Striking Distance

Lucas nodded, then quirked one brow a fraction higher than the other. “That is, if you think you’re up to it. The personal requirements might be steep. To get as close as you need to...” He allowed the unfinished statement to linger in the air a moment before he continued. “We’ll be watching from a distance, but not close enough to keep you safe. You’ll be on your own.”

Another charge of excitement went through her. “I’m up to anything you can throw my way.” She knew what he was worried about, and she could handle it. Her training had included intensive profiles to see if she could tolerate mental as well as physical abuse of all kinds. All results indicated she would hold up under pressure exceedingly well. She licked her busted lip for emphasis. She would die before she’d break. Fooling a polygraph as well as tactics to fight the effects of certain drugs were all a part of her vast repertoire. “Sounds almost too easy,” she admitted.

“We don’t know anything about this assassin,” Lucas said grimly. “We have to assume he’s extremely dangerous. There’s no way to guess how many people he’s killed in his career or what his MO is. If the man who hired him is who we believe he is, then you can rest assured that our assassin is highly trained and well experienced.”

She could read between the lines. This was a mission that contained a definite “suicide” element. Getting close to the target and staying alive would entail a great deal of skill and more than a little luck.

“What’s in this for me?” she wanted to know, undeterred. They might as well get to the heart of the matter. “If I’m going to risk life and limb for you, what will you do for me?”

Lucas looked pleased that she’d asked. “You succeed in this mission and you’ll come to work for me with the best of the best.”

Struggling with the desire to do a victory whoop, she clamped down hard on her outward reactions. Stay cool, don’t let him see that you know this is an opportunity of a lifetime. A route through all the BS and straight to the kind of work she longed to do. It was rumored that the elusive Lucas Camp headed some sort of elite top secret organization. A club far more exclusive than anything under the CIA umbrella.

“And if I fail?”

“Then it won’t matter,” he said flatly. “Because you’ll be dead.”

That was the answer she’d expected. If she got close to this guy and he suspected for one nanosecond that she was a spy, she’d be history. Tasha shrugged. “So, I won’t fail.” She looked straight into the knowing eyes of one of the most powerful men on the planet and watched for the slightest flicker of deceit. “Just one more question, Mr. Camp, why me?”

“Because you’re good.” No hesitation, not even a glimmer of deception. “Too good to be stuck behind some desk.” A smile curled one corner of his mouth. “Too good to be working for the CIA period.”

She inclined her head and pushed for a little more. “What’s so bad about the CIA? The whole world is convinced that the CIA has ultimate power and prestige.” That much was true. But those with the real power were few and far between, that was the part they never showed in the movies.

Lucas chuckled. “Agent North, my organization is what the CIA wishes it were.”

His statement validated the rumors she’d heard. “When do I go to work?”

“Tomorrow. A cab will pick you up early and take you to the airport. Someone will be waiting at O’Hare to take you to your temporary quarters. This assignment may last a few days or a few weeks. I can’t be sure at this point. Don’t take anything from home. We’ll furnish everything you need.”

She knew a moment’s uneasiness, but only a moment. “What about my work at Langley?” If this didn’t pan out and she miraculously survived...

“Time off has been cleared with your immediate superior. He doesn’t know why and doesn’t need to. Once this mission is over, you can decide if you want to take me up on my offer or go back to your job with the Agency.”

Sounded fair enough. “All right.” This was the opportunity she’d waited for, a chance to prove what she was made of. “Once I’m in Chicago where do I start?”

“Our boy hangs out most weekends in a club downtown called the Metro Link.”

She’d read that in the sketchy personal info on the phone.

“You’ll need to commit to memory the meager intel we have on this guy.”

“Already did.” She passed the phone back to him. “How come there’s nothing on the guy who hired him except a visual image?” That part struck her as odd. Lucas certainly sounded as if he knew more about the guy than what he looked like.

“Intel will be provided as necessary.” He dropped the phone into his briefcase as he stood. “I think you understand what to do from here.”

Nothing she hadn’t expected. “How do I let you know once I’ve made contact with the target?” she asked as she followed him to the door.

“I’ll be in touch with you when the time comes.”

Translation: Lucas Camp would be watching.

“By the way.” He hesitated before going out the door. “Just in case you were wondering, Agent Bauer’s nose isn’t broken.”

Before she could ask how the hell he knew about Martin’s little test and her performance he’d disappeared into the night.

Just like a ghost.

Chapter 7

Victoria stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time that night, the brush clasped in her hand as she stroked her long, dark hair. The silver streaks gleamed in the light, reminding her of just how old she really was. So much time had passed...and nothing in her personal life had changed. Beethoven’s “Moonlight” Sonata played softly in the background. The music usually relaxed her, but it wasn’t working so well tonight.

She sighed and laid the brush on the vanity table next to her bottles of perfumes and cosmetics, all lined in a neat row awaiting her attention. There was moisturizer for her skin, anti-aging cream for the fine lines that marred her eyes and mouth. And, of course, the skin firmer for less delicate parts of the anatomy. Everything that one could need to remain youthful looking.

Maybe she should have started using the products long ago. Then perhaps she would not look quite so old. But nothing she applied to her skin would change the way she felt inside.

Ancient would be the best description.

Age had never really bothered her until now. She looked down at the bare ring finger of her left hand, and for a moment her chest tightened with anxiety. She’d made a new commitment today. One that in no way lessened the old one, but rather, forged a new path for her to move forward. Looking back was definitely not good for her peace of mind. James was gone. It was well past time to move on. Lucas was alive and ready to move into the future with her.

She peered at the weary face in the mirror. But was she really ready for that journey? Her right hand moved to her chest, settling over her heart. On a conscious, cognitive level she felt ready. It was her heart that hesitated, that worried about starting over.

Victoria stood and moved away from the vanity table. She paused in front of the full-length mirror mounted on the wall near her walk-in closet. She was almost fifty. What did Lucas see when he looked at her?

Tugging the silk belt free she shrugged out of the robe, allowing it to puddle around her feet. She studied her nude body then. Her skin was still slightly flushed from her long, hot soak in the tub. Her dark hair, even with the silver streaks, contrasted sharply against her pale flesh. She’d never really noticed that before. Would the contrast please Lucas? Or did it only make her look pale and haggard?

Pushing that worrisome detail aside, she moved on to other features. Her breasts were still reasonably firm and high, not that they’d ever been that large, but they were presentable, she supposed. Her husband had never complained, but then, that had been a very long time ago.

Her waist narrowed nicely and her hips flared just enough, though she couldn’t quite claim a flat tummy. Time and gravity had taken its toll there as well as behind, she noted as she turned slightly. Her legs were fairly toned, mostly from the treadmill she used every morning.

She wondered what kind of women Lucas had been involved with in the past. Though he’d never been married she felt certain there had been numerous lovers; after all, he was a very handsome man with endless charm. A smile relaxed across her lips and affection twinkled in her brown eyes. Did her eyes glitter that way when she smiled at Lucas? She sighed, anxiety gnawing at her insides. Just something else to wonder about. She would know soon enough.

Locating panties and a nightgown, she dressed for bed, then turned off the lights except the one on her bedside table and crawled beneath the covers. She didn’t have to bother with turning off the music, it was on a timer. An hour from now it would end on a graceful note and, if she were lucky, she would be fast asleep. The day had been long and tiring. Going to the cemetery always affected her that way. She thought of the way she’d buried her wedding band and took a moment to search her heart now for regret or guilt but found none. She stared up at the ceiling and wondered at the lack of the emotions she’d fully expected to experience. Fifteen years was certainly long enough to grieve. She needed to move on. Living in the past had taken a heavy toll on her in the past few months.

It wasn’t really moving into a relationship with Lucas that weighed so heavily upon her, she felt reasonably sure. James would want her to be happy, there was no question there. It was her son.

He’d been gone for eighteen years. His twenty-fifth birthday would have been last month.

Her heart felt like a load of bricks in her chest as she sat upright and struggled for breath. Tears burned her eyes even now, after all those years. If only she could have had closure. The not knowing was the worst. She could only imagine the horrors her child had suffered before his death. Oh, she’d tried to pretend that some kind family had found and raised him. A couple who had been desperate because they couldn’t have a child of their own. But that wasn’t likely. She didn’t need an FBI profiler to tell her the score. She was all too well aware of what happened to most children who vanished into thin air.

She closed her eyes and forced away the thought of Leberman. Both she and James had been certain he had had something to do with Jimmy’s disappearance, but they’d never been able to find any proof. And as the years had dragged on that possibility had diminished. Leberman wanted to hurt them. If he’d been the one to take their child, wouldn’t he have used him to wield the ultimate pain? Another part of her was utterly convinced that Leberman was indeed the culprit. But she would never be certain.

They’d searched the lake for weeks. James had hired special diving teams even after the authorities had given up. He and Lucas had worked personally with those men. If he’d somehow ended up in the water, surely they would have found something...anything. But there was always the possibility that he was out there...beneath the glassy surface of that lake near the house she’d once called home. She shuddered at the thought.

She hadn’t been able to stay in that house after James had died. It was a splendid home. They’d planned its design together, had enjoyed every moment of the work involved in bringing it to life. The place was beautiful still...but she couldn’t go back there. Too many memories. Yet she hadn’t been able to part with the property, either. Too much of James was there, and then one of the FBI agents working her son’s case had told her that sometimes when stolen children grew older, assuming they survived, they found their way back home...to the last home they’d known with their families. So she’d kept the house. The agency used it as a safe house or for the occasional VIP since it wasn’t that far outside the city. But she never went there...never.

She didn’t like thinking about it. The memories were too painful.

Victoria threw the covers back and climbed from the bed that had felt like heaven on earth a few minutes ago but now closed in on her like a prison. She padded to the kitchen and peered into the refrigerator to see what looked good. She wasn’t really hungry, but she’d do anything to take her mind off the past. Lucas crossed her mind briefly, but she dismissed the idea. Too late for coffee and conversation...too soon for anything else. Food would have to suffice. Carrots, salad fixings. She made a face. Not in the mood. Yogurt. Not tonight.