Cyber Seduction: Across A Crowded Room (IATO Series Book 3) (4 page)

She didn’t look up at Mosel, didn’t have to fake being upset. She was, but not over Kate. Her thoughts were still on the two people in the hotel suite upstairs. She nodded, choking back more tears. “Please, please hurry.”

As Jorge carried Kate to the car, Emily knew not to look back. Her tension was real, although not for the obvious reasons. During the ride, she kept her attention on Kate, afraid her nerves were finally going to give her away. Mosel was up front with the driver, giving directions to bypass traffic. At the hospital entrance, he helped Jorge with Kate, and then returned for her.

Kate was rushed into an emergency room as soon as Jorge asked for Dr. Rincon. Everything went exactly as planned. There had been no need for concern, after all. But Emily couldn’t help thinking about how far Jason would have to go to convince Jacqueline he was still the same old womanizer. Emily knew what he’d have to do to maintain his cover.

I hope I can pull this off
, she worried to herself.

When Dr. Rincon appeared with the prearranged news that Kate would have to get back to the States, Emily acted confused. Dr. Rincon took the initiative and made all the arrangements, glancing to Mosel, including him in her suggestions. She recommended that Emily accompany her sister if possible.

“My job?” Emily stuttered, questioning Mosel.

“Emily, don’t worry. I’ll make whatever arrangements must be made at work. You just take care of your sister.”

Her task to reclaim his interest seemed to be working. Only he'd have to be interested enough to follow her back to Washington. Once he was there, the terrorist contacts would try to meet with him, and Jason would track him to their location.

Emily looked to Mosel questioningly. He didn’t wait for her to ask again. “Don’t worry. You must go with your sister.”

She pressed herself against him and hugged him. “Oh, Mosel, thank you. Thank you for everything. I’ll call when we know something, okay?” Emily’s relief was genuine.

He held her lightly, tentatively, as he waved off her gratitude. “It is nothing. I will check on you all personally at the end of the week. I have a visit scheduled to some friends in Washington. I will see you then, no? Maybe we can make new memories.”

With his last remark, she leaned against him and hugged him to her. “Yes, maybe we can. You’ve been so wonderful. I don’t know what we would do without you.”

He brightened, even more interested than ever. He bent over and brushed a kiss to her cheek, intimately placed where her jaw met her ear and neck. He smelled good, and having a man’s arms around her felt good, especially when all she could see through a green haze of jealousy was Jason with the blonde boa constrictor.

“Thank you so, so very much.” Emily hugged Mosel close again, this time turning her face up to his for the kiss that she needed.

“I will see you soon.” His lips touched hers, and she opened up with a passion she didn’t feel. Instead, she remembered Jason’s hot kiss and poured herself into this one.

When Mosel hardened against her, she knew their plan had worked. “Of course, soon. That will be even better. Hopefully, we’ll be back in Washington by then.”

She waved good-bye to Mosel from the front seat as Kate and Jorge were packed into the back of the small waiting ambulance. The heliport was only a short distance away. Within the hour they would be boarding the private jet from Nice and on their way back to Boston. Emily blocked her thoughts about Jason. She wasn’t going to breathe with relief until he was back with her in Eatons Landing, and they put this all behind them. If she could.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Three

 

At first, Emily was confused by the medicinal smell that seemed to engulf her. Where was she, and why did her head feel like it was going to blow up? The fumes permeated her senses, jogging her awake. As understanding returned, she became progressively more alert, finally recalling where she was. Massachusetts General, the top floor, the private government suite. She slowly assimilated her sterile surroundings, a hospital room where she apparently spent the night.

She could tell the sun was already high in the sky, yet there were few sounds coming from outside her door. Her tongue felt like swollen sandpaper, and her head pounded. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear she had a hangover. Lack of sleep couldn’t do that. But drugs could. The thought made her furious. This was her government at work. How dare they drug her! She wondered if they’d done it to get information out of her or to ensure she would still be here this morning.

Worry snaked through her mind, and anxiety began to poke at her stomach. If they didn’t trust her, what would that mean for her debriefing session?

Filtered light streamed through the slashes between the blinds that covered waist-to-ceiling-high windows. She squinted, and rolled her legs over the side of the bed, moving her head gingerly, careful not to jar it.

Until now, she thought she knew something about how things worked in the system. The agency controlled this floor. It was a sort of hospital penthouse for spies or agents, accessed only through a special elevator. When they were bringing agents or subjects they wanted kept in low profile into the country, this was where they were kept until a safe house was found.

Yesterday, when she arrived exhausted, tense, and confused, she planned to get this debriefing over with as quickly as possible. She was anxious to move on with her plans, ready to move forward. Last night she hadn’t noticed guards outside the door or anything unusual. In retrospect, she realized that meant nothing. Since this was her first debriefing, she didn’t actually know what was usual, the norm, or what to expect. And Jason and Harrison weren’t very helpful on that account before she left. Neither went into detail. She figured they hoped her ignorance of the procedure would mask the real reason for any tension she exhibited during questioning. Her inexperience would show. It would be to her advantage. And that was a positive in their plot. Better than giving away their plan to uncover the leak in the department, especially when they didn’t have a clue who they were up against.

She couldn’t risk making a mistake. She couldn’t take a chance blowing the plan or Jason’s life. Jason’s warning, “Trust no one!” echoed through her thoughts, reminding her to be careful. His words reverberated through her thoughts as her head pounded. She was beginning to feel less guilty about keeping her mouth shut to these people who had shut her up overnight and had the audacity to drug her.

In the light of day, last night was a blur—like an out of focus film. Bits of the film replaying in her head were coming into focus.

When they arrived, Kate and Jorge were whisked away from her, and she was led up here to a lounge while two female operatives built like Barbie clones—one blonde, one brunette—helped her with her belongings. They weren’t into answering questions, so she gave up trying to pry information from them.

One of them got her tea. So, that was when they drugged her! She would have smacked herself in the head for being so stupid but it hurt too much.

The cloud blocking her memories cleared. Franklin came by to say hi and told her to rest; he’d be back in the morning. She protested, telling him she’d rather get it over with and get home. He smiled and shook his head patiently as if talking to a small child. He was calm as he told her it was too late. This way would be safer. He added that before a debriefing, she wasn’t allowed any other contact. This was standard procedure. He patted her hand. He was composed and staid.

Everything about the rest of the night became fuzzy after that. Her suspicions stayed with her. Now, she wanted to ask if it was standard procedure to drug agents before a debriefing.

Her feet hit the floor, and the dizziness swirled, upending her world. She paused, allowing her body to adjust before she made the move to stand. When she did, she held onto the chair for balance. Okay, she could do this.
Give it a minute and the room will stop rolling.

She shuffled to the door, keeping her head from moving too much. She slowly tested the door. It wasn’t locked. She peeked into the hallway, quietly trying to get her bearings, trying to place the exact location in the hospital where she’d been taken. Down the hallway, by the exit sign depicting the location of the stairwell, two heavily muscled men lounged in black pleather and aluminum waiting-room chairs. An orderly in green scrubs bustled around a corner, and a custodian with a mop bucket wiped down the floors with gray water. That was the extent of the floor activity. There wasn’t any possibility of mingling in a crowd to mask her escape.

So this is the way of it
, she thought to herself as she closed the door without making a sound. Patience, she would have to be patient. Emily temporarily gave up any thought of leaving. She’d have to remain here until she figured out what was going on and hope things would go the way they planned.

Resigned, she looked for the bathroom. There were two doors to choose from. After the long night, her bladder was bursting for attention, so she hoped her first choice was the right one. Her eyes felt like they could explode in their sockets, and her body ached in every muscle. The small bathroom off her room was already set up with her personal care items.

“Thoughtful of them,” she noted while rummaging through the bag on the counter, anxiously searching for an aspirin. She threw two into her mouth and scooped up water from the tap with her hand, not waiting to find a glass. There was nothing left to do at the moment but go with the flow. It was easier than fighting the unknown.

She assumed the other door led to a closet. Maybe that’s where they put her suitcase. To her surprise, a few of her clothes were already hanging, and some underwear lay out on the shelf. She picked up her things and carefully walked back to the bathroom. Cleaning up would feel great. It would make her feel better to get the grime of travel off her body and the cobwebs out of her head. She turned on the shower and let the water warm up a bit before relaxing into the flow. She’d freshen up and wait for them to contact her.

As she suspected, she didn’t have long to wait. While she wiped herself off with the large fluffy towel, more luxury hotel style than hospital issue, and reached back in to turn off the shower, she heard a tap on the outside door. The formality, under the circumstances, amused her. She opened the bathroom door, leaned out into the room and called, “Come in, I’ll be right out.”

Emily toweled her hair dry as she stepped into the room, a robe securely fastened around her, when one of the female agents from the night before, the blonde one with the tea, put down a tray of food on the coffee table. Emily raised an eyebrow at her and decided to be blunt. “If it’s anything like the tea from last night, I’ll pass.”

The woman had the courtesy to appear uncomfortable, shaking her head. “Sorry, not my idea. But probably a good one. You needed a good night’s sleep. I can’t ever rest well or soundly in a strange place, let alone a place that smells so much like antiseptic.” She scrunched her nose, gestured to the room, smiled, and nodded to the food. “Today we need you awake to fill us in. You can eat in peace. There’s nothing in any of this.” She reached down and grabbed a piece of toast just to prove the food was okay.

“I know you think I should probably thank you, but I feel like I have a hangover.” Emily ran a hand over her face, adding, “I just woke up a bit ago, I’m still trying to get my balance. What time is it, anyway?”

The Barbie clone answered, and Emily shrugged. “I think I’m still on Monte Carlo time.”

“Drink the coffee. It’ll help. I think your headache is more from the time change than the sleeping pill. You’ve been asleep fourteen hours, much longer than the pill’s effects. I checked on you every couple of hours this morning. Sometimes the adrenaline dive after a mission causes this type.” She grinned, shaking Emily’s hand and laughing. “Joanne Johnson. Just Jo is fine. Nice to meet you.” It was a friendly, honest handshake. Her smile was open and genuine.

“So what should I expect? Can you tell me? This is my first time.” Of course, Jo knew that.

“I know, it’s no biggie. I can tell you this much—relax. Franklin’s got the equipment here. We often use this floor at the hospital for just this purpose. Unfortunately, we sometimes need the building’s medical facilities.” She let that hang.

Emily could see how an arrangement like this could be advantageous for more than one purpose. Anything medical could also be handled here. Who’d suspect? “When do we start?”

“I’ll let Franklin know whenever you’re ready. In a hurry to get home?”

“God, yes,” Emily practically groaned. “And yet, who can complain about the luxurious Riviera? Really though, I feel like a jerk saying it, but it’s just not home. I’d like to crash someplace familiar, like in my own bed.”

 

Ten hours later, in the private car returning her to her Boston apartment, she was finally able to wind down. She relaxed. After reviewing the day in her head, she was satisfied that the debriefing went well. Although she was nervous at first, the questions were routine, and she fell into the familiar pace of answering honestly. She only felt herself tense once, and that was when Jason’s name came up. Fortunately, that happened up front, in the beginning, when they would have expected her to be nervous. A couple of hours into the procedure, she felt more confident. Certainly she could pull it off without a hitch, if she could settle down and get through it. There was no way they should be suspicious, there wasn’t a hint of what she hid. She was sure they attributed any anxiety to her inexperience.

She rested her head on the back of the seat until the car came to a stop at her apartment. Jo Johnson got out to help with her bags and reassured her, “You came through that just fine. It wasn’t so bad, now, was it?”

“That’s a relief.” Emily thought as she shook her head. “Thanks. I’m glad it’s over. I don’t know why the thought of debriefing is so scary. I guess you’re always wondering if they’ll find a missed step, a possible hole in your work. You know? Find you lacking, I guess.”

“I never would have suspected you to be so insecure.” Jo looked at Emily, puzzled. “You’re so bright and beautiful.”

Emily laughed out loud at that. “Who, me? You’ve definitely got the wrong girl. Me? I’m a geek, a computer nerd.”

Jo looked quizzically at Emily like she was being polite, but Emily meant it.

“You have to be kidding. You’ve been brainwashed with all that old programming from high school. You know, because you were younger and smarter than everyone else was? It actually impacted your self-esteem. Have you looked at yourself lately?”

It was nice having a woman to talk to, especially when it was one who thought such nice things about her. Part of what she said was right, though. Emily hadn’t completely gotten over the old self-image.

“It’s not easy to change the way you think about yourself. It’s who I am. Big, curly, auburn hair, stick figure, too young to do what the other kids could, and too smart to talk to any of them. I know what I look like now, but the geek’s still here,” she tapped her head, “trapped inside, reminding me every minute, creating doubts. I’ve been practicing self-visualization. The tactic is supposed to reprogram the way people think of themselves. I’m getting better.”

“Well, get over all that self-doubt, you’re one hot babe now. Not many are as smart as you are, either. By the time you’re thirty, I expect you’ll be heading up your division. It was a pleasure meeting you, Emily.” Jo smiled. “Can we stay in touch? It’s a bitch finding women friends in the agency.”

Emily never had an adult friend outside Kate and Andrea, and family didn’t count. The thought made her happy. “I’d love to stay in touch.” Despite their bad start, it looked like they clicked. “And Jo, thanks again for helping me get through my first debriefing. Hopefully, it won’t be my last. I discovered I like fieldwork.” She laughed conspiratorially. “Don’t tell anyone, but I think I’m really an adrenaline-rush junkie at heart.”

They both laughed, yet beneath the surface, they each understood the danger that could be. That rush led to closer and closer calls, greater and greater risks. It wasn’t smart for an agent to indulge those feelings. Those risks got you killed.

 

When she stepped into the foyer, the message light on her phone blinked, nagging furiously at her from the table. Before she dropped her bags where she stood, she kicked off her shoes and put her mail on the Victorian table.

She pressed play. Her voice mailbox was full. “You have forty messages. Please clean out your mailbox.”
Oh, crap.
Later,
she thought, hating the demands of machinery. Wasn’t she the one that should be in control? The cell phone in her bag beeped at her. Unfortunately, she knew she couldn’t ignore that. Those were the messages she’d have to get to now. She decided to clean out the phone messages later when she got around to it.

She went into her office and sat in the dark at her desk, prepared to sort through everything systematically. First she organized her mail into the old-fashioned slots on her desk. The junk mail went into in the trashcan, bills to the right, invoices to the left. “So much paper even in a paperless society.”

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