Kate Donovan - Exit Strategy

As she carried the half-empty test tube back to the safe, she was so completely intent on HeetSeek and its implications, she momentarily forgot her actual mission. And the dogs. And the fact that unidentified substances were not the only source of danger for a CIA agent on an unsanctioned op in a foreign country.

Then a rough voice brutally reminded her of that danger, shouting orders at her in Spanish as overhead lamps began to blaze, flooding the room with light so bright it stabbed at her eyeballs. Completely disoriented, she spun toward the voice, and as she did so, the test tube of HeetSeek slipped from her grasp, crashing to the floor at her feet.

She jumped back, certain that the room would now be rocked by an explosion, and when nothing happened, she almost laughed with relief.

Then she raised her hands above her head, looked directly into the angry eyes of the armed men in the doorway, and said with a cheerful smile, “I guess I’m busted. And so is my loot.”

There were four men, three of whom were wearing uniforms and were armed with pistols. The fourth man hung back a bit, clearly more intimidated by the situation than his captive was. He was dressed in casual, golf-style clothes and from his rumpled hair and bleary eyes, Miranda guessed he had been pulled out of bed unexpectedly.

But why?

According to SPIN’s intel, BioGeniSystems didn’t use armed guards either directly or as part of a contract with a security company. Even assuming they did, she wondered how they had discovered the break-in so quickly. Was it possible she had triggered a silent alarm at some point? It didn’t seem likely, given the otherwise poor security.

After instructing her to keep her hands raised, one of the guards stepped forward and frisked her, then turned to show her Glock to his companions, oblivious to the fact that he had failed to detect the vial in her pocket.

The man in the golf clothes spoke for the first time. “Who do you work for? What else have you touched besides the-the contents of the safe?”

Miranda licked her lips, intrigued. He didn’t want to mention the term “HeetSeek.” Apparently it was so confidential-so valuable-that he didn’t even trust his own men to know about it.

“What else was worth touching?” Miranda asked with a wry smile. “My employers offered me a fortune if I could snag the Night Arrow formula for them. Imagine what they would have given me for an actual sample! Too bad it broke.”

“Night Arrow?” a female voice asked in obvious disbelief, and a lovely, well-dressed woman pushed her way through the group of guards. Ignoring Miranda, she said to the unarmed man, “You told us that was just a myth!”

“It is. It is.” He shrank from her angry gaze. “We ran experiments on it, just to be sure it didn’t work. And it doesn’t. I swear it, Señora Carerra.”

“Carerra?” Miranda looked more closely at the woman, impressed. “Are you Angelina? The widow of Benito Carerra?”

The woman’s brown eyes narrowed. “Who are you to dare ask my name?”

Miranda smiled. “You and I have something in common. We were both screwed by Ray Ortega.”

Angelina opened her mouth as if to speak, then she closed it and just studied Miranda for a few moments.

Then she surprised everyone by murmuring to her guards, “Leave us for a minute. I’d like to speak with Miss… Miss?”

“I’m Jennifer Aguilar. I was hired by Cornucopia Pharmaceuticals to steal the Night Arrow formula.”

“Cornucopia,” the unarmed man muttered. “Those bastards.”

Angelina glared at him. “Apparently they knew the truth, that you have been working on this all along. Step outside with my men, doctor. And hope that Miss Aguilar here puts me in a better mood, or you will wish you hadn’t lied to us.”

When he and the others had left, the dark-haired woman instructed Miranda simply, “Talk to me.”

Miranda shrugged. “I heard all about it. From Ortega himself. It was one of the missions that made him famous, you know. Seducing you and then using the information to kill your husband. I went through something similar, but in my case, it was my career that he killed, not my husband.”

“Go on.”

She sighed. “Do you think I dreamed of this? Industrial espionage? I had my sights set higher. But Ortega ruined that.”

“You wanted to work for the CIA?”

“Exactly. I made it into their training program. Then Ortega used me for one of his ops. Made a complete fool out of me and enjoyed himself-sexually-in the process. I was tossed out on my ear after he was done with me.” She didn’t have to feign the passion in her voice as she added, “I wanted that career. I earned it. I could have made a difference. But that-that bastard ruined everything for me. And the same thing happened to you. Right?”

Angelina hesitated, then asked carefully, “Aren’t you forgetting something? It’s true, Ortega used me. But he also believed that by killing Benito, he was rescuing me from a very cruel man.”

“And what if he had failed in his mission? Did he ever once think about what would have happened to you if he hadn’t been able to kill your husband?”

Angelina arched an eyebrow. “I see you truly hate him. As do I. It was arrogant of him to assume I wanted to be rescued. Who was he to decide such a thing? To use me the way he did?”

“I’m sorry,” Miranda told her softly. “I know how it feels to be duped by him. And then abandoned to pick up the pieces of a shattered life.”

“I survived, and now I am stronger because of it. You will be, too.” Angelina walked to the safe and examined the rack of vials. “You took only one? The one that broke?”

“Yes. That and the files. They’re in my bag.”

“Leave them. Take nothing but your keys, and then go quickly. I will see that you are not prosecuted.”

Miranda stared. “Really?”

“We are sisters, are we not? Come.” She took Miranda by the arm and led her into the warehouse area where the men were waiting. “Miss Aguilar is leaving now. I want each of you to forget this ever happened. Is that clear?”

When the doctor protested that they should turn Miranda over to the authorities as a burglar, Angelina reminded him, “Are you ready for that kind of publicity? Do you want the world to know about Night Arrow?”

“No,” he admitted.

“Then we will let her go. And she will tell no one what she found. Is that not true, Miss Aguilar?”

“I’ll tell them there was no sign of Night Arrow anywhere,” Miranda assured her, adding softly, “If I had known you were associated with BioGeniSystems, I never would have taken this assignment. But still, I’m glad we had a chance to meet. Sisters, just like you said.”

Angelina beamed. “I am pleased, too. Now go home. Find another way to earn a living. And be strong, Jennifer.”

“I will.” She took one final look at this woman who had been through so much, been trampled so often, yet somehow had evolved into the most confident, least victimlike female Miranda had ever met.

Living proof that there really is life after Ortega, Miranda told herself, impressed.

And inspired.

Flashing Angelina a grateful smile, she backed a safe distance away from the group, then turned and sprinted for the door.

“I still can’t believe she let you go.”

“I know.” Miranda helped herself to a third slice of pizza from the box on Kristie’s coffee table, then settled back in one of the spinner’s overstuffed easy chairs. “To her, I was a kindred spirit, thank God.”

“It was a brilliant move, telling her about you and Ray. It could have backfired, but instead, it was your ticket out of there.”

“Of course, she also didn’t want the world hearing about Night Arrow. So she might have let me go anyway.”