Lethal Affairs (6 page)

Now and then she would drift close and whisper some amusing or racy observation about one of the other guests, her breath warm against Domino’s neck, and each time she did, she also touched some part of her—her arm, her back, her waist, always with fingertips tracing a light but deliberate path—the first teasing touches of foreplay.
Domino smiled to herself at how easy she was finding this assignment. It took no effort to charm Hayley Ward. When the songs changed, Domino didn’t attempt to part company and end the flirtation. She simply fell into another kind of rhythm and they danced on.
The fifth song was a slow number, and as soon as it commenced, Hayley moved into her arms with an audible sigh, as though it was exactly the one she’d been waiting for. Domino was uncharacteristically content in the embrace, allowing herself a moment to forget why she was there. She could fully relish Hayley’s arms around her neck, the feel of hands playing in her hair, the press of their bodies. Something about this whole situation was different. She was enjoying herself too much to care why Pierce had brought her here. “I might have to restate my earlier quote,” she said softly, very close to Hayley’s ear. “An artist’s dream is to hold inspiration in her arms.”
She had been well schooled in this kind of charming social repartee. But it felt less forced and artificial than usual. She encircled Hayley’s waist, and a twinge shot through her groin when she touched the warm, soft skin exposed by the low scoop back of Hayley’s dress. She was so immersed in the sensations, she barely registered Cameo’s hand on her shoulder.
“Sorry to interrupt, ladies,” Cameo said with a smile, as they parted slightly to acknowledge her. “I wanted to say I enjoyed meeting both of you, but I have to call it an evening.”
Pierce deliberately but discreetly moved into Domino’s line of sight behind Hayley, as she and Cameo exchanged polite good-byes. With an almost imperceptible nod and tilt of his head, he signaled that Domino had done well and should also make her exit.
Damn.
Cameo left, and Domino allowed herself the rest of the song in Hayley’s embrace. The night was ending much too soon, but at least she would soon learn what this was about.
The next song began, another slow one, but as much as she was enjoying this mating game, she knew Pierce would be waiting. She loosened her grip around Hayley’s waist and led her off the dance floor. “I wish I could stay, Hayley, but I need to leave too. I have another appointment tonight, and I’m already a bit late.”
Hayley’s face registered her surprise and she stuck out her lower lip. “Now that’s an awful shame. Sure you can’t reschedule?” She planted a soft kiss on Domino’s neck before whispering provocatively in her ear, “Come back to my place? I’ll make it worth your while.”
“I’d love to, and I’m sure you would.” Domino gave her a naughty smile. “But it’s out of my hands.”
Hayley sighed, admitting defeat. “Then at least tell me you’ll call me. I’d like to hear why you prefer churches and cathedrals.”
“What’s your number?” Domino had no idea whether she’d be able to comply with the request—that would depend on Pierce. But she hoped whatever the reason behind this evening’s intrigue, she could reconnect with Hayley.
Hayley cocked her head and paused a beat, as though waiting for Domino to pull out a cell phone, or paper and pen. “Aren’t you going to write it down?”
“It’s not necessary.” Domino smiled at her reassuringly, and Hayley recited her number.
Then, before she could go, Hayley took her hand, as though to make sure she had Domino’s full attention. “Call me.”
Domino nodded. “How could I not?”
Pierce was outside, waiting for her, far enough away no one would see or overhear them. They walked a few steps in silence,
“That went well,” he said. “Miss Ward is obviously taken with you.”
“Apparently,” Domino replied. “What’s going on? What was tonight about, and where’s Cameo?”
“She’s waiting in the car. Did Miss Ward mention anything of interest?”
“That depends on what you consider interesting. She said she’s a journalist with crummy assignments.”
“Anything else?” he pressed.
“She mentioned she prefers what she referred to as political and investigative stuff. That she does it on her own time.”
“Is she investigating anything at the moment?”
“Didn’t say.” Domino felt impatient. “What’s going on? Why all this interest in an insignificant reporter? Besides, you could have gotten all this from Cameo. This is her assignment, after all, and why are you even here tonight?”
“I recently received word on the missing tape,” Pierce replied. “Whoever bribed the cop at the Miami PD had him send it to this particular insignificant reporter. I’m here to make sure this assignment goes to the right op.”
“Hayley Ward has the tape?” A strange, sick feeling invaded her stomach. “I see.”
“Yes. That much has been confirmed. But we don’t know why they chose her.”
“All this was about finding out if she would recognize me from that tape,” she said.
“Correct.”
“We apparently don’t have to worry about that.” Part of her was relieved Hayley hadn’t recognized her. But another part knew there was more to come, something Pierce wasn’t telling her. “What’s going to happen to Miss Ward? How will Cameo proceed?” She knew better than to ask about another op’s assignment, and she fully expected Pierce to tell her so. But she couldn’t help herself.
“She won’t. I’ve pulled her off this job.” He took her by the arm and steered her toward the waiting limo, as though ending the debrief.
But when they reached the car, he faced her. “Miss Ward is your target, Domino.”
The strange feeling in her stomach worsened. “Then why did you—”
“We’ll discuss details tomorrow,” he said, opening the door to prevent further inquiries. “I’ll be staying at my residence here until further notice.” He slipped into the seat beside Cameo, but Domino paused, staring back at the hotel.

ayley couldn’t remember when she had been so unable to concentrate on a hot story or had enjoyed someone’s company so thoroughly. She kept staring at the phone, willing it to ring and cursing herself for not asking for Luka’s number or even her last name
.

Of course
soon
didn’t necessarily mean before ten the next morning, she told herself, especially since it was a Saturday, when most ordinary working folk slept in, or went to the market, or took their dogs to the park. And Luka had left her for another appointment…or was it a date?

Hayley freely admitted that impatience was one of her biggest flaws, though it kept her motivated when she was pursuing a story. Even when that story appeared to be a dead end, which the tape appeared to be, so far.

She had viewed it numerous times and still couldn’t make out anything about the woman who had killed Guerrero and the others. She also hadn’t been able to find any trace of this Elite Operatives Organization, and she continued to wonder who had sent her the tape. She absently stirred her coffee, frustrated that she had nothing useful.

The LexisNexis database of public records, court cases, and news stories had provided leads before, and she hoped it might do the same this time. She researched similar cases—other unsolved political murders and any involving professional assassins—sorting through the seemingly endless list of possibilities. So far, every call she made had wasted time and long-distance charges.

But the tedious chores would help keep her from going crazy as she waited for Luka to phone, so she returned to her list, and after two hours of scanning old Associated Press files, she found one that looked promising. An AP reporter based in Seattle had done a story on killersfor-hire more than a year earlier and might have some insights that could help her.

She glanced at the clock as she searched online for the man’s home phone number. Only a little after seven on the West Coast, probably too early to call. Not everyone could survive on three or four hours’ sleep like she did. She’d wait another hour, then try him on her land line. She wanted to keep her cell phone free, since she’d given that number to her intriguing dance partner.

Domino left for Pierce’s small ranch home in suburban Arlington when he summoned her the morning after the benefit. Because she was based in Washington, she’d been there a number of times.

“I don’t think I need to tell you how unprofessional last night was,” she said without preamble.
“Good morning,” he said calmly, motioning for her to sit on the couch. He had forgone his usual suit for slacks and a polo shirt, but hadn’t relaxed his paranoia for secrecy. All the blinds were drawn, as they always were in his office at school when he spoke to an operative.
“Why aren’t you following protocol in this case?” She made no effort to disguise how unacceptable she found the situation.
“Remember who you’re talking to,” he said, more forcefully.
But she was determined. “I know damn well who I’m talking to. You sent me in there absolutely blind, when you knew she might recognize me. She’s probably watched that tape a million times.”
“I have my reasons, and I reassigned you on-site. You went in knowing everything you needed to know.”
“I didn’t know who to look out for, Monty. Now she knows my real name. I’ve been compromised, which makes this assignment way out of bounds. Perhaps you should do the remembering.”
“I didn’t intend for it to go like this,” he said, with a friendlier tone. “But her apparent interest in you will help speed up this operation. You do realize the severity of this situation, don’t you?”
“Of course I do. But severe or not, protocol is there for a reason. I should’ve been briefed. And I should have had a chance to objectify my target. Besides, we had a couple of dances, that’s all. You’re making more of it than it was.”
“I can tell the difference between casual conversation and real interest. She’s a potential threat, Domino, and that’s all that matters. This is an assignment, an important one, so you’ll do whatever it takes. Now, let’s get down to business. This will be Operation Eclipse, and Miss Ward’s code name will be Strike. We need you to get close, find out what she knows—who actually sent her the tape, and who she’s shared this information with.”
“Do we have any proof of her complicity?”
“It’s hard to believe someone randomly chose her,” Pierce said. “That’s why you’re to extract the information we need and find out who else is involved.” He was watching closely for her reaction. “Because of your compromised situation, someone else will eliminate her, if necessary.”
“When do I start?”
“As soon as possible.” He pulled a file from his desk and tossed it in front of her, then sat back and folded his arms over his chest. “Strike’s details. Find a way to contact her. I’m sure she won’t object. Her number’s in there—it’s also in the phone book, if she wants to know where you got it.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Domino said. “Ironically, my target gave me her number personally.”

omino stood before the large picture windows of her condo, all but oblivious to the lights of Washington and the smells of a barbecue wafting in on the breeze through the open balcony door. Her mind was entirely on Hayley.
Not Hayley
—Strike
. The target. Objectify her. You have to.

But she found it more difficult than she imagined after having spent the evening before thoroughly engaged by Hayley and the last several hours memorizing her file.

She returned to the couch behind her and sank into the cushions. When she thought of Hayley, she didn’t see the four-by-six photo from the file. She recalled the candlelit Hayley laughing across the table, or the Hayley on the dance floor looking at her with such flirtatious, open interest—not the flat and unsmiling version who had posed for a driver’s license photo two years earlier, her dimples undetectable.

Domino had needed to get personal with a target before and had done so successfully. But this was different, not only because she’d gone in unprepared, but also because Hayley was somehow different. Perhaps her unpretentious approach to life had appealed to Domino, but her easy, untainted manner had certainly been contagious. Even if only briefly, she had realized what it must be like to be unguarded without facing possible repercussions. Hayley was different because she made Domino feel free.

She stared out into the night.
So damn free.
The familiar whup whup whup of a distant helicopter, probably medevac or military, invaded her consciousness and grew louder as it neared. Then she saw it, its white and red lights passing almost directly overhead, and its sight and sound transported her to another place, three years earlier.

Domino ran through the rain forest of Gunung Leuser in northern Sumatra, trying to hide under the thick jungle canopy of trees, rifle strapped on her back, pursued from above and behind. Darting behind a massive kauri tree that stretched a hundred feet into the sky, she paused to catch her breath. The heat and humidity made her feel as though she was breathing water instead of air.

The sound of the pursuing helicopter neared, and the shooting resumed, coming closer. Her lungs protesting the too-short respite, she started running again toward Binjai, the nearest village, hoping for somewhere to hide.

They’d said the operation would be simple. Get into Indonesia and take down Eric Hudson, a man responsible for exploiting the poor and underprivileged. He promised them a new beginning and a better life in America. But after they boarded his ships, he sold the men to other countries as slaves and the women and children into prostitution. Those who didn’t survive the trip found a more merciful end at the bottom of the Indian Ocean.

He had to be stopped, they said. It was a noble cause. But they didn’t tell her how many were involved, how toppling Hudson would throw the entire Indonesian underworld into an uproar.

She had to get close, go in as a buyer, find out how many were involved, and ask for backup if necessary. And she got very close. She saw for herself how the poor people of the region were treated. Saw the buyers take women and children away, witnessed the hell their lives became.

The experience motivated her. She got close to Hudson and earned his trust. He shared information with her and introduced her to some of the other key players, Americans, Europeans, Asians—all sick, ruthless bastards.