Название | Hot Intent |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Cindy Dees |
Жанр | Современные любовные романы |
Серия | |
Издательство | Современные любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474000741 |
“Katie! What brings you here today? Is everything okay?”
Which she supposed was spy-speak for Alex hasn’t gone off the reservation already, has he? “Yup. Everything’s great. Thanks again for sending in the cavalry to rescue us from that hit squad and for arranging Alex’s training.”
He leaned back in his chair and pursed his lips. When he spoke, his low-country Southern drawl was a little thicker than usual. “Oh, I don’t know that my crew did that much to help last year. You and Alex had things well under control by the time we arrived.”
It was a lie, but she wasn’t interested in arguing about it today. “I have a favor to ask of you, Uncle Charlie.” She cursed herself silently for using that little-girl tone of voice with him. She was done acting like the baby of the whole damned family. She’d grown up a lot in the past year, and her clan could just get used to it. Although she probably was the first person who had to get used to it.
“Do tell.” His expression went bland and unreadable, his blue eyes oddly opaque all of a sudden. He’d dropped into master spy mode. Alex did the exact same thing.
“You said you’d owe me one if I brought Alex to you. And I did. He’s completed his training, and he has agreed to work for Doctors Unlimited.”
“He’s been out of training for one day. And you’re already calling your chit in? So soon?”
“Yes,” she replied firmly. “I’ve had a year to think about it, and seeing Alex last night only confirmed my decision. I need to find out who Alex’s mother is. The circumstances of his conception, birth and her leaving. Not knowing anything tortures him. I figure it’s the least we all can do for him after what we’ve put him through.”
“Did he talk to you about his training?” Charlie asked quickly.
She frowned. “No. He didn’t.” But why did Charlie react that way after she used the phrase after what we’ve put him through? What on earth did they do to him during his year of training with them?
Charlie leaned back in his leather desk chair. “And what makes you think we know anything about his mother?” Obviously, he didn’t want her to ask any more questions about Alex’s training. She went along with the change of subject.
She shrugged. “You’re the CIA. You can find out anything.”
He steepled his fingers together thoughtfully but didn’t deny the truth of her words. “And then we’ll be even?” he asked.
“Correct. Give me Alex’s mother, and we’re good.”
He didn’t say yes or no exactly, but she got the impression that he was going to look into it. She supposed that was the most she could hope for out of a spy like him. She’d learned that much around Alex. Spies were hesitant to answer questions directly or commit themselves to anything.
As another intern walked her out of the CIA building, it belatedly occurred to Katie that her uncle hadn’t put up much of a fight at the notion of being able to find Alex’s mother. What did he know that he wasn’t telling? Had the CIA already found the woman? It would make sense that in vetting Alex to become an asset for them they’d looked into his mysterious, missing parent. Why, then, hadn’t they shared what they’d found with him out of general principles?
Suspicion blossomed in her gut that there was more to the story of Alex’s mother than Charlie was letting on. Why did it feel like she’d just cracked open the lid of Pandora’s box? Maybe she should slam the thing back shut and put a big, fat lock on it.
Memory of the rage and desperation in Alex’s eyes last night as he fought off his impulse to kill her flashed into her mind. Nope. Whatever evils hid in Pandora’s stupid box, it was high time to let them out and deal with them.
ALEX LOOKED AROUND reflexively, checking for tails or suspicious individuals, as he reached the playground a few blocks from the house. No one who didn’t belong in the area was obvious. If they were out there, they were good enough at their work to stay hidden. Which meant he didn’t have to kill anyone today. Relief trickled into his awareness. He wondered idly if he did something like that in front of Dawn, would she remember it? Would it traumatize her or was she too young to register such violence? He supposed babies and murder didn’t mix. He pushed the stroller deeper into the park.
The sheer normalcy of this place was a shock to his system. After the past year, it was hard to believe that this other world existed...filled with people who were so clueless. So naive. So completely unaware of the dangerous, parallel world that existed alongside this boring, safe, average existence of theirs. Spies and criminals, watchers and killers, were out here. Wolves among the lambs. And he was one of the biggest and baddest wolves now.
Dawn squealed, jerking his attention back to her. She wasn’t old enough to play on the climbing fort or swing in the swings, but she smiled up at the sunshine and waved her arms excitedly whenever other children laughed or shouted nearby. She would undoubtedly spend many happy childhood hours here.
He silently vowed to make sure her life was nothing like his. He’d spent his youth in a virtual boot camp being turned into a future master spy by Peter Koronov. He only hoped that Dawn would never learn to hate him the way he hated his father when he bothered to feel anything at all for the man.
Although after the past year, he was starting to wonder if Peter had been holding back more than Alex realized as a kid. Was it possible that his father wasn’t quite the villain he’d always painted him to be in his own mind?
He reached into the stroller and adjusted Dawn’s hoodie sweatshirt up a little higher around her ears. She smiled up at him and his heart melted at the trust in her dark eyes. He smiled back at her.
His phone rang and he fished it out of his pocket. The unidentified caller’s number was long and began with a foreign exit code and the country code number for the United States. His jaw clenched. Only one person could be calling him from overseas. He knew better than to ignore the call.
“Hello, Peter,” he said grimly.
“Son. How are you doing after your training?”
“Fine. Why are you calling me?”
“To thank you at long last.”
“For what?” Alex asked with long-suffering patience. He’d learned long ago that the best way to get rid of Peter was to play along and not fight him. Peter made people pay when they pushed back against him.
“I was able to warn the foreign minister and president of our country to expect that call from the American president last spring.”
Our country? Russia was not his country. But Peter steadfastly refused to acknowledge that. The man was convinced that, one day, the prodigal son would come home to Mother Russia. Never, Alex silently swore to himself.
Alex turned the rest of his father’s comment over in his mind. His father must have won a lot of political points for being first to warn the Russian leadership that the Americans had discovered the Russian shenanigans in Zaghastan last year. Competition was fierce between Russia’s FSB, military intelligence and a few other assorted secret agencies to see who brought in the best information first.
“They asked me to pass on their thanks to you, my son.”
Peter had given him credit for delivering that intel? What the hell? Was his father pretending to his bosses that Alex was an active FSB asset?
Deep unease rippled down his spine, an unpleasant reminder of how dangerous a man his father was. What game was Peter playing at now?
His father was speaking again.