Countermeasure (22 page)

Cassandra was resigned to the fact that she would be surrounded by strangers on all sides when she found her seat. She had been stuck with one in the middle of the row because of the last-minute reservation.
Not the best start for a trip to a beautiful city for sure
, she thought as she stowed her duffel in the overhead compartment.

She slid into her seat and noticed the little baby asleep in his mother’s arm in the row behind her. Both parents looked stressed and glanced at the little guy every now and then as if they were expecting him to grow a third head any moment.
Poor suckers.
She sat and hoped that the little one would not scream for the entire seven-hour flight, but knew it was probably inevitable.

Cassandra got comfortable, slipped her bag under the seat in front of her, and buckled in. As she leaned back against the headrest, her eyes were caught by the retracted curtain that would separate Bauer’s section from hers, and rolled her eyes before concentrating on the passengers still boarding.

Watching them pass one by one, she started trying to guess who would be her companions for the trip. She was hoping for someone quiet.
Oh lord
, she thought, as she watched a thirty-something man with slicked-back hair, a button-down shirt with the first four buttons undone, and several gold chains around his neck ogle every woman he passed.

“Please keep going. Please keep going,” Cassandra muttered over and over again, hoping he’d pass her by. She breathed a sigh of relief as he continued on past her row, especially when his cologne wafted back to her and her nose automatically wrinkled, offended by the overpowering scent. Sadly, it didn’t dissipate and she realized he was now standing next to her row without his bag.
Damn it to hell
, Cassandra thought as he plopped himself in the seat next to hers. He swung his head toward her and she tried to hide her gag reflex caused by the mixed stench of cologne and extra pomade glossing his hair.
Damn
, she thought again.
I hope the attendants are prepared. One match and this guy will go up in flames.

The man leaned on the arm rest and stuck his hand out in front of her. “Hey, and who might
you
be pretty lady? I’m Sam. I can’t tell you how happy I am that we found each other.”

Cassandra took his hand and just as quickly released his sweaty palm to discreetly wipe hers along her jeans before she replied with a polite “hi” and ignored his request for her name. The thought of it crossing his slimy lips made her slightly ill, until a flash of how her name sounded with an Irish lilt gave her pause.
Where did that come from?

Busy with her attempts to keep Sam out of her personal space, she was startled by a commotion on her other side. Glancing up, she saw a woman trying to shove her bag up in the bin.

“’Scuse me,” she said when her bag slipped back out and she needed help to shove it back in again. “So sorry,” the woman apologized when she turned too quickly and her gigantic purse hit the person in the row across from them
.

This is getting worse by the minute
, Cassandra thought as the disaster sagged into the empty seat on her left and started talking to her like they were old friends. “Hi, I’m Kathy. Are you going to Paris? I love Paris. Have you been there before? If not, I can show you everywhere you need to go.”

Her questions and comments shot out of her mouth a mile a minute, and Cassandra was happy to hear the attendant over the loudspeaker telling everyone to take their seat so that they could close the doors. This quieted Kathy for a bit and allowed Cassandra time to close her eyes to collect her thoughts. The flight had the makings of being the flight from hell: Chatty Kathy to the left and Lounge Lizard to the right.

The chair in front of her bumped against her knees and startled her. She opened her eyes in time to see a man the size of a football player sit in front of her.
Great,
she thought,
could this get any worse?
She was being punished for her stubbornness. She could have been sitting comfortably in Business Class beside Bauer talking shop. Instead, she was surrounded by every flight cliché there was
. What the hell
? Glancing at the curtain, she thought about Bauer and how relaxed he would be in his extra-wide, quiet seat.

****

Trevor sat on his plush, comfortable seat in Business Class, now separated from the coach section by a closed curtain, and wondered about the stubborn woman sitting somewhere behind him. If she had accepted his offer she could be sitting there beside him. They could be talking about their plan of attack once in Paris, or simply making casual conversation. Either way, he would have been learning more about her. As it was, they were wasting precious time.

Once the seatbelt light turned off, he got up to check on her, give her company. He peeked into the coach section and scanned the poor souls packed like sardines. He immediately spotted Cassandra smack in the middle of a center row, surrounded by chaos.

The woman beside her appeared to be bending her ear. Cassandra was crammed in her chair trying to avoid being squeezed by the linebacker sitting in front of her, whose seat was now reclined on her lap. At the same time, she was trying to avoid the ogling from the slimy guy sitting beside her. His heart went out to her, but at the same time found the whole situation ridiculously funny: her row was the only one active in an otherwise quiet cabin.

He considered asking again if she wanted to be upgraded. He was sure he could get her moved to the empty seat across the aisle from his, but going by her reaction to his two previous offers, he’d get nowhere with the third and become more of a pest in her eyes. He decided to chill and sat back in his chair. About halfway through the flight, though, after dinner was served, he had had enough of his solitude and decided to walk over to her. He wrapped a couple of the freshly baked cookies from his plate in a napkin to bribe his way into a conversation. He hoped to soothe her pain with the offering.

The cabin was dark, only the glow from reading lights illuminated it. He approached Cassandra’s row and saw the woman on her left had fallen asleep. As he drew closer, he noticed the man next to Cassandra lean quickly away from her and rub his ribs, as if elbowed to keep his distance. Trevor’s eyes narrowed and a mild twinge of anger took root at the thought of that stranger touching Cassandra’s skin. He then considered how quickly and efficiently she had taken care of the man’s unwanted advances and relaxed; the woman was more than capable of taking care of herself. As he got closer, he heard a baby sob and saw her head bow in defeat.

Cassandra was so distracted by the chaos that she didn’t notice him standing in the aisle by her row. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes as if seeking escape to withstand the rest of the flight.

“Cassandra,” he whispered softly to get her attention.

Completely oblivious, Cassandra didn’t hear him at first.

“Cassandra!” he whispered louder. Suddenly her eyes snapped open and she looked around. Turning her head his way, her beautiful brown eyes locked with his.

Raising her eyebrows, she questioned him in a tired tone, “What are you doing here?”

“Just bringing you some treats. I thought you might not get any in coach,” he handed her the cookies.

Cassandra looked at the cloth napkin he had extended in her direction and saw the shortcake cookies she adored peeking through.
Double damn it! And then he has to go and do something nice like this.
Her disgruntled attitude toward him softened.

She didn’t want to create any further animosity between them. She sighed, accepting the bundle he handed her. When their fingers brushed lightly, she felt a kick to her stomach. He didn’t seem affected by their slight touch and simply smiled softly, nodding his head to her, and left her to her own thoughts.

****

Cassandra didn’t get any shuteye during the entire flight. When they finally landed in beautiful Paris she was in a foul mood again—the memory of Trevor’s cookie gesture swallowed by grumpiness. She exited the plane and found Bauer waiting for her at the end of the ramp. Disgruntled at how refreshed and alert he looked while she felt grungy and starving, she ignored his hello and offer to carry her bag. She passed him by and headed in the direction of the exit.

She fumed even more at his chuckle, “You could have had a nice comfy seat next to me, lass.”

She knew he was right. She accepted the notion halfway through the flight as chaos reigned around her. Damn her pride. It had been a stupid move not to accept his offer, but now it was water under the bridge. She just needed to move on and try to make the best of their new “work arrangements.”

Cassandra was unable to let his comment go by without a response. She scratched her back with her middle finger as she continued in the direction of the exit.

Trevor, who was following close behind her, burst out laughing. “Looks like someone needs a time-out,” he chuckled as he opened the cab door for her.

Their adventure had begun.

From the time they arrived
in Paris, the score had been Bauer three, Cassandra zero. So far he had won every single argument, calmly and logically, without gloating, force, or irascible behavior, which took the wind out of her sails every time.

The first had been regarding the use of a car rental. She believed it to be unnecessary as they would be in town with easy access to public transportation. Bauer had argued that with a rental they would be ready to go at a minute’s notice if their chase happened to take them out of the city.

Second, Bauer had won the right to drive, since he had brought his GPS unit already pre-programmed with the directions to the hotel and other attractions in the City of Lights. The attraction piece had puzzled Cassandra—it was almost as if he thought they would have time to stroll around, enjoy the scenery, and visit landmarks.
If he did, he was crazy!
As much as she would have secretly loved to, in her mind she was the rabbit in Alice in Wonderland’s book—already late for the party and unwilling to waste any more time.

The third, and the icing on the cake, had been the location of the control room. It was her fault, really. She had specifically told him to book her a room within her budget, and he had done so. It also meant a smaller area, not feasible for a control room where the two of them would be working day in and day out, for God knows how long. When Bauer mentioned he’d booked his room with the workspace in mind, she’d conceded defeat, especially after he’d made her laugh by telling her he couldn’t be apart from Jack, his laptop. She had smiled at first, thinking he was joking about naming his laptop; but no, he had been dead serious. She had chuckled again when Bauer proceeded to name her own laptop Jill, and even made formal introductions when she had brought it over to set up shop in the sitting area of his suite.

“Jack, this is Jill. Jill, this is my buddy Jack.” Bauer had a humorous glint in his eyes that she’d somehow found endearing.

He also looked too damn hot for his own good, which didn’t help matters. To make things easier, Bauer had given Cassandra a spare keycard for his room so she could come and go as she pleased. Taking him at his word, she used it for the first time the morning after their arrival. After knocking on his door and hearing him call out,
Come in
, she had breezed right in only to stop in her tracks at the sight of Bauer, bare-chested, in the middle of putting on his shirt.

From the dampness of his hair, she could only assume that he had just showered. Frazzled by the view, she turned right around and was on her way back out the door when he stopped her with a humorous, “You can turn around, now. I’m decent.”

From that day forward Cassandra had been extra cautious when entering Bauer’s room. She didn’t need any more images of his six-pack flooding her mind every time she closed her eyes.

Since they had arrived at the hotel and set up their temporary control room a few days before, they had been in daily contact with George, Bauer’s NSA buddy. George had sent them copies of the transcripts from the original calls made by Allison to her family and said he was waiting on a couple more. Once they had received the transcripts and recordings of the calls made by Allison from Italy and the one from Paris, they had been able to analyze them.

Bauer had plugged the origin coordinates from where the known calls had been made into the geographical profiling software he had installed on his laptop while they waited for additional input from George. For Cassandra, the wait was nerve-wracking.

****

Trevor was antsy. Cassandra was allowing no time for play and he really wanted to take her out for dinner, visit a local attraction, or just go for a walk around the block—but she wouldn’t budge. They had been stuffed in the hotel for three days waiting for word from George and hoping for a streak of luck. More and more, Trevor believed Allison was a pawn in a very serious, dangerous game. It was mid-afternoon in Paris when George finally came online.