Jae's Assignment (2 page)

The window had been previously rigged to open in the event he needed to get out in a hurry and tonight it was his emergency escape route.

Hiking his six-foot frame up, he climbed out of the window and closed it behind him.

Over the past five years, Trevor had rehearsed several routes in the event his cover created by the FBI’s witness protection program was blown. And it looked like that day had come.

Chapter Two

Jae loved coming home to Richmond, Virginia. Although she now lived in Alexandria, it was home nonetheless.

Everything was familiar and welcoming, even the smell of her father’s homemade berry wine. From the dining room, she glanced out into the kitchen and smiled at the stove where four large pots sat cooling. When she saw her father coming up from the basement, he sent her a wink.

He’d perfected the right balance of his homemade sangria. Soon, he would be sound asleep at the kitchen table with his decades-old tasting cup dangling from his hand.

Jae had come home for the week to host her younger sister Rhonda’s bridal shower. She’d be staying through the following weekend for the wedding. As maid of honor, it was her job to plan the shower.

Sitting beside Ronnie, which was Rhonda’s nickname, Jae noticed her younger sister was glowing as she helped fill the small party favor boxes with butter mints. They were just two years apart in age and Jae was delighted that Ronnie was marrying a man she had met in the eighth grade.

Jae’s oldest sister, Nina, was already married. She was also an opinionated know-it-all and always had been. Jae struggled to mask a frown.

There were times when Nina got on Jae’s nerves; actually, it was
most
of the time. She just couldn’t shut up. Also helping with the favors were their cousins, Kim and Tarsha.

Unfortunately, they made a receptive audience for Nina as she teased a bashful Ronnie about her upcoming wifely duties.

Jae tuned out their giggling and squeals. To say anything in Ronnie’s defense would turn the conversation to her single status. Though, once they were through teasing Ronnie, the sisters and cousins turned their attention to her anyway. She wished they’d change the damn subject.

But that was not to be. It started with Kim’s sly remark about her age.

Sending Kim a frown, Jae said, “I’m totally happy with my single life, thank you very much, and I don’t think thirty-four is old.” Knowing they were all watching her, she added, “And you guys just stop right now. You’re not going to start in on me with that business.”

Next it was Tarsha’s turn. “Um, if I recall, single life is the pits. So, come on Jae, how many times a month are you going to the market for your solitary dinner entrée?”

At least six times
. “Tarsha, didn’t I hear you complaining to Mama about your hubby Allen’s work schedule and how he’s never home? Guess you’re eating a few solitary entrées yourself.” Jae glanced down at her cell phone on the table, hoping it would ring so she could get out of this conversation before it got into another heated squabble. The last time that happened, her mother threatened to run them out into the backyard and turn the hose on them. She’d done that before.

Ring, damn it!
Somebody. Anybody. She’d be glad if one of her teammates called with some outlandish tale.

“Jae, whatever happened with that young man you were seeing?” her mother, Elaine, asked coming in from the kitchen. “Oh, I’ve forgotten his name now.”

“Byron,” sung out her sisters and cousins.

“We just dated a few times and, well, nothing happened with him, Mama.” When her cell phone rang, Jae jumped, delighted to be saved from further explanation. Excusing herself from the table, she scooted her chair back and walked through the kitchen and out onto the back porch.

Having recognized the private number of her boss, Special Agent in Charge Luke Grainger, Jae didn’t think this was the time to let her family know what she really did for a living. Better they continue to believe she worked as a secretary for a nonprofit agency instead of as a tactically trained special agent for the FBI. She couldn’t take it if someone from her family was hurt because of her.

“This is Jae,” she answered.

“I know you’re off this week, JR, but I need you for a special assignment,” Grainger said. He addressed her as he did each of his team members, by her initials. “And, you’re the closest geographically,” he added.

An assignment! Yes!

Jae smiled broadly. She was getting a reprieve. “Sure,” she said then listened as he gave her the particulars of the assignment. She didn’t need to write it down. She memorized it. “Okay, a simple extraction, and the target’s name?” she asked just as everyone spilled out onto the back porch.

Jae heard Grainger say she already knew the person she needed to make contact with and that she needed to get him to a safe location. She almost dropped her smart phone when he repeated the name, Dr. Trevor Grant.

Good Lord, him again
, she groaned inwardly.

She listened as he repeated himself, adding it was her priority to get Grant to the appointed safe location and reiterated she was not to speak to anyone but him about the assignment.

With all eyes on her with obvious interest and speculation, Jae pasted a sultry smile on her face as she recovered. “Well, okay. I’ll handle everything, sweetie.” He’d told her to make her ETA twenty-one hundred hours. Nine o’clock that evening. “Oh, that sounds great. So, I’ll see you in a little while then.”

Jae continued with the sultry look as she heard Grainger say, “Whatever and um, see ya, JR, you got that…see ya,” before hanging up.

Frowning, at what he’d said, Jae disconnected the call and was immediately besieged with questions with Ronnie leading the charge. Smiling, Jae said, “Gotta go.”

As she went inside she could hear Ronnie saying, “Sweetie.” Jae could feel their curious eyes following her.

Once inside the kitchen Jae’s smile disappeared. There was nothing to smile about when any assignment could kill her. She’d done this type of thing many times before, but this was the first time one was so close to her parents’ home.
Why is Grant in Virginia?
she wondered. She was sure he’d be sitting in a prison cell with all of that information about him she’d turned over to Grainger weeks ago.

Jae tiptoed over to her sleeping father. She kissed the top of his balding head and removed the old cup dangling from his hand before heading upstairs to shower and change.

* * * * *

An hour later, at eight o’clock in the evening, Jae was on I-95 heading toward Petersburg. According to Grainger, she was to meet up with Grant and escort him to a safe house. There, she’d turn him over to another agent and leave.

Well aware of the speed limits in Richmond, she eased up off the gas. The last thing she needed was to get pulled over for speeding. She focused on her task instead.

Silently, she counted off her inventory—one Glock handgun, .40-caliber with three spare magazines, backup Glock, a fully charged satellite linked smart phone, a large bag of barbeque potato chips, and a thirty-two-ounce bottle of water. The bag of chips and bottle of water on the passenger seat wasn’t regulation issued but everything else was.

Jae was coming up on her seven-year anniversary as a special agent and she took pride in being the best. She’d excelled in all of her trainings and field assignments at Quantico. She was a skilled investigator and criminologist. She had mastered firearm training and could hold her own in hand-to-hand combat, made easier with her expertise in martial arts, specifically tae kwon do.

She was ready to move up within the Bureau. At the same time she didn’t want to leave her fellow team members. They were her brothers, her comrades, and her friends. Pushing the sadness away, she focused on driving.

She loved this stretch of road and had to rein in her desire to let her Mustang do what it could. Thrill her. “What else do I have besides work to excite me?” she said, grinning as she pressed down on the gas pedal.

She recalled longing to be on the open road in her one-year-old Mustang GT, 5.0 convertible when she worked undercover in Dr. Grant’s office. The FBI had given her a twelve-year-old sedan in need of new shocks. In contrast, her Mustang GT had all the frills.

Jae knew how women her age were always complaining about their unfulfilling single lives. She guessed none of them had ever driven a fast convertible, top down on a sunny day and on an open stretch of road. Jae would also agree that she was in the same boat as some of those women because a fast jaunt down I-95 was as close as she’d come to having a heart-stopping orgasm in…
how long has it been?

When her cell phone rang, Jae activated the hands-free device in her ear.

It was Grainger requesting an update on her ETA. She told him twenty minutes, to which he rattled off the 10-4 code indicating he understood then reminded her of protocol and hung up.

Her attention shifted to a car keeping up a steady pace with her. It was a sedan with darkly tinted windows. It was a run-of-the-mill sedan. It could have passed for one from their FBI fleet or it could have been a couple going out on a date.

Accelerating, she crossed over two lanes and the sedan also accelerated and copied her maneuver. Jae was no fool. The driver of the sedan could be following her.

Knowing the road well, she mentally calculated her speed and the traffic. She already knew the lanes would narrow from three to two lanes a hair short of an exit.

Speeding up to veer off I-95, she took the exit and cleared the ramp. She handled the car so well she didn’t even burn the rubber on her new tires. To her way of thinking, the tires needed to be broken in anyway. The sedan didn’t stand a chance of catching up with her, not now when she was on full alert as she drove down a side street and pulled up her GPS. She’d decided to find an alternative route to and from the hotel where Dr. Grant was staying, just to be on the safe side.

That’s when a troubling thought came to her.

If someone was following her that meant someone might know about her assignment.

* * * * *

Trevor hung up the telephone located in the atrium of the Clarkston Hotel lobby. He ran a hand across the back of his neck. He still wasn’t used to the short haircut he now sported. The hair hiding his face and the eyeglasses that he didn’t need had all been a part of the persona created by the witness protection program.

He’d tried to reach his FBI contact again, who’d previously assured him that someone would arrive and get him to a safe location. He was told the agent’s name was JR.

Trevor closed his eyes briefly then immediately snapped them open again. He knew if he kept them closed any longer, he’d fall asleep. He was that exhausted. He had been on the run since the night his office and lab were destroyed in an explosion supposedly caused by a gas leak. It was a lie. His office was one floor above the sports medicine department and there was nothing there that contained gas. He was just thankful there were no injuries to any staff members or patients. This was a nightmare.

Once again he was a sitting duck, always looking over his shoulder. He’d been doing that for so long he had a permanent stiff neck. Right now he was keeping an eye out for anyone bearing a resemblance to Myers and Jones. At the same time, he was looking for JR whoever that was.

Crossing the hotel lobby, Trevor blended in with a group of Friday night party seekers as they filled up the jazz lounge located just off the lobby. He found a seat at the bar where he could see the hotel entrance from the mirror behind the bar. He ordered a beer although he knew he shouldn’t. The beer might make him even sleepier. Asking the bartender if he could store his backpack behind the bar for safekeeping while he waited for someone, Trevor was glad when he agreed, then thanked the young man by sliding him a couple of bills

He watched the bartender fill patrons’ orders and noticed everyone was in a jovial mood. He hadn’t been in a good mood or on a date in a very long time.

He missed his life…his former life, that is. He remembered the simple things like hanging out with his younger brother, Greer, or listening to his sisters’ incessant talking about everything. But he knew the day would come when his cover as a researcher would end.

He longed for the person he used to be. He longed for the yesterdays when he and Greer would shoot basketball hoops or watch Godzilla flicks on Saturday afternoons, munching snacks.

But Trevor also longed for his girlfriend Gina because when he’d traded in his former life to protect his family, he’d lost Gina too.

He regretted not getting around to telling her that he’d loved her.
Stupid fool!

He was so deep in thought he hadn’t noticed the foam on his beer had started to settle and the bartender was waiting for payment. “Sorry,” he mumbled over the painful knot that formed in his throat. He extracted a few bills from his jacket pocket and gulped his beer down. It didn’t help because the knot of regret remained lodged in his throat.

Glancing in the mirror behind the bar he saw many more patrons coming into the jazz lounge. There were couples holding hands, two men in business suits exchanging handshakes, and a beautiful African American woman with enough curves to stop traffic. When two men walked in behind her, Trevor caught them openly ogling her derriere and making offensive hand gestures. He hoped neither one of those jerks was his contact.

In the time it took to set his glass down and glance up into the mirror again, he saw that one of the men who had been behind the beautiful woman was now doubled over, holding his stomach tightly and gasping. Thinking the guy got a sudden upset stomach Trevor was just about to alert the bartender when he caught the innocent smile on the woman’s face as she flexed her right hand.

Chuckling to himself, he guessed she had punched the guy in the gut. “Good for you, sweetheart,” he murmured as the house lights dimmed in preparation for the live jazz band and the singers.

It didn’t take long for him to become captivated by the soulful music. The melody was of longing and forgiveness and drew several couples to the dance floor.

Sadly, he thought the last time he’d danced was with Gina. He loved dancing with her even when they didn’t have music. But that was another lifetime ago.

He felt like a chump sitting there wondering when his contact would arrive. Impatiently, he glanced up at the mirror again.
I don’t need a protector.
Hell, he was a Marine. He could take care of himself.