Chapter Fifteen #3
It excited him that he was actually in the middle of a CIA mission.
Most of the time, his work had been mainly at the tail end, working in the dark rooms, decoding stupid data.
Signing up for the top-secret experiment had been his one shot to move up.
Remote-viewing experiment? Sure, bring it on.
And through that, he’d discovered his new unique talent, the special ability that these goons didn’t have.
If only he’d won that damn competition, taken out all those other test agents, he’d be living the high life right now.
Like that bitch. The thought brought back sensations he didn’t want to recall right now.
The ear-splitting white noise. That sense of overwhelming pain.
He shuddered. He didn’t want to go back to COMCEN if he could help it.
He took in a deep breath and released it slowly.
What he wouldn’t give for a cigarette right now.
“I need some downtime,” he said. Give them something so they’d think he was an asset.
“Look, I already found out those people aren’t in Macedonia.
I can do this. My brain isn’t fried because I know my limits.
The juice helps me to withstand the stress after remote viewing, but something happened back there.
That place has something—I can’t explain it—that seems to affect me. ”
His monitor nodded thoughtfully. “That might explain the other two viewers we had who couldn’t breach their security.” He turned to his partner. “The Russians used a similar system. We’ll just have to add that to our report.”
“That might get us off his shit list for losing the decoder in the last job,” the other man grumbled. “He wouldn’t be surprised that COMCEN has some Russian secrets, though.”
Who was this “he” they were referring to? Jonah lay back in the bed. He was feeling nauseous again. Every time he thought of COMCEN, that pain shocked his psyche like a live current. So much pain. Why did he feel as if the weight of the world was on him? He hadn’t done anything wrong.
“Take a break, Five-One. We have to get this particular weapon ASAP. We’ll be back in a few hours. Do you think that’s enough time?”
“Nothing another dose won’t cure,” Jonah told them quietly.
He winced as he tried to relax. This pain made him want to cry as if he’d lost something very important.
It disturbed him. He couldn’t figure out why he was feeling like this.
All he did was open all his channels to retrieve what that bitch had stolen from him.
But doing that had done something else instead—he’d absorbed something that made him feel so awful, so dirty inside.
Jonah shuddered. He must try to get rid of this. He didn’t want pain. He thought about the lost cache with all those wonderful sexual memories that were his to play with until that woman stole it. Ah. The familiar anger was back. He closed his eyes and prayed for sleep.
“IT’S BEEN QUITE SOME time since I’ve seen your number on my caller ID, Conor.”
The voice was raspier than he remembered, but Joe McGuy always greeted him as Conor when it wasn’t business between them. Through the years, Jed had approached his mentor both for and outside business reasons. It was a friendship built from a promise that one man kept and the other never forgot.
“I wouldn’t want you to think I’m checking up on you in your old age,” he said easily, the Irish lilt of his growing years threading through his words as easy as ivy climbing up a wall.
“Harsh on an old man. What’s the world coming to?”
Joe might be retired and he might be up there in age, but old wouldn’t describe him. He still ran and finished the Boston Marathon every other year. Someone told Jed that he skydived on his birthday this year.
“Can’t be too harsh with your granddaughter’s wedding coming up,” Jed said, leaning back in his chair, relaxing for the first time since he sat down to do paperwork.
“Ah, that’s the fruit of my labor and I’m enjoying every minute of my retirement. When’s Trouble getting married anyway? She’s around the right age, isn’t she? I haven’t seen her for a while now either.”
Jed smiled. Joe had a special spot for Grace, his daughter, even though he hadn’t seen her a lot as a grown woman. It all had to do with that long-ago promise.
“She’s still young and wild. I don’t think she’s going to be tied down by a husband for a long, long time, my old friend.”
“Don’t be too sure, my old friend. DC has a lot of young men.”
Jed frowned. Had Joe been keeping an eye on Grace after all? “She’s there for an internship. Please don’t tell me she’s in trouble already.”
Joe gave a raspy chuckle. “Your daughter has your genes, remember? And her mother’s. Which means, she’s in and out of trouble a lot, God help her.”
He supposed if it was anything to be really concerned about, Joe wouldn’t be teasing him. “I’m assuming she’s managing on her own, since she would be calling me if it gets out of control. She knows how to get hold of me.”
This time, Joe snorted. “Jed,” he chided, using his other namesake now, “that daughter of yours thinks trouble is fun. She’s also at the age when they all think they’re invincible.
As for that internship, I think you should ask what her job entails exactly, if you care to call her more than once in a while. ”
It was Joe who had taught him how to be a father.
But his training had also taught him to distance himself from those he loved.
Grace and he had a different father-daughter relationship.
In many ways, she had turned out a lot like him.
Except for that devil-may-care look in her eyes. That was all Kitty’s.
“Perhaps I’ll find out more about what’s happening at her end,” he said.
“Do it soon,” the older man advised. “Now, what is it you need from me?”
They slid from personal to business like well-oiled parts that had worked with familiar intimacy. Jed had always appreciated how Joe could drop the mantle of friendship and assume his old role of mentor without a change in appearance or inflection.
“Stratter’s,” he said.
“Stratter’s Pointe? All the way to the beginning?”
“Yes. Do you still have connections there?”
“Of course. A few of the old colleagues have gone there, just as you did.”
“Are you sure it still functions the same? It’s been two decades, Joe. Maybe it’s more now.”
“I wouldn’t doubt it,” Joe said, curiosity entering his voice now. “And what is that to you?”
“You know that COMCEN won the funds for the SSS project.” Catching the flicker of lights out of the corner of his eyes, Jed leaned forward to check the screen to his right. T had just punched the codes to his quarters.
“Oh, yes. Super Soldier Spy. That’s causing quite a stir among us old farts in the know. It’s too super secret for us, really, so we don’t like to talk about it much. What’s that got to do with Stratter’s?”
Jed punched the code to allow T to access his floor. “The CIA has their remote-viewing program. I’ve been given partial access to it. What I want to know is, since when has Stratter’s become a medical ward with bars in their windows?”
“Sometimes we have political prisoners who are injured, Jed.”
Jed used his remote to unlock the front door. T hadn’t even attempted to knock; she’d known he’d be expecting her. He waved her in.
“They’re using it as a medical lock-up for remote viewers there now?” Jed asked, his gaze catching Tess’s interested one. “Are they prisoners, then? If they aren’t, I’m sure they would be among the usual operatives on the other floors that don’t have bars in the windows.”
There was a short pause. Jed watched T as she sat down on the chair on the other side of his desk.
She folded her hands primly on the edge of the desk, then rested her chin on them, effectively looking thoughtful and bored at the same time.
It was also a good way to conceal her eyes from him, so he couldn’t read her.
“I’ll find out what I can and call you back,” Joe finally said.
“If it’s possible, I’d like to send in one of my own.
” Jed caught the little flicker of T’s eyelashes, signaling that she was listening very closely.
“As a political prisoner in need of healing time. Paperwork and a few calls. And privileged visiting hours, if that still exists there. That way, one of us can ‘interrogate’ him.”
“That kind of string I can pull. I’ll let you know the details ASAP.”
“Thank you. I must go now, but we’ll talk again soon, old friend.”
“I hear your accent disappearing. You must have company. This late, it couldn’t be for business. Wait a minute, I’m losing it. It’s Jed McNeil I’m talking to.” The mockery in Joe’s voice was unmistakable. “It’s always business. Goodnight, son. Don’t forget to check up on Trouble.”
“I won’t.” Jed hung up.
“Hope you’re not sending Hell in. She’d make a lousy political prisoner.”
Jed sat back comfortably, his arms relaxing on the armrests. “Is Alex allowing you up here alone?” he baited. “I’m surprised he isn’t frantically hunting you down.”
T. frowned, her lips pursing mulishly for a fraction of a second.
It was enough to let him know that Alex hadn’t let down on his determined chase since T had relented and came back as part of the team when Helen was unexpectedly chosen as the winner of the Super Soldier Spy project.
She couldn’t just let one of her GEM operatives flounder in COMCEN alone, so she’d signed transfer papers and returned, even though that had meant working side by side with Alex Diamond again.
It was one of the few things Jed liked to rile T about, a weakness he enjoyed poking.
“Alex doesn’t care where I am as long as I’m at COMCEN, at his beck and call,” she said, a little too coolly, as she sat back up. She ran her forefinger over the smooth oak of his desk. “And you’re changing the subject. Hell mentioned a place named Stratter’s. And someone locked inside a crate.”