They inched their way through the congested Prague evening traffic. With her uncle immersed in reading and Shane concentrating on driving, Zoe rested back in her seat and blew out an excited breath. Despite her uncle’s disappointment with her, she savored this field experience with him. Her childhood fantasy of him and her together—rescuing people, and racing in enemy car chases like in the stories he’d told her about when he was a Green Beret—had come to life. Being on a team with him was just as she imagined it’d be.
“I like ‘hit and run,’” she said.
Without looking up, Easton laughed. His laugh was loud and deep, like his speaking voice.
Elation burst through her at his laughter. He wasn’t disappointed in her, after all. If he were, he’d have ignored her comment.
A sudden heat wave rushed through her, and she brushed a damp hair lock off her sweaty neck. Another hot flash?
They stopped at a light, and she made eye contact with Shane in the rearview mirror. He must’ve been out in the field to get that nasty scratch.
“Everything okay?” he said.
She raised a questioning brow. What an odd question. He gazed at her intently. Oh, her swollen nose. He must have noticed it. Its throbbing seemed to be getting worse and Zoe resisted the urge to touch it to see if it’d swelled more. At least he acknowledged her injury, unlike her uncle.
He handed her a bottle of water over his shoulder. Taking it, she said, “Thank you,” and then guzzled a third. The drugs made her thirsty.
The new prescription.
That’s why he’d asked her if everything was okay and studied her like she was a specimen in a petri dish. Zoe gave Shane a cold stare. She had some words for him about changing her prescription without talking to her first—but not here with her uncle. She couldn’t let on that it affected her. She had to stay a superwoman. And, with Easton’s proud glow shining down on her, the time was right for her to request a transfer to the Albuquerque headquarters so she could move in with Isabel and get married.
She’d promised Isabel three months ago that she’d ask Easton for the transfer but had avoided doing so. It wouldn’t be an easy conversation, and she feared he’d refuse. Zoe suspected her uncle had stationed her in Chicago to keep them apart. He didn’t do it because of their lesbian relationship. One of her uncle’s admirable traits was that he didn’t have such prejudices. She believed he kept them separated because of her attachment to Isabel. He was threatened by anything she cared about other than GTA.
Zoe took another sip of water, and Shane said, “Are you getting air back there? Do you need me to raise the AC?”
“I’m fine, thanks.”
Shane returned his attention to the traffic and Zoe studied the strange new sight of the straight edge to her uncle’s hairline. It’d been a major surprise to see his thick snow-white hair cropped into a military cut. He’d always been proud of his hair’s fullness, sporting the same long, tapered side part for years. While it’d take her some time to get used to this new severe look on him, she had to admit it fit him well.
She was glad he hadn’t changed being a sharp dresser. Tonight he wore a tailored navy jacket and a white shirt with a burgundy tie.
But he had another surprise for her, a worrisome one. He now showed his age. With his phenomenal energy, he usually had a refreshed look that took twenty years off his sixty-three.
Not this evening. Dark circles ringed his eyes and his lean face was creased with weariness.
Her back stiffened. Could her uncle’s physical changes be related to that disturbing article on the CIA’s “Behavioral Engineering” program he was reading now? She’d seen it on his tablet.
Why would he be interested in revisiting such a grotesque program? Behavioral engineering was what the CIA had called their horrific mind-control experiments on humans in the 1950s and 1960s.
Knowing her methodical uncle, he had a purpose for his every move and no second was wasted. That’s why this new severe cut fit him. Not one excess hair on his neck. Just like how he planned and directed every op. Nothing was unaccounted for, nothing left to chance. He executed every action with a single-minded focus to win, making him the perfect leader for the agency.
So, this CIA behavioral engineering paper had to be something worthy of his time, and about something which would benefit GTA. Could he be contemplating a similar program? After he’d left the Special Forces, he went to the CIA. He still had contacts there. A joint program between the two agencies?
“Curiouser and curiouser! cried Alice.” The quote from her favorite childhood story, Alice’s Adventure in Wonderland, popped into Zoe’s mind as her gaze wandered to the window.
Outside, smiling people chatted as they sipped cocktails in outdoor restaurants. Colorful light strands decorated sidewalk café bushes, and arched awnings framed the picture-perfect romantic evening. Friends linked arms as they window-shopped. A normal evening out for them.
Normalcy…a separate universe from her world.
They passed a couple holding hands. The woman—a curvaceous redhead—reminded her of Isabel.
Zoe’s chest tightened. She couldn’t let anything interfere with the transfer happening. When Isabel brought up marriage, she’d agreed without hesitation. She loved Isabel and needed her. Isabel’s steadfast unconditional love shined like the North Star as violence raged around them. She couldn’t imagine life without her.
Easton shifted to see her. Zoe had no idea what he was thinking. The silvery hue in his gray eyes made his gaze enigmatic. Sometimes his eyes flashed a smoky blue or light amber or even an emerald green, giving him a mystical look. But no matter what color they were, they gave you one hundred percent attention. At this moment, she was the center of his universe.
“Zoe,” he said. “Tonight’s success was critical and you were instrumental in making it happen. That’s my girl.”
A bitter taste filled her mouth, spoiling her happiness at his praise. That damn phrase: That’s my girl. Would he ever stop using it? It triggered memories of when he’d dismissed her Woodbury injuries. When she came home on breaks all beaten up, he’d look at her and say that and then shut her down when she tried to talk about it. Like now how he ignored her smashed-up face. Even though she understood he turned a blind eye to what happened to her to make her strong, the hurt burned as hot in her gut at this moment as it did then.
He leaned in closer to her, his eyes a glowing emerald. He repeated, “That’s. My. Girl.”
She froze at the cold truth in his penetrating gaze.
Yes, his girl.
Like him.
Driven to get the bad guys.
Married to the job.
The left side of his face twitched, and he said, “It had to be you to handle Mitropoulos’s assassination tonight. Not only was it a high-profile event, it involved a weapon which will radically change warfare. We had to have the nanobot. I had many operatives at the reception, as you know. Many choices. But no one can hold a candle to your grit and determination. You keep going. You have laser focus. You don’t let yourself get thrown off track. That’s why it had to be you.
“And you have loyalty to our cause. You understand what it means. Not only are lives at stake, this first-of-its-kind cloaking weapon has made science fiction an ominous reality. Civilization is now at risk. There is nothing more important than what we do.”
He paused. “That’s why I need you.”
Another pause.
“The mission is all, isn’t it?” he said. “Repeat it after me: The. Mission. Is. All.”
“The mission is all.” Not a good time to tell him she and Isabel wanted to get married, she realized as she parroted it back. They’d have to slow it down.
His commitment to the job so deep, her uncle had never married. His relationships consisted of one-nighters with high-class call girls.
Easton nodded at her recitation and swung around, his head dropping to stare at his tablet.
But how to approach it? Her brain went into overdrive. The strategy would be she and Isabel were only moving in together. They’d let time pass to show him nothing would change with them as professionals—it’d be business as usual. And it would be. On call twenty-four-seven, Isabel decoded messages, developed viruses, and managed GTA’s cyberwarfare. And with the Wildcat’s globe-trotting, their time together would remain limited.
Once they were off her uncle’s radar, they’d proceed with marriage. It’d work for her. She didn’t need a formalized document announcing their status. She only needed to be with Isabel.
Besides, they weren’t going to hide their engagement. She’d bought a heart-shaped one-and-a-half carat diamond and sapphire halo ring for Isabel. She selected it the Monday after their wonderful weekend three months ago, when they celebrated Isabel’s birthday and made the decision to marry. She’d pick it up when she got back home to Chicago, and sometime on their vacation next week she’d surprise her with it.
Zoe squeezed her hands together in her lap. The three months had flown, and Isabel had made it clear in a conversation last week that her patience was running out. Would her impatient love agree to push marriage back another year or so?
Shane drove onto a side street and parked, leaving the engine running. Prague Castle dominated the horizon. They’d arrived at her drop-off location.
Easton said over his shoulder to her, “See you on Monday.”
“Yes.” She had to attend the one-day GTA annual management meeting before her vacation started. The meeting brought in top managers and key field agents to headquarters, to maintain an agency connection. That was fine. Isabel would be there.
She said to him, “We’re going to have our traditional dinner after the meeting, right? I have something I need to talk with you about.”
His phone rang and he glanced at the caller ID. Easton raised the phone to his ear. “Of course. Looking forward to it.”
He put his back to her and barked into the phone, “Easton Hughes here.”
Shane held up his hand in a short wave. “Good work.”
“Thanks.” She’d been dismissed.
Zoe walked to the apartment building one block away where she’d parked her motorcycle and changed before the castle reception. As she reached the apartment’s quiet street, she quickened her pace. She couldn’t wait to get to the hotel and take a long hot shower and crawl into bed. But with tomorrow’s six a.m. flight back home to Chicago, she wouldn’t get much sleep.