momentarily baffled. “You’re telling me Susan Richmond is your mother?”

Cari nodded. “I wanted a life here in America. A life of privilege, like she enjoys. She owes me that. But when I contacted her, told her I would out her if she didn’t bring me to America, she turned the tables on me. She told me I had to do something for her first, and then she would bring me here and set me up with a trust fund of sorts.”

Julia weighed the story judiciously. On a cellular level, she was relieved Cari was pointing a finger at someone other than Michael, but she needed more evidence to believe Susan was in any way connected to the shadow CIA. “Give me concrete details, Cari. I’m finding it very difficult to picture Susan as the CIA’s mole.”

Resignation spread across Cari’s features. “My mother’s top analyst, I knew you would ask for proof.” She reached into an inside coat pocket and Julia’s hand closed over the butt of the gun. Cari stopped, eyed the gun and shot a look at Julia. Julia nodded for her to bring her hand out. She did so slowly. “A disc.” She laid it on the table. “It contains a diary of sorts of the past five years. Flynn and Smith will corroborate much of what’s on here. They’ll recognize their own parts in my mother’s great scheme.”

Julia clenched her jaw, took the disc and fingered it. There was only one way to find out if Cari’s story was true. She needed a look at that disc. “Why is Susan doing this?”

Again, Cari struggled to be patient. “You know very well she is an aggressive career woman. She has an agenda. A timeline. Her career has not progressed as quickly as she thought it would.” She paused. “Even though she refused to marry my father, and she gave me up, she has never made it to the top of the CIA like she expected.”

Fingering the gun, Julia thought of Conrad and Smitty’s “inside” person. It had to be Susan.

Cari shifted in her chair. “Susan has a partner outside the CIA, but I don’t know who he is. Someone high up who has promised her advancement if she makes the CIA look strong again.”

Meeting Cari’s gaze across the table, Julia asked, “Why are you here, Cari, telling me all of this? What do you want?”

“Revenge, and a new life.” Sitting forward, she rested her arms on the table. “America is where I want to be, but I’ve realized my mother will never allow me to live here. I’m a mistake she does not want to think about. She has already refused to fulfill her end of our bargain until you, Flynn, Smith and her bosses at the CIA are out of the way. I do not believe she will fulfill it even if her plan works. And where does that leave me? Back in Germany, broke and out of work. Heinrich is dead. I have nothing to go back to.” She tapped one nail firmly on the table. “I want to stay here.”

“Get a green card, get a job, become a citizen. It’s not that hard.”

“You don’t understand,” she hissed. “I have a criminal record in my country. It is not so easy anymore to become an American with a background like mine. That’s why I needed Susan to help me. She could erase my past and give me a nice, comfortable future.”

Julia decided to skip informing Cari that by participating in Susan’s treason, she was a criminal in this country as well. It was hard to feel sympathy for her, but in some ways she did. “Why are you bringing this information to me?”

“I want you to take it to Michael Stone. He will believe you, and he will help me. My mother will be arrested and I will testify against her. The CIA’s problems will be solved.” She quirked an eyebrow. “And so will yours and Flynn’s. Susan is planning to eliminate all of you, you understand.”

She understood. No need to know if Cari’s definition of
eliminate
was the same as hers. She could see it on the younger woman’s face. “How?”

“I do not know the details. But I do know if Plan A fails, she has Plan B.”

“And what does Plan B involve?”

Smiling indulgently, Cari rose from her seat. “I’ve given you enough for now. You give that disc to Director Stone and tell him what I told you. If he agrees to give me immunity, I will testify against Susan.” She pushed in her chair. “Then I will tell you what I know about Plan B.”

As she made her way down the hallway, Julia followed. “You’re in as much danger as Flynn and I are, Cari. Susan will eliminate you too, if she believes you are a threat. Why don’t you come with me right now and we’ll go see Director Stone. You can tell him in person what’s going on and walk him through the information on this disc.”