Chapter 7: Alpha’s Mission: Chapter 6

Annabel’s burner phone rings on our way down the mountain. She looks at the screen, then meets my inquiring gaze. “Washington, D.C. It might be Senator Flack.”

“Answer it.”

Her hands tremble a bit as she slides the phone on. “Agent Gray speaking.”

“Annabel, hi. This is Senator Flack returning your call.” With my new and improved hearing, there’s no conversation I can’t eavesdrop on—including Annabel and her sister’s yesterday about me. The senator sounds warm and friendly, almost grandfatherly.

“Senator, thank you for calling me back. I know you were director of the CIA when my father died, and I remember you coming to the funeral.”

“Yes, that’s true. Your father was a friend of mine, Annabel. He was employed as a covert agent under me.”

“Can you tell me what his mission was when he died?”

Senator Flack goes quiet for a moment. “You know I can’t do that, Annabel. You should know better than to ask. It’s way above your security clearance.”

“Yes, I understand that. I do. I just wanted to know… well, never mind. You’re right. I shouldn’t ask.”

“Annabel, your father died a hero. He served his country. It makes no difference whether he did it for the Marines or the CIA.”

“Right. Thank you, sir. That means a lot.”

The Senator goes on a bit about keeping America strong against our enemies, one of his main platforms when he runs for office. It’s a bunch of political hot air, but he the way he preaches it is compelling.

“Annabel, are you at Langley?”

“No, Senator, I’m in California.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. I would say we could have lunch sometime if you want. I can share some old stories about your dad.”

She glances at me, and I nod—meeting with this guy could give us more information. “Actually, I’m headed to the Capitol today. I’d love to have lunch. Would tomorrow work?”

“Yes, yes that would work nicely,” he booms. “Call me tomorrow morning, and I’ll give you a location.”

“Sounds great, thanks.” She hangs up. “Did you get all that?” she asks me.

I nod. I may have a big secret to keep from her, but I won’t lie if I don’t have to. She might just assume my excellent hearing is part of my field agent super skills. “It doesn’t sound like he knows.”

“Yeah,” she gnaws her lip. “But he was the director the CIA at the time. Is it possible there was a cover-up—kept from him?”

“I don’t know, but I’m sure we can get the answers if we keep digging. Is that what you want?” I notice she backed down with Flack. Maybe she’s ready to drop this.

She nods, still looking distant.

I take my right hand off the wheel and grab hers. “Hey, whatever happens, it’s gonna be okay. We’ll find the whole story about your dad.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Don’t be afraid of the truth. You’re strong. You can handle it.”

“Thanks, Charlie,” she whispers. Fuck, but I love my name on her lips.

So does my cock. It perks up, ready to stand at attention.

“So,” I say a bit louder to get her attention and my own thoughts under control. “Are you ready for this?”

“Absolutely,” she almost giggles, but it’s a nervous laugh. I can smell the fear radiating off her thanks to my new and improved mutant senses.

She’s not a field agent. Hell, she pulled her shot when my wolf was going to break down the door and kill her family. I’m not used to second-guessing my decisions, but I’m doing so now.

“I could go in alone. You don’t have to come with me.”

She rolls her eyes. “I need access to Tentrite’s office and see for myself what she’s hiding. Besides, I wouldn’t let you do this alone. I hate that I roped you into all of this, but here we are. We’re a team. For better or for worse.”

I hope it doesn’t come to that. Still, the scent of her fear plays on my ingrained need to protect her. Shelter her.

“It’s going to be near impossible.” I have a plan that will get us in under the radar, but still…

“I love a challenge.” Her voice is steady, her gaze resolute. She may be scared, but there’s no way I’m talking her out of this.

The defiant gleam in her eyes combined with the heady anticipation of danger makes my cock strain its confines. The sooner this is over, the sooner I can have her spread out under me.

“Get ready.” I shift the car gears and pull onto the main road. “We’re gonna break into the CIA.”

Charlie Dune is a madman. That’s all I can conclude. Who breaks into the CIA?

When we realized Agent Tentrite wiped my dad’s file, I was ready to call the trail a dead end.

Which brought us to the present moment.

“So, what are we going to do?” I ask, trying not to squirm in my seat of the rental car. We’re waiting in a parking lot of a shopping mall.

“Break into your boss’s office. Look for evidence of who ordered her to terminate your dad’s file.”

“I know that.” The thought of committing an act of espionage against my own employer has been the only thing on my mind since Charlie first suggested it. “I meant are we going to do it?”

“Trust me.” Charlie gets out of the car as a nondescript van pulls up next to us. An older man in a navy jumpsuit exits the driver seat.

“Hey, Charlie.” The man’s face breaks into a grin.

“Otis.” Charlie pumps the man’s hand. “Good to see you.”

“Where you been?”

“Here and there. You know how it is.”

“I do, I do. Hello, there,” Otis greets me as I approach.

Charlie puts his arm around my shoulders. “This is my friend. Her father used to work in the service.”

“Pleasure, pleasure.” Otis bobs his head. I note that Charlie doesn’t use my name.

“Did you get my message?” Charlie asks.

“I did. I think it’ll work. I usually have a crew working that floor tonight, anyway.”

“What?” I gasp. How often had this guy broken in?

They chuckle at my shocked expression. “Otis works there,” Charlie says as Otis opens the side of the van door and pulls out matching overalls.

“Today,” Otis says, “you do too.”

“This feels like a long game,” I whisper to Charlie as we walk down a corridor. We’re in the basement of the CIA, having infiltrated as janitors. Not the scale-and-rappel kind of action I was expecting—kinda anti-climactic, really—but certainly effective.

“It pays to be nice to people,” he whispers back and holds a door open for me. I push a janitor’s cart. We pass a guy in a suit, headed home after a long night. His eyes skim past our uniforms and cleaning supplies like we’re invisible.

I wait until we’re in the elevator to turn to him. “Seriously, did you know you’d be doing this someday?”

He shrugs. “It seemed like a possibility.”

I bug my eyes out at him.

“Otis is a friend,” he explains. “He owes me a few favors.”

“And he just happens to work at the CIA?”

“Used to be in the field. He got injured and didn’t want to sit and collect disability checks.”

Come to think of it, I noticed Otis walked with a slight limp. “So, he became a janitor?”

“He likes to keep an eye on things. Make sure the higher-ups are doing the right thing by their spies. Sometimes, the desk jockeys aren’t as loyal to us in the field as they should be. Otis watches the watchers.” Charlie holds a finger to his lips. “Don’t tell my handler.”

I stare at him a moment, trying to figure out what else I don’t know about Dune the soldier-spy. What other interesting friends he has.

“What?” he murmurs.

“You’re different than I thought.” He stiffens slightly, so I add, “Not in a bad way. I just remember when I first met you, I thought you were an arrogant hot-shot. I never guessed you’d be willing to help me this far. Or have a backdoor into the CIA.”

“I have a little depth.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “And I’m discerning about where my loyalties should lie.” His gaze heats the space between us, and I nod, swallowing. In this close space, there’s suddenly not a lot of air.

The elevator opens on the floor of Tentrite’s office, and Charlie takes over, pushing the cart down the hallway. He goes right up to Tentrite’s door and opens it with Otis’ key.

“Anything out of place?” Charlie asks.

I look around, pulse jumping. I’ve been in here before for routine meetings, but this is totally illicit. We’ve been threatened, chased, shot at. If I get caught in here, there’s a good chance the government will make me disappear—permanently. No, maybe I’m over-analyzing.

“What’s the penalty for this, do you think?”

“I think we better get through our search and leave before someone catches us and we find out.” He gives me a gentle push.

Yeah, I wasn’t overanalyzing.

We search in silence, wearing gloves. Fortunately, it fits in with the janitor act. I dust a little as I go, just to make our cover credible. Tentrite has every award she ever won on display. A few statues litter her bookshelves—trophies from a volleyball championship in college. I’m surprised she doesn’t have ones from middle and high school as well. I dust while rolling my eyes.

Charlie searches the desk. When I pass close to him, he’s meddling with the phone.

“You’re bugging the phone?”

“Yeah.” He shows me the tiny patch. “New issue to field agents.”

“Won’t she recognize it?”

“Only if she thinks to look. Which hopefully won’t happen for a few days. That’s all we need.” He sounds so confident I believe him.

“What about her files?”

“Nothing of note.” His face changes. “Someone’s coming. Get in position.”

Heart pounding, I grab a window wand and a bottle of cleaner. Dune ducks behind the desk—I guess it would seem weird to have two janitors in one office. I keep my face turned to the glass. My hands shake so hard, I almost drop the bottle—twice—before spritzing the window. The wiper clatters on the glass.

Is it weird that my inner cheerleader sounds like Charlie?

I listen hard for footsteps and finally hear them down the hall. Charlie must have super spy senses to pick up on such a slight noise. I guess that’s why he’s a field agent and I’m not.

I tune everything out and focus on being the best one-night janitor ever. I spray more cleanser and get into a rhythm—wipe, wipe, spray, wipe, wipe, spray. It’s almost soothing, and it keeps my attention until Charlie stands up.

“All right,” he says. “They’re gone.”

“About time.” I let my arms drop, limp with the strain of acting normal. I’ve been cleaning the same spot on the window over and over. If I had to play janitor much longer, Agent Tentrite would be walking in tomorrow to a hole in her window. “Who are all these weirdos working late?”

“You’re one to talk,” Charlie snorts as he continues searching the file cabinet. “When was the last time you took a vacation?”

I feel a pang remembering how many times I talked about doing Disneyland with Sarah and Grady but never really planned anything. No, I haven’t done anything fun since… I don’t know. Elementary school?

I force a smile. “This week actually. I’ll have you know I had a relaxing stay in a cabin in the woods.”

“Really? Sounds creepy.”

I have a snappy comment ready when I remember the giant wolf that tried to get inside. I swallow, my stomach flip-flopping in a way that has nothing to do with the fact that I’m rifling through the papers on my boss’s desk.

“It wasn’t so bad. Except for this annoying guy who kept hanging around while I was trying to relax.” I glance over and see a shadow of a smile on Charlie’s face.

“Annoying guy? Could be trouble.”

“I think I can handle him.”

“I think he won’t know what hit him.”

I turn back to my search. My pulse is high, my blood humming with happiness. Adrenaline has hit, and I’m not nervous anymore. Just… giddy.

Either that or I’m falling in love with Charlie, the super spy.

He crouches and opens a file cabinet door. “Bingo. Found the safe.”

I peer over his shoulder at the black box that looks like it means business. “Can you crack it?”

“Fingerprint and voice recognition,” he indicates the fingerprint pad, and I slump.

“Damn.”

“Hang on. Don’t give up yet,” he murmurs and reaches into his overalls. “Otis gave us a few gifts.” He pulls a black cloth over his finger and shows me the pad on the end.

“Her fingerprint?”

“Lifted fresh this morning.” He presses his cloth covered finger down on the pad and waits for the beep before lifting the finger to his lips to keep me quiet. His left hand produces another long and slender silver device. When he hits the button, Agent Tentrite’s voice states her full name clearly.

I hold my breath until the safe clicks open.

“Jackpot,” Charlie mutters. He pulls files out by the handful, setting some aside, giving the rest to me.

In silence, we page through everything. Charlie stops me once or twice, closing the cabinet door when he thinks he hears someone coming. I obey even though I never hear a thing. He really does have super spy senses.

The clock above our heads ticks on as we sift through the files. I hand each one back as I’m done with it, and Charlie replaces it carefully in the safe. Leave it to him to know exactly how it was organized.

His breath catches for a second, and I raise my head. “Find something?”

“Nope.”

Drat. “I guess it’s too much to expect a file marked .”

Charlie’s lips quirk. “That’d be convenient. Somehow I think your boss is more circumspect.”

But then I see one file stuffed inside another file. My heart quickens, fingers tremble as I yank it out. My gasp makes Charlie turn.

“It’s my dad’s,” I confirm. I want to stuff it in our janitor trash can, run to a better lit room and read it.

“Here,” Charlie grabs the contents of another file and switches them with my dad’s.

“Will that fool her?”

“With a little luck.” Charlie tosses the file into the trash can and hands the trash bag to me. “A few days is all we need. Come on.” We slip out of the office.

“Hey,” a male voice booms. A guy in a rumpled suit and prematurely wrinkled face walks toward us with squeaky shoes.

I give a little shriek and knock the mop off the cart. “Oh! Um, what?”

“Since when do janitors work in pairs?”

Charlie’s body language changes to slumpy. He gives his nose a swipe with the back of his hand. “I’m trainin’ her.” His voice inflection is totally different—like he’s bored and belligerent at once. “Otis didn’t have time.”

The guy gives us both a thorough look, one that has my stomach sinking to my shoes. Even if we get away in this moment, he’s going to remember both our faces. It will be simple to identify us.

“I don’t mind the training. Makes the job go faster. Working alone can get boring, you know.” Charlie rearranges his balls through his thick uniform and affects a gross nose sniff.

Disgust shows on the agent’s face. “Right. Well, get back to it, then.”

I purposely knock the mop over again, like I’m Clumserella and hurry to put it back on the cart. “Okay, where to now?”

Charlie lifts his chin at the next office over, and I wait for him to open it. We both go in, and he shuts the door. I stare at him with wide eyes.

He holds up a finger, watching the guy’s back retreat onto the elevator. As soon as it closes, we both exhale. Or maybe I exhale loud enough for both of us, I’m not sure.

“That was close. Do you think he’s suspicious?”

Charlie opens the door. “I don’t know. Let’s not stick around to find out.” He hustles me away.

I’m sure we’re going straight down to the parking lot, but Charlie takes the elevator upstairs, to another floor.

“Where are you going?” I follow him down the dark hall, biting my cheek, so I don’t complain about his excellent night vision. I can barely see until he stops in front of an office and goes in. “Oh no. Are you serious?”

The nameplate reads .

“Charlie,” I hiss as he moves around the murky shadows. “You can’t bug the Director’s office.”

Before I know it, he’s out. His kiss brushes my temple as he passes.

“Just did,” he murmurs.

We’re halfway to the elevator when it dings. Before the doors open, Charlie presses me up against a door and kisses the hell out of me. I push at him a little, realizing someone is coming down the hall toward us. Then Charlie’s tongue sweeps into my mouth, and I’m lost—lost, whimpering, and pressing against him as his length hardens against my thigh—

The lights cut on and I jump. Charlie releases my lips but keeps his hands on me, angling his body to block most of mine from the slick, suited security man standing nearby with an eyebrow raised.

Charlie flashes a charming smile. “Sorry, mate. Otis sent us on an errand and…” He glances back at me and heat shoots through my body, warming my cheeks. “I saw an opportunity and took it. Just got carried away.”

“Can I see some ID?”

Oh holy hell.

Charlie whips out a badge with his picture and some other guy’s name and flashes it. While the guy’s looking at it, Charlie does some sleight of hand and produces one for me, too.

I don’t breathe. Not one little wisp of air.

“You two need to move along, now,” the security man says. His brows are stern, but he looks like he’s fighting a smile. “Have a good night.”

Charlie cuts a suggestive glance at me. “I’ll try.” They share a little man-to-man smirk, and the guy walks away.

At that moment, I’m ready to jump Charlie’s bones.

Sexy super agent man—it turns me on to see how cool he is under all different circumstances.

We’re almost to the elevator when I realize I didn’t completely shut the Director’s door. The elevator is taking its sweet time coming up for us. It’s almost at our floor when the security guard sees the Director’s door, then glances back at us. He hesitates as if questioning his instincts. Two janitors, he’s never seen before, on a secure floor, and we only cleaned one office before leaving. He’s putting the pieces together. I see the moment we’re made.

“Hey,” the guy turns, drawing his gun at the same time. “Stop right there.”

Wide-eyed, Annabel raises her hands.

“Something wrong, man?” I ask, feigning surprise. He wouldn’t have a gun on us if he didn’t suspect something.

“Stay there,” he orders. “I’m going to check something.” Gun still trained on us, he pulls out a walkie-talkie. I can’t let him call this in.

I push Annabel behind the janitor cart.

“Freeze,” the guard shouts and drops the walkie-talkie.

Before he shoots, I’m down the hall. I grab his shooting arm just as the gun cracks.

Damn. Pain reverberates through my head—super sensitive hearing reacting to the gunshot. Behind the cart, Annabel squeals.

“Stay down,” I tell her, in between flipping the man over onto the ground, grabbing his gun, and breaking his arm with a crack.

The elevator dings. I can’t risk the doors opening, and someone sees this scene.

I’m back at Annabel’s side before the guy I hit slumps to the ground—lightning fast moves, another gift of the monster.

“This way.” I grab her hand and walk down the hall. The guy I hit is out—cracked his head on the floor when I flipped him. Otherwise, he would’ve screamed when I broke his bone. I wrap my untucked shirt around my hand to open the door and usher her into the stairwell. “Come on.”

We hurry down the stairs. I keep my hand on Annabel, steadying her as I reach for my comms unit.

“Otis,” my friend answers.

“We’ve been made. Shots fired. Call the police.”

“Roger.” Otis sounds calm.

Annabel wobbles and I scoop her up, increasing my speed. I’m tempted to just stand on the railing and jump down few remaining stories. With my newfound strength, I’d probably be fine.

I resist the urge, and when I reach the bottom, I set her down.

“That man,” Annabel whispers. “Is he dead?”

I check my memory—the guy’s chest rose and fell as we left. “He’ll be fine.”

“I’ve never seen anybody move so fast.” She sounds so shaky, I reach out to steady her, then hesitate. She doesn’t though, just clings to me. She doesn’t know about the monster, but that might not last for long. It’s getting harder and harder for me to hide.

“Sorry.”

“What for? You saved my life.” She grimaces. “I guess no one told that guy if he shoots first, he can’t ask questions later.”

I say nothing, just hold her. After a moment, she steps away on her own. My lungs are full of her rich scent. She smells sweet, like candy. The fear in her has faded—replaced by one strong overriding emotion—desire.

“Is it wrong that I’m totally turned on right now?” she asks with a sparkle in her eyes.

“Adrenaline. Common side effect.” I’m two seconds away from pushing her up against the wall and fucking her so hard, she can’t walk for a week. Judging by her scent, she wouldn’t mind.

Just then a thought occurs to me. “Shit, did you grab the file?”

With a grin, Annabel opens her coveralls enough for me to see the bit of paper tucked in her shirt.

“Good girl.” Annabel might want to go in the field, but I’m not ready for that. I can’t think straight around her, especially if she might be in danger.

“What now?” She looks at me with such trust—as if I’m a hero.

I hope we find the truth about her father soon. Before she finds out what I really am.

I reach past her and push open the door—the one marked “Emergency Exit Only – Alarm Will Sound.” The sound starts right away. After a moment, it mingles with the whine of the cop cars filling the parking lot. Blue and red lights wash over the people evacuating the building.

With an arm around her, I escort her out of the building and blend in with the dismayed and curious staff.

“False alarm?” someone asks.

“Probably just a glitch,” another answers. “Stupid sensitive equipment—always malfunctioning.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Otis pull up in his van and stop right on the edge of the lot, blending with the shadows. In the chaos and confusion, no one even glances at Annabel and me as we amble in that direction and blend away into the night.