INFILTRATING THE SECRET LAIR
ZOE
Sullypulls up to the guard house at the gate of a huge mansion and hands the guard— a dark-haired man in his early forties namedMoss, if his name tag is telling the truth— both of ourIDs. “DirectorofFieldOperationsfor theGlobalIntelligenceDivisionof theCIASullivanReynoldsandIntelligenceOperativeZoeSteelehere to meet withDirectorLancaster.”
Theman accepts ourIDswithout a word, bending over just enough to see me in the passenger seat and to glance in the back seat.Thenhe goes around to the back of our car, probably to check our license plate number, before he heads into the guard house.Itwouldn’t surprise me if we are stopped on top of some device that checks the bottom of our vehicle for explosive or tracking devices.
Myfocus goes from the sign on the gate that reads “LancasterBusinessSolutions,” which is apparently theClandestineServicesAgency’scover business, to thebuilding at the end of a very long, curving, cobblestone drive with meticulously cared for grounds.Thebuilding is a giant mansion.Amansion!Thisplace is supposed to be a top-secret government intelligence agency and it looks like this?
Itprobably has an indoor swimming pool and sauna.Likelya day spa, too.Definitelymore bathrooms than bedrooms, and boasts a wine cellar, a home gym, and tennis courts out back.Isthis a situation where a reclusive billionaire got bored and decided he wanted to hire a crime-fighting team?Arewe going to find aBatmobilein the garage?
Iam definitely not thrilled that we are having this meeting at theCSAinstead of at theCIA.Especiallybecause our lead analyst is apparently already at this building, so they must’ve been doing their work here.Iam the one who recovered that case, notLedger.Thatmeans it’s ours, and we are just sharing.DirectorReynoldsshould’ve fought for us to have the meeting on our home turf.
Mosscomes back to the car and hands ourIDsback. “Headdown the drive and park in front of the building.Goto the front doors— the director is expecting you.”
Sullythanks him and raises his window as the gate opens.Assoon as he starts driving toward the building, he says, “NowIdon’t want to see too many sparks flying between you andLedgerLancasterin here.”
Heknows thatLedgerandIare rivals, so he’s saying it like he’s being funny and sarcastic, expecting a laugh from me.ButIwonder if he’s actually prodding for informationabout the two of us.I’vekind of suspected thatSullyhas a sixth sense about which missions are likely going to haveCSAcrossover, guesses when theCSAis likely to sendLedger, and then sends me on those same missions.Almostlike he’s some kind of matchmaker.Hiscomment makes me suspect it even more.Ineed to make sure he understands that anything betweenLedgerand me is never going to happen. “Womenlike me don’t fall in love.”
“Womenlike you?” he asks, giving me an opportunity to elaborate.Idon’t.Aftera beat, he provides his own guesses. “Doyou mean women who are intelligence operatives?Orwomen who were abandoned as a child?”
Iwince.Ifthat comment came from anyone on this planet other thanSully,I’dprobably deck them.ButneverSully.SoIsay, “Takeyour pick.”Hecould’ve also added “Orwomen who are professional loners?Orwomen who have never actually been in a relationship before because they know they would be terrible at it?Orwomen who have no chance of getting a guy to hang around?”Insteadof saying any of that out loud, though,Ijust say, “Butespecially when it comes toLedger.”
Therewas a time a year and a half ago whenIcompletely underestimatedLedger’simpressive ability to make people feel like he truly cares about them, which made me forget about all those reasons for a minute.Andforgetting led to things ending poorly.Andby “poorly,”Imean akin to a pyromaniac wielding a flame thrower in a field of fireworks.There’sno way that true sparks between us will ever happen again.
Sullyglances in the rearview mirror. “Okay, well, play nice in here.”It’ssomething he’s already told me, but apparently feels the need to reiterate.
Inod. “Butif we go knock on the door and a butler answers, leads us past an indoor bowling alley on our way to a briefing room that doubles as the owner’s home theater, and then sits us down in those padded reclining chairs with cup holders,I’mout of there.”
Hechuckles. “Asmuch as it might look like it, this isn’t a billionaire’s house.Andalthough it’s a fraction of the size ofLangley, it’s much larger than it looks.”
Myhead whips in his direction. “You’vebeen here before?”
“No.Buta long time ago— back whenIwas a field operative and so wasDirectorLancaster— right after she moved from theCIAto theCSA,Iwas on a joint mission with her.Shementioned that there are multiple sub-levels, and that the part underground is much bigger.”
Iturn my focus back at the building, considering it, asIrun my finger and thumb along the chain of my necklace.Sullypulls into one of only five parking stalls.Theother four are empty.Iget out of the car and we walk up to the front door asIask, “Arewe supposed to ring the bell?Knock?”
ButSullyjust opens the door.Avalid choice, even if it doesn’t feel like it at a place like this.
Thelobby is large, cold, and has sharp angles everywhere.There’sa single massive desk in the middle near the back wall, with a few uncomfortable-looking chairs to our right, tucked into a corner.Thisplace is meant to look intimidating.
Asis the receptionist behind the desk.Herhair is in a tight bun, and her black suit is as angled as this room. “MayIhelp you?”
Sullyrepeats our names to her and says that we are here to meetDirectorLancaster, and the woman picks up a phone.Herposture is rigid, her voice professional, and her facial expressions neutral.Butfrom where we’re standing now,Ican see her feet.They’recrossed at the ankles— something she would never do if she wasn’t comfortable, and the foot on top is bouncing up, which tells me she’s happy.Theincongruousness between the more obvious body language that she’s trying to control above the desk and the subtler body language below the desk that she isn’t, the intimidation is all for show.Irespect that.She’sdoing a masterful job.
Amoment later, a door to our right opens, andDirectorLancasterwalks in.She’swearing a knee-length dark gray pencil skirt with a light blue blousy shirt tucked into it.Herhair is pulled into a loose bun that isn’t nearly as severe as the receptionist’s but still looks professional.Thewoman has to be in her late fifties now, and she still looks amazing.
ShegreetsDirectorReynoldsfirst, saying “Hello,Sully.It’sso wonderful to see you again.”Insteadof just shaking his hand, she gives him a hug that’s somehow both friendly and professional, andIcan’t take my eyes off the two of them.Fromhow their feet are both pointing toward one another, to the way their eyes opened more upon seeing each other, to the way their torsos are slightly leaning in toward one another, there is nothingdiscordant.Bothof them genuinely have a lot of respect and admiration for one another.
ThentheEvelynLancaster, director of theClandestineServicesAgency, turns to me and shakes my hand, placing her left hand on the outside of my hand as she does. “ZoeSteele.I’veheard so much about you.It’sgreat to finally meet you in person.”
WhatIwant to do is stare at her in awe.Askher all the questionsI’vehad about her over the years.Tellher that even though she doesn’t know it, she’s been my mentor.Blurtout facts about my favorite missions of hers.Getall tongue-tied about the fact that she knows my name— that she’s heard “so much” about me.
WhatImanage to do— even though her welcome gives me goose bumps and makes my heart feel like it’s got a helium balloon tied to it, lifting it— is stay professional and say, “It’sgreat to meet you in person, too.Thankyou for welcoming us here.”BecauseI’mnothing if not a consummate professional.
Buta big part of me really wants to just ask her to tell me everything.Abouther entire career.
Iwas eight years old whenIdecided that whenIgrew up,Iwas going to be an intelligence operative.Oneof the few timesIwent to a movie theater as a child, we saw one about a female intelligence operative.Shedid so many impressive things in the show, and she was so skilled.Everyonein the theater wasoohing andahhing as much asIwas.
