Who Said Witness Protection Was Boring? (Mobster Mayhem #2)

5. Matthew

5

Matthew

Kieran still looks dumbfounded when we arrive at what I assume is the regional HQ of the CIA. It’s an inconspicuous office building located in Lower Manhattan. The first floor is a fake luxury restaurant.

“Doesn’t this pose a security risk?” I ask as we are led through a keycard-controlled side-entrance into a lobby. There is a single receptionist and an armed guard next to a metal door. “I’m sure it’s convenient for lunch, though. Does the CIA offer food money?”

Kieran masks a laugh by faking a cough. Bucks seems a lot less impressed by my sense of humor as the only reaction I get out of him is a nasty glance. I think he doesn’t like me, and I suspect it’s because I kind of overruled him and forced him to do things my way. Sort of.

The thing is, I didn’t do it to be an ass. It’s just that I’m not very good at handling pressure and I can, unintentionally, be a bit of a pain to those around me. It will pass as soon as I regain a semblance of control over my life. Like being able to pick my own bodyguard. Or getting the answers I’m owed if they want me to cooperate.

Both the Deputy Director and Kieran show their badges to the woman seated behind the reception desk. She keys something in and nods at the guard, who waves a card at the metal door’s access terminal.

“Please, proceed to face scan,” the woman says, pointing at the device.

Once that’s done, the door opens, letting us into a spacious elevator. There is a camera inside it, the red dot blinking. I’ve never been to a government building like this one. Or at least for a reason like the one that brought me here. It’s a little intimidating. I peek at Kieran, who’s leaning his back against the metal panel with his eyes closed. He looks relaxed. On the other hand, I feel like there are barbs under my skin that are trying to rip it open and spill out.

Kieran cracks an eye open, his mouth lifting a tiny bit on one side.

“What?” I half-whisper, half-hiss.

He tilts his chin and pushes off the wall just as we arrive and the door opens. I turn around, walking out after Bucks.

Whoa . I take in the interior. Now that’s something.

“Relax. I’m your security detail now. You are in good hands,” Kieran says close to my ear, his warm breath eliciting goosebumps all over my neck.

My heart speeds up a little, shivers chasing down my back. I blame that partially on the still soaked clothes I am wearing. But the rest is the busy and definitely movie-like interior of the CIA office. And five percent was Kieran’s closeness.

I sniffle, suppressing a shudder.

“Yeah, I’m starting to really feel it too, Matt. Don’t worry, I’ve got some spare clothes here. I’m pretty sure they’ll fit you.”

I bite on my lip as another shiver slides down my spine and hits me in the stomach when he ruffles my wet hair. Okay, maybe Kieran’s part is more like fifteen… to twenty-five percent at most. But it’s totally warranted. I mean, he saved my life. Plus, I just remembered how his strong, muscular arms felt holding me. Safe, protective, able to squish my neck and kill me.

“Yeah… Uh, that would be nice. I don’t want to catch a cold,” I say, banishing away that train of thought and focusing on the busy office.

It’s the open-space type. Monitors line up long desks, which are organized in rows on the left side of the central aisle. A kitchenette peeks from the corner, and the smell of coffee lingers in the air. To my right, a massive screen is covered with various stats and diagrams of… stuff. I can’t really tell what it is. People with laptops sit at round tables that crest it, discussing between themselves whatever secret missions they are on.

“Agent Stevenson, get changed and bring new clothes for Mr. Bauer,” Bucks instructs. “We’ll be in the Hudson Room.”

With a dip of his head, Kieran goes off somewhere. I watch him as he meanders his way around the desks. He says something to a few people, but the exchanges are quick and done in transit. I guess they are colleagues and know each other.

Deputy Director Bucks takes me to a small room with glass walls situated near a seating space with a couple couches. As soon as we enter, he closes the blinds.

“Would you like something to drink? Coffee, tea?”

I could go for a milkshake. With extra whipped cream. But I guess that’s not on the CIA’s menu.

“Coffee, please.”

Using the phone mounted near the projector board, he instructs someone to bring three coffees. Then he sits down, and we wait in awkward silence. Luckily, it’s not for long as a guy with thick-framed glasses brings our drinks just a couple minutes later.

I’m about halfway done with my coffee when Kieran returns. He’s traded his black cargo pants and jacket for a pair of dark blue jeans and a black shirt. He’s also holding a tracksuit top and bottom in one hand. They don’t exactly look like they are CIA-issued.

“They might be a bit long, but they should fit,” he says, scrunching one side of his mouth. “I’ll show you to the restrooms.”

Or I could just change here? But I guess this works, too.

I bounce my attention to Bucks, who gives Kieran a pointed look before waving me off to go.

“I don’t think he likes me,” I tell my agent as we round the corner into a corridor lined with doors.

Kieran makes an amused noise. “You must be imagining it. I can’t think of a single reason why the CIA’s Deputy Director wouldn’t like you.”

“Ha-ha. Hilarious. Don’t pretend you aren’t the biggest winner here, Agent Stevenson .”

He points at a door with a silver label, then follows after me. “I have no idea what you are talking about, Mr. Bauer .”

I pause in front of the sinks and mirrors and turn around, planting my hands on my hips. “He practically kicked you off my case. Despite you begging to stay on it. If not for my amazing negotiation skills, you’d be home eating pizza in front of the TV right now.”

He cocks an eyebrow, cataloging me from head to toe. “That doesn’t sound half-bad, you know.”

“Oh, c’mon. Don’t pretend! I know you want to know what this is about as much as I do.” I snatch the clothes from him, discovering that there is a pair of briefs and socks thrown into the mix. Thank fucking god. My ass is freezing.

He raises his arms. “Okay, fine. But just so we are clear, I am fully capable of protecting you.”

I know that. I can’t explain how, but I trust him. Maybe it’s because of how he handled things tonight, or maybe it’s one of those gut feelings you are just supposed to follow. Either way, if the CIA wants me to cooperate, Kieran Stevenson is the only person I am willing to talk to until I have a better idea of what I have gotten myself into.

I tuck my hand inside my pocket and squeeze the box Chrissy gave me. It’s the only thing I have left of her and Gordon.

“You do have it, don’t you? The asset ,” Kieran says, his eyes locked on my pocket.

“Does it matter? Bucks already agreed to tell me what the fuck is going on.”

He grins. “You are something, Matthew Bauer, I’ll give you that.”

“Why, thank you. Now fuck off and wait outside. I’d like to change.”

“Feeling shy?” he teases, ambling toward the door as I start on my left shoe.

“Who, me?” I huff a snort and wave him off. “Please. I’m just being considerate, agent. Wouldn’t want you facing a disciplinary because you couldn’t keep your hands off the hot witness.”

His laughter booms around me, echoing off the walls. It sends little vibrations across my skin that make me shiver for an entirely different reason than being cold. “You wish, sweet cheeks. You aren’t even my type.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“Oh?” He spins around, his bright eyes shining as they take me in. “I don’t know, Matt. Maybe if you grew another five inches—”

He dodges my shoe like he knew exactly where I’d throw it. It’s quite impressive.

“Stop messing around and get changed! I’m told Bucks isn’t the patient type,” he says, laughing as he leaves me alone in the restroom.

A woman in a beige pantsuit has joined the Deputy Director when Kieran and I return to the Hudson Room. She gives off a no-nonsense vibe that preemptively puts me on alert. I’m still feeling a bit like this is all some wacky dream my brain has come up with after passing out from a food coma. But I’m yet to wake up from it, so at this point I just have to accept that this is my new reality. My world got turned upside down in the matter of an evening and now my life is very possibly in danger.

“Good evening,” the woman says. “Or should I say good morning? Midnight passed quite a while back. I’ve heard you’ve had quite the eventful night, Mr. Bauer.” That, ladies and gents, is the understatement of the year. “I’m Rebecca Davidson, Director of Central Intelligence for the CIA.”

I gawk at her. What the fuck is the CIA’s big boss doing here? The asshole next to her was plenty. But if he’s felt the need to call his superior, then this is way way bigger than I thought it would be.

“Uh, hi,” I say awkwardly and sit across from her. Kieran takes the chair next to mine.

She hands me a dozen documents. “Before we begin, I need you to sign these.” A second stack is slid over to Kieran. “Likewise, Agent Stevenson. This is something that wouldn’t usually fall under your jurisdiction.”

Jesus Christ. This will take me until tomorrow to read through.

“These are standard NDA-s,” Kieran whispers to me discreetly as the woman leans over to Bucks and tells him something.

“Yeah? And what’s stopping you from lying to me?”

“I thought you trusted me. Isn’t that why you requested I be your security detail?”

I scoff. “Hold your horses, cowboy. Who said anything about trusting you? You are merely the least suspicious individual around here. Plus, you saved me once.”

He arches an eyebrow, a subtle smile playing at his lips. “Good point. You should always read whatever you are about to sign or you might end up signing off your third cousin’s horse for slaughter because you didn’t read the terms.”

I gasp silently. “Shit, how do you know about Terry?”

He rolls his eyes. “Section three is what you need to pay attention to.” He flips through his stack of documents, signs them, and then he slides them over and leans back into his chair.

Biting on the inside of my cheek, I skim through the contents, making sure there aren’t any hidden clauses. Then I sign and hand them to Rebecca. She thanks us and takes her leave, which strikes me as a bit odd. I mean, was it necessary for the Director to come all the way here just for this? But then again, what do I know about secret services bureaucracy?

“Okay. With this out of the way, what would you like to know, Mr. Bauer?” Deputy Director Bucks says, lacing his hands on top of the round table.

“For starters, what my aunt and her husband were doing for the CIA. Why were we attacked? By whom? What is this asset you are after?” I shoot a hard look Kieran’s way. “What really is this Molniya thing? Why didn’t she tell me about any of this? I thought she and Gordon worked for an IT company…”

Bucks hums, rubbing the edge of the desk. “Christine and Gordon were Black Ops and as such were not allowed to disclose their occupations. Their main focus was undercover jobs and espionage abroad. We don’t know who attacked them, but we believe it’s because they came into possession of a very important asset.”

It takes me everything not to groan. Yeah, no fucking shit it’s because of this asset! I swear all these CIA types do is hedge. “What is it?”

The Deputy Director seems to contemplate whether or how much to tell me, but eventually sighs. “It’s an experimental device that can be weaponized. That is all we know. Your aunt discovered its existence via Project Sparrow. It’s a program that aims to identify and secure foreign assets that pose a threat to the United States.” He doesn’t say it, but I’m pretty sure ‘or that can benefit it’ is implied. “She must’ve issued code Red Molniya because her capture was imminent, and an emergency extraction was required for the assets in her possession. This includes those handed to civilians when the alternative is them ending up in enemy hands.”

I swallow hard. Fuck, this sounds serious. I had no idea Chrissy was involved in something like this. I’ve always thought she was a badass, but this is next level stuff.

“Okay,” I say dumbly when the man keeps glaring at me expectantly.

“So, you see why, Mr. Bauer, it is paramount that you cooperate. It’s not just your life that’s on the line, but the safety of the entire United States.”

I shift in my chair until I can feel the solidity of the box with my thigh. Uh-uh. No pressure at all, Matty . “When you put it that way…”

Deputy Bucks claps his hands, a sleazy smile replacing his frown. “Great. Since it seems we are finally on the same page, I’d like to know where the asset it.”

There’s not even a ‘please’. What a demanding asshat. But well, the ball is still in my corner, and I have every intention of wiping the smile off his face.

Now, it’s not that I have a bone to pick with the CIA or the FBI or whatever. He just rubs me the wrong way. Authority types do, in general. Plus, unless I look out for my own interest, they will use and abuse me and toss me aside when they are done with me like a hookup past their expiry date.

No thanks. I’m not just a fish in the sea. I’m an actual catch. Impossibly charming. Smart. With a great sense of humor. I have a fit body and I’m just plain wicked in bed. My only downside is that I’m compactly sized, but I more than make up for it.

“About that…” I flash him a nervous smile, fingering the left lace of the tracksuit top Kieran handed me. It’s longer than the right one and I’ve been trying to even them out, but so far, I haven’t managed to do so. In addition, the clothes smell vaguely of smoke and sweat. They are also a little big on me, so I am pretty sure they are Kieran’s and not the property of the CIA.

“Mr. Bauer. This is not a game,” Bucks urges me, frustration seeping through his words.

“Right. Of course.” I produce the box out of my pocket and slide it over to him.

He opens it, storm clouds settling over his face.

Still smiling, I lift my hand and bring my index finger and thumb together. “So… There is a tiny problem. I was afraid that I might get caught, so I hid the contents in a secret spot.” I wince internally at his outraged expression. “In a plastic bag. So, they won’t get damaged. I, uh, will take Agent Stevenson there tomorrow.”

“Mr. Bauer,” the Deputy Director shoots up, banging his fists on the desk as he clearly loses all his remaining patience. I do my best not to grin like an idiot. It’s not that I find it funny—I mean, I do, but that’s beside the point. It’s more of an automatic reaction to people being frustrated with me. “Stop playing games! I don’t think you realize the gravity—”

“I do,” I cut in, crossing my arms over my chest and puffing it out. “I promise your asset is safe. No one will find it. But look at things from my perspective. I get dragged into this and my life suddenly takes a nosedive. I was playing games at home and now I’m suddenly sitting in the regional headquarters of the CIA after someone tried to kill me because my aunt passed me a box that’s worth killing for. You want me to trust you? Fine. But you gotta show you are ready to trust me, too. And yes, I am aware you could probably take me to a torture room to find out where I hid the contents, but I’m telling you it’s not worth the trouble. Or the budget adjustments. I swear I’ll take Agent Stevenson to the spot tomorrow. But only him. No tails, no tracking devices, okay? He will be my bodyguard and liaison.” I take a deep breath, sagging my shoulder. “Do we have a deal?”

Technically, I already signed the agreements and NDA-s, but it’s not like I’m asking for much. Plus, if they were going to extract what they needed from me and disappear me, they’d already have done it.

“Young people these days,” Bucks mumbles, sighing as he rubs his forehead. He keys something in on a tablet he pulls out from under the desk. “Fine. Agent Stevenson, a unit will accompany you to one of our residential safehouses. They will keep watch overnight. You may collect any belongings you need from your place after you and Mr. Bauer retrieve the asset and bring it here. Once you have left the safehouse, I want you to report every hour.” He turns back to me. “Are these arrangements to your satisfaction, Mr. Bauer? I think I’ve given you a lot of leeway that many witnesses just don’t get.”

Well, it’s a good thing I’m a special witness then, isn’t it?

“Just one last thing. Can we also go shopping?” I flash him a smile. “After the briefing, of course. Your bad guys burned all my stuff.”

He waves me off. “You may. But after that, you are to keep a low profile until we have a plan in place. Am I clear?”

“Like a glass of freshly squeezed lemonade,” I confirm.

He looks at me like I’m a dog that has spoken to him in English for the first time. Next to me, Kieran forces down a snort.

“Just go.”

I chug down the last of my coffee and hop up, suddenly itching to leave. “Sweet, we’ll be on our way then. Good night and it was lovely meeting you.”

Kieran herds me out of the office before the Deputy Director has even responded.

“Well, that’s just plain rude,” I complain.

Shaking his head, he quickens his step. It causes me to kind of have to jog to keep up with his longer legs. “He looked just about ready to shoot you.”

“Who? Me?” I blink innocently, pulling another smile out of Kieran. I like it on him. It softens the resting frown he seems to have mastered.

“You are a menace. Anyone ever tell you that?”

“That implies someone would get close enough to actually talk to me.” I bare my teeth and growl jokingly. “People tend to keep their distance because of how intimidating I look.”

Kieran’s eyebrow shoots up to his hairline. “That’s it!” he says as we board the elevator next to the one we used to get here. “I just realized what you remind me of!”

Oh boy, do I even want to know…? Ah, who am I kidding ? Of course I do.

“What?” I ask cautiously, giving him a warning look.

The doors open a couple seconds later, revealing an underground parking lot much like the one at the CIA’s warehouse building. The guy who drove Kieran’s car over is already waiting for us. Two more agents are standing next to him. They nod as we approach, hand Kieran a slip of paper and get inside a civilian jeep.

“We’ll follow after you. The address is inside,” the one who I assume is more senior between them says, rolling the windows down.

We get in Kieran’s gray sedan. He inputs the address and backs out of the parking space, then heads up to the street level. He’s still not said what I remind him of. I peek at him. Hello ? It’s kind of unfair to leave me hanging like this.

By the time we’ve merged with the traffic and headed out of Lower Manhattan, I’m dying to know what he had in mind. I try to get over it—who cares, it’s totally not important—but the more I force myself not to think about it, the stronger the urge to know becomes.

“So…” I lead in eventually, gazing out the window at the blurry lights of buildings and passing traffic. The rain has let off in this part of New York, but I doubt it will stop fully.

“Mhm? You got something to ask me, Matt?”

I can practically hear the smile in his voice, even if I am not looking. He knows exactly what I want to ask, but he’s going to make me ask it anyway. Hmph . See if I care.

“Nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

I groan on the inside. “Yes, I am sure. I was just wondering if we could get some food. I’m a little hungry.”

“Sure. I’ll send one of the agents to get us something.”

“Cool. That’s all I wanted to know. Nothing else.”

“If you say so.”

Grr . He knows, but he’s pretending he doesn’t.

We slip into silence again. But since we aren’t talking, my mind circles back to our conversation in the elevator. The need to know becomes so strong, I can feel it lodging in my throat like a lump.

“So, what do I remind you of? You still haven’t told me,” I blurt out, scoffing in annoyance at him.

He laughs. “That sure took a while.”

“Shut up.” I flip him. “And tell me already.”

“You remind me of one of those small dogs. The fluffy ones. Pomeranians I think they were called. They are noisy, bark a lot and like attention. But when it comes to bite…” he glances at me, his lips lifting higher on one side.

I shove him in the shoulder. “Oh, fuck off. I have plenty of bite. You think the CIA’s Deputy Director would’ve agreed to my terms otherwise? And, need I remind you, that the only reason your ass didn’t get kicked off what I guarantee you will be the biggest case in, like, forever, is because of me.”

He bumps me back. “Who said I needed your help? I had things under control.”

“Oh yeah? You sure? It certainly didn’t seem that way to me.” I hug myself and hold my chin high. “You should be thanking me, Agent Stevenson . Not calling me a Pomeranian. If anything, I am a German Shepherd pretending to be a Golden Retriever, so people underestimate me.”

“That’s a big statement you are making. You sure you don’t want to scale down a bit? We can agree on a mini schnauzer and call it a day. I hear they are really good at catching rats.”

“Fuck. You.” I blow air out of my nose. “I am not anything mini . You think you are the shit just because you are taller than me. But you’ll see. As soon as this shitshow is over, I’ll get my motorcycle license, buy a bike, and be ten times more badass than you.”

Chuckling as we turn onto a quiet road, Kieran throws me a smug look. “You wanna know a secret?” He reaches back and fumbles with the jacket he’s thrown over the backseat, pulling out his documents. Then he hands me his driver’s license while fighting off a smirk. I skim over the text, my heart kicking up a fuss when I get to the class field.

No fucking way.

This know-it-all already has a motorcycle license.