Virtually Hers (9 page)

She pushed the interior door open, dark eyes sparkling, lips curled in a temper, all glorious raging Valkyrie.

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” she paused long enough to announce, then stalked over and swung a fist at Jed.

He chose not to avoid it, only taking one step back and putting just enough distance to make sure the hit didn’t break his jaw. After what he’d done to her, he owed her.

Helen shook her hand, her shoulder stinging from the direct punch. Ouch. She hadn’t expected him to stay put like that.

All eyes were on her, of course. Couldn’t be helped. She was that pissed and this couldn’t wait. She looked at the man standing in front of her. Damn him. He wasn’t even rubbing his jaw, even though she’d decked him good. She could see a slight swelling starting up already.

She looked around again and casually shrugged. They all probably knew why she’d hit Jed McNeil, and if they didn’t, they would guess soon enough. Undoubtedly, they all had the same skills to seduce—she determinedly pushed away those thoughts and pulled out a chair.

“Sorry, please do continue.” She clenched and unclenched her slightly numbed hand. Damn, that hurt. “Since no one stopped me from entering, I’m assuming that it’s okay to be listening in on you guys.”

There was a short silence. Then Flyboy spoke up, “We were just wondering where you were.”

Hell held his blue eyes for a long second. Of all of them, she’d considered him her friend. Now she wasn’t sure any more. How much was his friendliness an act?

“I was asleep,” she told him grimly.

She wanted to pound on the table, but it wouldn’t do to let them see her losing it. Not yet. Her main target was
him.
She returned her gaze to Jed McNeil, who calmly picked up a remote from the table.

Oh, he had been so damn smart, hiding behind Hades in those dreams. She wasn’t sure yet how he’d managed to do that but she knew it was him. There was no mistaking those light eyes.

When she’d woken up, she’d instinctively understood what her inner voice had been telling her. She had mistaken her strange dream for what they called “lucid dreaming”, that state of consciousness that she often had when she was aware that she was sleeping and dreaming at the same time. Not only that, she had wrongly assumed that she’d invaded Hades’ dreams again.

Half-awake and still aroused, she’d allowed her mind to drift in search of those hands and lips, letting it wander off as she slowly surfaced. Then she’d experienced that odd dizzying sensation that she had had yesterday, catching a glimpse of dark hair and silvery eyes and this very room, before she was knocked sideways by the same blinding pain.

She knew—absolutely—bone deep, that Jed McNeil was Hades. It was too coincidental that twice now, when she’d managed to slip into remote-viewing mode while thinking of Hades, she’d seen him instead.

Fully conscious after the headache, she’d realized that it was not nighttime, which meant that she and Hades weren’t doing their usual brain synchronization exercise. She’d jerked out of bed and had barely taken the time to freshen up as her mind raged, denied, processed, denied, argued, and denied. She’d rushed here without even remembering how she’d gotten there, as if she just knew where to find him, and strode through the main office past a group of operatives.

It now occurred to her that no one had stopped her. Not that it would have mattered. She had been so angry she would have fought her way in just to see whether he was really here. Punching him felt so good, she was almost too giddy to do anything but sit here and savor it.

“Proposals?” Jed asked calmly. By now, a small cut had opened at the corner of his mouth.

She had to give it to him. He was one cool cat. He was looking at Sullivan as if nothing unusual had happened.

“Umm…how about a break?” Sullivan replied drolly, rubbing his chin.

Helen noted the amused gleam in his eyes, then cast her gaze at the others. Shahrukh was looking at his notes, a tiny smile on his strong lips. Flyboy was sniffing at a pencil as if it was some fine cigar.

She relaxed—just a little. She didn’t want to make things uncomfortable between herself and these men with whom she’d barely begun working. There were seven of them to her one, not counting T., and she had to figure out what the dynamics were here and learn how to work it to her advantage. Her own agency, GEM, was made up of mainly women and their
modus operandi
couldn’t be more different. She had the feeling that working closely with these men was going to be eye-opening, to say the least.

“Do you need one?” Jed asked.

“Nope. But I thought you might need it to take care of that swelling before it gets too puffy. That could be problematic for the next assignment.”

Helen frowned. Ooops. She hoped she hadn’t caused more problems for any assignment. The fact that one of the Cummings had escaped had been her fault.

“Lucky she didn’t break your nose. Puffy eyes, man. It’s a major pain to sight a target from an angle.”

“He could always stand sideways and look out of his good eye.”

Helen felt a flash of guilt until she remembered why she’d hit him. She pursed her lips. Well, she hadn’t broken his jaw or his nose, so their good-natured ribbing was for her benefit. Besides, she had the suspicion that they were trying to get her to say something, perhaps give information about why she was so angry. She looked at him grimly. Let Mr. Know-It-All explain the situation himself.

Jed cocked his head for an instant. “I’m looking at you out of the good eye right now.” Helen watched as he used the remote to move a set of photos. “Resuming run-through. Gorman caught. Dragan Dilaver the subsidiary. The explosive trigger in Macedonia. The SEED in Germany. An underground network of moles inside the CIA, stealing and dispersing information. We’re still in the dark about the flight simulation program and the missing Stealth. Question: Who’s the hidden power behind these thefts? Agenda? Sullivan and Shahrukh, you were backtracking the list and following leads.”

Helen bit down her lower lip. The cadence of his speech—it reminded her of Hades when he summarized things.

“Suggestion. We have the SEED. We can put it out in the market through Diamond. Right now, Deutsche International thinks he’s nabbed it from them,” Sullivan said.

“I think there is a bigger agenda than just weapons stolen. If the old KGB is involved, there is something going on behind the scenes,” Heath said.

Jed nodded. “Agreed. They didn’t collect information for ten years, wheeling and dealing weapons, just for profit alone.” He clicked on the remote and two maps came up side by side. “On the left is Velesta. On the right is Frankfurt. Both these cities are on opposite ends of the economic scale. We need to find out three things. One, who is Dilaver’s contact? Two, why is Deutsche International, a think-tank, buying a decoder from a double-agent? Three,” Jed paused for a moment, then added, “we need to find out what Hell bumped into when she was in the stairwell at Deutsche. These CIA hostiles were after the decoder
and
her, since they tranqued her instead of using live ammo.”

Helen straightened up at the mention of her name. He called her “Hell”, though. Hades liked to call her Elena.

“Wait, we don’t know if they were really after the decoder,” Flyboy pointed out.

“You don’t think it’s coincidental that they showed up right after Hell finished her mission? Why couldn’t they have just nabbed her when she was entering Deutsche?” Jed countered.

“Point taken, but if it was related to Hell, then it has something to do with the Supersoldier program and not the mission itself,” Flyboy said.

“Why would the CIA want me?” Helen asked, puzzled. “They trained me themselves.”

“We’re talking about the faction inside the CIA that’s been infested with moles,” Flyboy told her. “We’ve been working on zeroing in on their identities the past two years while you were in training. Many of them disappeared underground when we caught CIA Deputy Director Gorman.”

“Cummings and his wife were two of them,” Helen guessed.

Flyboy nodded. “A few of them took off with some important documentation. The SEED is one of the most important items that disappeared.” He gave her one of his trademark devastating smiles, flashing teeth and dimples. “You finding and retrieving it before it was sold and distributed was tantamount to a miracle. Gorman could only provide a list of names and we have a special task force at the CIA working on matching up possible leaks and weapon drop-offs from the past ten years. It was taking forever.”

Helen smiled back. “Why do I get the feeling that no one had much hope that I’d get it done?”

“Not true. You think COMCEN’s going to waste all that money on something it hadn’t run through Eight Ball for success/failure percentages? You should know better than that by now, Hell,” Flyboy chided.

Eight Ball was the Center’s supercomputer. Helen liked its quirky personality. Its programmer obviously enjoyed tinkering with it, what with the computer’s knack at finding odd catch-phrases and using them at the strangest moments.

“What was Eight Ball’s percentages for my performance?” she asked curiously.

“Heath, any information coming from Mrs. Cummings?” Jed asked, interrupting them.

Helen looked at him and thought she saw a glint in his eyes. Was there finally a reaction to her punch? She glanced back at Flyboy who gave her a small shrug.

She turned her attention to Heath, sitting next to her. A few days ago, she’d thought he could be Hades. In comparison to Flyboy, there was something very dark and very still about Heath, like a deep lagoon. When she’d asked about his role within the unit, she’d been told it was “retrieval”. “Retrieval” appeared to include interrogation of prisoners.

“I’m working on it,” Heath said. “She gave up her husband for a reason and I’ll get a name sooner or later.”

“Make it sooner,” Jed said softly. “I’ve a feeling there is a time schedule behind all this. We have to find the connection between the trigger and the decoder, between Dilaver in Macedonia and the think-tank in Germany. Something’s brewing.”

“If we retrieve both items, we stop it. Helen’s helped us with one, why not let her try to get the other?” Shahrukh suggested.

“You mean, remote view it?” Helen asked.

“Couldn’t you pinpoint where the explosive is?”

“No,” Jed said.

“Why not?” Flyboy asked.

“Because remote viewing doesn’t work like that. From what we know, the crates are somewhere in the hills in Macedonia. If it’s there, Helen would see the same mountainous surroundings unless there’s a specific landmark, which we don’t have. Isn’t that right, Hell?”

She nodded. “Yes, that’s right. Locating objects or persons in a vast area isn’t easy for a remote viewer. We sense the surroundings and describe them, but we don’t really know the exact spot.”

“Not understanding,” Sullivan said. “How did you manage to get the exact location of the SEED during the test then?”

“I described what I saw to my monitor,” Helen explained, staring hard at Jed, “and he appeared to recognize enough elements of my visual to narrow down the options. Then, he directed me to certain landmarks he knew would pinpoint the exact location. It appeared my monitor was picked specifically because he had inside knowledge of a number of places that are off-limits to outsiders.”

“It sounds like guessing to me,” Sullivan muttered.

“Unless immersive virtual reality’s more than just the monitor listening in on her remote-viewing sessions, Sullivan, but you’ll have to ask Hell about that,” Armando said and slyly added with a wink at Hell, “which helps you, Hell, to eliminate one more man off your list, hmm?”

Helen had to stop a grin from forming. Armando knew she’d been trying desperately to figure out which of them was Hades. He had been one of the prime suspects, actually, until he’d kissed her and then backed off. Something had told her that the real person behind Hades wouldn’t have done that in real life; he’d have kept pushing, just as he always did in virtual reality.

“It takes time to eliminate a man off my list,” Helen drawled, sitting back and studying them, “and definitely more than a few questions about my remote viewing skills. I like being thoroughly sure, but I don’t think any of you would like me inside your mind that long, would you?”

She almost chuckled at the predictable “no fucking way” expression in their eyes. A couple of them looked intrigued. One in particular was looking at her too intently. She knew whom she was after but it didn’t hurt to let them all know that she was after their asses too for having played a part in not telling her what was going on. Each of them had been testing her, wondering about her skill, and trying to see how far they could push. She was enjoying turning the tables, letting them think she could get into their secrets if she chose.

Ha, take that
. Her chin tilted up just a tiny bit when her gaze encountered Jed’s, which seemed to have the ability to make her spine tingle. The trickle of dried blood at the side of those masculine lips made him look even more dangerous. A bruise was starting to show.

“I wouldn’t mind it at all,” Heath said quietly. “It might be an interesting experience, having you in my mind.”

“I suggest you make the appointment later and keep your mind on breaking Mrs. Cummings for now,” Jed said.

Heath smiled slowly, as if what Jed suggested was child’s play. “I’ll hurry up the time table,” he promised softly. “Helen and I would make a good team, don’t you think?”

“Yes, don’t you, Jed?” Helen asked, smiling too.

Icy silver eyes met hers. Those eyes had been watching her all these months. “We’ll see. You’ll need to catch up on the Cummings files now that you’ve passed the test the other agencies demanded. de Clerq will give you the relevant passwords later so you can download from Eight Ball.”

The person she was trying to provoke wasn’t taking the bait. She felt frustrated. Cheated. Damn him, he was determined to be the one to set the tone and the pace of their relationship.

She quickly averted her eyes. Where the hell had that come from? They didn’t have any relationship. “Partnership,” she mumbled to herself, her mind scurrying to find another choice for whatever it was they had between them. “Collaboration. Dammit.” None of the synonyms fit.