Rogue Operator (25 page)

“Oh my
God, it’s so good to hear your voice. Where have you been, we’ve been so
worried! I didn’t believe them for a second when they said you were dead!”

They
said we were dead? Who said?
He had a million
questions, but none of it mattered. He had to finish this call as quickly as
possible.

“I’m
okay, Mom, don’t worry.”

“Are
Maggie and the kids with you?”

His
chest tightened at the horror of the answer, and he forced the lie out.

“Yes.
Everyone’s okay.”

“Where
are you? We’ve been worried sick.”

Jubilation
in his head as she had asked the right question.

“I can’t
say.”

“What do
you mean you can’t say?”

It was
time to end the conversation before she asked anything else. And it was time to
deliver the closing lines, with their double meanings, the phone’s built-in GPS
transmission feature doing the rest.

“I’m
sorry, Mom, I have to go. Listen, I just wanted you to know we’re okay. Don’t
worry about us.”

“I don’t
understand. Why can’t—“

“I’m
sorry, Mom, I’ve got to go. Say hi to Dad. And Mom?”

“What?”

“Tell
them not to look for us.”

He hit
the button to end the call, turned off the phone, then lifted his head, letting
the towel fall to cover his hand with the phone. He was about to turn off the
shower when he heard a scream from the front of the house. He tossed the phone
in the hamper, then the towel on top of it, and unlocked the bathroom door. He
pulled it open as he heard his daughter cry out and Darius began to wail.

Jason
rushed forward, down the hallway toward the kitchen, but before he could reach
it, he saw the angry face of his handler burst into the hall, followed by two
blue jumpsuits, armed. Jason skidded to a halt.

“Where
is it?” screamed his handler.

Jason
decided there was no point in playing dumb, but his brain hadn’t coordinated
the thought with his mouth, and he blurted, “Where’s what?”

He was
rewarded with a slap across his face that stung more than anything he could
remember, the force sending him spinning to the floor. He was immediately
grabbed by the jumpsuits and hauled toward the bathroom.

“Where
is it?” demanded his handler again.

“In the
hamper,” mumbled Jason, still recovering from the blow.

His
handler, whose name he now realized he had never been given, motioned for one
of the jumpsuits to look. A few moments later the man reappeared, handing over
the satphone.

“Where
did you get this?”

“From
the lab!”

“I don’t
believe you!”

“It’s
true! I swear! It was in the drawer of the lab. I thought since you left it
there, it was okay to use.”

He was
hauled to his feet and dragged back toward the kitchen. Shoved into a chair, he
felt his hands tied around his back, then another blow was delivered across his
face.

Three
distinct screams caused him to look to the far corner, where Maggie cowered on
the floor, holding their children, trying to cover their eyes as their father
was assaulted.

“I don’t
believe you. You are lying!”

Another
smack, this time on the other side of the face, caused his head to spin away
from his family, and their cries.

“Stop
hurting my daddy!” he heard Darius wail as another blow landed.

Jason’s
face lay on his shoulder, and he could barely see his family through the tears
that filled his eyes.

“I just
wanted to call my mother,” he mumbled. “To let her know we were okay, and to
not look for us.”

Another
blow.

“Stop
it! Stop it! Stop it!” screamed Ayla, her sobs breaking his heart.

Yet
another blow, this one sending him to the floor along with the chair he was
sitting in. He thought for a moment the beating would end, or at least pause,
but he felt a terrific impact to his stomach as someone kicked him, hard.

He
gasped and cried out, then felt hands pulling him and his chair upright again.
Another smack, leaving him no time to recover his breath, had him desperate for
air. His head lolled to the side and he saw Darius jump up and rush toward
their handler, wailing punches on the man. Maggie screamed for him to come
back, but Darius, his little face red, streaked with tears, continued to punch
as hard as his tiny body would allow. And with the sweep of the man’s hand, he
shoved Jason’s pride and joy across the floor and into the refrigerator.

“No!”
cried Jason. “You bastard!”

The man
motioned at one of the jumpsuits and the next thing Jason knew his handler had
a gun pointed at Jason’s head.

“You
will tell me the truth!”

“I did,”
cried Jason, his eyes never leaving his son who still lay on the ground, his
tiny frame unmoving. “I called my mother with a satellite phone that was in the
office.”

The
handler pushed the barrel of the machine gun harder against Jason’s head.

“You lie
because you want to die!” Suddenly the barrel was removed, and to Jason’s
horror, pointed at Darius. “I wonder if you are so willing to sacrifice your
son!”

“No!
Please, God, no! I’m telling you the truth. I bought the phone before our
fishing trip but forgot it in the lab. How else would I get it? Who here would
give me a satellite phone?”

Another
man burst into the kitchen and handed a piece of paper to the handler, who
quickly read it, then lowered the gun. Slightly.

“Why did
you call your mother?” The voice was slightly softer, but the man was still
irate.

“I
missed her, and I didn’t want her to worry about us. You said you weren’t going
to hurt us if we cooperated, and we’re cooperating. I just wanted her to know
we were okay, and to not try and find us.”

“Why?
Why did you say this last line?”

“I
figured if they thought we didn’t want to be found, then they’d think we went
voluntarily so they wouldn’t look for us.”

The man
lowered the gun, then tossed it to one of the jumpsuits.

“You may
take the rest of the week off to recover, then I expect you back at work on
Monday.” His handler leaned forward, jabbing his finger into Jason’s chest.
“And if you try anything like this again, I will kill your son.”

And with
that they were gone, leaving Jason sobbing in relief, still bound in the
kitchen chair, and his family swarming across the floor, a revived Darius
included, and in seconds, he found himself covered by the ones he loved more
than anything in the world, and the ones he knew would die before he did, as he
refused to do the work that could lead to the deaths of millions, if not
billions.

South East Gate, CIA Headquarters, Langley Virginia

Today, Six Days after the Kidnappings

Chris Leroux sat on the bumper of their SUV, its body shredded by
dozens of bullet holes. Sherrie stood a few feet away, scanning their
surroundings, her expert eye looking for any additional threats. The area
swarmed with security personnel still intent on securing the area. It was
mayhem, but organized, the suspect vehicle being almost immediately surrounded,
their own as well, but not before Kane had effected his escape.

Thank
God for Kane!

Chris
wondered why his friend hadn’t left for North Korea immediately, and had
instead remained to watch over him. They were friends, but not what he would
call good friends. Then again, Chris had so few friends, Kane probably was one
of his best friends, despite almost never seeing him. And perhaps, with Kane’s
lifestyle, he had few friends too. He knew he could trust Kane, and he hoped
Kane felt the same way about him.

Which
might be all that was needed.

Trust.

It
didn’t matter how frequent or strong the friendship, all that mattered was
whether or not you trusted this person, and in the spy game, that was probably
something Kane grappled with every day. And when a friend he trusted might be
in danger, he stuck around to protect them.

He
looked over at his other protector, her eyes never stopping their examination
of their surroundings. He wondered what she was looking for, and snipers popped
into his mind.

He
crouched a little lower.

If there
was a sniper out there, waiting for a clear shot of him, he wasn’t sure how
he’d escape them. His shoulders slumped. He was exhausted. The adrenaline rush
he’d been running on the past twenty minutes, and much of the day in reality,
was wearing off, and his body was beginning to shutdown, demanding the sleep it
knew he needed.

Just
a little while longer.

But
where would he sleep? He knew there was no going back to the apartment, not
until this was over. And when would that be? If the Secretary of Defense was
involved, if eight men in two different vehicles, along with men in a
helicopter, just broke pretty much every law on the books to try and kill him,
would it ever end?

“Get
ready.”

Chris
looked up at the sound of Sherrie’s voice as a row of black vehicles raced
toward them from the Langley compound. A line of custom Dodge Sprint Cargo Vans
looped around their SUV blocking any off-compound line of sight that wasn’t
elevated, and teams of heavily armed security jumped out, swarming the area.
Sherrie grabbed him by the arm as another van pulled up beside them and the
rear doors swung open.

“Get in!”
yelled the Director, the last man Chris had expected to actually see on site. Sherrie
pulled Chris to his feet and pushed him toward the back of the van, where hands
pulled him inside. Moments later the doors were shut and the van was underway,
Chris assumed deeper into the compound, and safety.

“Status
report.”

Thankfully
Sherrie delivered it.

“We
arrived at Mr. Leroux’s apartment”—Chris’ heart stung a little at her referring
to him by his last name—“and I did a standard sweep. I found a bug newly planted,
so I knew we had been compromised. I checked the windows, saw two SUVs in the
parking lot with a group of four men entering the building, the other SUV
idling.

“I told
Chris—I mean Mr. Leroux”—
She does like me!—
“that I was going to take a
shower, set up my decoy but I was too late. Apparently the other team had
already entered and stormed the apartment before I could warn Mr. Leroux and
cover the front door. Fortunately for us, Kane arrived, taking out two of the
hostiles in the living area, while I eliminated the two in the bedroom.”

The rest
of the report was as he remembered, but he was shocked that she had known they
were going to be attacked. And why did she take her clothes off? Then he
remembered. Infrared. They could have been monitored from the outside, so she
had to put on the show of getting ready for the shower. Fortunately for them,
it appeared they weren’t under infrared surveillance and their would-be
assassins fell for the shower trick.

His
stomach churned at the memory of thinking she had been killed, and remembered
how at that moment, he didn’t care if he lived or not.

Is
that love?

He shook
his head, realizing how ridiculous that was. Yes, he was infatuated with this
woman who had worked beside him, forever unattainable, for so long, that turned
out to be a full-fledged agent. As he thought about it, it did explain her many
absences, and her bouncing around to various cubicles over her time there. She
must have been there to watch various suspect analysts, and also sent on
various domestic missions or training. And he was her latest assignment.

I
wonder if she got friendly with others at the office.

The
thought made him burn with jealousy, and he was quickly determined to ask her,
to demand the truth from her.

“Are you
okay?”

Chris
didn’t notice that the Director was talking to him at first, and it wasn’t
until Sherrie gently tapped his knee that he looked up from the jealous funk he
had slipped into.

“Huh?”

She
motioned toward Director Morrison.

Chris
looked, and could tell that Morrison was waiting for a response to a question.

“Sorry,
sir, I was kind of out of it there.”

“No
problem. I asked if you were okay?”

Chris
nodded. “None the worse for wear, I guess. I just need a shower, change of
clothes, and a good sleep. Where I’m going to get any of that now, I don’t
know.”

His
stomach rumbled.

“Oh, and
some dinner.”

The van
came to a halt and the rear doors opened.

They all
climbed out and Morrison pointed to a heavily armed guard. “Take them to
quarters. I’ll be there after I interrogate the prisoners.”

“Prisoners?”
asked Chris.

“Yes.
Two of your pursuers are alive, and I intend to find out what the hell is going
on, even if I have to fly them down to Guantanamo myself.”

It hit
Chris like a wave.
I work for the CIA!
Until that moment it was just
something cool to say to himself. After all, he was just an analyst. But today,
he was in the thick of things, working with agents, running from bad guys,
dealing with the Director at his house, working with Kane.

And
about to take up temporary residence at the massive compound, while men who had
just tried to assassinate him were interrogated by means he probably didn’t
want to know about.

He felt
his chest tighten, and his heart pound as he bent over and grabbed his knees.
It was overwhelming. The realization of the danger they all faced just by
stumbling upon the wrong piece of information, and the evil that existed within
his own country.

He felt
a hand on his back, gently squeezing, and he knew immediately it was Sherrie.
He sucked in a deep breath and stood up, giving her a weak smile.