Chapter Eight
Camden sat at the bar on the far barstool in one of the restaurants that his teammates weren’t likely to frequent. He wasn’t sure where the avoidance came from. He rolled a glass half-filled with Coke between his palms and studied the upscale space.
Titan Group’s Abu Dhabi headquarters was as far away as Amelia Stone likely imagined. Camden tried to conjure up what she might think of his workplace, but no matter what she came up with, it probably wasn’t going to be a two-tower gilded skyscraper hotel.
The building served as an exclusive hotel that catered to princes and billionaires, at least on the surface. In reality, it was an elaborate cover that brought in money and provided a safe place in the somewhat inhospitable, unpredictable Middle East region.
Jared started Titan Group out of sheer willpower, strong connections, and an unflappable sense of right and wrong. But Titan also played in the gray. They took jobs that weren’t necessarily paid for, and that hotel helped to foot the bill.
Titan’s Abu Dhabi headquarters was hard for Camden to absorb. Growing up in New Jersey, he hadn’t known anything like that existed. He’d joined the army after a recruiter promised he would see the world. Naively, he’d believed the man.
Yeah, he’d seen the world, but where he was currently was a better fit: more flexibility, more adventure, more excitement. He was an everyday guy living in the land of more, more, more, where Maseratis were a dime a dozen.
Most people were probably like him and couldn’t fathom the place.
Could Amelia? She’d mentioned a creative, vivid imagination.
Her words lingered in his mind and tightened the muscles in his chest. He couldn’t explain why.
He didn’t know anything about her and purposefully hadn’t searched the internet for her picture.
That hadn’t stopped Shah and Amanda, though. Shah reported on Amelia’s lack of social media with the exception of an event-planning company she owned. Amanda had needed only a fraction of a second to find Amelia’s picture. Still, Camden had refused to look.
He could explain his indifference to social media. People posted only what they wanted the world to see, and it was rarely the truth. Amelia Stone didn’t want anyone to see much. What did that say? He was curious.
Amanda had also found pages of internet hits on Amelia’s company, Events and Occasions.
Many corporate and philanthropic organizations appeared to have utilized her services.
Events and Occasions was also often mentioned on society pages that showed off weddings and parties of the who’s who in Washington, DC.
Camden had scrolled through a few of the company’s online hits.
Without dropping Amelia’s name, they managed to share that she was an excellent event planner.
She liked to be behind the scenes. She was successful and well regarded.
He could see that in the woman he’d spoken to on the phone.
He also sensed from her success and their brief conversations that she was someone that wouldn’t be told a cover story without pressing for the truth.
Out of the corner of his eye, Camden saw Liam walk up to the bar.
He sighed, not in the mood to talk. It wasn’t because he’d been assigned to desk duty for what felt like a hellacious amount of time, it was that desk duty had given him a puzzle he couldn’t stop thinking about.
Maybe Camden shouldn’t have taken a break in that restaurant.
If he’d really wanted to be alone, he could’ve gone to his apartment.
Liam pulled himself onto a barstool and ordered a Coke.
Camden raised his chin when the bartender asked if he wanted his soda topped off as well. “What’s going on, man?”
Liam thanked the bartender for his drink and turned to Camden. “What the hell are you doing in here? Didn’t think this place was your scene.”
He shrugged in agreement. “I didn’t think this place was anyone’s scene unless the ladies wanted a celebration or a party.” He was astounded by how their team had morphed from a gathering of single men to family guys. He didn’t begrudge anyone their happiness but did find it perplexing.
“Yet here you are,” Liam pointed out.
He nodded. “What’s up, man?”
“I don’t know. Boss Man wanted me to feel something out, and here I find you hiding.”
He shot Liam a glance. “I’m not hiding.”
“If you say so.” Liam took a long drink and set the glass down. “You feel like going back to the US for a bit?”
Camden’s eyebrow arched. His heart kickstarted. “What for?”
“To have a sit-down with Beth Tourne.”
“From the CIA?”
“Do you know another Beth Tourne?”
“I don’t know any Beth Tournes. There’s probably a better person to meet with one of their people.
” If not Liam, then Chance, Hagan, or Sawyer would be a more responsible Titan representative.
They were dependable, trusted. They were the ones assigned to complicated jobs that required more gravitas than he had ever been interested in giving to a project.
Liam narrowed his gaze and scrutinized Camden. “Huh.”
“What?”
“What the hell is going on with you?”
“Nothing.”
“Then since when are you not raring to go on assignment?” Liam pressed.
Camden raised his shoulders with feigned indifference. He couldn’t shake his fascination with Amelia Stone, and that was enough that he wanted to avoid Beth Tourne.
Liam sipped his soda. “I’m not one to question Boss Man. He usually has a plan and a dozen backup plans.”
That, Camden knew all too well, which made him even more uncomfortable, especially since he wanted to learn more about Amelia with each passing moment. “Jared could find someone who’s on the same continent as her.”
“Obviously, Cam, but he said you.”
Camden pursed his lips. A hundred thoughts ran through his head. He drummed his fingers against the sweating soda glass. “Any update as to why the CIA had to farm out its call center?”
Liam shook his head. “Ask Beth.” He gave him a hard look. “Any reason in particular you don’t want to take a cushy job?”
He batted the drink between his palms and wished it were a football instead.
At least that would help him think. “You know the girl? Amelia Stone? She was thrown into all this without any information. No one’s debriefed her.
She sees the bullshit cover story, yet no one is telling her a damn thing. ”
“Maybe they want you to do their dirty work.”
“Maybe.” Would that be such a bad thing?
Yeah, it would. He didn’t realize it until right then, but he’d put Amelia Stone on one hell of a pedestal.
“It’d be a no-brainer if you wanted me to haul ass into a building with some terrorist trying to blow my brains out.
But the CIA? I don’t know if I have the stomach for their particular blend of bullshit. ”
“Do you think Amelia has what it takes to stomach it?”
Camden half laughed. “I think that woman can handle anything thrown at her.” He lifted his shoulders again. “Whether she should have to or not? I don’t know. That’s a different story.”
Titan’s private jet touched down at Dulles Airport outside Washington, DC.
Camden scrubbed a hand over his face and into his dark tousled hair.
The time change wouldn’t bother him. Neither would the solitude of a solo gig.
But he wasn’t sure about an assignment that was more talk than action.
His work preference could be summarized as: get in, get the job done, get out.
Talking to spooks wasn’t the least bit interesting.
The jet came to a stop at a private terminal.
He glanced out the oval window. A standard black Suburban with government plates was waiting for him to deplane.
His mind skipped through his upcoming day.
The Suburban would take him to meet Beth.
Parker had briefed Camden on her but hadn’t had much to say.
Beth was new to the CIA. She had a redacted personal history that had led her to a job in which she could reinvent her life and live it up as a party girl.
Beth was doing her damnedest to be photographed at exclusive parties on the arms of DC’s diplomatic and political crowd.
Camden wondered if any of those parties had been handled by Events and Occasions.
All in all, Beth and Camden wouldn’t have much in common.
A US customs inspector boarded the jet. He had a quick conversation with the flight staff then Camden. Their paperwork and passports were processed, and he was free to deplane.
Camden thanked the flight crew and retrieved his duffel bag.
The crisp fall air was refreshing, even if tinged with diesel fuel and burnt brake rubber.
The bright morning sunlight reflected off the runway.
A man wearing a suit and dark sunglasses jumped out of the driver’s seat and opened the back passenger door.
Camden cleared his throat. “Hey. Morning.”
“Mr. Brooks.” The driver scanned their surroundings as he waited for Camden to get in. “I hope you had a nice flight.”
“Slept through most of it.” He reached for the door, but it was closed for him. Camden shifted uncomfortably on the leather seat. “You know,” he said when the driver sat behind the steering wheel, “I’m normally the guy who scans the perimeter for threat assessments.”
The driver nodded as if he understood Camden’s background and eased the vehicle toward the private terminal exit. “Just doing my job. You work for Titan Group?”
Camden nodded. “Yeah. Ever work with us?”
“Absolutely. Chauffeur duty isn’t my usual. There’s a Titan team based nearby. They’re rowdy but a good bunch.” He glanced in the rearview mirror. “Where are you based out of?”
“Abu Dhabi.” They passed through a security checkpoint. “Very different from where I used to call home.”
“Where was that?”
“New Jersey.”
He laughed. “How’d you end up out there?”
Camden shook his head. “Sometimes, I don’t look before I leap. But it’s worked out pretty good.”