Cindy Dees: Target

A couple names of people she’d dealt with in the last few months popped into her head. Except she hesitated to call on anyone she’d worked with on her Q-group investigation. She wouldn’t put it past her grandfather or whoever was sabotaging her research to have gotten in contact with all of her recent colleagues.

Samantha St. John.

The petite, Slavic beauty was one of Josie’s best friends from Athena Academy. Sam worked for the CIA as a linguist-and undoubtedly more, although they’d never spoken about that aspect of her work. Of course, Sam traveled a ton and might not be here, but it was worth a try.

Diana stepped up to the receptionist, if the cold-eyed man sitting behind the counter could be called that. “I’m here to see Samantha St. John. Could you ring her office for me?”

“Is she expecting you?” the man asked coolly.

“No, she’s not. But it’s a matter of some urgency.”

The guy gave her a condescending look that said everything that passed through this building was a matter of some urgency. Nonetheless, he typed briefly in his computer and then dialed an extension on his phone. He spoke into his wireless headset, a quiet murmur Diana couldn’t hear. Which was impressive since she was standing only a foot away from the guy.

He looked up at her. “She’ll be right down.”

Hallelujah. Now maybe she’d get to the bottom of what and who S.A.F.E. was and stop it once and for all.

D iana spied Sam’s arrival before she could actually see her by the way people’s heads were turning at her passage. Sam was one of those women who was so strikingly beautiful that people couldn’t help but stare at her.

“Diana! What a surprise! What brings you here at this hour of the night?”

She smiled warmly at Sam. Ever since she’d gotten together with Riley McLane, Sam had been a different woman. Warmer. More open. It was good to see. Made a girl kind of wish she could find a guy like that for herself. Diana sighed. She had found a guy like that. There was just the small problem of him becoming President of the United States at any second.

Diana replied, “How about we go up to your office? This is actually a business visit. I have something…sensitive…to discuss with you.”

Sam arched one eyebrow questioningly but made no comment as she signed Diana in and got her a visitor’s badge. “This way,” she said.

Diana followed her classmate across the giant CIA seal inlaid in the floor and down a long glass-enclosed hallway beside a courtyard. They went upstairs, past a series of unmarked doors, and through another anonymous door into a cluster of glass cubicles. Sam wound her way through the maze of people and desks to a tiny office in the back, thankfully with solid walls. She picked up a stack of files off the second chair in her office and offered it to Diana.

Diana closed the door behind her and sat down.

“What’s up?” Sam asked.

Diana frowned. Now wasn’t that a good question? Aloud she answered, “I don’t know how much to tell you. If I say too much, I could put your life in danger. But, I need your help, so I owe you some sort of explanation.”

Sam grinned. “Sounds interesting. And I can handle a little danger.”

Diana grimaced. “This could be a lot of danger. I’ve already had my house broken into today, been arrested, been kidnapped and nearly shot twice.”

Sam’s eyebrows zinged up and her demeanor abruptly became serious. Focused. Intense, even. Sometimes Diana forgot just how smart Sam was behind all that exotic beauty. Diana continued. “Here’s the thing. I need to break into an office in this building and search it for some information. ASAP. That’s what I need your help with.”

Sam didn’t bat an eyelash. It confirmed Diana’s suspicion that she was a covert field operative for the CIA in addition to her overt duties as a linguist. No simple desk jockey reacted that calmly to a suggestion that she assist in a breaking-and-entering job.

“Whose office?” Sam asked.

“A guy named Collin Scott. Have you heard of him?”

Sam laughed. “It’s kind of hard not to have heard of him around here. He’s the number two guy in the Plans Section. Why on earth do you want to break into his office?”

“I have reason to believe he’s involved with a secret group called S.A.F.E.”

Sam chuckled. “I’m sure he’s involved with a number of secret groups. That’s his job.”

“How many of them are trying to kill Gabe Monihan?”

That sobered up Samantha in a hurry. “You think Collin Scott’s trying to kill the next President of the United States?”

Diana closed her eyes for a moment. Spoken aloud, it sounded absurd to her, too. “I don’t have time to go into the entire investigation I’ve done. But I think Scott is involved in a clandestine conspiracy of a few high-ranking government officials and civilians who want to kill Gabe.”

“That’s preposterous,” Sam retorted.

“So go with me to his office and see if we can find any information on this S.A.F.E. bunch.”

Sam asked thoughtfully, “What does it stand for?”

“Society for the Advancement of Free Economies.”

Sam stood up. “Honey, I’d love to help you, but I just can’t. Not on this one.”

Diana nodded in disappointed understanding. As she recalled from their martial arts training at the Athena Academy, Sam was as fast as greased lightning in a hand-to-hand fight. “I didn’t think you could help me, but it was worth a shot.” She stood up facing her old friend. “Just keep an ear to the ground, eh? If you hear anything about this S.A.F.E. group, could you give me a call? And be careful. They’re dangerous.”

She leaned forward to hug Sam. And chopped her across the back of the head beneath the back of her skull. Hard. Enough to knock her out. She caught Sam as she sagged, unconscious, and lowered her to the floor. God, she hated having to do that.

She taped Sam’s hands and feet behind her back using a roll of wide masking tape she found in Sam’s desk drawer. She put a couple strips of tape across her mouth, too. She taped Sam’s trussed hands and feet behind her to the legs of her desk, as well. That should keep her immobile for a few minutes. Working fast before Sam woke up, Diana tore off a strip of clear, cellophane tape from another roll of tape in Sam’s desk and pressed it hard against the pad of Sam’s thumb. She tore the tape off quickly and held it carefully, sticky side out. She grabbed Sam’s ID badge and fished in Sam’s pocket for the access card she’d used to get into this office area. Got it.

Last, she opened up the employee directory she found in Sam’s desk and thumbed through it until she found the name, Collin Scott. She noted his office number and located it on the map inside the back cover of the book.

She clipped Sam’s ID badge to her collar, picked up a stack of files off Sam’s desk and headed out. Here went nothing. A breaking-and-entering job inside one of the most secure buildings on the planet. If there was any doubt about her having completely lost her mind, this sealed the deal.

She walked back through the cubicles briskly, not looking at the people working at desks inside them. Out the door and into the hall. She oriented herself quickly and headed left. Up one more floor and down another long hall. Then, around one more corner. Bingo. There was the office she was looking for. She tested the door. Locked.

She pulled out Sam’s access card and swiped it through the magnetic lock pad. She started violently as a two-inch square pad lit up on the face of the lock and a voice intoned, “Right thumbprint, please.”

Diana pressed the piece of tape against the pad.

A green light flashed and the door lock clicked.