Virtually Hers (12 page)

Hell moved closer to the protected panel. Could that thing really stop remote viewing? During training, she’d been told of the existence of certain devices but had never seen them.

“Double agents,” she guessed.

He nodded. “COMCEN has operatives who are different personas in different groups. In this room, he or she can perform their communications effectively and give SITREPs of their assignments without confusing the various departments. It’s very streamlined and effective. And Eight Ball takes care of what information goes where.”

Then Eight Ball, the crazy computer, was even more powerful than she’d thought. She arched her brows in mockery. “You trust a computer that masquerades as a surfer dude with all that information? Does he use that same persona when he’s giving the situation reports to the higher-ups?”
That
she wanted to see, some big brass’s face when Eight Ball addressed him with “Dude, here’s the SITREPs for the day.”

Jed’s lips quirked in amusement. “I think he programmed himself to add ‘sir’ after his ‘dude’ just to be respectful.”

Helen chuckled. She talked to Eight Ball a lot but hadn’t really seen him in his full capacity. She looked over her shoulder again. “He must be quite the supercomputer if he’s the one with all the data that runs this place.”

Wow. She was standing in the heart of COMCEN. And Jed had said she would have personal access to it one of these days. The fact that he’d brought her in here couldn’t just be coincidental.

“Eight Ball is actually only a program within a Mother Eight Ball. There are different versions of Eight Ball running this place. A supercomputer for a supersoldier-spy,” Jed said softly.

She turned back to him. Once again, he’d managed to read her thoughts even though they weren’t in virtual reality. “Why am I here? To watch you get debriefed?”

His hold tightened slightly. “I need your trust in me,” he said simply. “Making you aware of what’s going on will build that foundation. Letting you see the many intertwining projects will give you a quicker understanding than reading situation reports and files.”

But the message in his light eyes wasn’t as simple. He was giving her that look again, the one that somehow managed to make her feel naked. His gaze swept lower and settled on her jeans.

Helen breathed in sharply. Dammit, he was right. Every time he looked at her there, she started to think about his hand. And his hand was connected to how he’d stimulated her, not just in the elevator, but during their virtual reality sessions. He knew he could affect her this way, especially now. She wanted to hitch up her jeans and run away.

“I think it’s a little too late to gain my full trust,” she said tightly, refusing to shift her stance. Her eyes challenged him as she pulled her hand out of his. “Information is nice. Knowing all the details of what’s going on is helpful. But that won’t make me any more agreeable to the trigger.”

He lifted his gaze. “But it’ll reinforce it.”

Her eyes widened. “What will?”

“The information. The details. You want to know what’s going on, you said. So I’m going to show it to you with fair warning. Knowledge will reinforce that trigger.”

She frowned. “How so?”

His debriefing couldn’t possibly do that. She didn’t like the way he smiled, like the Cheshire Cat who knew too much and not sharing.

“You can’t have it both ways, Elena. You want answers, you’ll have to stay with me. Spending more time with me means giving me the opportunity to strengthen that trigger. By staying now, you’re consciously giving me permission to reinforce it.”

“I’m not going to play your mind games,” Helen told him grimly. He’d called her
Elena.
“What if I choose to leave now?”

He nodded. “Of course you can leave. We can have our appointment later.”

“Then why are you telling me this?”

“Because I want you to trust me.”

“That’s the most ridiculous way to get it!”

His direct gaze was unsettling, as if he could see right inside her. She had never felt so self-conscious with any male before.

“Is it?” he asked softly. “There’s no reason for me lie to you now. If I can’t tell you, I’ll just say so. That way, you’ll always know where you stand with me.”

“Right,” she drawled sarcastically, wrapping her arms across her chest. “If you think I’m going to take your word about anything you tell right now, there’s a bridge I have for sale.”

“I don’t expect immediate capitulation,” he told her.

“There, you see? Capitulation is not a word that would make me trustful of you, Mr. McNeil.”

His eyes gleamed with sudden amusement. He’d known she’d jump all over that word, dammit. Instead of answering, he moved from her. She watched his back, frustrated.

It would feel damn good to throw his bait in his face and walk out of—she looked around again—and sighed. He knew damn well she wouldn’t. This was the Bat Cave, for heaven’s sakes. He knew she was dying to see everything he could show her. Questions hung in the air between them.

Yes, she was now connected to him in ways she couldn’t explain to anyone. Yes, he was manipulating her deliberately, getting behind her defenses and planning God only knew what else about her operative status. Yes, she was turned on by him; there was no denying
that
. And finally, yes, she was really his supersoldier-spy.

Hell couldn’t say no to him. “Where do you want me to sit?” she asked quietly.

He walked to the space behind the oddly shaped table in the middle of the room. “If you sit there,” he said, pointing to a small desk she hadn’t noticed, “you’ll be able to see most of the screens I’m using. I’ll turn on the monitor to your right. There’s several earphones connected to the module. Use the one blinking each time I switch.”

“Each time you switch?” she asked, nonplussed.

“Each time I switch channel,” he explained. “You’ll see what I mean when it’s happening. And Elena, no interruptions, please. You can question later.”

She resisted the urge to stick a tongue out at him. Barely. She turned to the desk he’d pointed to.

“Yes, Master,” she replied, affecting a lisp, shuffling her feet in imitation of Marty Feldman’s famous role of Igor as she limped toward the desk.

Jed didn’t see her act since his back was toward her. She watched him fiddling with the control panels from where she sat. Her turn to study him. Her turn to figure out what made him tick.

“Dude, I thought you’d never turn on the voice control so I could speak,” Eight Ball’s “voice” suddenly filled the room. “You guys are no fun.”

“Exactly,” Jed said. “Operation updates, please.”

Screens started turning on left and right. There were whirrs of activity in different parts of the room. From where she was, Hell figured out several satellite calls being made and fax machines coming alive.

“Tsk. Hunger and sexual tension make two very frustrated human beings. High probability of—”

“Eight Ball, operation updates for now.” Jed reached over and touched the screen to his right. “We want to let Hell see the business side of you, don’t we?”

Several maps lit up on the electronic wall. The screens at her desk started flashing messages and Helen checked where they were coming from. All over the world, it seemed.

“Of course, sir.” Eight Ball’s voice turned into a snotty uppity British butler accent. “We will indeed show the vast project being undertaken by COS Command in an orderly fashion. They’re already waiting for your report, sire.”

“I’m ready.”

Immediately a few other screens came on, one showing a man, and another a woman. Both looked to be in their mid-forties. Helen didn’t recognize them.

“They’ve already contacted us on Cummings, confirming his death,” the man said immediately, without greeting.

Helen watched as Jed appeared to connect something to his wristwatch. “I took pictures of the sailing vessel for the file. Eight Ball?”

“Downloading them, sir. Analysis within the hour.”

The woman smiled. “I see we’ve got Lord Eight Ball with us today.”

“That’s supposed to be the business side of him,” Jed said dryly. “Better not give him a title. He might get ideas.”

“
Pshaw
,” the computer said, followed by a sniff that gave Helen an image of some dour-looking balding British actor on some British TV show.

The man on the screen shook his head. “Retrieving the SEED was important but we’re now worried about what Deutsche International was trying to decode when Helen Roston showed up.”

Helen sat up straighter at the sound of her name. That was her first assignment; retrieving the SEED was the first test of her remote-viewing abilities and the serum. She’d had no problem locating the decoding device. With Hades’ help in virtual reality, she added. She looked at the back of the dark head in front. Jed, she amended.

“Agent Roston destroyed the laptop they were using and T. is still in there. She might find out something,” Jed said. “It
is
strange for a think-tank that’s associated with peace foundations to buy a hot market item like the SEED and use it. I agree we should try to find out what they’re after.”

“Is that your next avenue of action?” the woman asked.

“No. It’s more important right now to locate and retrieve the different missing weapons and devices.”

“Jed, we’re pleased that you finally caught up with Jack Cummings. It wouldn’t have been good for us if he had been successfully smuggled into Russia,” the man said. “He’d have gotten very wealthy by selling everything he knew to the highest bidder.”

“His price wasn’t that different from his wife’s,” Jed said. “Freedom.”

“Yes, but they didn’t choose to steal Intel and weapons for freedom, Agent McNeil. This network was deliberately set up to stay in place for a long time so that their agents could work themselves high in our system,” the woman said. “In fact, they’d created their own Virus System, infecting parts of our government from the inside.”

“Yes, they’ve taken various facets of the Virus program but with a big difference. They’re after our technology and secrets. They sustain themselves through profiting from what they can steal.”

“Point taken, Agent McNeil,” the man said, “but the problem remains. They’re in our system. The only thing going for us is that we’ve caught on and are trying to eliminate the problem.”

“But the damage done is tremendous,” the woman added. “Stopping Agent Cummings took a little pressure off. He had very high clearance. His quick disappearance, along with other key personnel, after Washington’s scandal came into light has surely warned their shadowy counterparts to move faster, don’t you agree, Jed?”

“Yes,” Jed said.

“It was fortunate then that Miss Roston was able to locate Agent Cummings, wasn’t it?” she continued.

Helen stiffened at her name being mentioned again. It had been her fault, of course, that Jack Cummings had managed to escape the first time, during the initial operation in Frankfurt. Jed had used up some precious time to help her out. She bit her lower lip.

“I didn’t have any doubt that she wouldn’t,” Jed said.

“From reviewing the video feeds, she should have canceled the man instead of tying him up,” the man said, his voice getting a bit sharper. “Then you wouldn’t have had to go down there and finish the job for her. Have you and the other commandos addressed this problem internally?”

Helen chewed on her lip some more. Uh, no, since she’d sucker punched Number Nine and had distracted everybody instead.

“We didn’t have any problem with her decision,” Jed replied enigmatically.

Helen frowned. They didn’t? Or was her monitor just being protective of her?

“You should assess the damage at your end,” Jed continued.

“All damage control is our business, Jed,” the woman said smoothly, “even yours.”

“There’s nothing going on at my end that’s of any danger to my people,” Jed said. “As long as you can keep those eight other departments off our backs, we’ll find those weapons. I’m not comfortable about their being constantly updated on the operations.”

“They all have a hand in creating your supersoldier-spy, Agent McNeil,” the man pointed out. “A little feedback can’t hurt.”

“It irks them that they lost.” He paused. “To a woman. And it irks them that she belongs to me.”

“To COS Command,” the woman corrected. There was another pause, then the woman pressed, “She’s COS Command’s, right?”

“She’s an independent contractor,” Jed said, “who’s agreed to work with the Viruses. I’m her monitor and trainer. Therefore, she’s mine.”

“That’s a very strange way of looking at it since she signed the contract with COS Command,” the woman pointed out.

“Read the contract,” Jed said softly.

“I think I will.”

Helen looked on with interest. She wasn’t sure what was happening but her being at CCC looked to be more interesting than a mere contract job. Now she wanted to reread her contract too.

“Macedonia for you next, then,” the man said, changing the subject.

Jed nodded. “Yes.” He leaned forward and pressed some buttons on the panel. “Listen to this uplink from Hawk McMillan, our asset there.”

One of the earphones started blinking and Helen picked them up and inserted the buds into her ears.

“It’s partly in Serbian,” Jed’s voice came on over the channel. “He’s talking to Dragan Dilaver. Eight Ball is providing the translated transcript on your screen now. Read the highlighted parts as you listen to the conversation.”

Helen looked at the screen to her left as a word processing document appeared. Without waiting, she used the mouse to click on the start window prompter. She was getting the hang of this debriefing business.

Two men were speaking in the recording, sometimes in English, sometimes in Serbian. She knew that Dragan Dilaver was a notorious drug- and human-trafficker in Macedonia. It was easy to pick out his gravelly voice as he spoke with the undercover American. She wasn’t particularly good at Serbian, but it was similar enough to Russian in parts that she caught the gist of the conversation. Weapons, women, dangerous liaisons. She followed the scrolling text on the screen, reading the parts that were highlighted as she listened in.