Inked [From the CIA 1] (BookStrand Publishing Romance) Read online

  Her anger kept her mind alert. “Just how long till things will be taken care of here?” She had been on too many operations not to know this particular situation held the scent of dead fish and became stronger with each diversion.

  “I’m sure there’ll be orders for you and whoever else is working with you as soon as the morning officers arrive.”

  “What makes you think I’m working with someone? I never got a chance to mention which plan I’m working with.”

  The guard coughed. “There’s always more than one.”

  “You’re wrong there. Why don’t you tell me what plan I’m assigned to, and then I’ll believe whatever orders you pass on.” She stared him down. “By the way, I know I should’ve been allowed in even if the door scanner wouldn’t allow me to enter without your assistance.

  “Maybe that’s why we do know what operation you’re involved with.”

  “Maybe. But I doubt that.”

  The turbulent conversation halted as another guard’s announcement echoed down the hall. “Hey Gunner, we’ve got a visitor.” Gunner must be a nickname. Why? Why didn’t they follow standard procedures and why did they care whether she knew their names? Something’s not right.

  Gunner glanced toward the hall, back at Mary, then left the room with a slam of the door. She heard a lock engage at the handle.

  Great. Locked in. Mary got up and began to pace the room. She wondered what happened with Cal and the intruder. She knew Cal was on her side, even if all things were possible. He’d saved her more than once and she’d paid him back. Not in the most traditional way, but it gave her an excuse to feel his hot body, and only God knew how much she craved having him without admitting any need or dependence.

  She shook her head, convincing herself she could come up with a plan to get out of here. Not knowing where Cal was, she’d have to do this one on her own. She didn’t know the layout of the building very well, so she summoned her instincts for action. The narrow window couldn’t be opened and the lock on the door didn’t help.

  An overused yet reliable excuse came to mind. She’d have to wait for one of the guards to return.

  * * * *

  “I have to use the lady’s room,” Mary greeted Gunner. She smiled to give him credit for not letting her sit too long and to let him think she’d thought it over and would be a cooperative visitor.

  Gunner rolled his eyes. “Follow me. It’s down the next hall.” He barely gave her time to round the table in the middle of the room as he headed further into the vacuous building. Maybe he didn’t consider her much of a threat and really was waiting for verification of her identity. More probably, he didn’t think she had a chance of fleeing the embassy under his guard.

  As they stopped in the hall, she gave him a cursory nod and pulled the bathroom door open to slip into the single-person accommodations. She looked around for something sharp. The best apparatus for her purpose turned out to be the cutting edge of the large roll of toilet paper.

  Gritting her teeth, she lifted her ankle to the semi-sharp edge of the paper dispenser and yanked her skin across it. Not enough. Think of escape. Think of escape. She scored her ankle again and deepened the cut on her ankle until a bubble of blood seeped from the cut.

  No time to pretend modesty. She ran her fingers over the blood before she wiped her ankle with the paper. Swinging the door open, she held her hand up for the guard. His eyebrows arched in question.

  “I got my period and the machine is empty.” His mouth opened and shut. “There aren’t any tampons in the machine. Can you get me one from another restroom?” She broke his comfort zone as planned.

  He shifted his feet a couple times, said nothing, and turned to go further down the hall. When Gunner turned another corner, Mary slipped out of the bathroom and ran on tiptoes toward the side exit.

  As she came up to the room she had been in, she heard low voices from behind a neighboring, slightly ajar door. If she listened for a minute, she might hear something to help clear up what the guards were up to. She didn’t have much time before Gunner returned and found her gone. A little information could go a long way, though.

  She paused at the side of the door where she heard the voices.

  “…not my fault.”

  She wanted to know what fault someone claimed wasn’t his. At the same time, she listened for steps in the hall and turned to look for Gunner. Two more seconds and she’d chance it.

  “You had orders.” Orders from whom, to do what?

  “I did what I was told.” She leaned toward the small opening of the door. If only she could see who was talking. She glanced back down the hall. Turning back to the occupied room, she crouched down and edged closer. Just a glimpse.

  Mary sucked in air as she saw who sat in the room. One of the guards, standing, had his back to the door while the man he questioned sat in front of him. Her peripheral view didn’t show enough to know which of the look-alike guards was present. The guard held his gun at his waist, but the purpose for the weapon wasn’t obvious. Whether the gun kept the man in his seat or not, she didn’t know.

  Changing tactics, the guard asked, “Why did you show up here alone?” Mary shook her head trying to figure out the conversation.

  She pulled back from the view and took a slow, deep breath. One more peek and she’d better get moving. She stole one last glance into the room. The guard blocking the seated man shifted to the side.

  Dark hair, olive skin, and black clothes came into view. This man was the intruder from earlier in the evening. She needed to move and fast.

  Staying crouched, she snuck past the door. The intense discussion kept their attention away from her. She saw a red blur from the exit sign down the hall. Standing back up, she began to run.

  She didn’t know what she ran from or what she’d be running to once she evacuated the embassy. Thinking the US embassy would be her safe place and end of a run before dawn, she needed time to figure out her next move. That is if she got out before the faint footsteps coming toward this hall caught her again.

  A thin layer of moisture sprouted on her forehead. It wasn’t caused by heat. The building retained a constant temperature and low humidity. Nerves did funny things to the nervous.

  She drew her hand across her forehead and then wiped the moisture on the thin material of her pants. She’d need something better to wear to not get noticed if she had to traverse Cairo on her own.

  At the top of her mind was the exit door she approached by running on her tiptoes the length of the hall. She didn’t hear anyone behind her as her thudding heart was the only thing filling her ears. Whether or not the guard saw her leave, she just needed to get out.

  Hugging the door, her breath came out in hot blasts. A circle of moisture formed on the steel door. She rounded her hand on the steel lever, praying that an alarm didn’t sound when she opened it. Never leaving an embassy, let alone this embassy, from a side exit, she didn’t know if an alarm would be a standard installation.

  Tightening her grip, she eased the lever down. She cringed inside as she waited for the blast of sound she half expected.

  The latch clicked. She wasted a second, recovering from her surprise at the silence of the door. Knowing her safety inside the embassy would soon expire, she shoved it open and ducked out and to the side of the closing door.

  Her gaze swept the grounds and returned to the door, which took its time returning to a closed position. Her legs sank in a controlled move against the cool cement of the building. She made another quick scan of the artificially greened lawn and the lack of obstacles to get to the street.

  That may sound like an ideal position to be in, but she was sure the guard had discovered that his visitor had left the premises by now and she needed cover. Accepting her need to remain hidden in the open with the sun peeping over the horizon as a prelude to dawn, she remained low and slunk along the wall to the back of the embassy.

  Constantly catching pieces of the material flowing from her pantaloons und
erfoot, she kept her sight on the corner. Her heart rate elevated the closer she got. A few more steps and she’d be semi-safe before the exit door re-opened to retrieve her. To be exact, it was ten more feet to the corner. She could see the slight changes of color in the cement at the edge of the wall. She was so close.

  Her breathing became heavy again, as if she had run a marathon. She reached out her hand and curved it around the bend in the wall and pulled herself out of sight from the still-closed exit door.

  The back side of the embassy replicated the former side. Decorative shrubs hadn’t been planned to beautify the building. Shrubs would offer places to harbor individuals not wanted on the property. She now fit that identity.

  Mary attempted to calm herself and decide what her next move would be. The map in her head of the surrounding streets and businesses was sketchy, yet she needed an out from the embassy. Not knowing who to trust, she couldn’t contact anyone on the inside again. The only one she trusted to be on the same side as herself was who knew where.

  Cal may have been detained and kept from her in another part of the embassy, or he may have left. If he left, she didn’t know if he knew about her situation. She didn’t know if he would come back, or if he’d been followed or if he had deserted her on purpose.

  His number one rule was to protect his partner. She believed it. The “what if” in the back of her logic randomly popped through and irritated her. What if he gave up on her? What if he thought she had reached safety in the embassy and only needed to protect himself? She didn’t allow herself to consider that he left her at the embassy to be done away with.

  She had heard tales of the missing CIA agents. They’d be the lead players in a black ops or clandestine operation, never get to the finale or end, and then disappear. The bureau claimed extensive search-and-rescue divisions were sent after the missing, then the mission would be quietly tucked away and conveniently not mentioned again until forgotten.

  She wondered what really happened to the missing. Maybe it was her time to find out.

  She commanded herself to make a plan and quit thinking of the unknown. Catching her breath, she looked across the back lawn. Two evergreen hedges, trimmed and sticking out in the middle of the lawn, offered her the only cover before the street.

  With the light crossing low in the sky, she tucked herself down and ran to the far side of the hedge. She rolled under the edges of the bristly branches. Lying on her stomach, she searched the lawn for activity.

  Near the street, from the side lawn she had evacuated, trooped the guard she had sent for the feminine hygiene product. It almost looked like he didn’t want anyone to notice him looking for a lost person. He did have his gun held at waist level. She watched his head move, as if he scanned the street.

  He definitely had a mission in finding her. She scooted closer to the center of the hedge. Pebbles from the gravel skirting the hedge grazed her hip and snagged the soiled blouse.

  She watched the guard quicken his pace back to the side door. She couldn’t see him anymore, but he must’ve gone back in.

  She rolled to the outside of the shrub, stayed crouched, and scuttled to the sidewalk. Rising up, she crossed the unoccupied street and stepped under the shadows of a tobacco store awning. The stores abutted one another with random breaks for alleys. Glancing both ways, she continued a forcedly casual walk away from the side of the embassy the guard had left. She passed under a couple awnings until she came upon one that had streams of flags waving off the edges.

  Reaching up, she tugged a pale-colored strand of material from one of the flags. As it floated down from its hanger, she covered her hair and wrapped the ends around her neck. Time to blend in and hide in plain sight.

  Soon as she got away from here she’d have to get different clothes and makeup. She needed a base cover to smear across the tattoo. With that branding, she’d never get away from Chenzira’s goons who had to be swarming Cairo for her by now.

  One enemy at a time.

  A narrow, dark alley separated the next bundle of businesses. She shot a last glance toward the embassy as she came up to the separation of buildings with her back toward the alley.

  A rough hand clasped over her mouth while another pulled her into the still-dark passage.

  Chapter 13

  Mary struggled to get her footing after being dragged a dozen feet into the alley. She felt like a rag doll grabbed by a mighty force, yet she had no intention of giving in. Not allowing whoever accosted her to get the next move, she swung her elbow straight back and hit him below the ribs.

  She clamped her teeth down into the hand crushing her mouth. Both arms flew back and released her, but as she lunged toward the street the unbitten hand pulled her hair back.

  “Mary, stop. It’s me.”

  She stumbled back as she recognized the throaty voice near her ear. The surge of adrenaline leveled off immediately and she stumbled backward, hitting her back against a firm body.

  Sucking in the tears that nearly escaped her eyes, she turned to her captor. “Cal, oh my God.” She didn’t know where to start. Should she tell him she was on the run from some or all of the guards at the embassy? That her plan to escape hadn’t been formulated and she’d run blindly? That she wished with all her might that Cal would be true to his promise and protect her?

  Cal turned her around to face him. Before she could begin to tell him what happened and what she found out, or the questions that arose, steamy lips mashed against her own. As if she hadn’t melted from the surprise attack already, she trembled as his arms encircled her.

  He pulled away and looked down at her. “I didn’t know what happened to you, where you were, or if you were safe.”

  She interrupted. “If I had been there much longer, I don’t think I would’ve been safe.” No sense in commenting on the kiss that, if it continued, could make her forget about her predicament.

  “I figured that much out.” He looked over her head toward the street as he spoke.

  “What…?”

  “Let’s get out of here. We’re far from safe this close to the embassy.” He grabbed her hand and snaked his way down the alley, past garbage receptacles and random boxes pushed against the walls. A stale and rotten scent simmered from the cans, surely to get worse as the sun rose. Cal stepped in front of Mary as he stopped at the end of the alley, which opened to another street.

  He glanced both directions before continuing, and then pulled her to his side and held her hand as if they were adoring tourists on an early morning self-guided tour. She’d pretend to consider it a work tactic without any emotion. She’d responded to the kiss because it surprised her. She didn’t want Cal to think her weak and unable to keep focused. It didn’t occur to her that he’d be unfocused.

  “There’s a bank close by. There’s always one near the embassy. We need to find it.”

  His words completely brought her back to the moment and reminded her of the dangers on both sides of their original assignment. “How much money do you have left?”

  “I haven’t had a chance to count, but I know Ali carried a lot more than a typical courier or more likely a henchman.” She looked up to his intent eyes and raised her brow. “He told me his name is Ali. Don’t know if it’s true, but we’ll call him that.”

  “I’m guessing you think we need to get out of here?”

  He gave a bright smile, as if in a loving conversation. “Yes. We need to get a hold of Grant back home first.”

  Mary reflexively swung her head toward him. “Are you sure he’s on our side? I didn’t get to tell you what happened at the embassy, yet.”

  “I’ve worked with him for many years, but you might have a point.” He made another cursory look around the new block they entered. “Let’s grab breakfast under that awning a couple doors down. We need to compare notes, and I’m starving. No one would expect us to be sitting within a couple blocks of the embassy after you just escaped.”

  “Then we can figure out what to do and in what orde
r,” she completed his thought.

  They approached the designated café and weaved amongst the scattered tables to one against the building and in the shadows. Instinctively, they sat with their backs to the street to use the window of the café as a mirror.

  A waitress came quickly and took their order before she quietly left to retrieve a carafe of hot tea.

  Mary gave the details of her stay in the locked room of the US Embassy and her all-woman escape plan. “I don’t know which guard or guards are connected to Ali, but something isn’t right.”

  “I figured so much when Ali was nearly invited in.”

  Noticing the dirt streaked on her sleeve and the snags on the front of her blouse, she mentioned, “We need different clothes, too.”

  “You’re right. I’m sure there’s a place around here for clothes, then we’ll get more money and call Grant.”

  “He should be last. Just in case. The CIA will notice the use of the bank and definitely a call.”

  “After that we need to get out of town.”

  They smiled and remained silent as the waitress brought their tea.

  Mary watched the waitress until she was out of hearing range. “In case Grant can’t help us, we better have an idea of where to go.”

  “Better safe than sorry. I have an idea.”

  The food appeared and they ate in silence. Cal dropped his napkin on the floor. Bending to retrieve it, he scanned the street. Toward the end of the rapidly vanishing meal, Mary readjusted her position and allowed for another look to their surroundings. Nothing unusual.

  * * * *

  “I got as much as I could,” Cal informed her as he stuffed a wad of money in the front pockets of the new cotton cargo pants while he jogged out onto the street from the bank. From lower pockets he pulled out the disposable cell phones they picked up after dining.