Dead.
She opened her eyes and stared at the bandaged face of the man lying so still less than two feet from her. Nothing he told her would matter. She’d loved David. He was gone. She wouldn’t be taking that rocky route again any time soon.
Nothing that Agent Joe Hennessey said or did would alter her new course.
As soon as this was over she intended to revive her social life as planned. Start dating again.
It was past time.
Chapter 5
Joe studied his reflection for far longer than the bandaged mug warranted. He didn’t know what he expected to see or what it mattered. The deed was done.
Twenty-four hours had passed since he’d gone under the knife. He pretty much felt like hell. His whole head could be a puffy melon if it weren’t for the pain radiating around his face in ever tightening bands coming to a point at his nose. He’d had his nose broken once, but it hadn’t hurt like this.
He glanced at the table next to his bed. There was medication for the pain, except he preferred to put off taking it until the pain became intolerable.
So far this morning, he had avoided spending much time with the doc. He’d been aware of her coming in and out of his room all during the night to check the portable monitors that provided a continuous score card on his vitals. He’d felt her looking at him each time but he hadn’t opened his eyes, hadn’t wanted to talk to her. He had a bad feeling he’d already said too much.
That was part of the reason he had no intention of taking any more drugs than necessary. He vaguely recalled making a few ridiculous remarks in the ambulance on the way here.
Joe exhaled a heavy breath. He was thirty-eight years old. He’d been an under cover operative for the CIA for the past ten. He’d been tortured, subjected to all sorts of training to prepare him for said torture, and not once had he ever spilled his guts like he almost had yesterday.
“Real stupid, Hennessey.”
He dragged on his shirt and decided he couldn’t hide out in this room any longer. It was 9:00 a.m. and his need for caffeine wouldn’t be ignored any longer.
Facing the enemy had never been a problem for him. Hiding out from the doc when she was supposed to be on his side bordered on cowardice.
Joe hesitated at the door. He could admit that. It was the truth after all. Why would he lie to him self? The next three weeks were a part of the mission. He’d simply have to get past his personal feelings. Too many lives hung in the balance for him to indulge his personal interests.
His fingers wrapped around the door knob and he twisted, drew back the door and exited the room that provided some amount of separation. All he had to do was maintain his boundaries. No slipping into intimate territory in conversation. No touching. If he followed those two simple rules he wouldn’t have a problem.
The upstairs hall stretched fifteen yards from the room he’d just exited to the staircase. Three other bedrooms and two bathrooms had been carved out of the space. Downstairs was more or less one large open space that served as living room, kitchen and dining room. A laundry room with rear exit, pantry and half bath were off the kitchen.
The house was located in the fringes of a small Maryland town. There was only one other house on the street and it was currently vacant and for sale. Twenty-four hour surveillance as well as a state-of-the-art security system ensured their safety. A panic room had been installed in the basement. Even if someone got past surveillance and the security system they wouldn’t breach the panic room. Though only twelve-by-twelve, the room was impenetrable and stocked for every imaginable scenario.
The smooth hard wood of the stair treads felt cold beneath Joe’s bare feet. His left hand slid along the banister as he descended to the first floor, the act taking him back a few decades to his child hood. His parents’ home had been a two-story and he and his brother had traveled down the stairs every imaginable way from sliding down the banister to jumping over it. It was a miracle either one of them had survived boy hood.
Joe stopped on the bottom step and hesitated once more before making his presence known.
Doctor Elizabeth Cameron was busy at the sink, filling the carafe to make another pot of coffee, Joe presumed. A glutton for punishment he stood there and watched, unable to help him self.
She’d traded her usual business like at tire for jeans and a casual blouse. He hadn’t seen her like this. She wore generic sweats when she worked out, her scrubs or a business suit including a conservative skirt or slacks the rest of the time. He’d begun to wonder as he watched her over the past couple of weeks if she slept in her work clothes. Her cool, reserved exterior just didn’t lend it self to the idea of silky lingerie no matter how much she owned.