Free Fall (3 page)

Before that moment came, I’d need to make a decision. I had to decide how I was going to stay alive.

Something in Mark’s evasive manner made me wonder what the two of them had been talking about before I came in. There were ways of getting information out of even the most dedicated opponents. The Agency’s own Stevie Rodriguez came from a military background. He’d cut his teeth on this sort of thing during the first Gulf War.

“Are you sure? Because he definitely appeared to be someone of interest. I’m thinking possibly someone high up in the ranks of the FLA.”

Another curious exchange between them had me wondering what they weren’t telling me.

“Did you at least learn his identity?” I asked incredulously.

Mark hesitated so long that I wondered if he’d even answer the question. “His name is Doren Alderees, but I’m afraid he’s a dead end.”

“A dead end? Are you sure?”

“I’m positive. Geez, Rainie. Let it go.” I stared at him in shock and wondered why he was being so defensive. After another minute passed, Mark tried to make amends. “If you’re feeling up to it, I’d like to ask you some routine questions about last night, just for the record.”

Mark seemed a little too anxious to shift the conversation away from Doren Alderees. I wasn’t buying his explanation for a minute.

“All right.” Suddenly, I felt nervous. I wiped my hands across the knees of my jeans, then regretted it. Roc would spot this gesture in a second and know exactly what it meant. After almost three years of marriage, he could interpret every single one of my signals by heart. I glanced his way and knew he’d seen it, but for the time being he chose not to question me.

“Why were you in that particular part of the city again?” Mark had begun flipping through his notes and glanced up when I didn’t answer right away.

“I’ve already told Roc I didn’t have a particular reason. I was simply doing some shopping and enjoying the nice weather.”

Mark nodded, but Roc knew the truth. I wasn’t a shopper. In fact, I hated it. I did all of my Christmas shopping online last year.

“So when did you first become aware of the man following you? Was it before you reached Wisconsin Avenue?”

“Actually, I’d spotted him once before, but dismissed the incident until last night.”

“Wait, you spotted him before and didn’t mention it?” Roc demanded.

My gaze ping-ponged between Roc and Mark. “Yes. He didn’t appear to be a threat at the time. I guess I wasn’t really concerned about him.”

With what appeared to be some effort, Roc managed to keep his opinion to himself.

“What have you found out about Doren’s background?” I decided it was time to turn the tables. My question made Mark uncomfortable. He shot Roc a look. Another beat passed before Roc took the lead.

“Rainie, he isn’t FLA.”

They weren’t sharing everything. I could see it in the way neither wanted to make eye contact with me. “You’re kidding, right? Of course he’s FLA.”

“No, he’s not. You’re mistaken on this one, Rainie. He’s innocent.” Roc’s tone discouraged argument. He was speaking as my commander now. This wasn’t personal any longer.

“I’m not mistaken. I’m certain of it. Let me talk to him.”

“You can’t. We had to release him this morning.”

I blew out a put-upon sigh and shook my head, not bothering to disguise my disbelief.

“We had nothing to hold him on. He’s innocent, Rainie,” Roc repeated.

“I don’t believe that for a minute.”

“He claims to have met you at one of those fundraisers you’re always so fond of attending.” Roc’s gaze narrowed. Did he actually believe I knew this man and was keeping it from him?

“If I’d met him before last night, I would have remembered him.”

Roc raised an eyebrow at this. “The guy’s story checked out. Right down to the name of the fundraiser. I remembered it. You were definitely there.”

Mark cleared his throat. He’d picked up on the tension between Roc and myself. “He said he recognized you last night and so he followed you. Probably was hoping to get your number.”

“That’s preposterous. I’ve been doing this long enough to know when someone is trying to hit on me and when he’s trouble. This guy is definitely trouble.”

“You don’t have to get defensive. I’m only telling you what we know,” Mark said.

The caution that entered Roc’s expression warned me to watch what I said next.

While Mark and Roc were good friends, they disagreed on many things. One was in allowing women to be a part of The Agency in the first place. As an elite division within the FBI, Mark didn’t like the idea of having women part of the team. You see, Mark was very old-fashioned. He still saw a woman’s role in the FBI as strictly administrative. He’d accepted Lissa, the only other female member of our group, because she was Ed’s daughter and he didn’t really have a choice in the matter, but when I’d come on board, Mark took one look at me and figured dumb blonde. It took me almost all three years with The Agency just to win the small amount of respect I’d managed to gain from him.

Roc had told me he and Mark argued over our relationship a great deal in the beginning. Mark didn’t believe in mixing business with pleasure. He was probably right.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. It’s just that, well, this whole thing has me spooked.”

“I can only imagine.” With this typical Mark comment, he dismissed my fears and me entirely.

“What about his accent?” I insisted, not able to let it go. “Doren had a very distinct Middle Eastern accent.”

Mark started to answer, but Roc held up a hand to silence him. “Rainie, he’s clear. Let it go. He lived in Riyadh for a while, which explains the accent. His stepfather was with the diplomatic service there.”

“He’s not Saudi.” I wasn’t sure why I was so determined to argue with Roc, but I suspected it had nothing to do with Doren Alderees.

“His mother is American. We checked him out very thoroughly. He’s clean. He’s not FLA. He’s not even a terrorist. He’s just someone who ran into you once before and now he has the hots for you.”

When Mark had taken a breath his sarcasm was easy to read. “Unless he continues stalking you, as far as I know, being smitten with someone isn’t a crime yet.”

“You’re kidding, right? Roc, surely you don’t agree.” I turned to my husband, hoping for once, he’d back me over Mark.

“I’m sorry, Rainie, but I do. I’ll admit it’s odd, but this man is clean. There’s nothing we can hold him on. Think about what you’re suggesting for a second. The one thing we’ve always been certain of is that the FLA would never consider letting an outsider become part of their inner circle of members.” Roc’s argument would have been more convincing if he’d been able to make eye contact with me.

This was the one chink I’d found in his armor through the years. Whenever Roc couldn’t look me in the eye, he was lying.

Stevie walked in before I could get the next question out. He glanced around at each of us and obviously picked up on the tension sparking around the room. “What’s up?” he asked.

We were saved the need of answering when Roc’s cell phone rang. He left the room to take the call.
More secrets
. “Stevie, have you picked up any unusual activity happening recently regarding this man?” I asked because the whole thing with this Doren person didn’t add up in my mind.

Stevie shook his head. “No, nothing, Rainie. He’s new to me.”

Roc re-entered the room, the expression in his eyes grim. “Mark, we need to leave.”

“What about me? I can help with this investigation.”

“Rainie, you’re too close to this. I need you to stand down and let us handle it.”

“You don’t trust me to do my job.” It hurt to think I was being shut out.

“Of course I do. But we have procedure to follow. I’m sorry. You can’t be involved in this.”

“Roc…”

“Damn it, Rainie, will you just listen to me for once? I’m not your enemy, you know.”

“I know that.” It was hard to speak without showing him how close to tears I was. I didn’t understand what was happening to us. The anger in his voice was hard to take. Roc ran a frustrated hand through his dark, collar-length hair before turning to Mark.

“Can you give us a second?” he asked quietly. Mark nodded, then left the room without another word.

Roc waited as the front door closed behind Mark. Still, it was a long time before he finally turned to me.

When he looked at me again so much raw emotion filled his eyes. My only thought was to comfort him.

I rushed to his side, fear contracting my heart. “What is it?” I asked, touching his face softly.

“I wish I could make you understand how much I don’t want to lose you, Rainie.”

“I do understand. I’m sorry I worried you last night.”

He shook his head and ran a finger across my parted lips. “That’s not what I meant. I’m talking about losing you. Letting you go.”

I closed my eyes and wished I could deny his fears, but Roc knew how desperate I was to get out. We both knew what that meant. I feared someday I would be forced to choose between my husband and my future. Until this moment I never fully appreciated how difficult my decision to leave The Agency would be on Roc. Because of the type of work we did, my life would be in danger if he were still part of The Agency. Our enemies were many. They could use me to get to him.

Of course, I’d known the risks going in just as I knew them now. So why did I think I could simply walk away from it all? Because I was sick to death of the work we did.

I loved Roc. I didn’t want to live without him in my life; I wanted to grow old with him.

Unfortunately, the chances of us ever living out my fantasy were next to none for dozens or more reasons. One of which was that we never knew if our next assignment might turn out to be our last. The likelihood of either of us living to a ripe old age was slim.

So I accepted our life together for the moments we could find alone and I was content. Or so I thought. Until recently.

“I’m sorry.” This wasn’t the answer he needed to hear from me.

“I know.” He touched my face, then brushed a curl away from my eyes. “Will you be here when I get back?” I hated that every time we parted, Roc believed this might be our last time together. He believed one day I’d disappear into the shadowy world in which we worked and he might never see me again.

“No. But I will be at my apartment.” I smiled at the heartbreaking relief flooding his face. “I’m not going anywhere today, Roc.”

He leaned in close and kissed my lips, holding my gaze as if searching for some reassurances. I couldn’t give them to him. After a moment, he shook his head and without another word, left me alone.

* * * *

The first thing I did when I returned to my apartment was replay the message on my answering machine.

“Rainie, it’s Justin…I need to see you tonight. Please, Rainie. It’s important.” Even after last night’s disaster, those simple words had the power to fill me with hope. As much as I needed to believe Justin might still be alive though, I couldn’t allow myself to trust that he was real.

When the first call came, I thought it was just a prank. After all, I’d only been a child when Justin, then seventeen, disappeared. I had no idea what he might sound like today or even if he were still alive. But when the calls from my brother had continued, I began to fear the worst—that someone from the FLA had somehow discovered my connection to The Agency and this was just a ploy to draw me out of my comfort zone. If captured by the FLA, I’d be subjected to horrific means of torture to try and gain information.

Then I’d caught a glimpse of someone watching my apartment. Someone who bore a striking resemblance to my brother and I wondered if maybe it were possible Justin might still be alive.

Within a matter of days, we’d received our first clear pictures in years of the terrorist known as Jeremiah Silvers—the FBI’s number one suspect in numerous terrorist attacks in the U.S. The man in those pictures could be the same person I’d spotted outside my apartment building.

There was a very real chance my brother was now my enemy.

I couldn’t share my fears with anyone—not even my husband.

The Bureau hadn’t been able to make a single charge against Silvers stick. We couldn’t prove any of the allegations against him because he was good at making witnesses disappear.

All known intelligence reports pointed to Jeremiah Silvers being the actual man in charge of the FLA.

The Agency had been searching for years for some way to infiltrate the FLA, to no avail.

I’d memorized Jeremiah Silvers’ crimes, and yet in spite of all the evidence which seemed to indicate otherwise, I still didn’t want to believe my brother could be that monster.

I was determined to prove all of those reports wrong because there was no way the boy I’d loved so dearly all those years ago could have become such a cold-blooded killer.

“Hey, it’s me. Are you there?” Roc’s husky voice drifted into my living room, reminding me of all the things I loved about him. I knew every pitch. Every enunciation. Every intonation. And the edge to it now told me something big had happened.

I prayed this wouldn’t mean yet another assignment abroad. In light of what I’d uncovered recently and with the current unstable environment overseas, I wanted Roc close to me.

I grabbed the receiver. “Yes, I’m here. What’s wrong?”

“I can’t discuss it now. Your line may not be secure. We’re meeting tonight, okay? You know where. Don’t be late, Rainie. And for God’s sake, don’t pull another stunt like last night. I’m not sure my heart can survive another one, especially not with all the uneasiness going around.”

Two weeks earlier, I’d been busily reading through the latest chatter streaming across a website innocently entitled ‘Free America.’

The website initially came to The Agency’s attention when someone on the site referred to recent attacks believed to be associated with the FLA.

This was what we did best. The Agency had been established as part of our government’s response to attacks of terrorism against its own citizens.

Each member of our team had been recruited for our various talents to head up our areas of expertise. We had all the resources of the Bureau at our disposal. We could deploy agents anywhere within U.S. borders at a second’s notice if necessary.