Chapter 3
HELLO… AGAIN
SYDNEY
The driver stopped under the covered entrance to Sydney’s condo building in Alexandria. After she and Gabriel exited the vehicle, Sydney hugged Gabriel before he kissed each of her cheeks.
“Ci sentiamo. Sei sicuro di stare bene? We’ll talk,” Gabriel said. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Okay? I’m, never okay,” she replied. “But you had my back, and I love you for it.”
He smiled. “Ti amo anch'io, angelo. I love you too, angel. Qualche volta ceneremo al Ristorante Santini, vero? We'll have dinner at Santini Ristorante sometime, yes?”
“Of course. How long are you in town?”
“No idea.”
“Grazie per il salvataggio. Thanks for the save,” she said.
The driver held out her leather overnight bag. With it slung over her shoulder—and her weapons bag in hand—she walked to the entrance, slid her keycard into the slot. The shiny glass door slid open, and she headed toward the elevator, acknowledging the concierge with a “How’s it hangin’?”
He laughed.
Once on her floor, she hurried down the quiet hallway. She couldn’t wait to sleep in her bed, surrounded by all her pillows, and get lost in her dreams. Sexy, romantic, and strikingly detailed dreams about the gorgeous Tank Santini, the sexy blond she’d hoped to hear from… but hadn’t.
You suck, Santini.
She punched in her condo code and stepped inside. At eleven o’clock in the morning, she didn’t expect to see her sister Caroline.
Unless she and Grey are going at it on the sofa.
Glancing around the living room, she called out, “Car— I’m home!”
Silence.
“Caroline?”
No sis, so she dropped her travel bag in her bedroom, set her weapons bag gently on the bed. That bag she treated with the utmost care. She’d known a guy who’d dropped his bag, the gun fired, and he got shot in the leg. It wasn’t pretty.
She pulled out her phone, sent a text to her boss at Langley.
I’m back
Next, she tapped out a text to Caroline.
I’m home. Are you at work? When can I see you???
Her phone binged with a message from her boss.
Good to have you back. Debrief at 1230
Her phone rang and she glanced at the screen, then answered. “Hey!”
“Sissy!” Caroline said. “I have missed you so much.”
Sydney grinned. “I missed you too. Are you at work?”
“Yeah. What are you doing today?”
“I have a 12:30 meeting.”
“How long?”
“All afternoon,” Sydney replied.
“Perfect. I’ll be home by six.”
“Love you,” Sydney said.
“Love you back.” The line went dead.
Sydney did a quick unpack, returning all her weapons to her safe, except her SIG Sauer. After clearing the chamber, she loaded the magazine with bullets, then tucked it into her shoulder holster. She slipped into a jacket to conceal her weapon, left her bedroom.
On her way toward the front door, she glanced around. The condo was as she’d expected. Neat and tidy. No evidence of Stud-Man living there, but Greystone and Caroline were inseparable.
A smile tugged on her lips as she made her way down the hall to the elevator. Those two were so in love it was adorable, but Sydney couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy. She wanted that for herself. Her mom and dad had it. Now, her baby sis.
When’s it gonna be my turn?
On the elevator ride to the parking garage, she texted her friend, fellow Special Op, Naomi.
Are you at HQ?
Are you back? Tell me YES!
I’m back from hell. Get together?
Meetings UGH. All Day UGH. Drinks tomorrow after work?
Sydney checked her calendar.
Tomorrow’s Halloween.
She unlocked her Jeep before replying to Naomi.
I’m dressing up. You?
What the HELL for???
LOL Halloween
Hotel Dillinger Bohemian Room 7pm
Sounds perfect. Can’t wait to see you
After setting her phone down, she headed out.
She loved living in the DC area, especially loved Alexandria. But Sydney had been out of the country more than she’d been stateside. All she cared about was being home, back on US soil. At least, for a little while.
Being a Special Op was a demanding job.
Demanding and dangerous.
A hit of adrenaline pounded through her.
I love it. Even when I’m almost caught.
Thirty-five minutes later, she’d cleared security at CIA HQ in Langley, Virginia, and was en route to grab something from the cafeteria. With her sandwich and drink in hand, she went upstairs and into her cubicle.
At twelve-thirty, she knocked on the closed conference room door.
“Come in,” said the familiar voice.
Sydney opened the door, took in her surroundings. There were nine people seated at the conference table, several more sitting in chairs that hugged the back wall. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she acknowledged her boss, Lorne Cadance, with a simple nod.
I’mma be here for hours.
Lorne stood. She went over, shook his hand. “Good to see you, sir.”
“Same,” he replied. “How was your trip?”
“As expected.”
He gestured for her to sit across the table. She was the lone person on that side. While she loved her job, debriefing… not so much. She was questioned, then grilled.
Often times, some of the higher-ups would ask the same question a different way. She’d been doing this long enough to know they were fact-checking. They were looking for the absolute truth, not her take on it. They were ensuring she hadn’t somehow been manipulated by the enemy, or worse… turned.
Earlier, while she’d chowed down at her desk, she’d uploaded the photos of her mark, Todd Petersen, into the Agency’s ultra-secure portal.
“When you’re ready, Fox Key,” Lorne said.
In settings like this, where upwards of twenty people were included, it was common for the managing director to withhold the name of his Special Ops Officer. Security was of the utmost importance, even inside the secure walls of the Agency.
Sydney stayed high level, keeping the deets out of her opening summary. While she spoke, her boss flashed the photos of Todd Petersen on the screen. Eyeballs jumped to his lifeless body, but Sydney continued providing a factual account of what had happened.
When she finished, her boss opened the floor for questions.
“What was Petersen’s title?” asked someone seated at the table.
“VP, Global Relations,” Sydney replied.
“What was he doing when you entered his villa?” fired off another employee.
“He’d just finished pleasuring himself,” she replied matter-of-factly.
“Did you take his phone?”
“No.”
“Were you seen en route to your—did you say you drove in?”
“Yes, I did drive myself into the neighborhood, and yes, I was seen by the patrolling security guard.”
“How did you get out?” asked one of the women.
“A CI,” she replied.
“Who?”
Sydney pursed her lips. Yeah, that’s not happening.
“Fox Key, you have to answer my question,” repeated the Langley employee.
Even after working there for nine years, Sydney could count the number of people she trusted on one hand. She glanced at her supervisor.
“That’s privileged information,” Lorne replied.
“I outrank Fox Key,” said the woman.
Here we go.
Most at Langley wanted to do their job… and do it well.
They took pride in their work and in the organization they served.
But everyone there had an ego and not all egos were equal.
The woman across the table was looking for power, to dominate, or to put Sydney in her place.
It could be for any number of irrelevant reasons, but Sydney wasn’t going to give Gabriel or his cousin Monroe up.
“Like Director Cadance said, that information is confidential,” she pushed back.
“I can force your hand,” the employee hissed.
“And do what if I tell you a name?” Sydney asked. “Are you traveling to Italy and hunting this person down? What is your point?”
Lorne pursed his lips to smother a smile. Wasn’t the first time she’d seen him do that. Wasn’t the first time she’d challenged authority either.
“Fox Key isn’t giving up her confidential informants.” The harsh tone in Lorne’s voice filled the room.
She appreciated that he had her back.
The woman slapped down her laptop. “I will not stand for this level of insubordination.” After standing, she glared over at Sydney. “Expect my grievance email by morning.”
Sydney’s pulse didn’t change, nor did her blood pressure. She didn’t give a damn about this woman and her bullshit email. She had a job to do that did not include giving up her contacts, especially when their last names were Santini.
That would open up a whole different set of questions and problems. The name Santini in Italy was one of the oldest and most powerful names in Europe.
And in the DMV.
This time, Sydney was the one who bit back a smile. She loved that she had friends in high places. Though never one to name drop—she loved it just the same.
Once the disruptor left, her boss suggested a ten-minute break. When the meeting resumed, the questions picked right back up. Though Sydney’s patience had worn thin, she knew the drill, and she knew how to play the game.
Three hours into the meeting, her boss’s boss, Tracie, joined them, and she had to bring the executive up to speed.
“Excellent work, Fox Key,” said Tracie. “We expect the death of Todd Petersen, the number-three man in The Sovereign Method, will turn out the cockroaches.”
“And by cockroaches, you’re referring to the top two?” asked Sydney.
Tracie nodded. “That’s exactly who I mean. What can you tell us about them?”
Sydney didn’t need to check her notes. She’d been chasing these ghosts for long enough to know plenty.
“The leader goes by King A,” Sydney explained. “In his rare public appearances, he wears a full facial mask. His real name is unknown. His second goes by Crafty Lamar. He also uses the alias Hollywood.” Pausing, Sydney shook her head. “He has several more, all equally stupid.”
A ripple of laughter filled the room, and she leaned back in her chair.
Finally.
The tension and formality that hung in the air lifted… a little.