6. Kieran
6
Kieran
We arrive at the house the CIA has prepared. It’s a small two-story with a cozy backyard featuring a deck with a barbecue corner and a red oak that keeps most of the space under shade. The rain has let off, turning into a drizzle. The clouds have begun clearing off the eastern skyline, allowing the morning sun to peek through the gaps.
By the time I park and get from the car to the house, it’s the start of a lovely day. I check my phone. It’s just after six-thirty a.m. I’m exhausted, but I still have the issue of the asset to resolve.
After I input the security code at the door, I turn around. Matt is standing at the base of the stairs where the awning begins. His head is tipped back and his eyes are closed. It looks like he is enjoying the early spring sunshine, like in this very moment no stress is plaguing his mind.
I lean one shoulder against the concrete column of the door and glance behind him. The two agents have parked their car across the street by an oak. It blends in with the other vehicles since this is one of those suburbs where you have to earn six figures and up to be able to afford living here. It’s an interesting choice for a safehouse, but then again, the CCTV and community patrols make it generally safer. Plus, compared to the impressive modern houses around it, this one is on the humble side.
“What are you doing?” I ask after I watch Matt for a couple of seconds.
He cracks one eye open, the green in it intensifying from the light. It looks almost alive, twinkling and shimmering and causing something in my stomach to pulsate. The hickory color of his hair looks almost red, curtaining his face like a halo of fire. With his shorter height and the mix of delicate elegance alongside unassuming masculinity, it makes him look angelic.
“Soaking up sunshine, can’t you tell? It’s been raining for days, and I need my Vitamin D.”
Shaking my head, I open the door and motion him inside. “C’mon. Let’s go in. It’s chilly.”
He pulls on the hem of my tracksuit top and examines it. It’s charmingly big on him. Scrunching his nose, he shrugs and ambles inside. “You don’t happen to have a pair of PJs I can borrow? Mine kind of burned when my house was set on fire.”
I lift the duffle bag I retrieved from my car. “No, but I have some clean shorts and a couple of T-shirts. You can have those.”
“Thanks.”
I lock up, then check out the house while he gets settled in the lounge. It’s spacious and bright, connecting to the kitchen space via a breakfast counter. I drop my duffle on the artsy glass coffee table in front of the equally weird zebra-pattern couch, then beeline straight for the fridge. As expected, it’s empty.
“What do you feel like for breakfast? We’ll order in. As for the fridge, we’ll stock it later,” I toss at Matt, who’s draped himself over the second couch. This one is modular and designed to resemble the stony bottom of a river.
He sighs dramatically as he reorients himself into a sitting position and waves me away as a yawn rips out of him. “I think I need sleep more than food right now.”
I prop my ass against the edge of the counter and observe him. His head droops first, then his entire body sags. I think he’s crashing. He’s reached his limit. But we don’t really have time for that. I can maybe let him nap for an hour or two, but after that we need to retrieve the asset.
“How are you still standing?” he mutters, his voice deep and groggy. “Or did you, like, sleep during the day? Must be nice. I was too excited the night before, so I just tossed in bed until the morning. I feel like a fucking zombie.” He chuckles humorlessly, half-groaning. “I was meant to start my motorcycle lessons, you know. I mean, I did, technically. But they kicked me out ‘coz I am too short and light and the bikes they had were just too fucking heavy. It’s not like I can’t get used to it, though. Shorter people than me ride. For real. But the stupid instructors just didn’t want to bother teaching me ‘coz it’s too much work.”
I lower myself into the armchair by the window, opening the curtains. “Is that really why they turned you down?”
The semi-darkness reigning across the room is replaced by early-morning light as the sun spies in on us from between the wide crown of the neighbor’s evergreen tree. Matt frowns and hisses like a vampire, burying his face in his palms.
“Ugh. You’re evil. Did you really have to do this? I was just starting to drift off.”
“Sorry, sweet cheeks. Can’t let you depart to dreamland. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.” I slide my fingers up the leather armrest, rubbing the seam where it angles up. “Unless you tell me where to find the asset. I’ll retrieve and hand it to the Deputy Director while you stay here and sleep.”
Matt drops his hands and scowls at me. “Nice try, cowboy. But it’s not happening. Besides, I need like thirty minutes to get the asset for you, okay? We’ve got plenty of time to sleep in.”
I relax in the chair and close my eyes. Part of me is already regretting this. I think I might have underestimated how much of a handful Matt will be. But, if I am being honest, another part finds that a little exciting. Witness Protection isn’t exactly the most lucrative job… typically. But, from the get-go, this has been anything but typical. I still don’t have the full picture; I’m not sure the Deputy Director has it, too. And even if he did, what he told us last night is only a fraction. That’s just how things work in the Agency.
But it doesn’t mean I’ll settle for that and be the obedient pawn they expect me to be. I don’t play that way. I have to get to the bottom of this by any means necessary, because this might be the only way to figure out what led to the accident that took both my parents away from me.
“It will take over an hour just to get to Queens,” I point out, letting the tension of the long night leave my body.
Matt isn’t completely off the mark. About us having some downtime before we jump into the fray. I could really go for a hot shower right about now. A comfy bed would be nice, too… though only if they let me go back to my place. I sigh internally. Which they won’t. It’s standard procedure, since protecting the witness is a 24/7 job.
When Matt doesn’t say anything back, I open my eyes. He’s studying me with great intensity as if he’s trying to crack the mystery of the Universe’s creation.
“I’m afraid we have to head out soon. Thirty minutes is the most I can give you,” I tell him.
“C’mon, dude! That’s not enough to even fall asleep.”
I prop my elbows on my knees and lean forward on my hands. “Then tell me where the asset is.”
He tsk -s at me. “Nah. Not happening.”
“Why? I thought you insisted I be your security detail because you trust me. I promise I won’t screw you over or anything.”
He pouts, crossing his arms. “Uh, hello? Who gave you that idea? I only picked you because I had a somewhat good feeling about you, okay? I don’t trust you one bit, I told you.” He pauses, seemingly struggling to articulate himself. I relate—I’m not really a morning person either. “Plus, I trust your boss way less than I trust you.”
“You already helped me not get booted off the case, so work with me then. Unless you give me a chance, how am I going to convince you that I am one hundred percent trustworthy?”
He scrunches his nose. “But you still work for the CIA.”
I grin and get up, heading into the kitchen for a glass of water. “I do. On paper.”
His mouth hangs open. “Wait. What ?” He jogs after me, practically buzzing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Gulp. Did I say too much?
I spin around and ruffle his hair. It’s kind of fluffy, even though bits of it are still damp from our midnight adventure. “Nothing. Just that I am after the same thing you are. I want to know what’s really going on. So, if it means working with you to keep the higher-ups in check, then I’m happy to do that. Granted, you are, too.”
His eyes narrow at me, surprise and apprehension written all over his face. But the spark from earlier—from when we were running from danger in the middle of the night—returns, too. It’s devastatingly potent as it stares up at me, livid and unstoppable like a flood on a mission to drown the whole Earth.
“Ok. Fine,” he huffs out after a couple tense heartbeats pass.
I nod. “But for this to work, we need to establish at least some level of trust between us. Telling me where you hid the asset is a great first step.”
He frowns and then frowns some more. “I’ll need something incriminating to ensure you won’t turn on me the first chance you get.”
I stifle down a chuckle. It’s healthy to be suspicious I’d say, but what sorts of movies does he watch? Then again, his life was turned upside down in a matter of hours. He thought his relatives lived normal lives only for them to end up being Black Ops who died because of an asset the Agency has been hunting down for years.
“Deal. My parents worked for the CIA and died while on duty. I was told it was an accident, but I always knew there was more to it. So I joined the agency and started digging. It’s why I was the one on call last night. I pulled a few strings and got to sub in so I could dig in a few more places which I’d normally not have access to. Then the call came.”
He slowly blinks at me, the glass of water he got himself half-lifted to his mouth. “Wow. You’re pulling my leg.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not. I can show you the case evidence I’ve collected so far. It’s in my apartment and… it’s not exactly legal. It can get me into a lot of trouble. We can swing by and pick it up after the meeting.” I chug my own water down and rinse the glass. “It’s your turn. Where did you hide the asset?”
He chews on his bottom lip, flashing me a sheepish smile. “Okay, I’ll tell you. But don’t be mad. And promise you won’t rush to your boss with it. We’ll go at noon as agreed.”
I raise an eyebrow. “What’s with the requirements?”
He shrugs. “You want me to trust you? Then do as I say. Your story was cool and all, but until I see the evidence, there’s no guarantee you didn’t just make it up. So, if you want to prove to me that you really meant what you said, you’ll stick to the plan.”
There is a plan? This is the first I hear about it.
I’m not one to take people’s word for things either. But I guess I could play along. Matt will bring the asset to the Agency sooner or later. He can’t stall forever. So if letting him be in charge wins me his trust, I’m willing to do that. I don’t know why, but I have a gut feeling about this. About us working together. It’s illogical, he’s just a civilian, but maybe that doesn’t matter. He’s part of this now and so am I. Our paths are intertwined and not just because I was the one to save him.
Code Red Molniya has been evoked once before—on the day my parents disappeared.
“Ok.” I hold my hand out. “Deal.”
He takes it. “Okay.”
After we’ve shaken on it, I glance out the window. The sun has retaken even more of the sky, painting it in fiery orange brushstrokes. “So, where is the asset?”
He averts his gaze when I look at him, gazing out at the same scenery I was just examining. “It’s in your car. I took it out of its box and hid it under the front passenger’s seat.”
I blink, my brain not comprehending. “You did what ?”
He looks at me then, his eyes dancing with amusement and challenge. “I hid the asset in your car. I didn’t know what else to do, okay? But I wasn’t about to just hand it over to you people. Until I know what the hell is going on, I can’t trust anyone, so… Anyway, we don’t really have to go looking. We can leave an hour before the meeting and kill some time at a café or something. I’ll tell them I hid it in that garage where we were supposed to meet.”
Well, damn. I suddenly recall how fidgety he was on the way to the CIA’s HQ. I thought he was cold, but I guess he must’ve been fumbling with the box so he could hide the asset right under my nose. I grin, suddenly energized. Well played, Matt.
“You…”
He rocks back and forth on his heels, stifling another yawn. “I what ?”
“You’ve got balls, I’ll tell you that.”
He shrugs. “You wouldn’t be the first to underestimate me.”
I believe him. But I’m not one to make the same mistake twice. I know better now. This unassuming civilian whom I can easily manhandle like he weighs nothing is in truth a sly fox pretending to be a sheep.
I just hope that I didn’t bite off more than I can chew now that I know who I’m dealing with.