The Cinderella Mission. Catherine Mann

languages. “How long since we last heard from him?”

      “Dr. Morrow went silent three days ago.” Hatch clicked through a series of keys on the laptop in front of him. “I’m transferring copies of all the transmissions to your data bases. They’ve already been decoded, but I’m hoping you’ll be able to find something more.”

      Why all the worry about an agent going silent for seventy-two hours?

      Hatch shoved up from his chair, his restlessness apparently winning out as he poured more coffee from a corner bar. “Two hours after the last transmission, we lost total contact. The signal on Morrow’s tracking device went dead.”

      Silence echoed, broken only by the drip of the coffee maker and the low hum of fluorescent lights. The covert transmitters were virtually undetectable, and so pricey only operatives in deep cover warranted the expense. Even super space-power countries with access to a constellation of satellites barely stood a chance of detecting the nanosecond microburst of data from the tracking device, activated only when an agent disappeared.

      Just three causes came to mind for a surgically embedded transmitter to fail. Satellite interference. Physical removal.

      Or complete destruction of the agent.

      Kelly’s breakfast bagel weighed like lead in her stomach.

      Hatch turned to face them. “I’m employing agents throughout Holzberg to search. Now I need to work the stateside angle. Morrow’s last transmission points to a shakedown of some sort at an upcoming European summit in DC. Ethan, your social connections make you the obvious operative to slide in place.”

      Damn. Kelly mourned the impending loss of that gorgeous hair of his about to be sacrificed for appearances. “And why am I here, sir?”

      Hatch could have easily sent the transmissions along with a memo.

      “The summit ends with a gala celebration and jewel display. We’re fairly certain from Morrow’s intel there will be a hit. With any luck, tracking those responsible for the attempted heist will give us a lead back to Morrow. For safety’s sake Ethan’s date needs to be one of ARIES.”

      He couldn’t mean—

      “And what better partner than an expert in the regional languages of the dignitaries attending?”

      “Partner?” Ethan’s eyes narrowed.

      Already Kelly could feel the constraints of her desk loosening their hold, the weight of that SIG-Sauer in her hand. Excitement tingled over her. Only because of her first real field assignment, right? Not because of her partner on that assignment.

      “For the next two weeks, you’ll be joined at the hip 24/7 right up to the night of the gala.”

      Ethan half stood. “But, sir…”

      “You and Taylor will make the perfect couple.”

      Chapter 2

      Couple?

      Ethan dropped back into his chair. “A couple?”

      Just as he chose his women with their eyes wide open, he preferred his partners with more experience. Kelly sat across from him, her peaches-and-cream complexion shouting innocence. She studied him with those doe eyes for three seconds before her head fell forward. All that sable hair glided onto the open file in front of her.

      Hatch couldn’t really expect to throw her into a Code Delta with only her entry-level training. Ethan’s instincts screamed a red alert. A missing agent linked to missing jewels? Something didn’t add up.

      The ARIES director cupped his mug with both hands. “The couple cover is common, but effective. Hopefully you’ll be able to avert a heist attempt prior to the gala. If not, I need you both in place. Taylor’s facility in European languages will prove invaluable.”

      Fan-freaking-tastic.

      He would get to spend the next two weeks exchanging language-of-love quips with her.

      Kelly looked up. “Sounds like a practical application of my specialty.”

      Her do-me-honey tones wrapped around languages with as much power as they twined through a man’s libido.

      His libido.

      Ethan reminded himself to stare squarely at her innocent face for his reminder that the voice was a red herring.

      Except her warm brown eyes deepened to onyx with excitement over the impending assignment, and he couldn’t help but wonder if sex would bring the same heat to her eyes. “Sir, with all due respect, I can handle this one alone.”

      The spark in Kelly’s eyes muted to muddy brown. Ethan refused to let her wounded-puppy look sway him. He was just thinking of her safety.

      Yeah, right. “I don’t need backup. Kelly can perform any language analysis from here without the risk of putting her in the field.”

      “Maybe, maybe not.” The director’s restless feet tracked the room, taking him past a line of mementos down one wall that included diplomas from his scientific background. The man had been a grassroots planner in everything from missile programs to genetic testing. “I’m not willing to risk it. Davidson and Juarez will be at your disposal to coordinate anything you need back here at headquarters. Anything.”

      Finally the director stopped by a four-drawer safe. Reaching toward the back, he pulled out a bottle of vodka. “Do you know what this is?”

      Ethan worked to follow the director’s train of conversation. “Aside from the obvious? No, sir.”

      He turned to Kelly. “Taylor?”

      She shook her head, staunchly avoiding Ethan.

      Hatch held the bottle up to light. “There’s an old tradition in the agency and the military. Many leaders keep a bottle similar to this. Whenever an agent or soldier dies, a toast is lifted in honor. The weight of responsibility is as strong as if a family member has been lost.” He traced his finger along the empty space a quarter way down the bottle as if remembering a face with every shot glass. “I don’t want a drink with Alex Morrow’s name attached.”

      Ethan watched remorse flicker through his mentor’s eyes and surrendered to the inevitable reality of two weeks with Kelly. Aside from being honor-bound to protect his fellow operative like family, he owed Hatch for giving him a reason to live after Celia died.

      If Hatch needed a kidney, Ethan would start cutting. “Consider Morrow found.”

      Hatch nodded. He replaced the bottle with cradling care before turning back to face them, all traces of emotion long gone. The director had returned. “Taylor, this will be your testing ground. Succeed and I’ll expedite your request for upgrade to full operational status.”

      She sat straighter, her hair sliding back over her shoulders, swinging along her bulky sweater. “I’m ready for the challenge.”

      “Take the afternoon to review the directives uploaded to your computers and let me know if there are any questions.” Hatch stepped behind his desk in tacit dismissal.

      Kelly stood, swiping wrinkles from her ankle-length skirt. “Thank you for this opportunity, sir. I won’t let you down.”

      Ethan gave himself a three-second window to avoid bumping into her outside the door and rose slowly.

      “Ethan?”

      Hatch’s voice stalled his steps. Ethan pivoted. “Sir?”

      The director pinned him with a calculated look that made Ethan want to check his back for an ambush.

      “I realize you’re going above and beyond coming in off R and R. I consider this a personal favor that deserves to be rewarded. I pulled something for you from the CIA archives.” He nudged a battered-looking file forward. “The file on your parents’ deaths.”

      The file’s ragged state