Operation Sheba (18 page)

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Authors: Misty Evans

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Operation Sheba
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Chapter Twenty-Six

Senator King accepted the blue Central Intelligence Agency mug full of hot coffee from Susan Richmond and followed her statuesque form across the lobby and down the hallway. Even though the area was empty, conversation between them was sparse and dealt with the usual benign issues such as the weather and their latest round of golf. While it certainly appeared that no one was within earshot, Daniel couldn’t get over the feeling of being watched and listened to, and it wouldn’t do for someone to overhear the reason he was paying CIA Headquarters a visit today.

While he had walked the building’s hallways many times over the past few years, Daniel had never stopped feeling the edge of disquiet that existed here. Even now, acid sat in the pit of his stomach and he knew he didn’t need the jolt of caffeine from the coffee he was carrying to jumpstart his nerves. The building itself was as normal as any he’d been in, but there was no mistaking the eerie feel of Spookville.

King mentally chastised himself over his unease as he and Susan entered the CTC and nodded to a few of its employees as they passed the sterile cubicles. He had every right to be here, was a part of it in his own way. But just like his first day as a freshman senator, he stood watching from the fringes in awe, like a foreigner who didn’t quite speak the language or understand the customs.

Running his left hand through his hair, he tried to bring his mental focus back to the task at hand. He had to admit to himself it wasn’t just the surroundings making him uneasy. He was about to sign off on the biggest operation of his career.

As usual, the Senator was going to have to negotiate to effect the outcome of the operation in his favor. In this case, as with many of the favors he had extended in the past, he needed the ability to take credit if the operation was a success while maintaining distance and anonymity if the operation failed.

It was an almost impossible feat to pull off.

Almost.

“Please come in and have a seat,” Susan said as she held the door open to her office and gestured Daniel through.

“Thank you, Susan.” He set his coffee on the only clear spot near the edge of her desk and unbuttoned his sport coat before sitting down.

Switching the fan on the file cabinet off, Susan pulled out her chair and sat at her desk. She looked at the man across from her, feeling a surge of excitement. Her goal was so close she could almost reach out and touch it. “This is an unexpected visit. I assume it has to do with our plan?”

The Senator nodded, steepling his fingers in front of him. His voice was firm but non-aggressive. “Your plan is sound, but there is one small…” he paused, searching for the right term, “…
a
djustment
to it I need before I can give you the go ahead.”

Susan smiled. Of course. Daniel King was the supreme negotiator and she had learned a lot from studying him over the years. Everything was negotiable according to the good senator and she agreed. Everything
was
negotiable, especially when she held the trump card.

Conrad was listening to Susan Richmond talk to the Democratic senator, Daniel King, but it took him a minute to figure out what they were talking about.

Ace and Smitty were staring at him. He stared intently at the receiver. “Don’t ask me.” He shook his head at his partners. “Just be sure you’re getting everything on tape.”

Smitty nodded and both he and Ace returned their gazes to the receiver as they heard Susan’s voice again. “Adjustment? You said you were ready to sign off on Operation: Sheba.”

Conrad sat up a little straighter and frowned. What the
hell
?

His friends’ stares turned to him again, curiosity mingled with the first inklings of fear. Something here wasn’t right and it didn’t have anything to with Julia changing the game plan.

And yet apparently it had everything to do with Julia.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Arlington

Lunch was over. The remnants of grilled butterfly pork chops, baked potatoes and spinach salad decorated their plates. Julia tossed a section of trimmed fat to Pongo. The dog snapped it out of the air and sucked it down in a gulp.

“I could use a walk,” she said to Michael, unsnapping her jeans. “As usual, you overfed me, but I enjoyed every bite.”

He’d been on the quiet side, but hadn’t said or done anything to make Julia think he was suspicious of her recent actions or mad because she’d run out on her meeting with Ben Raines. Over lunch, they’d talked about normal things…the latest e-mail virus, a gossipy scandal involving a senator and his aide, and a trip Michael was scheduled to make to London in the fall. “We could walk to the lake.”

“A walk to the lake sounds wonderful,” Julia said.

They left the dishes on the table, and Michael pulled an old Marine sweatshirt of his off a hook in the mudroom for Julia to wear. He threw on one that matched, right down to the faded letters and the holey pockets. They set off with Pongo running ahead and Michael’s security detail keeping some distance behind.

“Did Raines find something here yesterday when he searched your house?” Julia asked as they followed the trail Michael ran six days a week.

“No, the house was clean.”

“But you’re still keeping extra security?”

Michael shrugged indifferently. “I’m supposed to have them around the clock. Usually I choose not to.”

“So why is Brutus following us?”

“His name is Brad.” Another shrug. “Things still feel off.”

Julia understood that feeling quite well.

They walked in silence for a mile or so and Julia tried to enjoy the fresh spring day. The grass was green again and pink blossoms on the wild apple trees dotted the area.

Michael threw a stick for Pongo to fetch. “You know about the journalist the insurgents took hostage three days ago in Iraq?”

Julia had seen the information on a daily brief that had passed over her desk. She summarized what she remembered. “Female, works for CNBC, covering Iraq war in Baghdad. She went out on her own instead of sticking with the army unit she was covering and got nabbed. Insurgents want two prisoners released in the next forty-eight hours or they’ll behead her.”

Michael watched Pongo. “She’s not a journalist. She’s one of ours.”

She kicked at a clump of grass. “Damn. Are we going after her?”

“We’re in negotiations but Jeffries won’t give the presidential okay to go after her. They’re afraid she’ll be exposed as a CIA operator and we’ll get blowback from it.”

“So you’ve technically lost another agent.”

He rubbed his forehead as if he had a headache. “Titus is on his way back from Florida. He wants to meet with me this evening.” He glanced at her. “I think I’m about to be fired.”

Julia stopped in her tracks. “What?”

“This was the last straw.” He stopped too, but kept his gaze on Pongo. “Losing all these operators not only makes the U.S. look bad, it makes Titus look bad. He needs to put blame somewhere and I’m it.”

“But it’s not your fault.”

Michael shot her a look. “Isn’t it?”

“No,” she said. “It’s not.”

“Then who’s to blame, Abby, if not me? I’m the Director of Operations. I’m the man in charge.”

He started walking again and Julia wrestled with her conscious. She wanted to tell him, wanted to hand him the disc and papers she had stolen, but she had to start the ball rolling with Susan if she was going to make her case airtight.

So she shoved her hands in the pockets of Michael’s jacket and followed him to the lake in silence. Now she knew why he had sounded weird on the phone and had been exceptionally moody the past few days. It wasn’t all due to the fact Smitty had reappeared or her own odd behavior. This made her breathe easier, and at the same time, knowing Michael was about to be fired for Susan’s tricks, her breath seemed too thick inside her chest.

The air around the lake was chilly and Julia was grateful for the bulky warmth of the sweatshirt. She pulled its hood up over her head. Clouds were moving in from the west and it looked like a spring rain might be on the way. She watched Michael chase Pongo in and out of the water a few times, but she could see his heart wasn’t in it. They turned back to the house without walking the perimeter of the deep lake.

“If you leave the CIA,” she asked when they were halfway back to the house, “what will you do?”

Michael ran a hand through his hair and looked at the clouds gathering on the horizon. “A few months ago, the NSA offered me a job. I might look into it.”

“The National Security Agency offered you a job and you didn’t tell me?”

“When it came up, I wasn’t interested. I like what I do, you know that. Since I’ve been at the CIA, I’ve never considered anything else. Now, I may have to.”

“Who will take your place?” She already knew the answer.

“Susan most likely.” A nerve jumped above his temple. “She’s been with the Agency longer than I have and has quite a lot of experience recruiting and placing operators. She’s always wanted my job, and she’s the best candidate.”

Julia refrained from comment even though anger was spreading through her veins.

“Director Stone,” the security officer called to Michael. As Julia turned, she saw Brad picking up his pace to reach them. She instinctively moved closer to Michael and scanned the area nearby looking for a threat.

Michael had tensed too at the man’s call. “What is it?”

Brad held up his walkie-talkie. “Front gate says Susan Richmond is asking for admission.”

Michael glanced at Julia, and she felt her stomach tighten. It was as if the mention of Susan’s name had conjured her out of thin air.

Not knowing the danger she represented, Michael relaxed. He glanced at the house, fifty yards away. “Tell them to let her in.”

“She has Ben Raines and several security officers with her, sir.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

Brad glanced at Julia and back to Michael. “She claims she has an arrest warrant.”

Julia’s heart slammed into her ribs. She instinctively took a step back. “For who?”

Brad watched Michael this time. “She’s here to supervise the arrest of Abigail Quinn.”


What
?” Michael drew up to his full height and looked at Julia, a frown pulling his eyebrows down. He searched her face, questioning her with his gaze.

Julia took another step back and saw his gaze turn accusatory.

“Good God, Abby,” he said. “What have you done?”

Julia turned on her heel and started a swift pace for the house. In a few steps Michael was next to her. His hand touched her elbow, but she refused to look at him or slow down. She could hear Brad’s footsteps behind her. “I need to give you something, and then I have to go.”

His hand tightened on her elbow. His voice was low and demanding. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“I don’t have time to explain everything, but I have a disc that will explain most of it.”

They reached the back door and Julia shot through it, Pongo cutting in front of her. Michael was right behind her, protesting and insisting she stop and tell him what was going on. She ignored him, running through the kitchen and up the stairs to the bedroom where she’d left her tote bag.

“Here.” She grasped the disc and jabbed it at him when he caught up with her. Brad had followed and was standing directly behind Michael, eyeing her over Michael’s shoulder like a cat ready to pounce. She had no doubts he would tackle her to the floor if she tried to run.

Drawing in a quick breath, she decided she needed to tell Michael a condensed version of the truth. “Susan Richmond is the CIA’s traitor,” she said, removing the papers she’d stolen from Susan’s files from her bag. “She’s set all of us up in an attempt to undermine Titus and become the next director of Central Intelligence. Con and Smitty thought you were the mole and Susan led them on, planting evidence of her own misdeeds and linking it back to you for them to trace. She was using them and me to help her get rid of you.” She handed him the papers.


Con
and Smitty?” Michael’s voice fell a notch as he accepted the papers. He stilled completely. “What are you talking about?”

Truth or consequences
. Only this time it wasn’t
or
consequences, it was
and
. “Conrad Flynn is alive, Michael.”

Julia saw the enormity of what she said reflected in his face. Disbelief, confusion, anger.
Been there
, she thought. Biting the inside of her cheek, she pushed on. “He faked his death and Smitty went AWOL to help him track down the mole. Only they thought it was you. They came to me and asked for my help. I knew it wasn’t you so I only agreed because—”

“Flynn’s alive,” Michael echoed, his voice deadly soft. It wasn’t a question. Julia saw the pieces in his head snap together and flinched when his eyes narrowed at her. Anger trumped the other emotions. His voice rose, hard and unforgiving. “Conrad Flynn is fucking alive?”

Willing herself not to shrink back, Julia only nodded. It was not from fear of Michael’s anger that made her want to step back, but from what she knew would come next.

“And you knew?” He glared down at her. “You knew, and you didn’t tell me?”

Brad’s walkie-talkie buzzed. “Sir,” he interrupted. “What should I tell the guard at the gate? Ms. Richmond is pressing to come in.”

Michael ignored the security officer, his accusatory gaze burning through Julia’s skin. She tried to shut down her emotions, knowing Susan was but a few paces away from arresting her and throwing her in jail for some bogus charge. She couldn’t let her guard down and get tangled up trying to sort things out with Michael.

Yanking her Beretta out of her bag, she slid it into the waistband of her pants, and didn’t miss that Brad moved his free hand to cover his own weapon. Next she reached for her cell phone and fumbled with the buttons to turn it on.

“That’s where you’ve been the past few days and nights when you haven’t been here with me.” Michael’s voice was filled with hurt. “You’ve been with Flynn.”

Brad’s walkie-talkie buzzed again while Julia’s cell phone played its opening ring tone. The security guard stepped forward and addressed Michael again, and Julia felt her ire rise at him. She and Michael were having one of the most important conversations of their relationship and Brad was hanging on every word.

She blocked his interruption. “Tell Susan Richmond the Director is on his way back from the lake and he will meet her at the gate as soon as he returns.”

Brad drew back, a little nonplussed, and waited for Michael’s instructions.

Michael just continued to stare at her. She dropped her cell phone into her bag. “Listen, Michael,” she said, wishing her heart wasn’t breaking. She could feel it literally hurting in her chest, but she couldn’t stop to think about it. Not now. “Don’t get hung up about the Conrad thing. What he did was wrong and he knows it but he had a good reason. My name was on the list of operators Susan was having killed off. Conrad was trying to protect me, not screw you over.”

“Not screw me over?” Anger turned his face hard. “
Not screw me over?
He faked his death, and you’re telling me he didn’t screw me over?” He took a breath and paced to the balcony’s edge and back. “You lied to me.”

Julia paused and tried again to take the heat off Conrad. “This is important. That
disc
is important. Read what’s on it, but don’t tell Susan you have it. There’s a detailed log on it from a woman who’s been helping her all along. Cari Von Motz. She’s Susan’s illegitimate daughter.”

Michael’s eyebrows rose and he started to say something, but the sound of someone banging on the front door downstairs stopped him. A man yelled out his name and demanded Michael let him in.

Julia’s cell phone rang. She reached for it, but didn’t open the flap. “I have to go. I’m sorry.” She stood on her toes and kissed him softly on the mouth. His lips were granite. “I’m really sorry, Michael.”

“Abigail.” He reached for her, but she stepped toward the balcony. She flipped open the phone and heard Con’s voice in her ear. “Get the hell out of there. Susan’s coming for you.”

“Thanks for the update,” she answered, but before she could say more, Brad grabbed her from behind, wheeling her around.

The cell phone flew out of her hand, skidded on the balcony, hit the railing and dropped off to the ground below.

She clocked the security agent on the ear with her open palm and kicked him in the shin at the same time. He shifted, trying to move both left and right from the double assault, and she threw her body weight into him with all the strength she could muster, making him stumble backwards. Her hand flew to the Beretta and before the guard could draw a breath, she had the end of the gun buried in his gut. Pongo came to stand beside her, a low growl coming from his throat.

“Get your hands off me,” she said, staring up at Brad.

He let her go, stepping back with his hands up. Julia stepped to the railing, her gun still on him. Downstairs, the front door banged open and Julia could hear Susan’s group pouring into the house. Susan’s voice called out to Michael.

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