Crossing the Line (20 page)

I felt the bile rising in my stomach, but I swallowed it back down. I sank against the wall and blinked up at him, which he took as an invitation to come even closer. I was having a hard time breathing.

“Now, tell me,” he said. “What is a pretty thing like you doing
wandering around here unattended?”

I smiled. His thumb rubbed up and down my side. I fought off a shiver. “My date wasn't paying much attention to me. He has a little bit of a wandering eye.”

“How can any eyes wander when you're in the room?” His voice was supposed to be seductive, but it was anything but. I forced a laugh and leaned closer, feeling more powerless by the second. We kept talking, and he kept touching me more and more inappropriately. I let him—I didn't have a choice.

I giggled while I looked around the room for something to distract me, but nothing held my attention. I took in the crowd and couldn't help but think that anyone here could be a KATO agent. It would be so easy for them to get to me if they suspected me of anything. I swallowed, fighting the paranoia.

I spotted two people meeting in a corner, near a door so small it probably went unnoticed by everybody else in the room. The man was on the shorter side and had been standing there for ten minutes when a woman in a black dress walked up to him. They talked quietly and kept glancing around. Amateurs. They couldn't be any more obvious that they were up to something. After a moment, the man nodded, opened the door a crack, and they both slid inside. The woman snuck back out in less than two minutes.

My heart started racing with excitement and dread. I knew what had happened in that room. I knew the signs of a drug deal anywhere. I'd made enough of them when I was in the field and afraid of running out of Gerex. Alcohol may not have been worth it, but if there was a strong opiate in that room—

“I'll be done in five minutes.” Travis's voice jolted me back to
reality. “I have another way out, so I'll meet you at the extraction point.”

I smiled at Popov and he continued to lay it on thick, but I kept my eyes on the door in the corner, letting the memories of being high take over. I had
never
wanted it so bad. I could feel it. And I
needed
it back in my bloodstream. Even if it wasn't Gerex, I needed to feel something close.

A long rough finger on my face drew me back to Popov. He was staring at me, with a cocky smile like he knew I was his. Then I remembered the mission. I couldn't think about anything else. Only the mission. I had to exit the conversation in a way that wouldn't arouse his suspicion.

“You should step away from me,” I said, glancing behind him.

He gave me a questioning look.

I leaned in to whisper in his ear. “I see my date looking for me,” I said. “And while he may have a wandering eye, he doesn't like it when I have one. He tends to get jealous.”

“Ah, I see.” He gave me a knowing look, and stepped back. Though he was still too close for comfort. “I will meet you after the party, yes?”

I beamed at him. “Of course.”

He relaxed a little, and I smiled at him one last time before I stepped away. I had done my part of the assignment. Now that Travis had what he needed, the only thing I was supposed to do was get out. But instead my eyes stayed on the small door in the corner. The woman, who had to be the buyer, had left almost as soon as she got there. But the door hadn't opened again since—and I'd barely taken my eye off it. The dealer was still inside.

I
ground my teeth together, keeping my attention on the door. If he came out I wouldn't be able to approach him. Not with a roomful of people who I needed to buy my cover. But if I were to go to him it would be a different story.

I swallowed hard. I couldn't do this. Not on a job. And even if I did, the strongest street drug wouldn't come close to doing what I needed it to do. But when I looked down at my blue sparkling dress and heard Popov's words echoing in my head, I didn't care. I needed something,
anything
in my system. The overwhelming need to get high refused to let go. I had time before I was supposed to meet Travis at the extraction point. I could make this happen.

I slipped into the room so effortlessly it took the dealer by surprise.

He jumped when I shut the door, but got over it quickly. “Can I help you?” His voice was deep and scratchy.

“I'm pretty sure you can,” I said. “What are you dealing?” Whatever it was, it was feet away from me.

He gave me a hard look. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

I smirked and pulled out a roll of IDA in-case-of-emergency money from my purse and dropped it on the table. He looked surprised. I arched my eyebrow. “Do you know what I'm talking about now?”

He looked down at the money, then up at me. “Heroin.” He dropped a packet of white powder on the table.

I picked it up and examined it closely. It was hard to tell how pure it was, but I was sure it would be enough. I dropped the pouch into my purse without another word. I clutched the blue bag, all too aware of the drug resting against my gun. The dealer watched me wordlessly, waiting for me to make the next move. I stepped back into the ballroom, and I felt my control slipping. The shaking that I had been able to repress started to intensify. I'd never felt like a bigger failure, and it didn't seem to matter.

I ducked out of the main ballroom, found a bathroom out of the way, and locked myself inside. I threw water on my face and breathed deep. I couldn't think straight. The only thing I saw was the white powder.

I looked at myself in the mirror and the blue dress stared back at me. I picked up the packet and slid down the wall, pulling my knees to my chest. I held the drug out in front of my face and studied it. Guilt ate at my stomach for spending the IDA's money like this, but it was done.

Now that the money had been spent, it seemed like a shame to waste it. I opened the bag, dipped my fingers in, and rolled them in the powder, then dusted them off and smelled the residue. I was close to giving in, and I was so,
so
tired of fighting it. I'd held out for so long—months without anything. Just this once I wanted to give myself what I needed.

I closed the toilet seat next to me and spread some of the heroin on top of it. I would rather have injected it, but I didn't have all the tools. I leaned over the toilet, ready to snort.

Then my comm clicked on.

“Seriously,” Travis was saying, “it doesn't matter what you do, you're not going to find out who I'm working for or what I have.”

“You will break,” a Russian voice said. “And you will give us everything we want.”

I sat up straight. He'd been caught. I hadn't even realized that it had been fifteen minutes since we'd last signed off. The comms had kicked in on their own.

There was a condescending tone to Travis's voice. “That's going to be harder than you think it is.”

I dusted the drug off the toilet and tucked the rest of the packet in my purse. I splashed more water on my face. I had to pull myself together. The job wasn't done, and I was jeopardizing everything.

I tore out of the bathroom and fought through the craving, desperately focusing on Travis. He must have been caught after he left the office, and if I had to guess, it was probably before he got off the floor. I glanced back to the alcove and saw Popov was gone. I let the adrenaline of the mission replace my need for the drug. I crept to the next floor and found a closet that had an air duct, well away from any security cameras. I strapped my purse to my thigh—there was no way I was leaving it behind—then I popped out the vent and lifted myself up into it.

Once I was out of the way, I pulled out my tablet and looked at the blueprint. I quickly found the office Travis had broken into. Then I crept along the ducts, listening for any sign of a confrontation. If Travis had been caught on this floor, they probably wouldn't have taken him too far away.

I was dead-on. I'd moved only a few feet when I heard voices
coming from the first offshoot. I pulled myself down and found that I was looking into an elaborate library. The vent was in the ceiling, and I could see the whole room perfectly. Travis's back faced a stained-glass window, and four guys with guns stood between him and the door. Popov was one of them.

I scanned the room from my bird's-eye vantage point, trying to come up with a way to get him out. Usually I could handle four guys, but I was still shaky from the near relapse. It would be too much of a risk.

My eyes fell on the window behind Travis, and I knew what I needed to do.

I pushed myself backward through the vent, and back to the closet.

I pressed my comm in. “I've got a plan. Stand by and I'll get you out.” He couldn't answer me, but I wanted him to be ready.

I found the steps and sprinted up a level to the top floor of the embassy. Then I used the blueprints to find the room right above the library. It was a bedroom. Fortunately, the house was uniform and the windows lined up perfectly. I had found some rope in the supply closet I had been in. I opened the bottom window and tied the rope tightly around the radiator underneath it, then dropped the rest through the opening. It would be perfectly hidden behind the stained glass.

I went back downstairs and through the vents. I hovered above the room, looking around. There were two guys right below me, and one of them was Popov. I could take them out easily, even in my current state. It was the other two I would have a problem with. The only way I was going to get past them was by catching them off guard.

“Be ready to grab the rope,” I said to Travis. I watched his face.
There was absolutely no sign of recognition, but he had to have heard me.

I pushed myself up so I was practically doing a bent-knee push-up with my feet resting on the grate. Then I lifted my hips, supporting my weight on my hands, and slammed my feet into the vent, knocking it to the floor. I dropped down and held on to the duct while I swung my legs at Popov and the other guard closest to me. I hit my targets right below their skulls and they fell to the ground. The other two guards had their guns out, firing at me. It gave Travis the chance to attack them from behind. He stunned them enough to knock their guns down and I didn't give them a chance to recover. I grabbed Travis's arm, pulled him toward the window and jumped through it. Glass shattered around me, but I grabbed the rope easily. Fortunately, Travis was right behind me. We slid down the building and hit the ground running. I pushed my comm. “This is Raven. We need an immediate extraction at our location!”

My earbud crackled. “Extraction en route. Twenty seconds out. The street intersects fifty feet from you.”

Travis and I ran hard to the intersection. Our ride was already waiting for us when we got there. We both jumped in without bothering to slow down.

The car took off and we collapsed against the seat, panting.

“How—” Travis said between breaths. “How did you know to do that?”

I shook my head. It wasn't the first time I'd had to get out of a building that way, but I didn't want to get into it.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

He nodded. “They caught me coming out of the office, but they
didn't do anything more than point their guns at me.” He peered at me. “Are
you
okay?” He pulled my arms forward. “The glass cut you up pretty good.”

I looked down, noticing the small shallow cuts that lined my arms. If I had to guess, my face probably looked the same. I swallowed hard and pulled my arms back. “Did you get what we need?” I asked.

He shot me an incredulous look, like he couldn't believe I asked, then reached into his boot. He pulled out the thin, wide device. “They searched me, but couldn't find anything other than my gun.” He laughed. “I'm pretty sure I was about to get strip-searched when you showed up, so your timing couldn't have been better.”

I smiled lightly, then leaned into the seat behind me, finally catching my breath.

We transferred to a plane shortly after that. I tried to get settled, but my hand brushed my thigh where my purse was strapped. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off I found myself falling back into the intensely desperate need I had back in the bathroom. I unstrapped the bag and slipped it out from underneath my dress. I fingered the silver beading, feeling like I was holding one of the most valuable things I'd ever touched. I should have ditched it back at the scene, but I—couldn't. I had come so close to giving in that I couldn't let it go. The idea that I could still get high once I got back to the IDA was the only thing that got me through.

“Jocelyn?”

I looked up at Travis, who was watching me cautiously. “I just said your name three times,” he said. He knew something was off. I hated how well my former enemy had come to know me.

“Sorry,” I said, running my hand through my hair, pulling the pins out. I wore it down so rarely I'd forgotten what it felt like to have it hanging around my neck.

He was still staring at me. “What's wrong?”

I was tense but I wasn't shaking. The little adrenaline I had left was keeping the craving at bay, but the more it wore off, the more agitated I felt. I didn't know if I could handle when it did—I didn't know what I would do. “I'm—sorry,” I said. “I should have noticed the guard was gone.”

“That wasn't your fault,” Travis said, shaking his head. “I told you I had a way out.” He was quiet for a moment and I kept focused on my breathing. “There's something else going on here.”

I squeezed my bag tight and looked up at him. “No, there's not,” I said. I couldn't tell him about the drugs in my purse any more than I could tell him about the reason I'd bought them. It was beyond weakness. It was the part of KATO that was more humiliating than I could stand. I exhaled. “I just need to see Dr. March when we get back.”

This was deeper than a craving. Every part of me wanted the drug. If I weren't on a plane surrounded by agents, I would be high already.

I tried to turn away from him, but I couldn't. He was giving me one of his hard, searching looks, like he was trying to x-ray my soul. Then after a moment he sat back, defeated. “You still don't trust me.”

“What?” I asked. “Yes, I do.” And I did. But I was just starting to win him over and this would change everything. “You need to trust
me
. I'm fine.”

“This isn't about me,” he said, edging closer.

“Well, it's not about me either,” I snapped.

He got even more serious. “Every time you get shifty on me,
you're holding something back. What is this time?” he asked. “How worried do I need to be?”

“I don't need you to worry about me!” He was wearing me down. I had to get him to go away. I needed to be left alone. I leaned in close to him and when I spoke it was in a hiss so sharp and quiet, only he could hear it. “Stop pretending to care. You can't help me any more than you could help Eliza.” He looked as if he'd been slapped, but I kept going. “I've been around a lot of heartless agents, and I'm not fooled. You're just as bad as any I've come across.” I kept my glare even and intense. “So, back off.”

He stared at me with an expression of horror and betrayal etched so deeply into his face it hurt to look at. “Fine,” he said, his voice barely audible. He turned and left me alone.

I closed my eyes, hating myself, and leaned my head against the seat behind me. I held my purse close to my chest, wishing the drugs could numb every emotion inside me.