Deep cover, p.2
Deep Cover, page 2
"No. I just hate to drive in this city. Maybe someday I'll get used to it."
"I hear you. Doesn't bother me that much, though."
Kim loved to eat out and asked, "So where are we going to eat?"
"You pick. I picked the movie."
"Umm...how 'bout Chesapeake Bay Seafood House?"
"Sounds good. See you tomorrow."
Shelby hung up the phone and relaxed. Their outing would be a nice diversion from the worrisome events of the day.
CIA Headquarters
Jeb almost sighed with relief as he left the office of the head honcho of covert ops, Earl Mason. He had met with Dennis the evening before and didn't have authority to pull an operative from the field without going up the ladder. And quite frankly, Earl Mason was one scary guy.
He was strictly a REMF (Rear Echelon MFer) and Jeb accepted the title proudly. He commanded from a desk, and that was the way he liked it. Lots of power, but nice and safe. He had no intentions of getting his ass shot off or being tortured in some foreign country while the government disavowed any knowledge of him.
Walking into his office, he called Dennis. "It's a go. Earl is pulling Blue." He paused as he heard the sharp intake of breath through the phone. That had been his reaction, too.
"Why Blue?" Dennis had heard rumors of just how ruthless Blue was and the operative had a reputation for never failing, regardless of how long the mission took. It was the "ruthless" part that bothered him if there were any truth to the tales he had heard, and experience had taught him that there was always some truth in the rumor mill.
"You'll have to ask Earl that."
Dennis snorted. "Yeah right. He's real amenable to having his decisions questioned."
"My point exactly. Blue's already in place and will be meeting with Earl at ten. He told me to tell you to be standing by from eleven on."
"Thanks for going to bat for me, Jim."
"Let's just hope we solve this case real fast."
Dennis hung up the phone and issued an apology that would never be spoken aloud. I'm sorry, Shelby. This guy is probably some cold fish with dead eyes and you're stuck with him.
* * *
Kris ignored the admiring looks cast her way as she walked down the main corridor of CIA headquarters en route to a Sunday meeting with her boss. She was used to the attention - it had served her, and her employer, exceptionally well.
Kris was tall, lithe and strikingly attractive. Her black hair flowed over her shoulders and onto her back. Longish bangs in need of a trim were brushed aside, contrasting nicely with an olive complexion. High cheekbones and a full mouth gave her an almost exotic appearance, but it was her sapphire blue eyes that were her most memorable feature.
Over the years, on the few occasions that the operative had been spotted, the witness would cite mesmerizing blue eyes, but beyond that, their memory seemed to fail. Her code name was, appropriately, Blue. And it was for just that very reason that dark sunglasses usually hid her eyes from casual onlookers.
Matter of fact, the operative looked every bit the part of an executive within the agency. She wore a fashionable gray, moderately cut suit with a crisp white blouse. Tasteful gold earrings, a matching brooch and a light smattering of make up, tastefully applied, accented her attire. The handle of a black purse was slung over her right shoulder and the handle of a black leather briefcase was secured in her left hand. Kris excelled at role-playing. She had been doing it for years.
She had arrived in Washington the previous evening and had wanted to be well rested for her meeting today, but troubling thoughts had thwarted those plans and she was operating on sheer adrenaline, worry vying with curiosity.
Arriving at her destination, Kris knocked once and walked into the outer office of the Director of Strategic Planning, commonly referred to as Covert Ops. She passed the empty secretary's desk on the way to the inner office door, knowing she'd been told to report on Sunday so there would be a limited number of people around. She knocked once and the door immediately opened.
Earl backed away from the door enough to allow Kris entry, and then closed it. "Long time no see."
"I would say charmed, except that I'm not."
"That's not very friendly of you."
"What's going on, Earl? You trash an ongoing operation and call me back here at the risk of blowing my cover. What is so damned important it couldn't have waited a few more weeks?"
Earl studied the woman silently, hoping to gain the upper hand in this meeting, but the tactic had no effect on her demeanor. "We have a potential security breach and you're being reassigned here to work with one of our top analysts to get to the bottom of it."
Kris fought against reacting to the news. In her mind, there was only one worse thing that could have happened. She was a field agent, not a desk jockey.
"Potential security breach?" She raised an eyebrow to indicate her disdain for the deliberately vague language. "Do we, or don't we?"
"That's your job. You tell me." Earl handed Kris a copy of the typed report he'd gotten from Jeb and sat back in his chair while she read it.
Kris quickly read the report. The evidence was solid, but there was no proof of any wrong doing by any operative listed. "Strictly circumstantial. Could be coincidence." She wasn't the least bit pleased that her name had been included in the list of "suspects."
"Right. That's where you come in. I need you to work with the analyst and narrow that list down. I figure it should take you a couple of weeks to accurately account for each operative's location. You will have full access to copies of the satellite transmissions, where they were sent to and received from, for each person on that list. Use every other means at your disposal to verify where each one was when the assassinations went down. Best case scenario--all the names are eliminated."
"I can't accept this assignment. I'm on the list. That's a conflict of interest." Kris smiled sardonically. "Besides, what if it's me? I could stymie you at every turn."
The hairs on the back of Earl's neck stood on end. He'd considered that possibility and hoped for all of their sakes that it wasn't true. To have her as an opponent would be catastrophic.
"First off, you don't have a choice. You're the best we have, and I want you on this. Secondly, you're too smart to do anything as dumb as interfere with an investigation."
Earl returned her smile. "Nice try, Kris."
Kris bit off a retort. This would be the assignment from hell for more than one reason.
He stood up. "Dennis McNabb is standing by. He'll answer any other questions you have and set you up with the analyst. Any questions?"
"No. But I want you to know that I am accepting this assignment under duress."
"Duly noted." Earl ran a hand through his thinning gray hair. "I probably don't need to tell you that if word of this investigation gets out, it could get dicey."
Kris rolled her eyes, the action hidden behind her sunglasses. "Yeah, Earl. So what else is new?"
Earl routinely dealt with some of the most cold-blooded men and women in the world, but this one had to be the deadliest of the lot. Her ability to turn the charm on and off at will put people, himself included, at a distinct disadvantage and it wasn't a position he liked being in. Earl had pulled her because he wanted a quick resolution to this case, but he felt a pang of sympathy for the analyst she'd be working with.
Kris was thoroughly enjoying the effect she was having on Dennis. When Earl had introduced her as Blue, he'd been unable to hide his shock and his mouth had dropped open. Since she was being saddled with a desk assignment, she intended to find amusement wherever she could.
Still grinning at Dennis' reaction, Kris would've loved to know what image his mind's eye had conjured up prior to meeting her. She was well aware of the exaggerated rumors floating around headquarters regarding both her and a few of her peers.
Earl had been gone for five minutes, and Dennis was still trying to recover. And it didn't help that she sat there watching him with an unreadable smile on her face, and her eyes covered by sunglasses. You couldn't very well gauge a person if you couldn't see their eyes. Damn, Earl could've at least warned me.
Deciding to keep it brief, Dennis quickly explained how Shelby had come up with the information, totally unaware Kris had already seen the report. Finished, he said, "Um.. if you could be back here tomorrow at nine, I'll introduce you to Shelby."
Kris nodded. "I'll be here," and walked out the door.
Dennis watched her appreciatively, but knew that was all he'd ever do.
* * *
Kris paid the cab driver and walked into the Sheraton. She was completely aware of her surroundings and everyone in the immediate vicinity, although she scanned the area so unobtrusively only someone similarly trained would have noticed her scrutiny.
Satisfied, she took the elevator to the fourth floor and entered a room near the far end. Kris was emotionally and mentally exhausted. The constant stress of worrying why her assignment had been terminated and keeping her public persona in place had taken its toll. She quickly removed her suit, hanging it on one of the hangers provided. Most of her clothes were in storage at the Company's expense, and a visit was going to be required very soon if she was to blend in with the Company's support staff.
After a quick shower, Kris walked out of the bathroom and donned a bathrobe before sinking onto the bed. She called room service and ordered a chef's salad only because she knew she should eat something.
Her thoughts turned back to the events over the last three days. She wasn't the least bit happy to be back at headquarters, although her worst fears had not been realized, and that in itself was a tremendous weight lifted from her shoulders.
The analyst she would be working with had to be fairly sharp to have picked up the pattern on the assassinations. That could be both good and bad. Time would tell.
After eating, Kris checked her gun, and laid it on the nightstand next to her bed. She never went anywhere without it. It was the only friend she had. Turning off the light, the tall woman was asleep almost before she hit the pillow.
Kris jerked upright in bed, and breathed a sigh of relief when she discovered the disturbance was the phone ringing. She glanced at the clock and saw it was eleven. She answered the phone more out of curiosity than anything else, having absolutely no idea why anyone would be calling her.
"Yes."
"Your Uncle wants to talk to you."
Still brushing the cobwebs from her mind, Kris said, "You've got the wrong number."
"I don't think so Natasha Lubinyenka."
Kris' head began throbbing as she squeezed the phone until her knuckles turned white, matching her equally pale face. She felt like she'd been punched in the solar plexus and couldn't breathe. No. Not now. Not here. Not while I'm under such close scrutiny.
CHAPTER 2
SHELBY SLEEPILY EXTENDED an arm from beneath the covers and turned off the alarm clock on her nightstand. Bright green eyes suddenly popped open when she realized it was finally Monday. Shelby smiled to herself, knowing this was the first time she could ever remember being glad the weekend was over.
Tossing back the covers she sat up, wondering for what had to be the hundredth time whether Jeb had decided to assign her the case. On the few occasions that she uncovered data concerning a field operative, Dennis had forwarded it to Central Affairs and she relished the challenge the case would offer, but was uneasy, too.
Shelby had an excellent memory, and had recognized some of the names on the list, but five stood out starkly in her mind. Atlas, Blue, Jet, Roman, and Silver. She had seen each of those names mentioned in wet operation cases she'd reviewed. Would one of them be assigned to work on the case? What would it be like to work with someone from wet ops? Even if none of those five were assigned to the case, she could still end up working with a killer, and she found that thought scary, but fascinating, too.
Shelby began chuckling at her overactive imagination when a picture of Hannibal Lecter from Silence of the Lambs formed in her mind. Shaking her head, she got out of bed and made her way to the bathroom.
After eating a bowl of Maypo, Shelby leisurely enjoyed a cup of coffee since she had a little extra time, which was a rarity. In her excitement she'd gotten right up instead of falling back to sleep until the second alarm clock on the opposite side of her bedroom had gone off. Snooze buttons had never worked for her and when she almost missed an exam in college, she had finally given up on them and bought another alarm clock.
Shelby left her apartment a short time later, quickly descending the steps to the surface parking lot. Enjoying the warm sun on her arms, she walked to a new red Mercury Sable, turned off the alarm and unlocked the door using her hand held keypad. A couple of minutes later, she merged with the rest of the traffic for what would be a slow drive to McLean, Virginia.
* * *
Kris sat at the small round table in her hotel room drinking coffee. She seldom had access to American television and had mindlessly flipped through the cable channels before settling on CNN.
She had awakened early from a fitful sleep with a gnawing tension headache that had finally subsided to a dull throb. In the course of three short days, the carefully constructed fabric of her life was unraveling one thread at a time. It was bad enough to be recalled from the field to assist in an investigation based upon circumstantial evidence, but the implications of the phone call the previous night had been disturbing.
She had actually dared to hope...
Kris impatiently cut off that train of thought and poured another cup of coffee from the pot that room service had delivered. She had little room to maneuver in her new assignment and silently cursed the analyst who was the catalyst for her return. Knowing that type of thinking was self-defeating, she began to focus on how to eliminate the names on that list, her own included, to the satisfaction of the REMF's.
Kris donned black slacks, an off-white blouse and red blazer. The combination was striking on her and she knew it. Her intent was to attract attention. Kris was well aware that remaining in plain sight was often a better disguise than lurking in the shadows. After calling a cab, she tied a black silk scarf loosely around her neck, and slipped on a pair of loafer-style walking shoes. Kris touched up her hair and makeup and then, satisfied with her appearance, she placed her gun in a small, out of sight holster that was attached to her belt before going down to the lobby to wait for the taxi.
During the slow ride to work, Kris made a quick decision to rent a car that evening. She'd been too tired the day before to bother with it, but suddenly it had become a priority.
* * *
Shelby had barely gotten settled in at her desk when the phone rang. "Shelby Carson."
"Come on down to my office. Jeb gave the go ahead."
Unable to hide the excitement in her voice, Shelby answered, "I'll be right there." She hurriedly shoved her purse into the bottom drawer and walked away before quickly going back and locking the desk. Shaking her head, she muttered, "Get a grip already."
Shelby walked briskly up the corridor under the scrutiny of the hallway guardian who regarded her curiously. It was the first time since her arrival that she hadn't spoken to him as she passed.
Dennis hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair. Jeb had cautioned him against using Blue's code name, which was probably just as well. He didn't know if Shelby paid any attention to the rumor mill, but there was no sense in alarming her if she did. He needed for her to be at her best, not worrying about the deadly reputation of the operative she'd be working with.
Shelby knocked, waiting impatiently for Dennis to respond. When he did, she entered, smiling. "Good Morning."
"Morning. Have a seat." Dennis waited until Shelby was settled into the chair next to his desk before beginning to brief her.
"I don't think I need to tell you how important this case is. I want you to eliminate as many of the names on that list as you can. You will be working with," Dennis glanced down at a paper on his desk unable to recall Blue's real name, "Kris Bartley. I'd suggest you follow her lead. She'll know what to look for. Any data you need will be made available. I want this investigation kept very low key, but I also want no stone left unturned."
Shelby was surprised that she would be working with a woman. She had never thought of the code names in terms of gender and had assumed that those on her list were men. Knowing that was naïve thinking, she said, "Okay. What happens after the list is narrowed down?"
"The remaining names will be turned over to Jeb. My guess is, it'll probably be assigned to some field operatives for follow up. Any other questions?"
"No. I'll do my best."
Dennis smiled. "I know you will. Kris will be here shortly. I'll introduce you and then you can get started. Oh, one more thing. I want you both keeping normal hours. It's going to be hard enough to keep this case quiet once you start requesting information. I don't want you calling attention to yourself. If anyone asks, Kris just transferred in. I don't want anything done that might compromise her identity."
She was annoyed that Dennis thought it necessary to mention confidentiality. "I wouldn't do that." Shelby thought about asking what Kris' code name was, but knew Dennis would just tell her he didn't want to compromise her objectivity.
"I have to cover all the bases ..." Dennis stopped speaking when a knock sounded at the door and it swung open. Irritated, he glanced up.
"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" Kris had intended to make an entrance to gain the upper hand, but her question had been an automatic defensive mechanism to hide her own surprise.
A very attractive woman was sitting next to Dennis' desk, watching her with unabashed curiosity and a surprise that matched her own. Kris smiled inwardly at the transparent emotions visible on the face of the seated woman. Seemingly, she wasn't the only one who had been caught off-guard.
Shelby had looked over her shoulder as a breathtakingly gorgeous woman walked into the office. The room seemed to shrink under the newcomer's commanding presence. Sunglasses hid her eyes, but Shelby immediately sensed this was not a woman to be trifled with. This must be Kris. She certainly wasn't what Shelby had imagined and, sensitive to people, unbidden impressions began floating through her mind; tall, dark, dangerous, sexy. She almost chuckled aloud at the last word. Sexy?
"I hear you. Doesn't bother me that much, though."
Kim loved to eat out and asked, "So where are we going to eat?"
"You pick. I picked the movie."
"Umm...how 'bout Chesapeake Bay Seafood House?"
"Sounds good. See you tomorrow."
Shelby hung up the phone and relaxed. Their outing would be a nice diversion from the worrisome events of the day.
CIA Headquarters
Jeb almost sighed with relief as he left the office of the head honcho of covert ops, Earl Mason. He had met with Dennis the evening before and didn't have authority to pull an operative from the field without going up the ladder. And quite frankly, Earl Mason was one scary guy.
He was strictly a REMF (Rear Echelon MFer) and Jeb accepted the title proudly. He commanded from a desk, and that was the way he liked it. Lots of power, but nice and safe. He had no intentions of getting his ass shot off or being tortured in some foreign country while the government disavowed any knowledge of him.
Walking into his office, he called Dennis. "It's a go. Earl is pulling Blue." He paused as he heard the sharp intake of breath through the phone. That had been his reaction, too.
"Why Blue?" Dennis had heard rumors of just how ruthless Blue was and the operative had a reputation for never failing, regardless of how long the mission took. It was the "ruthless" part that bothered him if there were any truth to the tales he had heard, and experience had taught him that there was always some truth in the rumor mill.
"You'll have to ask Earl that."
Dennis snorted. "Yeah right. He's real amenable to having his decisions questioned."
"My point exactly. Blue's already in place and will be meeting with Earl at ten. He told me to tell you to be standing by from eleven on."
"Thanks for going to bat for me, Jim."
"Let's just hope we solve this case real fast."
Dennis hung up the phone and issued an apology that would never be spoken aloud. I'm sorry, Shelby. This guy is probably some cold fish with dead eyes and you're stuck with him.
* * *
Kris ignored the admiring looks cast her way as she walked down the main corridor of CIA headquarters en route to a Sunday meeting with her boss. She was used to the attention - it had served her, and her employer, exceptionally well.
Kris was tall, lithe and strikingly attractive. Her black hair flowed over her shoulders and onto her back. Longish bangs in need of a trim were brushed aside, contrasting nicely with an olive complexion. High cheekbones and a full mouth gave her an almost exotic appearance, but it was her sapphire blue eyes that were her most memorable feature.
Over the years, on the few occasions that the operative had been spotted, the witness would cite mesmerizing blue eyes, but beyond that, their memory seemed to fail. Her code name was, appropriately, Blue. And it was for just that very reason that dark sunglasses usually hid her eyes from casual onlookers.
Matter of fact, the operative looked every bit the part of an executive within the agency. She wore a fashionable gray, moderately cut suit with a crisp white blouse. Tasteful gold earrings, a matching brooch and a light smattering of make up, tastefully applied, accented her attire. The handle of a black purse was slung over her right shoulder and the handle of a black leather briefcase was secured in her left hand. Kris excelled at role-playing. She had been doing it for years.
She had arrived in Washington the previous evening and had wanted to be well rested for her meeting today, but troubling thoughts had thwarted those plans and she was operating on sheer adrenaline, worry vying with curiosity.
Arriving at her destination, Kris knocked once and walked into the outer office of the Director of Strategic Planning, commonly referred to as Covert Ops. She passed the empty secretary's desk on the way to the inner office door, knowing she'd been told to report on Sunday so there would be a limited number of people around. She knocked once and the door immediately opened.
Earl backed away from the door enough to allow Kris entry, and then closed it. "Long time no see."
"I would say charmed, except that I'm not."
"That's not very friendly of you."
"What's going on, Earl? You trash an ongoing operation and call me back here at the risk of blowing my cover. What is so damned important it couldn't have waited a few more weeks?"
Earl studied the woman silently, hoping to gain the upper hand in this meeting, but the tactic had no effect on her demeanor. "We have a potential security breach and you're being reassigned here to work with one of our top analysts to get to the bottom of it."
Kris fought against reacting to the news. In her mind, there was only one worse thing that could have happened. She was a field agent, not a desk jockey.
"Potential security breach?" She raised an eyebrow to indicate her disdain for the deliberately vague language. "Do we, or don't we?"
"That's your job. You tell me." Earl handed Kris a copy of the typed report he'd gotten from Jeb and sat back in his chair while she read it.
Kris quickly read the report. The evidence was solid, but there was no proof of any wrong doing by any operative listed. "Strictly circumstantial. Could be coincidence." She wasn't the least bit pleased that her name had been included in the list of "suspects."
"Right. That's where you come in. I need you to work with the analyst and narrow that list down. I figure it should take you a couple of weeks to accurately account for each operative's location. You will have full access to copies of the satellite transmissions, where they were sent to and received from, for each person on that list. Use every other means at your disposal to verify where each one was when the assassinations went down. Best case scenario--all the names are eliminated."
"I can't accept this assignment. I'm on the list. That's a conflict of interest." Kris smiled sardonically. "Besides, what if it's me? I could stymie you at every turn."
The hairs on the back of Earl's neck stood on end. He'd considered that possibility and hoped for all of their sakes that it wasn't true. To have her as an opponent would be catastrophic.
"First off, you don't have a choice. You're the best we have, and I want you on this. Secondly, you're too smart to do anything as dumb as interfere with an investigation."
Earl returned her smile. "Nice try, Kris."
Kris bit off a retort. This would be the assignment from hell for more than one reason.
He stood up. "Dennis McNabb is standing by. He'll answer any other questions you have and set you up with the analyst. Any questions?"
"No. But I want you to know that I am accepting this assignment under duress."
"Duly noted." Earl ran a hand through his thinning gray hair. "I probably don't need to tell you that if word of this investigation gets out, it could get dicey."
Kris rolled her eyes, the action hidden behind her sunglasses. "Yeah, Earl. So what else is new?"
Earl routinely dealt with some of the most cold-blooded men and women in the world, but this one had to be the deadliest of the lot. Her ability to turn the charm on and off at will put people, himself included, at a distinct disadvantage and it wasn't a position he liked being in. Earl had pulled her because he wanted a quick resolution to this case, but he felt a pang of sympathy for the analyst she'd be working with.
Kris was thoroughly enjoying the effect she was having on Dennis. When Earl had introduced her as Blue, he'd been unable to hide his shock and his mouth had dropped open. Since she was being saddled with a desk assignment, she intended to find amusement wherever she could.
Still grinning at Dennis' reaction, Kris would've loved to know what image his mind's eye had conjured up prior to meeting her. She was well aware of the exaggerated rumors floating around headquarters regarding both her and a few of her peers.
Earl had been gone for five minutes, and Dennis was still trying to recover. And it didn't help that she sat there watching him with an unreadable smile on her face, and her eyes covered by sunglasses. You couldn't very well gauge a person if you couldn't see their eyes. Damn, Earl could've at least warned me.
Deciding to keep it brief, Dennis quickly explained how Shelby had come up with the information, totally unaware Kris had already seen the report. Finished, he said, "Um.. if you could be back here tomorrow at nine, I'll introduce you to Shelby."
Kris nodded. "I'll be here," and walked out the door.
Dennis watched her appreciatively, but knew that was all he'd ever do.
* * *
Kris paid the cab driver and walked into the Sheraton. She was completely aware of her surroundings and everyone in the immediate vicinity, although she scanned the area so unobtrusively only someone similarly trained would have noticed her scrutiny.
Satisfied, she took the elevator to the fourth floor and entered a room near the far end. Kris was emotionally and mentally exhausted. The constant stress of worrying why her assignment had been terminated and keeping her public persona in place had taken its toll. She quickly removed her suit, hanging it on one of the hangers provided. Most of her clothes were in storage at the Company's expense, and a visit was going to be required very soon if she was to blend in with the Company's support staff.
After a quick shower, Kris walked out of the bathroom and donned a bathrobe before sinking onto the bed. She called room service and ordered a chef's salad only because she knew she should eat something.
Her thoughts turned back to the events over the last three days. She wasn't the least bit happy to be back at headquarters, although her worst fears had not been realized, and that in itself was a tremendous weight lifted from her shoulders.
The analyst she would be working with had to be fairly sharp to have picked up the pattern on the assassinations. That could be both good and bad. Time would tell.
After eating, Kris checked her gun, and laid it on the nightstand next to her bed. She never went anywhere without it. It was the only friend she had. Turning off the light, the tall woman was asleep almost before she hit the pillow.
Kris jerked upright in bed, and breathed a sigh of relief when she discovered the disturbance was the phone ringing. She glanced at the clock and saw it was eleven. She answered the phone more out of curiosity than anything else, having absolutely no idea why anyone would be calling her.
"Yes."
"Your Uncle wants to talk to you."
Still brushing the cobwebs from her mind, Kris said, "You've got the wrong number."
"I don't think so Natasha Lubinyenka."
Kris' head began throbbing as she squeezed the phone until her knuckles turned white, matching her equally pale face. She felt like she'd been punched in the solar plexus and couldn't breathe. No. Not now. Not here. Not while I'm under such close scrutiny.
CHAPTER 2
SHELBY SLEEPILY EXTENDED an arm from beneath the covers and turned off the alarm clock on her nightstand. Bright green eyes suddenly popped open when she realized it was finally Monday. Shelby smiled to herself, knowing this was the first time she could ever remember being glad the weekend was over.
Tossing back the covers she sat up, wondering for what had to be the hundredth time whether Jeb had decided to assign her the case. On the few occasions that she uncovered data concerning a field operative, Dennis had forwarded it to Central Affairs and she relished the challenge the case would offer, but was uneasy, too.
Shelby had an excellent memory, and had recognized some of the names on the list, but five stood out starkly in her mind. Atlas, Blue, Jet, Roman, and Silver. She had seen each of those names mentioned in wet operation cases she'd reviewed. Would one of them be assigned to work on the case? What would it be like to work with someone from wet ops? Even if none of those five were assigned to the case, she could still end up working with a killer, and she found that thought scary, but fascinating, too.
Shelby began chuckling at her overactive imagination when a picture of Hannibal Lecter from Silence of the Lambs formed in her mind. Shaking her head, she got out of bed and made her way to the bathroom.
After eating a bowl of Maypo, Shelby leisurely enjoyed a cup of coffee since she had a little extra time, which was a rarity. In her excitement she'd gotten right up instead of falling back to sleep until the second alarm clock on the opposite side of her bedroom had gone off. Snooze buttons had never worked for her and when she almost missed an exam in college, she had finally given up on them and bought another alarm clock.
Shelby left her apartment a short time later, quickly descending the steps to the surface parking lot. Enjoying the warm sun on her arms, she walked to a new red Mercury Sable, turned off the alarm and unlocked the door using her hand held keypad. A couple of minutes later, she merged with the rest of the traffic for what would be a slow drive to McLean, Virginia.
* * *
Kris sat at the small round table in her hotel room drinking coffee. She seldom had access to American television and had mindlessly flipped through the cable channels before settling on CNN.
She had awakened early from a fitful sleep with a gnawing tension headache that had finally subsided to a dull throb. In the course of three short days, the carefully constructed fabric of her life was unraveling one thread at a time. It was bad enough to be recalled from the field to assist in an investigation based upon circumstantial evidence, but the implications of the phone call the previous night had been disturbing.
She had actually dared to hope...
Kris impatiently cut off that train of thought and poured another cup of coffee from the pot that room service had delivered. She had little room to maneuver in her new assignment and silently cursed the analyst who was the catalyst for her return. Knowing that type of thinking was self-defeating, she began to focus on how to eliminate the names on that list, her own included, to the satisfaction of the REMF's.
Kris donned black slacks, an off-white blouse and red blazer. The combination was striking on her and she knew it. Her intent was to attract attention. Kris was well aware that remaining in plain sight was often a better disguise than lurking in the shadows. After calling a cab, she tied a black silk scarf loosely around her neck, and slipped on a pair of loafer-style walking shoes. Kris touched up her hair and makeup and then, satisfied with her appearance, she placed her gun in a small, out of sight holster that was attached to her belt before going down to the lobby to wait for the taxi.
During the slow ride to work, Kris made a quick decision to rent a car that evening. She'd been too tired the day before to bother with it, but suddenly it had become a priority.
* * *
Shelby had barely gotten settled in at her desk when the phone rang. "Shelby Carson."
"Come on down to my office. Jeb gave the go ahead."
Unable to hide the excitement in her voice, Shelby answered, "I'll be right there." She hurriedly shoved her purse into the bottom drawer and walked away before quickly going back and locking the desk. Shaking her head, she muttered, "Get a grip already."
Shelby walked briskly up the corridor under the scrutiny of the hallway guardian who regarded her curiously. It was the first time since her arrival that she hadn't spoken to him as she passed.
Dennis hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair. Jeb had cautioned him against using Blue's code name, which was probably just as well. He didn't know if Shelby paid any attention to the rumor mill, but there was no sense in alarming her if she did. He needed for her to be at her best, not worrying about the deadly reputation of the operative she'd be working with.
Shelby knocked, waiting impatiently for Dennis to respond. When he did, she entered, smiling. "Good Morning."
"Morning. Have a seat." Dennis waited until Shelby was settled into the chair next to his desk before beginning to brief her.
"I don't think I need to tell you how important this case is. I want you to eliminate as many of the names on that list as you can. You will be working with," Dennis glanced down at a paper on his desk unable to recall Blue's real name, "Kris Bartley. I'd suggest you follow her lead. She'll know what to look for. Any data you need will be made available. I want this investigation kept very low key, but I also want no stone left unturned."
Shelby was surprised that she would be working with a woman. She had never thought of the code names in terms of gender and had assumed that those on her list were men. Knowing that was naïve thinking, she said, "Okay. What happens after the list is narrowed down?"
"The remaining names will be turned over to Jeb. My guess is, it'll probably be assigned to some field operatives for follow up. Any other questions?"
"No. I'll do my best."
Dennis smiled. "I know you will. Kris will be here shortly. I'll introduce you and then you can get started. Oh, one more thing. I want you both keeping normal hours. It's going to be hard enough to keep this case quiet once you start requesting information. I don't want you calling attention to yourself. If anyone asks, Kris just transferred in. I don't want anything done that might compromise her identity."
She was annoyed that Dennis thought it necessary to mention confidentiality. "I wouldn't do that." Shelby thought about asking what Kris' code name was, but knew Dennis would just tell her he didn't want to compromise her objectivity.
"I have to cover all the bases ..." Dennis stopped speaking when a knock sounded at the door and it swung open. Irritated, he glanced up.
"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" Kris had intended to make an entrance to gain the upper hand, but her question had been an automatic defensive mechanism to hide her own surprise.
A very attractive woman was sitting next to Dennis' desk, watching her with unabashed curiosity and a surprise that matched her own. Kris smiled inwardly at the transparent emotions visible on the face of the seated woman. Seemingly, she wasn't the only one who had been caught off-guard.
Shelby had looked over her shoulder as a breathtakingly gorgeous woman walked into the office. The room seemed to shrink under the newcomer's commanding presence. Sunglasses hid her eyes, but Shelby immediately sensed this was not a woman to be trifled with. This must be Kris. She certainly wasn't what Shelby had imagined and, sensitive to people, unbidden impressions began floating through her mind; tall, dark, dangerous, sexy. She almost chuckled aloud at the last word. Sexy?
