The Seven Year Itch (31 page)

BOOK: The Seven Year Itch
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Chapter 49

 

“All
the great things are simple, and many can be expressed in a single word:
freedom; justice; honor; duty; mercy; hope…” ~ Winston Churchill

 

J.J
. touched her pocket again and looked
at Tony, her eyes confessing her intentions before she spoke. Tony shook his
head, his eyes pleading, begging her not to go through with it. She could
refuse, walk away, and her life would be better. Problem was, J.J. had a
realization in that moment. She wanted something else, something better than...
better
.

She sighed deeply, then responded. “Oh no, I’m fine,” she
said. “I forgot where I put my key. It’s in my purse. Getting forgetful in my
old age.”

Freeman nodded and smiled. “Ohhh, I understand. Anyway, to
continue our discussion, yes,
head up
.
Each agency involved is providing one representative. The FBI has lead on all
domestic issues. The Agency has lead on overseas activities, with exception of
those directly involving military personnel, which will be handled by DIA. Are
we understood?”

“Yes, sir. But the Agency doesn’t really play well with
others,” J.J. said, as they neared the conference room door.

Freeman stopped and turned to them as he placed his hand on
the door knob. He whispered, “I know. But you’ve got find a way to work it
out.” He locked his gaze on J.J. “If you’re capable of clearing Jack, you’re
capable of cooperating with the CIA for the good of this country.”

Her lips parted in surprise.

“Now let’s get inside. Everyone is waiting.”

“Everyone?” Tony said.

Freeman turned the knob and pushed the door open.

“Come in so I can introduce you to your new team. Everyone
meet Special Agents Antonio Donato and J.J. McCall.”

Tony led the duo across the threshold, and her eyes circled
the room
  
absorbing all the unfamiliar
faces until her gaze locked on his. She’d
 
plunged straight into her own personal and professional hell.

J.J. gasped as her heart plummeted through the seven floors
beneath them, she felt woozy.

Tony caught her arm to stabilize her. “You okay?” he
whispered.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine,” she replied in an equally hushed
tone.

Meanwhile, as she got her bearings, Freeman moved to the head
of the conference room, inviting Tony and J.J. to take the two seats flanking
his. He remained standing to speak.

“If you saw the six o’clock news last night, I’m sure these
two need no introduction.”

Everyone laughed as the two culprits smiled sheepishly.

“Welcome to Task Force
Phantom
Hunter
.” Freeman said. “Now, if we can go around the room so everyone
can introduce themselves?”

The first to respond was a dark-haired, doe-eyed,
Italian-to-Greek bombshell sitting to Tony’s right. “Hello everyone. Gianna
Campioni. I’m with DIA and have been working counterintelligence and force
protection issues for the past ten years.”

Tony’s entire face lit up when he heard her name, which did
not escape J.J.’s notice.

“La vostra famiglia Siciliana?” he asked her, his Italian
sounding better than it had since she’d met him.

“Si, mio padre,” she responded, her voice floating as if on a
cloud. When Tony finally remembered J.J. was sitting across the table eyeing
him with a lethal stare, he mouthed, “She’s Sicilian. Her father.”

J.J. rolled her eyes.

“Glad to be part of the team. Looking forward to working with
all of you,” she said, eying Tony as if to direct her message toward him and
him only.

In the seat next to Gianna sat the next team member. NSA J.J.
guessed. He looked like the child Steve Urkel and Pee Wee Herman would produce
if men could mate and bear children. He ran his hand across his moussed-back
mane and pushed his over-sized frames securely onto the bridge of his nose.

“I’m Walter Lowenstein . . . with No Such Agency,” he joked,
nearly snorting himself into a coma. More sound funneled through his nose than
his mouth. “I’ve been with NSA’s cyber counterintelligence unit for the past
eight years.”

Last but not least—him. His smug smile spread half way across
the room as he stood to introduce himself and ensure everyone could absorb the
essence of him in all of his chocolate glory. No sooner than he reached the
full upright position did Tony’s jaw drop. It appeared that he finally
recognized the man from the picture in J.J.’s living room. He snapped his head
toward J.J. who could only shake hers and shrug.
It’s not as if I could’ve planned it
, she thought.
And you have your nerve after making goo-goo
eyes with
Missa
Thanga
over
there
. From what J.J. could see, Gianna had nearly exploded with orgasm at
the sight of Tony.

J.J. gripped her chair and braced herself as the sound of his
voice had been known to transform her to mush, and J.J. mush would not be
professional for an agent leading a task force.

“Hello, all. My name is Grayson Chance,” he announced, his
voice oozing a velvet tenor. Then he stared at the object of his affection.
“But you can call me Six.”

Her skin tingled but did not itch, warning her more was at
work than her lie detector capabilities.

“I’m CEG—Counterespionage Group. I’ve been working
counterintelligence and CE issues for fifteen years, including a couple of
tours at Moscow station. And this will be my second chance with Agent McCall,”
he said, feigning a Freudian slip. “I mean...my second time
working with
Agent McCall.”

She surveyed the floor for any sign of a hole she might be
able to dive into head first.

“Okaaaay,” said Director Freeman, eying J.J. with his
eyebrows raised. “I have a meeting to attend on the Hill. I’m sure you can all
take it from here. I expect great work.”

He walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.

“Hmmm...
carry on
!
Best idea I’ve heard all day, right Agent McCall?”

Every eye in the room turned toward her, waiting for her
reaction to the not-subtle flirt. “He’s such a…
kidder
,” she replied.

Translation: asshole
.

She stood to make an announcement that would end her misery,
at least for the day. “As you can all imagine, Agent Donato and I have a fair
bit of paperwork to submit before the day’s end. So let’s say we adjourn this meeting
until 9:00 a.m. Monday?”

Everyone looked around the room, shrugged, and then nodded
their heads in agreement.

“Great! We’ll meet here first thing Monday. We have a
difficult task ahead of us. Please come prepared to discuss your agency’s
reporting.”

Gianna and Walter led the pack out the door with Tony and
J.J. straggling behind. Perhaps out of a desire to take one last look, J.J. had
the fool notion to glance back at Six. He hung back in his cocky stance, his
hungry eyes feasting on J.J. as if she was seasoned and seared au jus.

“Agent McCall, may I speak to you for a sec?” Six asked, in
the sexy way he asked for shit.

J.J. paused before questioning what harm a quick word or two
could do. It would give her the perfect opportunity to tell Six there was a new
sheriff—or FBI agent—in town. Tony wouldn’t go far with Six in the room, at
least she hoped he wouldn’t.

J.J. turned to Tony. “I’ll be out in a
minute
. And just a
minute
,”
she emphasized.

“All right,” Tony said, hesitant to leave the room. “I’ll be
waiting for you
out here
.” He pointed
at his watch. “Don’t forget we have a deadline.”

“I’m on it!” she said, comforted by his concern. When the
door shut she snapped her head toward Six and hissed, “What is it, Six? I’ve
got work to do!”

“Awww, why you gotta be like that, J.J.?” he sang in his
usual sexy serenade. “Why haven’t you returned my calls? Didn’t you miss me?”

She replied with stone silence; he could take her quiet
defiance however he chose to. Her glare shanked him with jagged daggers if he
needed a clue.

“Well,” he said, invading her body bubble, standing so close
she could tell him the day and hour he bought her favorite hypnotic scent,
which he no doubt wore for the sole purpose of tormenting her. “I think it’s
only fair to warn you that I don’t really give a damn about this case, although
you know I’ll excel at my job. I can’t help it.”

J.J. rolled her eyes.

“I came back for one thing and only one thing—you.”

She waited for the itch, any sensation to remind her of the liar
she knew him to be.

Nothing.

No matter. Just because he came back for her didn’t mean his
intentions were honorable. This was Six after all.

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you but I’m not avail—”

At once, his mouth lunged into hers, dancing a slow and easy
drag. She struggled to fight him off but her lips and body waved the white flag
about five seconds after they touched. By the time she regained consciousness
and pressed her hand against his chest to force him backward, the door had
opened.

“J.J. you about . . .” Tony froze, paralyzed by the sight of
J.J. in Six’s arms, his lips parting from hers. “Uhhhhh . . . I can see you’re
not...
ready
yet. I’m just gonna head
back to the office and get started,” he said, storming away in a huff.

“Six! What the hell’s wrong with you?” She pointed to the
door as if she was kicking him out of her house . . . again. “Get out!”

“Hmph. I see you have some unfinished business to take care
of,” he said coolly as he pimped toward the door. He glanced over his shoulder
and winked. “I’ll leave for now, but baby, handle your business, so I can
handle mine. Because I’m back—
for good
.”

J.J. groaned as she watched him leave, wondering how he could
create so much chaos in a little less than five minutes. It was Six’s way, bursting
into J.J.’s life like a human tornado, powerful and equally destructive. She
collapsed in a chair, threw her head back, and looked to the heavens. Then she
slipped the gold-plated badge from her leather belt and eyed that powerful yet
graceful eagle once again.

“God,” she said. “I love your sense of humor...but this is so
not funny
.”

Her mouth began to salivate as she thought about the drink
she wanted but couldn’t have. She reached into her purse to get a couple sticks
of Trident to relieve the urge when she felt an old mini-fridge bottle of
Smirnov left from a trip to the New York office several months ago. She
preferred the mini bottles. They were just enough to soothe the nerves, never
enough to get fall-out-of-the-chair intoxicated. That’s all she needed.

She exhaled and mumbled under her breath. “Why Six? Why now?”

Sunnie, who just happened to be passing on her way to drop
off some files to Wendell, stuck her head in the door a minute later. She
noticed J.J. sitting alone. “Hey! Is everything okay in here?”

J.J. choked past the heat in her throat and turned to Sunnie
with a pasted on smile. “I’m...
fine
,
Sunnie. Just fine.”

One step forward. Two steps back.

Stay
tuned for the next exciting installment in the series…

Son Of
A
Itch

A
J.J. McCall Novel

S.D. Skye

 

On the lam from the FBI, the
ICE Phantom
continues with plans to
defect to Moscow but not before seeking revenge on J.J. McCall. Meanwhile the
FBI commences Task Force
Phantom Hunter
, a team ordered by
Director Russell Freeman to flush out suspected illegals within the U.S.
Intelligence Community—and not a moment too soon. A listening device found
embedded in the White House Situation Room walls, implanted by an agent of the
Russian Intelligence Services, takes lie-detecting FBI Agent J.J. McCall and
her cohorts’ next mole hunt to the highest echelons of the President’s staff.
J.J. and her co-case agent lead the motley crew while she struggles to deal
with her alcoholism, juggles conflicting feelings for Tony and Six, and bumps
heads with an egotistical Secret Service agent whose jurisdictional stonewalling
complicates her every effort to identify the culprit.

 
 
 
 
 
 

Prologue

 

M
ist crawled through the darkness as the sound of revenge echoed
with Lana Michaels’ every step. Her body had teetered on the edge of collapse
ever since she broke free from the hospital. She’d grown tired of riding the
metro, looking over her shoulder, flinching at each splashed puddle as cars
passed through the side streets. Still, she kept her pace swift and determined,
tightening her paper-thin jacket around her neck as the chill wind wrapped her
in a shivering blanket. Cold to the bone, she pressed through the fog, ready
for battle. Nothing would quench her insatiable thirst…nothing except that
bitch’s tears.

J.J. McCall had become a hard target. The Bureau would be
expecting Lana to seek revenge on her given the death of her one true love,
Jake McGee. The director would ensure she had protection and a detail of
Special Support Group personnel tailing her to ensure Lana kept her distance.
Lana’s new, softer target would be easier to penetrate and his death would
certainly inflict more pain.

For too many years, Lana had labored in virtual isolation,
sacrificed her body, and risked her freedom, all to end up with nothing, thanks
to that meddling wench. Lana’s future would no longer culminate into her
idealized hero’s welcome in the Motherland; rather she’d grind through her days
and nights lurking in the shadow to elude justice in the other land.

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