Two and a half years ago the CIA had, after noting her work in the field of restorative facial surgery, approached her. They needed her and she had gladly accepted the challenge. She would not change that course now.
“We are aware of the relationship you maintained with Agent Maddox,” Allen broached, answering before Calder could or maybe because he didn’t want to bring up the sensitive subject. “I believe the two of you were…intimate for more than a year before his death.”
The oxygen in Elizabeth’s lungs evacuated with out further ado. She swallowed hard, sucked in a necessary breath and told her heart to calm. “That’s correct.” To say she was surprised by the subject would be a vast understatement. But, within this realm, there was no room for deception or hedging. Those traits were best utilized in the field. And the fact of the matter was Elizabeth had never been very good at lying. She was an open book. Subterfuge and confrontation were two of her least favorite strategies.
Just another reason she had no life. Real life, emotionally speaking, was too difficult. If she kept to herself, she wasn’t likely to run into any problems.
But you’re about to change that attitude, a little voice reminded. She had made up her mind to dive back into a social life…to take a few risks.
If only she could remember that mantra.
Director Calder picked up the conversation again, “Three months before his death Agent Maddox was involved in a mission that garnered this Agency critical information. He was, fortunately, able to complete the mission with his cover intact.”
Elizabeth imagined that maintaining the validity of a cover would be crucial for future use. She nodded her understanding, prompting him to carry on.
“Though the group he infiltrated at the time was effectively eliminated, two members have moved into another arena which has created great concern for this agency.”
Outright apprehension reared its ugly head. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.” She did fully comprehend that there were certain elements she would not be told due to their classification, but she had to know more than this. Tap dancing around the issue wasn’t going to assuage her uneasiness.
“The two subjects involved have relocated their operation here. On our soil,” Allen clarified. “They have an agenda that we are not at liberty to disclose, but they must be stopped at all costs.”
Elizabeth divided a look between the two men. Both wore poker faces, giving away nothing except determination. She hated to say anything that would make her look utterly stupid but her conclusion was simple. “If you know they’re here, why don’t you just arrest them or…or eliminate them.”
Made sense to her. But then she was only a doctor, not a spy or an assassin. She felt certain they had some legitimate reason for taking a less direct route to accomplish their ultimate goal, though she couldn’t begin to fathom what the motivation could possibly be.
“I wish it were that simple,” Calder told her thoughtfully. “Stopping the men they’ve sent won’t be enough. We have to know how they’re getting their information to en sure the threat is eliminated completely. Otherwise the root cause of the situation will simply continue generating additional obstacles.”
Now she got it. “You need these two members of the group David infiltrated to lead you to their source,” she suggested. She’d seen a crime drama or two in her life.
“Exactly,” Allen confirmed. “If we don’t find the source, they’ll just keep sending out more assassins.”
Assassins. That meant targets.
“How does this involve me?” Her heart rate kicked into over drive. She moistened her lips as the silence stretched out another ten seconds. This could not be good.
Director Calder turned more fully to ward her, fixing her with a solemn gaze that reflected nearly as much desperation as it did determination. “In order to infiltrate this group we need someone with whom they’ll feel comfortable. Someone familiar. We have an agent prepared to take the risk and infiltrate the group, but we need to make a few alterations.”
Her head moved up and down in acknowledgement. She was on the same page now. “You want me to give him a different appearance? A new face?” That’s what she usually did. No big deal. But why all the beating around the proverbial bush?
“Correct,” Calder allowed. “But just any face won’t work. We’ll be requesting a specific look.”
“Someone these assassins know, feel comfortable with,” she echoed his earlier words.
“Precisely,” Allen agreed enthusiastically. “This part is crucial to the success of the mission. If the tar gets think for even a second that our man isn’t who he says he is they’ll kill him without hesitation. There is no margin for error whatsoever, Dr. Cameron. That’s why your help is critical.”
She looked expectantly from Calder to Allen and back. “What is it you need, exactly?” she asked, focusing her attention on Allen since he loved to throw around those extreme adverbs. The requirements sounded simple enough.