Chapter Eighteen

Leah’s sobs ended and her breathing became deep and steady. Zoe removed the GPS tracker from a compact in her purse and with a gentle press placed it behind the sleeping child’s right earlobe. Leah didn’t stir.

A muffled high-pitched, “beep-beep, beep-beep” like a telegraph came from her purse. Shane’s text tone.

Zoe went into the bathroom with her phone and shut the door behind her. She sat on the toilet lid and read Shane’s text: Increased chatter. Chinese know about Leah. Must get code in three days per Easton.

He’d sent it to Ramos too. She wrote back: Understand.

She dialed Isabel.

Two rings, and then Isabel said, “How’s my badass?”

Zoe shivered at her husky voice. Her redheaded lady was the only drug she’d ever be addicted to once she got clean.

Zoe said, “Hmmm…let me see. It’s one forty-five p.m. in Albuquerque. You’re sitting at home, right, with your feet up on the couch?”

“Cute. No, at the office. Why are you whispering? I can barely hear you.”

“Leah’s sleeping nearby. I miss you. I hadn’t heard from you and I was getting worried. How are you?”

“I miss you too. I was just about to text you. I’m doing okay. Just a lot going on.”

“Anything I need to know about?”

“Chinese are onto Leah.”

“Yeah, I know. Shane just texted me.”

“Other than that, it’s the same depressing place.”

“Any more talk of that ‘room’ where strange things happen?”

“No, but I haven’t had time to do the watercooler chat. Yesterday I was at the office thirteen hours.”

Zoe shook her head. And Isabel seriously believed they’d have time to care for children? Really?

“How’s it going with Leah so far?”

“Okay, I guess. I like her. She’s a toughie. I had some little breakthroughs, but who knows in the morning how’ll she be. I haven’t asked her anything yet about spider riddles. I’m trying to build a rapport with her. But Shane tells me I’ve got only three days now. I don’t know how I’m going to do it with this short deadline. She doesn’t talk. She mostly just asks questions.”

“She asks questions because she’s trying to figure out what’s happening to her. Her world has crashed down around her. You can understand that, can’t you?”

“Yes, I can. Good insight. I know I’m impatient, but I do try to remember what you told me about trying to get into her head and see it from a child’s point of view, to understand her emotional trauma.”

“Wow, you sound like a mom. That’s wonderful to hear. I knew you’d be a great parent once you got over your insecurities.”

Zoe rubbed her tired eyes. Not the parent thing again. “I need some sleep. I wanted to hear your voice.”

“I’m glad you called. Put the deadline out of your mind. Stay with your strategy. You can do it. I love you.”

“I love you too. Bye, baby, talk soon.”

“Be safe. I’m thinking of you every minute.”

Zoe disconnected from the smoky, sultry voice that fanned the flames in her heart with its generous passion, and tiptoed from the stateroom.

Upstairs in the salon, Ramos was working on his computer. A half-full glass of red wine and a device—a thin palm-sized box—sat next to his computer.

He closed his laptop. “The kid sleeping?”

Zoe slid onto the couch next to him. “Yes, finally. Working?”

“Yep. After Shane’s text, I thought I’d better double-check our firewall and our security shields. So far so good. We’re solid, and no sign of any hacking attempts.”

“Care to share the wine?” she said, looking at the open bottle of red wine and empty wineglass. A meat and cheese platter also sat on the table.

He pushed the empty glass and wine bottle closer to her.

She looked at the label before she poured. “A local Maltese Merlot. I had one at dinner and liked it.”

She took a sip and rested back on the firm cushion, savoring the wine’s velvety texture. The door to the cockpit was open and a warm mist brushed her cheeks.

Ramos said, “I like their wine too. It’s a good thing we do, as I discovered the boat is only stocked with wine from the island’s wineries.”

A clear night, he’d retracted the sunroof and she gazed up at the sparkling darkness. Taking another drink, she glanced around the plush salon. Embedded lights shone down like little suns from the polished ceiling. Behind her, in the elevated lounge, a light beige leather couch ran along the base of the panoramic windows. Across from the couch, at the helm, a spacious high-backed captain’s chair sat in front of the black-upholstered dash panel. Ramos was right. They’d be comfortable here.

He sliced several pieces of cheese and wolfed one down. “Help yourself.”

Zoe speared the smallest slice with her fork. She was too tired to eat. “Thanks for fixing the snack.”

“No big deal. I’m hungry. We’re not only stocked with wine. We have enough food on the cruiser for a month. The agency sure knows how to take care of its operatives.”

He grabbed a piece of salami and as he chewed, he studied her. “Dealing with that kid has to be exhausting. She’s quite the spitfire. Did you get the GPS locator on her?”

She nodded.

“Good, not that we probably need it being anchored out here at sea, but a smart move regardless.” He pointed at the window. “See, I made it look like we’re night fishing.” He’d put out poles, nets, and light sticks. “Italy’s Special Forces gave us those light sticks. They’re actually communication devices. They have 3-D binoculars, to read holographic codes we can program on the sticks—as backup in case the ship is disabled. This cruiser has a full electronics suite and all the navigation bells and whistles—radar, sonar, GPS, charting, et cetera.”

He became animated when he talked tech. She didn’t get why he’d traded the freedom to play with his spy gadgets as much as he wanted to join a structured organization where’d he spend most of his time tracking information. “Why did you come to GTA? I thought you liked being your own boss.”

He shrugged. “Shane loves it at the agency. He says Easton is a great boss—generous with bonuses. And Shane and I cut a deal. I’m not going to be sitting in the office all the time. I’ll get to be in the field frequently—like this op—where I can try out the latest equipment. Plus, being in the agency, I’m a part of the cutting edge of marrying surveillance to the rapid advances in artificial intelligence and nanotechnology. Jesus! Nowhere else could I have that chance. And who knows where being Director of Surveillance will lead…the head of the CIA?”

She stared down at the dark redness in her glass. Just as she thought. Money and power. What an ambitious jerk. He didn’t discuss the honor and valor depicted in that SEAL Trident tattooed on his upper arm—the eagle clutching an anchor, trident, and pistol—that she’d stared at in combat training as his fist came at her. You’d think he’d express how he wanted to continue being a heroic warrior. After all, that was what GTA was all about.

“My, my, you have some grand plans,” she said. “What does Shane think about them? I heard you two were a thing.”

He held up crossed fingers. “Yeah, we are. We’re very tight. He’s cool with whatever makes me happy. You know Shane. He’s comfortable in his own skin and that’s one of the things I love about him most. He’s not threatened by me being my own person.”

She nodded. His description of Shane was on target. It explained how they could be a couple. You’d have to be secure with yourself to deal with Ramos’s cockiness. And Shane was. She couldn’t recall him ever acting jealous of others’ success or insecure in promoting people. In that way, he was great.

They drank in silence for a moment. He bent over and opened a drawer from under the couch. He held up a small metal box. Unlocking it, he said, “I brought a replica of the Black Widow prototype.” He placed the shiny black spider down in front of her.

She resisted the urge to knock it off its spindly legs and send it flying across the table. It sure looked real.

Grabbing more salami, Ramos said between bites, “We can show the kid this at breakfast.”

“No. Way too early. Remember, the Black Widow was on her dresser at bedtime when she’d do spider riddle games with her father. It wouldn’t make any sense dumping it in front of her at breakfast, and I don’t want to do anything that might risk her withdrawing. I’ll put it out once I feel we’ve bonded enough to talk about it.”

He took the prototype’s keypad from the box. “I made a replica of this too. In my research on the Exploder software, I learned this device requires a code that is a mix of ten letters and numbers. That’s one hell of a complicated code to coax out of the kid in three days. I think you need to rethink your approach of pampering her.”

Oh, so Mr.-Know-It-All knew how to handle a traumatized child better. She gave him an icy glare. “I’m happy to step back and let you take over my role. I can give you nineteen riddles to memorize tonight as well as Leah’s several-page profile to study. You’ve got your Greek language app, so you’re all set.”

He gave her a cold look back. “Look, you got the update just like I did. We’re being hunted. We don’t have time to coddle her. I got an inventory of the weapons we were given for this op. Is there any truth serum left? We can use it on her and get the code. To me that’d be the way to go. Fast and easy.”

A shimmering moonlit trail danced on the sea, its bright path diminishing as it headed into the night’s darkness. Zoe took a long swallow of wine. Actually, Ramos’s idea wasn’t a bad one, if it’d just been a truth serum.

She said, “While a good thought, the serum was modified and causes agonizing pain. It was supposed to paralyze, but as you can see from my bruised face, it failed to do that.”

The right side of Ramos’s mouth lifted in a cruel grin and he pierced a thin piece of cheese with a knife. The tip scraped the china with a jarring sound. “We don’t need to paralyze the kid. We can tie her up.”

“What?” She glared at him. “Did you hear what I said? I said it caused terrible pain.”

He continued to smile, and rage boiled up in her. She twitched her left shoulder as it burned. Her Woodbury instructors had sneering smiles…smiles which showed pleasure in inflicting pain on children.

Seizing the knife, she held it against his throat. “No one hurts a child on my watch.”

Ramos stiffened. “Get that fucking thing away from me.”

Staring into his angry eyes, she pressed the knife tip against his neck’s carotid artery. “I wouldn’t advise testing me. I will slice your throat. Are we in agreement that Leah will not be harmed?”

Furious, he slipped into his native Portuguese language and said, “Sim.”

Holding his gaze, she said, “Good. Stay out of my way. I will complete this mission successfully. I always do.” She placed the knife down on the platter.

As he downed his wine, he scowled at her. He poured himself another. “Don’t give me that judging, contemptuous look. You can’t escape what we do, what we are.”

She stood. “Good night.”

His cynical gaze mocked her, and he picked up the palm-sized box next to his computer and held it up. “This is a decoder. I’ll be ready at a moment’s notice to run possible code combinations through it. The bot is in the drawer under the couch for when you need it.”

He raised his wineglass. “Sleep well.”