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Bane stormed out, although his version of storming equated to a purposeful stride. He was always in control. I reacted inappropriately when angered. He hadn’t even raised his voice. But I had learned to detect nuances, and I could tell he’d been hurt by my thoughtless crack about him being an enforcer.
I collapsed onto the sofa. At the White House, I’d accepted surveillance as “normal.” Privacy did not exist. Cameras tracked me everywhere. Scanners recorded every entry and exit. I’d always assumed my office was bugged and my dutiful assistant spied on me. Moles and informants lurked everywhere. Hadn’t I planted some of my own? You couldn’t trust anyone.
Yet, I had come to trust him, and, after making love last night, the revelation he’d been spying on my communications had hit like a major violation.
But these weren’t normal circumstances. The situation wasn’t black and white but clouded in shades of gray. Had I been a hard-core loyalist, I would have blown his cover and the entire C-Force operation. I would have ratted him out to Jodane. He could have been killed. If he hadn’t read my messages, he wouldn’t have known I’d intended to defect.
He had saved my life. If he’d been a real enforcer and not an undercover C-Force cyborg, I’d be dead. If he hadn’t kept tabs on everything by hacking, I’d be dead.
I’m so sorry, Bane.
I scrolled through the messages on my comm device. Nothing indicated my messages hadn’t gone to the intended recipient or that anybody but me had used my device. Bane was good. I’d seen him in action. I’d been standing by his side at the front desk when he hacked in and set up our reservation. Accessing my comm device had probably been child’s play for him. I was damn lucky he was with C-Force! If he’d been an enforcer for real, I wouldn’t have had a chance.
I’d been wrong to lash out at him.
Jodane’s intention to kill me was the true violation. I’d been trapped in a Catch-22. I’d wanted to resign before I got killed, but leaving would hasten my death. I’d seen too much. Besides the political corruption I’d witnessed—the selling of access to the presidency, the creation and dissemination of false accusations of malfeasance and deepfake videos to destroy opponents and rivals—I’d stumbled upon an actual murder by one of her henchmen.
With the assistance of Bane and C-Force, I could finally exit safely. Perhaps, with my help, Jodane could be stopped. The alien sand could be saved. And then I could resume my regular, ordinary, boring life.
I’d been offended when Bane called my life boring. But truly, after the stress of the past couple of years, boring sounded like heaven.
Before I could get to that point, I’d be in C-Force’s protection program for the intermediate future. I wondered how I would earn a living. I assumed C-Force could create fake credentials. Maybe a fake law degree paralleling the one I’d earned? Or would that be too risky? Maybe they’d insist on a completely different occupation.
Maybe I’d write a novel. About a personable, popular young woman-of-the-people senator who rises to the presidency as the most corrupt politician in the history of the country.
The door slid open, and Bane entered, balancing a huge covered tray smelling of bacon.
“I went to one of the restaurants instead of the cantina.” He set the tray on the table. “I’m sorry. I overreacted. Emotions are still strange to me, and they’re hitting me all at once, and I’m not yet adept at managing them.” He raked a hand through his hair.
I shook my head. “It was my fault. I’m sorry. You were doing your job. I shouldn’t have made that crack about you being an enforcer. My temper got the best of me.”
“Technically, I am still an enforcer. I’ve had to intimidate and rough people up to keep my cover.”
“You haven’t killed anyone for Jodane,” I said emphatically.
“No, I haven’t done that.”
I walked over and hugged him.
His arms came around me. “I’m sorry for the things I’ve had to do and may have to do in the future, but sometimes there’s no way around it.”
“I understand. And I apologize now for all the times in the future I’ll get mad.”
“Fair enough.” He smiled against my head. “Let’s eat while it’s hot.”
With flourish, he took the lid off the tray, revealing pancakes and sausage, a veggie omelet, scrambled eggs with bacon and hash browns, a bagel smothered with cream cheese and smoked salmon, a pitcher of orange juice, and a giant cinnamon roll.
“How many people are we expecting? Why did you get so much food?”
“Because one meal wouldn’t serve both of us. Since I’m the sole guest of record, if I keep ordering meals for two, it will look suspicious.”
“So you ordered food for five?” Or six or seven. The portions were huge.
“I told them I had a big appetite, it all sounded good, and I couldn’t choose. They’re accustomed to excesses by VIP guests.”
He’d been thinking two steps ahead.
“Would you like coffee?” I moved to the machine at the bar.
“That sounds good.”
My lips twitched. “How many cups?”
He chuckled. “One to start.”
The machine brewed a mug for each of us, and I carried them to the table and took a seat. “How long will we be staying?”
“Barring another storm, we’ll leave this afternoon. Take your pick.” He motioned at the buffet.
I coveted the cinnamon roll, but white flour and sugar went right to my hips. Now that I had a good chance of surviving beyond Jodane’s term in office, I should take better care of myself. I reached for the vegetable omelet. “And we’ll be getting out of here how?”
“Quint has dispatched an RTC to replace the one I blew up. That’s another reason why we’ll stay until the afternoon. It will take that long for it to get here.” He opted for pancakes and sausage.
I snagged a few strips of bacon from another plate. Since I was going to live, it wouldn’t hurt to celebrate a little. I hadn’t realized until now how much the threat of doom had affected me. My life had been like the nightmare where you’re being chased, the assailant is gaining on you, and, just as they’re about to overtake you, you wake up. In my case, the nightmare had been real. I was going to wake up all right—wake up dead.
We began to eat.
“You’re very efficient. Always thinking two steps ahead,” I commented.
“Training,” he said. “You learn to anticipate what can go wrong and to plan for it. And then the unexpected happens, and your plans fly out the window.”
“Were you ever a bodyguard like Axel Vander and Tack Grayson?”
He shook his head. “Usually it’s high-profile clients who require protection, so the bodyguards themselves get a lot of visibility. If your face becomes known, you can’t work in clandestine operations.”
“Which one is the most dangerous?” I asked. “Being a bodyguard or working undercover?”
“Both are dangerous for different reasons. A bodyguard draws more open fire than someone in covert ops. In protecting someone who has been targeted, the bodyguard becomes the target. To get to the client, the assassin has to go through the bodyguard.
“Undercover, you’re not a target until something goes wrong—but then you’re on your own in enemy territory.”
On your own in enemy territory pretty much described working for Kathryn Jodane.
“I don’t just gather information to complete my C-Force mission, I collect info to avoid problems and maintain my cover.” He looked at me. “There’s one thing I wasn’t able to figure out about you.”
“Really? Just one?”
“You were a damn good corporate liaison. Jodane was fortunate to have you. You negotiated extremely favorable deals for her. You got blindsided by the SEW Solutions snafu, but she’d already gotten suspicious of you before that happened. Do you have any idea why she would want you dead?”
“Textbook case of wrong place, wrong time.” I pushed the food around on my plate. “I stumbled across something I shouldn’t have.”
Ice-blue eyes sharpened. “And what was that?”
“A body.”
“Whose?”
“A member of the MORE Board of Directors—the one whose board seat was later claimed by Sandra Jodane.”
“Ah. So he didn’t die of cardiac arrest aboard his yacht as the media reported.”
“No, he was found on his yacht after seemingly suffering a fatal heart attack,” I explained.
“Tell me everything from the beginning. Don’t leave anything out.”
“A few months into my stint, I organized a dinner reception for corporate donors at a hotel. Before the event started, I went to get some vid of the dining hall setup. On my way into the hall, I passed a hotel staff member—who I would discover was an enforcer when I encountered him later at the White House. Anyway, I was recording in the dining hall, panning the room, when I spotted the body on the floor. I stopped the vid and called for help.”
“A cleanup crew arrived instead,” Bane stated.
“Yes. They confiscated my comm device and wiped the memory.” In hindsight, it amazed me how calm I had been, but the lack of panic had originated from ignorance. I hadn’t yet comprehended the danger I was in, that I could have ended up as another body on the floor.
“Then they took me into custody, and I became acquainted with Jodane’s henchmen for the first time. The enforcers detained me for hours then made me an offer I couldn’t refuse—say nothing to anybody about anything.”
He covered my hand and squeezed. “Jesus. You got lucky. You might have just disappeared.”
“Yeah. I think it was more timing than luck. I’d organized the event and been seen by a lot of people, a variety of people: hotel staff, corporate heads, outside vendors. For two individuals connected to the same event to turn up dead at the same time might have pushed credibility too far. Plus, I’d had open negotiations with significant corporate donors. So, I figure she needed me around a little while longer anyway. The next day, the MORE director whose body I’d found vid-messaged the company, resigning his seat on the board and announcing he was going sailing around the world.”
“A deepfake video,” he guessed.
“Yes. Three days later, the Coast Guard, responding to a mayday in the middle of the Atlantic, found him dead on the boat.”
“When you discovered the body, what did you notice? Wounds? Markings? Blood?”
“Nothing, other than he was dead. No blood. No obvious wounds. He was still warm though. I checked for a pulse and respiration before I called for help.”
“Who determined the official cause of death?”
“The medical examiner.”
“A blast from a cardiac-disruptor would stop his heart,” Bane said. “But the timing wouldn’t add up. A medical examiner wouldn’t be fooled. The state of decomposition would show the man died days before the mayday call. So the ME falsified the death certificate. He was either in on the homicide, or he was threatened into silence,” he said. “I’ll have Quint assign someone to hunt down the ME.”
“He’s dead, too. Got killed a few months later in a robbery”—I let out a breath—“that was no robbery, I’d bet.” I clapped a hand over my mouth. Until now, I hadn’t connected the dots. “How did I survive this long? I’m not that lucky.”
He pressed his lips together grimly. “No, you’re not. You’re alive because Jodane sicced me on you instead of sending another enforcer. I did what I could to alleviate her suspicions and steer her away from you, but I knew I couldn’t prevent the kill-order forever. She didn’t trust you. I never could figure out why. Now I know.”
“What would you have done if she’d ordered you to kill me sooner?”
“Without knowing where your loyalties lay, I would have staged your death, but you would have been taken into protective custody and placed under house arrest to prevent you from blowing my cover.”
I shuddered at the imminent danger I’d been in. It had been worse than I’d feared. Only the luck of the draw—getting Bane instead of another enforcer—had saved me. I survived because of him. “With the ME dead, I’m the only one who knows the MORE board member didn’t die on the boat. Also, I saw the enforcer outside the hall, which links the death to the president. It’s only circumstantial that he’s responsible, but I can prove the body was moved and the director didn’t die when they said he did. And then Sandra got the guy’s seat—”
“What do you mean you can prove it?”
“The video I took.”
“They wiped your device, you said.”
“Before the cleanup crew took me into custody, I’d forwarded a copy of the vid to my private account. POP—personal operating procedure—I back up everything important. I thought I was protecting evidence. I’d assumed the first responders would be from hotel security or the local police. The dead director was a VIP, a huge corporate donor. And he died on my watch. I worried the locals might botch the investigation. I never considered there wouldn’t be an investigation.”
A slow smile spread over Bane’s face. “You still have the video?”
“Yes. After they released me, I copied the vid to three microchips then deleted it from my personal account. One copy I sealed in a pouch and forwarded to my attorney to be opened in the event of my death. I stashed a second in a safe deposit box.”
“And the third?”
I pushed away from the table and extracted my White House ID badge from my bag. The front had my photo, security clearance level, and ID number. “I won’t need this since I won’t be working at the White House anymore. Here you go.” I handed the badge to him and pointed out the tiny dot secured to the back. “This will be more secure with you anyway.”
His eyes widened. “You kept the video on your ID badge?”
“They could search my condo, break into my safe deposit box, raid my attorney’s office, but I gambled they wouldn’t look right under their noses and search something they had given me.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “Are you sure you’re not on the C-Force payroll?”
“Wish I had been.” Any career move would have been better than what I’d chosen.
I’d only finished half my omelet, but I was full. However, there was always room for bacon. I crunched a cold but crispy piece. “More coffee?”
“Yes, thank you.”
While I brewed two more cups, Bane took my badge and disappeared into the bedroom. I heard him opening and closing a cabinet.
He returned. I grabbed our mugs, and we took our seats.
He sipped his coffee. “C-Force will examine the video and figure out what to do.”
“I’m glad the video is in your capable hands now.” The tiny speck had weighed heavily on my mind. Relinquishing the evidence to somebody better able to safeguard it, to do something with it brought huge relief. Despite my bravado, I’d been terrified I’d be caught with it. “What about the other copies? I assume you want them.”
“Definitely. C-Force will retrieve them. We have to because, when your death is announced, your attorney will open the pouch. I’ve already shot a message to Quint. He’s taking care of it.”
“C-Force can get into my safe deposit box? My attorney’s off—of course, you can.” It was a little scary what C-Force could do. I’d witnessed firsthand how power could corrupt. However, C-Force’s reach was reassuring, too. The organization was the sole force in the galaxy with the might to stop Kathryn Jodane. However, bringing her to justice wouldn’t happen overnight.
Hence, it would be years before my life returned to pre-Jodane normal. For the interim, I much preferred limbo over imminent death. “So, what happens next? When we leave this way station, we go back to...Città?” I assumed he had a plan.
He nodded. “You’ll stay in a Città safe house while we establish your new identity. Quint will interview you. You’ve offered your services to Geo-Tech, and Breeze wishes to discuss it. Both of them will come to you. Anything you need will be brought to you. You’ll have to remain out of sight.”
It sounded a lot like house arrest, and meeting with the intimidating head of C-Force stirred some trepidation, but I accepted it had to be this way.
“Once you’ve received a new identity, you’ll be moved to another city, maybe Miestas or Cuidad. You’ll have a little more freedom there,” he said.
“And what about you?”
“My original assignment resumes. I’ll go back to the White House as an enforcer.”
Of course. He still had to collect evidence on the president. Once, I’d prayed for him to go away and leave me alone. Wish granted. “Will I ever see you again?”
Regret flickered as he shook his head. “If Jodane is neutralized and it’s safe for you to come out of hiding...but, for the intermediate future, I must maintain my cover, and you have to maintain yours. For obvious reasons, I can’t be your bodyguard, but someone from C-Force will be assigned to you.”
I wet my lips. “W-when will you leave for Earth?”
“Tomorrow.”
“So soon?” A sharp pain panged my chest.
“Jodane will receive confirmation of your death today, and she’ll demand my return.”
Being dead solved a lot of my problems, but right now it sucked. I understood why he had to go, but I hated it. “I wish you didn’t have to leave.” I clenched a fist.
“I wish that, too.” He covered my hand.
Our fingers threaded. I clung to the optimistic notion justice would prevail and Jodane would get what she deserved, but the political situation would worsen before it improved. Corruption accounted for only one part of the equation. Once news about the alien spread, the furor unleashed would make a sandstorm seem like a gentle breeze.
“We really have to leave this afternoon?” I pleaded.
He nodded. “Too many people come and go at a way station for it to be secure. Besides, I have to hand your vid over to Quint.”
And when we got to Città, that might be the last time I saw him. “But we have a few hours here.”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s make them count.”
