Читать книгу Identity Crisis - Kate Donovan - Страница 12

It took Kristie six hours to locate a car for Manny Mannington, and while the mileage was higher than he had specified, she knew a SPIN crew could roll back the odometer and spruce up the details enough to fool the bagman and his bride. Predictably, Manny was eager to consummate the transaction as soon as Kristie made e-mail contact with him, and by 2:00 a.m., West Coast time, they had a deal.

Elated, she tried to reach McGregor in his San Diego hotel room but was only able to leave him a message. It was tempting to suggest he call her back regardless of the hour, but again she wanted to respect the loner in him, so she provided highlights of her coup in the message itself. Tomorrow would be soon enough to share the rest of the details. And she had to admit, her neck and shoulders were bothering her, courtesy of Ray’s knifing lesson, so she forced herself to be sensible and crawled into bed.

Coups aside, she was still achy and groggy the next morning. So she dressed in jeans and a black knit pullover instead of her usual bargain-basement suit before heading to SPIN headquarters, where Ray Ortega was waiting in the reception area.

“My office. Now,” he instructed her.

She followed him into the room and closed the door. “Am I in trouble again?”

“There’s a basic self-defense course starting the first of next month at my health club. I want you to enroll.”

“I told you, I already took a course. Plus, I have Betty Bop as my personal trainer. I’m ready for the big leagues.” She smiled. “But if your offer to teach me personally is still open, that’s a different story.”

“Last night reminded me why I can’t do that,” he told her, adding gently, “How’s your back?”

“I’ll live.” She gave him a hopeful smile. “If you hadn’t pulled that little switcheroo, I still think I could have kicked the ruler out of your hand.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, actually, it was a good kick. Just save it for the bop bag from now on.” Clearing his throat, he added gruffly, “Let’s get down to business.”

He handed her two sheets of paper, then motioned for her to sit down, while he moved to his seat behind the desk. “Sign on the dotted line. Unless you want to consult a lawyer first.”

She scanned the first page, which was a consent form allowing SPIN to monitor her cell phone. “No problem. Can I borrow a pen?”

Ray handed her one. “It doesn’t explicitly exempt conversations with your aunt and uncle, but you have my word that we’ll respect your privacy on those calls.”

Kristie gave him a grateful nod. “We rarely call each other these days, since they’re always traveling, and the time zones don’t match up.”

“That must be rough.”

“On me? Hardly. I mean, they raised me and I love them to death, but after I left for college, the relationship went back to how it was when my parents were alive. Loving but distant.” She winced, knowing that the words didn’t do justice to the huge sacrifice her childless aunt and uncle had made for her. “They’re always there for me, and vice versa. But they have to travel so much, we use e-mail to keep in touch.”

“That’s covered on page two.”

Grimacing, she turned her attention to the second sheet of paper. “My personal e-mail accounts? Are you going to bug my apartment, too?”

“Do we need to?”

She shrugged as she signed. “What a week.”

“I know. But you saved a little girl’s life. That counts for a lot.”

“Not only that—” she began, anxious to tell him about McGregor’s call, but his secretary interrupted, buzzing him loudly on the intercom.

“What is it, Beth?”

“Someone named Jane Smith is on her way up. She claims she’s an old friend.”

“Shit.” Ray inclined his head toward the door. “Excuse me, okay? We’ll pick this up again later.”

“Who’s Jane Smith?”

When his only answer was to arch an eyebrow in mock reprimand, she jumped up and saluted just as playfully. “I’ll be at my desk if you need someone to yell at later, sir.”

“Get going, smart-ass.”

His tone was light, but Kristie wasn’t fooled. He didn’t want her to be around when the mysterious Jane Smith arrived.

Intrigued, she stopped at David Wong’s cubicle on her way to her own. “Hey.”

“Hi.” He leaned back in his chair and studied her casual outfit, then arched an eyebrow. “Late night?”

She nodded.

“Hot date?”

“Knife fight.” She plopped herself into his extra chair. “What do you know about a woman named Jane Smith?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because she’s on her way up. And Ray won’t tell me who she is.”

David glanced toward the glass-walled office. “It’s need-to-know information. And you need to butt out.”

“Lovely.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m not leaving until you sing like a canary. Starting with the name. It sounds fake.”

He shrugged. “I never met her. She worked with Ray a long time ago. That’s all I know. Honest.”

“There she is.” Kristie watched intently as a tall woman with shortly cropped brown hair emerged from the elevator and strode toward Ray’s office. The visitor’s navy blue pantsuit was smartly cut, and she appeared to be in her midthirties. Not particularly pretty, but so confident she immediately owned the place. “Good grief, David. I never met a real dominatrix before.”

“Shush.”

“Tell me about her. Please?”

“I don’t know anything,” he insisted. “And even if I did, I’ve got work to do. And that ringing in your ears is your operative line, if that matters to you.”

She jumped up. “McGregor! I’ve got to get that.” Sprinting for her cubicle, she managed to grab the receiver one instant before the call rolled over to voice mail. “McGregor?”

“Goldie? Great. I was about to leave a message on your voice mail, but wasn’t sure whether to address it to you or Melissa.”

She sank into her chair, delighted to hear his sexy voice, but also a bit sheepish over answering her SPIN line as informally as she’d done. “Did it go well last night?”

“Better than well. Manny was so relieved about the car, he showed up at the bar just as it was closing.”

“And? Did you commiserate together?”

“I didn’t want to overplay it, so I just slipped out of the place without even talking to him. But the bartender got an earful from me before that. If we’re real lucky, he filled Manny in. If not, I’ll do it tonight.”

“Perfect.” She moistened her lips. “The car will be ready today, but I’ll delay delivery until Friday. That should give you plenty of time to bond.”

“Yeah. I think this will work.”

A shiver of pride coursed through her. “Call me tonight, okay? I won’t be able to sleep until I hear how it went.”

“It could be three in the morning your time,” McGregor protested. “You’d better learn to pace yourself, S-3. This could go on for weeks, you know.”

“Kristie!” It was Beth, calling to her from across the room, then motioning toward the closed door to Ray’s office. “He wants to see you right away.”

Kristie could see through the half-opened blinds that Jane Smith was still in Ray’s office. Conflicted, she murmured, “McGregor? I have to go. But I’ll call you back—”

“Not necessary. I just wanted to say thanks. Take it easy, Goldie.”

She winced as a click echoed through the phone wire. He had sounded so final.

And after all we’ve meant to each other, she reprimanded him, only half joking. But as frustrated as she was over the FBI agent’s attitude, she had to admit that the prospect of meeting Ray’s mysterious visitor was a great consolation prize.

She only wished she hadn’t dressed so casually today of all days. But there wasn’t time to change into the spare suit she kept hanging in her cubicle, so she settled for smoothing a few loose hairs back into her French braid, then hurried to Ray’s office.

“Come on in, Kristie.” He motioned for her to take a seat at the round conference table in the far corner of his office, where his visitor was already sitting. “This is Jane Smith. She runs a counterintelligence unit for the CIA.”

CIA. Kristie tingled as she joined them at the table, but quickly reminded herself that six short months ago, the initials F-B-I had impressed her, too, and now it was just another acronym.

“Nice to meet you,” she told Jane Smith.

She could see now that the woman was older than she’d appeared from afar, perhaps in her midforties. Fine lines surrounded her pale blue eyes, and a few gray hairs were sprinkled among the chestnut ones.

But it was the agent’s attitude that really made an impression on the spinner. Take-charge, despite the fact that this was someone else’s turf.

“May I call you Kristie?” the woman began.

“Yes.” She was tempted to ask if she could call the agent Jane—assuming that was her real name, which seemed doubtful.

The visitor arched an eyebrow. “You’re getting quite a reputation. Did you know that?”

“A reputation?”

Smith nodded. “Your skill as a profiler makes sense, since you concentrated your studies on abnormal psychology. But your talent for strategizing. Improvising. Creating opportunities out of thin air. That’s impressive. To what do you attribute it?”

“Curiosity maybe?” Kristie shrugged. “I’m pretty eclectic in my interests, and I like figuring out how and why things work. Or don’t work. Especially the way seemingly innocuous variations can affect a result. In other words,” she added cheerfully, “I’m a nerd.”

The agent nodded in apparent agreement. “The tiniest detail can spell the difference between success and failure. And in my line of work, the difference between life and death. I suppose that’s the same for your so-called spinning, although on a less dramatic scale.”

“It’s dramatic enough for us,” Ray retorted.

Smith gave him an amused look. “You haven’t changed. Still competitive as hell.” Turning her attention back to Kristie, she said, “I’ve asked Ray to loan you to me for a couple of days. He’s going to say yes because the president wants him to say yes. Isn’t that right, Ray?”

“Loan me to you?” Kristie’s pulse quickened. “To design a strategy for one of your operations?”

“A backup strategy. My best people have already come up with the primary plan, and it’s as close to foolproof as possible, given the multitude of ‘variations’ as you call them. But this job is important—as important as anything I’ve ever done, and definitely more important than anything you’ll ever handle. So—” she smiled grimly “—I decided to get an outside opinion.”

Kristie’s ego bristled, and she expected Ray to defend the importance of work done at SPIN, but he simply said, “We’re willing to help within certain parameters.”

“Which are?”

“You’ll brief us. Both of us. Then you’ll go away. Kristie will design the scenario under my supervision, and when she’s done, we’ll send it over. If you have questions, the three of us will meet.”

“You’re afraid I’ll try to steal her away from you?” Smith rolled her pale blue eyes. “Believe me, that’s not on the agenda. What I like most about this girl is that she’s a civilian. Trained by you—the best profiler in the business, and a pretty good strategist in your own right.”

When Ray ignored the compliment, the agent shrugged her shoulders. “Kristie can bring a fresh perspective to this. That’s all I need. So your rules are fine with me. In fact, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Barely able to contain her excitement despite the tension between Ray and the agent, Kristie demanded, “What’s the assignment?”

“You’ll find what you need in here.” Smith pulled a folder from her briefcase. “It’s fairly straightforward. Your security clearance is something of a joke, so the details are sketchy. But that shouldn’t matter. All we’re asking you to do is plan a good old-fashioned heist.”

“Pardon?”

“I thought that would intrigue you.” The agent’s eyes twinkled. “Our target is a wall safe, hidden in an inner room in a mansion in Palm Springs, California. We have reliable intel on the layout and the security. But we’ll only get one shot, so we want to get it right.”

“What’s in the safe?”

“A disk, maybe two, containing the names and positions of half a dozen moles in sensitive positions in federal government. We’ve known for some time that the owner of the mansion, a shipping magnate named Kenneth Salinger, was working for the other side. We’ve been watching him, and were about to move in when we heard about the disk. We want it.”

“I don’t mean to sound naive, but if you know exactly where it is, and you have grounds to arrest Salinger, why not just—”

“Get a warrant?” Jane Smith burst into laughter. “Why didn’t I think of that! My God, Ray, she’s priceless.”

Ray shot her a silencing glare. “It’s a reasonable suggestion. I suppose you’re saying Salinger has some sort of contingency in place?”

“He and his people are armed with remote devices,” Jane confirmed. “They’d blow that safe in an instant if they thought we were on to him, much less arresting him.” To Kristie she added, “If we showed up out of nowhere at his front door, the disk would be destroyed before our people could start down the hall. Our best chance is to sneak in and get it, then arrest him.” She stood up and secured the latches on her briefcase. “We originally planned on going in this weekend. Salinger’s hosting a cactus show on the premises and we could easily put someone there undercover. But instead we’re going to use it as an opportunity to gather additional information, so we may have more for you in a couple of days.

“Meanwhile, just look over the file. Start getting a feel for it. Do whatever it is you do to research the alarm systems, et cetera. And get to know Salinger—he’s a real piece of work.” Smith’s tone softened. “You’ll undoubtedly have questions. That’s fine. I’ll come back on Friday to answer them. And if you want my team to gather particular intel during the cactus show, just make a wish list, and they’ll see what they can do. Is that clear?”

“How soon will you need the final product?” Ray asked.

“There’s another big event at Salinger’s house in three weeks. Some sort of art auction. We’d rather not wait that long, but access is such a bitch in this situation, we don’t seem to have a choice. Unless of course your spinner comes up with something we missed.”

Kristie raised a finger to interrupt them. “I have a question.”

“Another one?” Jane Smith’s reaction was almost a sneer. “I hope it’s better than the warrant brainstorm.”

The spinner silently counted to ten, then leveled a no-nonsense stare directly into the agent’s eyes. “You’re CIA. This is a domestic operation. Is jurisdiction a factor here?”

“Homeland Security is coordinating this. And my team is detached to the FBI as consultants. But believe me, we’re running the show. Do you have a problem with that?”

“Me?” Kristie shrugged. “I just don’t want to break any laws.”

“Since when? You talked to that juvenile detainee without his parents or attorney present,” Jane Smith reminded her coolly. “If it hadn’t been for that little stunt, I wouldn’t be here even if you were the best strategist on the planet. So save the holier-than-thou attitude for the folks back on the farm.”

“That’s enough,” Ray warned.

The CIA operative laughed. “I agree. Kristie? Study the files. See what you can come up with. We’re particularly interested in the best routes for entry and for escape.”

“Although technically, once you get in and acquire the disk, you don’t really need to get out. Just execute the arrest warrant, assuming you really have one,” Kristie suggested.

When Jane Smith winced, Ray chuckled with pride. “Sounds like Kristie has all the information—about your mission and you—she needs. See you Friday.”

“I can hardly wait.” The agent gave them a haughty glare, then swung her briefcase off the table and strode out of the office.

“Wow, I hope she’s not someone you care about, Ray, because—” Kristie paused for emphasis, then insisted “—what a bitch.”

“That’s the general consensus.” He patted Kristie’s hand. “Be careful, okay? Help them out, but run everything by me first. She’s a dangerous woman. Good at her job, but ruthless and ambitious.”

“You guys have a past?”

“We worked together for a couple of years. Not a time I’m particularly fond of. But it taught me a lot. Now I’m teaching you. Don’t trust her.”

Kristie cocked her head to the side. “For example…?”

“For example, I wouldn’t be surprised to learn she’s not after a list of moles at all.”

“Wow. What do you think she wants from that safe?”

“Who knows? It probably is a disk of some sort—she’d want to be accurate about that detail so that your plan takes size, weight, et cetera, into account. But the contents of the disk are anyone’s guess. All we know for sure is, this op will further her career. And if we’re not careful, it’ll do so at our expense.”

“That’s pretty cynical.”

“But accurate. She’s always been that way. But now that she’s getting a little older—a little slower—I’m guessing she’s even more desperate. Ergo, more dangerous.”

The spinner sighed. “Okay, I’ll be careful.”

“Good. But have fun with this, too.” He touched her hand again. “It’s a helluva compliment. And she was right about one thing—you’re something special. Thanks for making SPIN look good.”

Kristie felt her cheeks redden. “Like she said, I was trained by the best. So…” She gathered up the Salinger file. “I guess I’d better get started.”

“Yeah. I’ll transfer all your active assignments to David for the next few days.”

“Ooh, that reminds me. Guess who called last night. Will McGregor.”

Ray seemed genuinely surprised. “Why?”

“That toy-salesman cover wasn’t working because the target was busy trying to get out of the doghouse with his ingenue wife. Forgot her birthday.”

“Sounds like the Bureau needs to send someone else in. With a different cover. David can take that on.”

“McGregor and I worked it out. Came up with the perfect birthday present, et voilà! The assignment’s back on track, and McGregor and Manny have something to bond over.”

Ray arched an eyebrow. “What time last night did McGregor call you?”

“This all happened before I had a chance to announce the new rules. The new old rules, I mean.”

Ray laughed. “I’m not worried. It’s McGregor, after all. He’s not going to make a habit of it, so no harm done.”

“Right.”

She bit her lip and Ray seemed to notice right away, demanding, “What now?”

Kristie flashed what she hoped was an innocent smile. “When you tell the operator to direct my calls to David, make sure that doesn’t include Justin Russo. Okay?”

“Russo?” Ray practically spat the name. “I thought he was in Tahiti.”

“He is. But he’ll be checking on Lizzie Rodriguez’s condition. If he calls me with an update, I want to hear it.”

Ray’s scowl disappeared. “Yeah, okay. Calls from Russo will go directly to you. And when you hear about the kid’s condition, let me know right away, too.”

“You’re such a softy,” Kristie told him, adding nonchalantly, “And calls from Agent McGregor should come directly to me, too, okay?”

The scowl returned. “Didn’t I just say David will take over your assignments?”

“You also said McGregor won’t make a habit of it. Which means if he calls, it’ll be important. And it’ll be about Melissa. David can’t possibly deal with that.”

“You dragged Melissa into another case?” Ray’s frown returned. “Someday you and I are gonna have a long talk about you and your alter ego.”

“And meanwhile?”

“Sure, McGregor’s calls can go to you. But don’t hold your breath. Like I told you yesterday, he’s a professional.”

Kristie suspected Ray was right. McGregor wouldn’t contact her again—or at least, not without a little encouragement. So she called him that evening just to touch base. “Did the photo of Melissa arrive?”

“Yeah. She’s pretty hot,” he said teasingly. “The guys at the bar are gonna love her.”

Kristie’s cheeks warmed. “I promised to concoct a few stories for you about her. Such as, you met her at a doll show. She was wearing a ruffled sundress and a wide-brimmed straw hat. Very sexy. Very Southern plantation.”

McGregor’s deep laugh rumbled over the monitored line. “Southern plantation, huh? No wonder I went nuts.”

“You never stood a chance.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet.” He cleared his throat. “Is the photo based on you?”

“It’s computer generated,” she insisted. “If there’s nothing else, Agent McGregor, I’d better get back to my new assignment. Feel free to call if you need me. Or if you just want to brainstorm a little. We’re a team now, you know.”

“Yeah, I’m starting to get that,” he admitted. “I’ll check in tonight. Take it easy until then.”

And right on schedule, he began calling her in the middle of the night as soon as he’d left the bar, updating her on his heart-to-heart talks with Manny, who had almost instantly proclaimed McGregor to be the brother he had always wanted. And while the lovesick thug still didn’t discuss “business” with his new friend, he did begin telling other secrets, and McGregor was pleased with the progress.

Kristie, on the other hand, craved victory not progress. “I keep trying to think of some way to catapult this to the next level,” she told the agent in frustration. “Something you can say to him to make him trust you so completely, he can’t resist sharing details about the syndicate.”

“Patience, Goldie,” McGregor advised her. “Some things are worth waiting for. I promise.”

Did he mean it to sound so seductive? she wondered. So prophetic?

Some things are worth waiting for…

“Okay,” she told him, struggling to keep her tone cool. “We’ll be patient.”

“Right. Manny’s like a fish. We’ve got him hooked. Now we’ve just gotta reel him in.”

So much for seduction, she told herself with a wry laugh, but aloud she insisted, “I’m all ears, McGregor. Educate me.”

To her surprise, he proceeded to do just that, giving her a string of examples from his own early undercover experiences. And while the nominal reason was to teach her the value of patience, she was sure he was also trying to strengthen their newfound connection. The stories were work related, but also profoundly personal, providing glimpses into his life that she hadn’t dared dream she’d ever get.

She needed those moments, not just for the visceral thrill and occasional romantic vibe, but also to keep her from becoming obsessed with the Salinger file, which was easily the most challenging case she had ever faced.

And even if it wasn’t, she was determined to design a scenario that truly knocked the socks off a certain bitchy CIA agent.

As for Salinger himself, Kristie was learning he was one scary guy. No criminal record, but the CIA file identified him as the mastermind behind several “accidents” that were undoubtedly assassinations. He had made a fortune in shipping, which provided both the financial means and the network for his anti-USA activities, while also allowing him to be perceived by the community as a respectable businessman. He left most of his dirty work to a certain bodyguard known as the Axe—a psychopath devoted to serving his boss’s interests.

Salinger’s defining characteristic was his thirst for revenge, which translated into a profound hatred for his native country. It drove his every waking thought, fueled by his certainty that his younger brother’s death in the Gulf War had been orchestrated by high-level U.S. officials to prevent a lucrative contract for one of the president’s campaign contributors. According to the CIA’s file, there was no truth to Salinger’s suspicions about his brother’s death. But given Ray’s cynical assessment of Jane Smith, Kristie reserved judgment on whether the file was accurate on that issue.

Meanwhile, she focused her attention on the target: Salinger’s Palm Springs estate. It was an oasis, carved from the desert, irrigated by the snowcaps of the nearby mountain ranges and resplendent with every luxury known to man, including a private golf course.

The triple-crowning glories of the place were Salinger’s world-renowned cactus garden, his collection of priceless paintings, housed in a rotunda-style gallery in the center of his home, and the art gallery’s domed skylight, fashioned from delicate Italian glass that had been tinted blue and white to resemble a sky filled with clouds.

If Jane Smith’s intel was correct, the safe containing the disk was hidden behind one of the paintings in the glass-roofed gallery. And the more Kristie studied the situation, the more convinced she became that she had to see that gallery in person. Providing the reconnaissance team with a wish list seemed inefficient, when she could go on the scouting trip herself. And since the venue would be a harmless garden party, there was no danger at all, either to the mission or to Kristie personally. The actual operation would still be weeks away and by then, she would be safely back to the East Coast.

She wondered if Jane Smith would see the wisdom in allowing Kristie to attend. Or would the agent just use the suggestion as an opportunity to ridicule SPIN—and Kristie in particular? And even if the agent could be convinced, Kristie knew Ray Ortega would never allow her to actively participate in an operation, however harmless.

But he might just agree to send Melissa Daniels.