Chapter 2: Jamie

Two weeks later. Wednesday. Washington, DC.

JAMIE SWIPED A RAG across his brow in an attempt to mop up some of the sweat. A whole damn week of twiddling his thumbs and the day he decided to go for a mid-afternoon run the Team Leader summoned him to the Task Force Headquarters. There wasn't even time for a shower or a change of clothes based on how terse the phone call had been.

Whoever had planned out this whole operation had been thorough.

A new set of apartments sat directly beside a small business complex that outwardly appeared to be limping along. On the inside, however, it was a state-of-the art black site. Jamie and the other Aegis Group guys lived in the building closest to the site, their apartments paid for and furnished.

Jamie swiped his key card at the side entrance and stepped into the frigid building, shivering as his body temperature dropped. He paused by the bathroom to wash up as best he could before heading toward the Assistant Director's office.

"Silva," a man barked.

Jamie paused and glanced over his shoulder. Logan Muller was the kind of guy who stood out in a crowd. He was tall, with arms like tree trunks, calculating eyes that could strip a person of their dignity without ever saying a word and one of the best damn tacticians Jamie had the pleasure of working with.

He waited for the man to catch up to him. "We have orders?"

Logan Muller stared straight ahead and kept walking. "Not the kind you're going to like."

You?

As in Jamie?

He sped up, matching his TL's stride. "Come on, man. What are we in for?"

Logan merely shook his head, that grim look getting more ominous with every step.

Jamie let Logan enter the office of Supervisory Special Agent Zora Clark first. She might only be the task force's assistant director, but he'd seen a hell of a lot more of her than he had the man in charge.

"Jamie, thanks for coming so soon." SSA Clark closed a file and pulled another toward her. She was an unexpected figure among the mostly male crowd. Early thirties, she exuded an authority and maturity beyond her years. Her short, cropped hair set off a delicate face and skin the color of rich mahogany.

"Agent Clark, TL says you've got a job?" Jamie remained standing, acutely aware of the new leather smell of her furniture.

"Zora, please? Yes." She opened the folder revealing a glossy professional headshot of a woman with the smile of an angel. "You're familiar with HiTech Inc, correct?"

"Yes, ma'am," Jamie said slowly. He'd done more than a little work with the company's guidance systems used on a variety of weapons during his days in the Special Forces.

"This is Tabby Grissler, the founder's daughter. She's poised to take over, which means she's working on the executive level of HiTech, but before that she worked in their research and development department. We need their help, but given the nature of our operation, we can't ask for it. What we," Zora nodded at Logan who merely scowled harder, "would like you to do is get close to her tonight. We need access to her phone so we can ascertain a possible threat."

"Say what now?" Jamie cocked his head to the side. Was he hearing this woman correctly?

He was an operative, but not that kind. Sure, he'd done a little covert work. Most Special Ops guys had. It came with the territory. But this sounded like it crossed lines he wasn't sure he wanted to trample.

Zora set her hands on the top of her desk and pushed to her feet, staring him in the eyes. "I know how this sounds. We would not resort to these methods if there was another way."

"Are we sure we haven't thought of one? Asking another agency to bring her in?"

"That will take time we don't have. I cannot stress to you how dire this situation is. We need Ms. Grissler's cooperation yesterday but we can't get it without miles of red tape. This is the most economical method at our disposal." Once more she glanced at Logan. "It's my understanding you have a way with women. All you need to do is get your hands on her phone and plug this device in for thirty seconds."

Zora pulled a device out from her drawer. It was the size of his damn thumb nail. She set it next to the photograph.

Jamie couldn't look away from the image of a smiling Tabby Grissler. Hair that red should be criminal. Her hazel eyes danced, even in the photograph and her smile invited you to laugh along with her. Even from the picture he could tell she was a smooth, polished woman, and yet she didn't cover up the generous smattering of freckles across her nose.

"TL?" He kept staring at Tabby's eyes.

Logan blew out a breath. From that sound alone it was clear to Jamie that Logan didn't like this job any more than Jamie did.

"Boss told us to trust Zora. She's telling us this is what needs to happen, then it needs to happen." Logan turned from Jamie to Zora. "I'm trusting you until you give me a reason not to."

"Thank you, Logan. I know we are trying your team's patience. What we're doing is important, I promise you."

Jamie shut his eyes.

In the week that he'd been here, he'd turned down two dates and twice as many phone numbers. He was following the advice he'd been given, be single. This job would be a lot easier if he had a girlfriend he could fall back on, explain that he couldn't do it. And yet, here they were.

"I imagine you have a plan?" He sank into the chair, no longer giving a damn if he was sweaty and gross.

"Tabby will be attending a fundraiser tonight." Zora slid an envelope across to him. "We've secured you a seat at the same table as her."

"What's the fundraiser for?"

"Um." She frowned and opened the envelope. "It doesn't say."

"I can't exactly go to something and not know why I'm there."

"I'll make sure someone pulls the information."

Jamie lifted his gaze and stared at the agent. "So, let me get this straight. You want me to go to a fancy function, do whatever it takes for this woman to let me have her phone for a minute all in the name of national security?"

Zora had the good sense to at least look apologetic.

When he'd accepted this job, he hadn't expected this.