43 |

Baghdad International Airport
Baghdad, Iraq

 

CIA Agent Sherrie White rested her eyes as she rehearsed her cover. It was one she had used before, and if all went well, she’d use on many more occasions. After all, the best cover was well-practiced, and one no one suspected was a cover at all.

And she certainly fit the bill.

Today, she was Claire Masters, an event manager for the truly rich and powerful, those who wanted to throw a party talked about for years, not just until the next one came along.

Yachts, hotels, casinos, venues, landmarks. She could arrange it all, sometimes with a little help from her CIA backers.

Today, she was to meet with a Russian oligarch on the outs with Moscow, who might just have a server loaded with data the CIA desperately wanted. Her job wasn’t to steal it, her job was to arrange the party where one of the guests, on the CIA’s payroll, would. If she stole it, and it was discovered after the fact, there would be little doubt who did it. But have it stolen when hundreds of guests and staff were in the house?

They’d never know who did it, and her cover would remain intact.

Her phone vibrated and she opened her eyes, the innocuous number one that belonged to Langley. She swiped her thumb as she rose from her seat.

“Are you secure?”

She suppressed a smile at Leroux’s voice. “Enough to listen.”

“Change of plans. We need you in Dubai ASAP.”

“What about my current plans?”

“We’re having your flight canceled due to mechanical issues. You won’t be able to reschedule until tomorrow.”

Sherrie smiled slightly as the board to her right changed, the passengers she had been sitting with groaning in frustration. “You’re an evil man.”

“Never get on my bad side.”

“Who’s heading to Dubai?”

“Check your two-o’clock. Woman with a matching purse.”

Sherrie casually glanced to her right, spotting a woman approaching with the exact same $4000 red Fendi Peekaboo Mini purse as she had. “Got her.”

“Exchange purses. Her name is Gina, you’re old friends.”

The woman smiled. “Of all the places to see you again!”

Sherrie threw her arms open. “My God, Gina, is that you?”

Gina hurried over and gave her a one-armed hug, the other holding her purse pushed against Sherrie’s stomach where her own purse rested. The exchange was made while bodies were pressed together, a move rehearsed a thousand times during her training.

“I wish I could talk, but I have a flight to catch,” said Gina, already pulling away. “Call me when you’re in New York.”

Sherrie waved. “You can count on it.” She held the phone to her ear. “Done.”

“Good. When you arrive in Dubai, you’ll be met by local contacts. Be prepared for anything.”

Sherrie smiled. “I’m always prepared, baby.”