Hennessey knew this was her first trip to the bowels of the Agency and she probably hoped it would be the last. The adrenaline no doubt pumping through her veins would make the air feel heavier, thicker. It didn’t take a psychic to know she was seriously antsy in the situation. Didn’t like it one damned bit.
Dawson stayed to her right, a step ahead, leading the way. Hennessey stayed to her left, kept his movements perfectly aligned with hers, not moving ahead, never falling behind. If the over head lights were to suddenly go out and the generators were to fail, he would still know she was there. He could feel her next to him. For someone who loved clinging to a routine, her energy was strong…her presence nearly over whelming. With every fiber of his being he knew she was even now scrolling through her memory banks searching for what it was that felt familiar about him.
Thankfully they reached their destination. Dawson stopped at the next door on the left. “The director is waiting for you in side, Dr. Cameron.” He reached for the door and opened it.
Elizabeth looked from him to Hennessey and back. “Aren’t you coming in, Agent Dawson?”
She didn’t like this at all. Hennessey could feel the tension vibrating in side her mounting.
“Not this time, ma’am.”
She didn’t like this. Her frown deepening, Elizabeth pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and moved through the open door. She had been briefed long ago about the various levels of security clearances within the CIA. Some were so secret that even the designation was classified. In most cases, the rule that every agent lived by was the “need-to-know” rule. One knew what one needed to know and nothing more.
Clearly Agent Dawson and his friend didn’t need to know what ever the director was about to discuss with her. The door closed behind her with a resolute thud and she shivered. The sound echoed through her, shaking loose a memory from months ago. It had been dark…she’d scarcely seen his face, but she had known his reputation. The man who’d been sent to protect her that night had held her there like a prisoner in the darkness for hours insisting that it was for her own safety. He’d been rude and arrogant, had overwhelmed her with his brute strength…his absolute maleness. And then he’d been gone.
He’d almost taken advantage of her—she’d almost let him—and then he’d disappeared. Like a shadow in the night…as if he’d never been there at all. She’d known what he’d done. He’d reveled in pushing her but tons, in making her weak. But she’d resisted, just barely. If she hadn’t, he would have taken full advantage, even knowing that she be longed to David. She wondered if David had ever suspected that the friend he’d sent to protect her from a threat the nature of which she hadn’t been authorized clearance for had almost succeeded in seducing her with his devastating charm. Some friend.
But then that was Special Agent Joe Hennessey. He might be a superspy of legendary proportions, but she knew him for what he was: ruthless and with an allegiance only to himself. The guy waiting with Dawson in the corridor reminded her of Hennessey.
“Elizabeth, thank you for coming.”
Elizabeth shoved the distracting thoughts away as Director George Calder rounded the end of the long conference table and made his way to her. A second gentleman she didn’t recognize rose from his chair but didn’t move to ward her.
Present and future, forget the past, she reminded her too forgetful self. Like David, Joe Hennessey was a part of her past that was gone for ever. Face forward. Focus on the here and now…on the future. Director Calder took her hand in his and shook it firmly.
“I hope you’ll forgive my intrusion into your vacation schedule,” he offered, his expression displaying sincere regret.
George Calder was a tall, broad-shouldered man, not unlike the two agents waiting out side the door. Nearly sixty, his hair had long ago silvered and lines drawn by the execution of enormous power marred his distinguished face. He’d presented him self as nothing less than gracious and sensitive each time he’d requested Elizabeth’s presence. But there was more this time. Some thing else simmered behind those intelligent hazel eyes. The sixth sense that usually centered on her patients was humming now, urging her to act.
“Technically,” Elizabeth said succinctly, ignoring her foolish urge for fight or flight, “my vacation doesn’t start until tomorrow so you’re still safe for now.”
George laughed, but the sound was forced. “Let me introduce you to our director of operations.” He turned to the other man in the room. This one was slightly shorter and thinner, but looked every bit as formidable as Director Calder.
“Kurt Allen, meet our talented Dr. Elizabeth Cameron.”
His fashionable gray pin stripe suit setting him apart from the requisite navy or black, Allen rushed to shake her hand, his smile wide and seeming genuine. “It’s an honor to finally meet you, Dr. Cameron. Your work is amazing. I can’t tell you how many of my best men you’ve spared.”