Doranna Durgin - Comeback

In other words, we’re all adults here. Let it go, Dobry.

And Dobry considered it. He looked at Selena, chewed his bottom lip for the merest instant, and nodded. “Right,” he said. “Let’s not waste any more time.”

Right, Selena thought. Because if they looked any more closely at the incident, he might have to answer questions about his own judgment that night. Up until now, he’d covered his ass by standing by his original response, that he’d simply been taking appropriate initiative to assess what he saw as a potential problem. But scrutiny wouldn’t do the claim any good.

Randy said, “Your station chief is Stan F. TRAMMEL. Selena, your station name is now Elaine P. BLUEMAN, and Steven will remain George M. FLEAGAL. All communiques will come to you via the station at these names. Selena, I assume you know that overseas case officers refer to one another by their station names alone.”

In fact, Selena knew this wasn’t always the case, but close enough. She nodded. She’d had months to learn the ins and outs of her new alphabet family, and she’d absorbed much of it from Cole long before now, including the convention of using all-caps for a case officer’s last name. But she raised her hand, just briefly—interruption rather than a request to speak. “I think I’ve missed a step.” She sent an even look in Dobry’s direction, weighed his probable reaction and went ahead anyway. “I don’t understand why I’m being partnered with anyone at all. I’ll have the backup of the local station, and I’m sure Langley’s resources will be at my disposal as well.” Not to mention Oracle. Although that last wasn’t a fact that anyone here could know.

Janet looked at her with her agency face on, but Selena thought she saw a gleam of understanding. “Although you have significant Berzhaani government and security contacts and we expect you to work this op under the cover of your own name, there’s a good chance you’ll also end up working the streets. In fact, we assume that’ll happen. When it does, you’ll need a man on your team.”

Selena winced at the thought. Under those circumstances, Dobry would have the initiative.

But the man had no agenda in Berzhaan. Had no reason to do anything other than his best, grabbing the opportunity to return to the field on a permanent basis.

And the hell of it was, the CIA was right. In the business section of the city, she could wear Western clothes and a modest attitude and get by just fine. But without the cachet of the embassy behind her, without official business to wear on her sleeve, she’d have to be much more careful in the outlying areas.

And if she knew Cole, he’d dug himself a little hidey-hole for Dr. Aymal so he could then go sniff out his options. A hidey-hole she’d have to find, and that she had no chance of finding if she was hanging out in the embassy trying to pull strings.

Dobry’s expression had turned earnest. It wasn’t one she’d seen on him before, and she wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. “Look, I don’t have exactly the same stakes as you, but this man is a CIA operative in trouble and the asset is carrying invaluable intel. I’ll do everything I can to get them out of there.”

Selena nodded an acknowledgment, but Janet was the one she looked to. Don’t make me ask it.

Janet was no dummy. She volunteered the information. “Because of Selena’s experience in Berzhaan, she’s to be the senior operative.” She raised a hand as Dobry’s mouth opened. “However—Selena, I trust that you understand this is an unusual situation. FLEAGAL is an experienced officer. Take advantage of that fact.”

Selena nodded. “Gratefully,” she said, and meant it. She’d use anything that would help her find Cole and get them all out of there alive. She shifted in the chair—Aeron or not, she’d been sitting for far too long, especially in the wake of that wild ride down the mountain.

Janet’s mouth pursed; she tapped the closed file folder in front of her. Red, like Selena’s. “Do more than tolerate one another,” she reiterated. “Work together as the team we know you can be. Because there’s more to this asset than you know—information we received right before this meeting. Aymal’s former case officer briefly regained consciousness. He doesn’t remember much, but he does know that Aymal mentioned the terrorist attack will be soon— and that it will involve a school.”

God, no. Not kids. She’d have to tell Delphi for Oracle as soon as possible, although the Oracle system probably would soon have the intel. She closed her eyes, trying to assimilate the additional urgency—another layer on top of her concern for Cole. For a moment it all mixed together, her remembered fears for the schoolkids she’d ultimately saved from the hands of the Kemeni eight months earlier, her instant protectiveness of any child, her ongoing efforts to have her own children with Cole.

But then, none of it was anything new. She’d been working for the next generation from the start, creating cooperative counterterrorism programs in allied countries as an FBI legate. She hadn’t thought she’d ever be in that particular position again, but the responsibility suddenly clicked into place, as snug as the shoulder harness for her Beretta. “When do we leave?”

Randy must have been the go-to guy, the details facilitator. He smiled, and looked satisfied. “I’ve reserved a couple of spots on a Starlifter leaving Bolling within the hour. BLUEMAN, you can pull things from the suitcase you had in Arizona, and you’ll also find a suitcase already packed. It has both Western and Berzhaani-style garments, as well as your personal effects.”

Selena stopped short of reacquiring her croissant. “You went to the town house.”

“While you were in the air,” he agreed. “And there’s a travel outfit in that overnighter by the door.”

She opened her mouth, then decided to fill it with a torn piece of croissant rather than words. Just doing his job…and doing it well at that. After she swallowed, she said, “Thank you. Do I have time to change before we leave?”

Dobry frowned in doubt. “How fast can you do it?”

At that moment, she thought, What would happen if I ditched him and showed up alone at the plane?

Tempting. So tempting.

Taz would do it.

But Selena wouldn’t.

Not yet.

Instead she left her chair for the overnight bag and zipped it open with economical purpose, pulling out a deep turquoise shirt knit in a chunky, exaggerated weave, and a pair of her black cargo pants. She nodded approval at Randy, and then grabbed the bottom of her shirt—she was halfway to pulling it over her head before Janet laughed, a quietly amused sound.

Randy glanced at Dobry and said drily, “Point taken, but there’s a bathroom just down the hall that will do. I think we can spare the thirty seconds it’ll take for you to reach it. Not to mention it has a mirror—there’s makeup and jewelry in that case, too.”

Selena dropped her shirt and grabbed the overnighter. “Works for me.” She looked back at Dobry on her way out. “Faster than you can flush a urinal.”

When she returned just moments later, she found them up and waiting. She grabbed her croissant and a cream-cheese bear claw, wrapping both in a napkin and shoving them—along with a bottle of water—into her briefcase. At Dobry’s raised brow she said, “I don’t know about you, but I’m still making up for breakfast. I get cranky without my corn flakes.”

“Can’t have that,” Dobry said, trying to make it sound lighthearted and failing. Selena left the overnighter in her chair—let the CIA have the horse-imbued riding tights, and she’d buy Athena another pair of boots—and breezed out the door ahead of him, close on Randy’s heels. Once in the hallway, Janet said, “Randy will see you to the plane from here. Good luck, FLEAGAL… BLUEMAN.”