Carol Ericson - Under Fire

But that was then.

She planted her feet on the carpet, widening her stance in front of him. “Are you going to tell me what this is all about now? Why did Simon go on a murderous rampage, why is someone out to get me, and why did you blame it all on me?”

He snapped the tab on his can and took a long pull from it, eyeing her above the rim. “Let’s sit down. You must be exhausted.”

“I am, but not too exhausted to hear the truth.” She walked backward away from him and swiveled toward the bed, dropping onto the mattress. She had to hold herself upright because out of Max’s tension-filled sphere, she did feel exhausted. She felt like collapsing on the bed and pulling the covers over her head.

He dragged a chair out from the desk by the window and sat down, stretching his long legs in front of him. It was the closest he’d come to a relaxed pose since he’d stormed into the lab in full riot gear.

“What do you know about the work at the lab?”

“Didn’t we go through this already? We support a covert ops agency, Prospero, by monitoring and treating its agents. Part of the lab is responsible for developing vitamin formulas that enhance strength, alertness and even intelligence.”

“But you’re not part of that lab.”

“N-no. I’m the people doctor, not the research doctor.”

He slumped in his chair and took another gulp of his drink. “How do you know you support Prospero? Isn’t that supposed to be classified information? After all, the general public knows nothing of Prospero...or other covert ops agencies under the umbrella of the CIA.”

“We’re not supposed to know, but like I said, people talk.” She waved her hand in the air. “I’ve heard things around the lab.”

“You heard wrong.”

She choked on the sip of water she’d just swallowed. “I beg your pardon?”

“The rumor mill had the wrong info or it purposely spread the wrong info. You don’t support Prospero. You support another covert ops team—Tempest.”

“Oh.” Clearing her throat, she shrugged. “One agency or the other. It doesn’t make any difference to me. They must be related groups, since both of their names come from the Shakespeare play.”

He nodded slowly and traced the edge of the can with his fingertip. “They are related, in a way.”

“So what difference does it make whether we supported Prospero or Tempest?”

“I said the agencies were related, not the same. One is a force for good, and the other...” His hand wrapped around the can and his knuckles grew white as he squeezed it.

The knots in her stomach twisted with the aluminum. “Tempest is a force for evil? Is that what you mean?”

“Yes.”

She jerked the hand holding the bottle and the water sloshed against the plastic. “That’s ridiculous. I wouldn’t work for an agency like that. Would you? You’re a Tempest agent. Are you telling me you all signed up for service knowing Tempest had bad intentions?”

“Not knowingly. Did you? How did you come to work at the lab?”

Unease churned in her gut and a flash of heat claimed her flesh from head to toe.

“What is it?” Max hunched forward, bracing his forearms against his thighs.

“Dr. Arnoff recruited me.” She pressed her fingers to her warm cheeks. “He gave me the job because I had nowhere else to go.”

“Why not, Ava?” His dark eyes burned into her very soul.

“I—I had lost my license to practice medicine. I was finished as a physician before I had even started. Dr. Arnoff gave me a chance. He gave me a chance to be a doctor again.” Her voice broke and she took a gulp of water to wash down the tears.

“Why? What happened? You’re a good doctor, Ava.”

His gentle tone and kind words had the tears pricking the backs of her eyes.

She sniffed. “I’m not a doctor. I made a mistake. Someone betrayed me, but it was my own fault. I was too trusting, too stupid.”

He opened his mouth and then snapped it shut. Running a hand through his thick, dark hair until it stood up, he heaved a sigh. “So, Arnoff took advantage of your situation, your desperation to get you to work for Tempest.”

“And you? Simon? The others? How did Tempest recruit you?”

He dropped his lashes and held himself so still, she thought he’d fallen asleep for a few seconds. When he opened his eyes, he seemed very far away. “You’re not the only one who has made mistakes, Ava.”

“So, what is Tempest? What do they do? Wh-what have you done for them?”

A muscle twitched in his jaw, and he ran his knuckles across the dark stubble there. “Tempest is responsible for assassinations, kidnappings, tampering with elections around the world.”

“I’m not naive, Max. A lot of covert ops groups are responsible for the same types of missions.”

“Tempest is different. An agency like Prospero may commit acts of espionage and violence, but those acts promote a greater good—a safer world.”

She crossed her arms and hunched her shoulders. “And what does Tempest promote?”

Max’s dark eyes burned as he gazed past her, his nostrils flaring. He seemed to come to some decision as his gaze shifted back to her face, his eyes locking onto hers.

“Terror, chaos, destruction.”

“No!” A sharp pain drilled the back of her skull and she bounded from the bed. “I don’t believe you. That turns everything we did in that lab, all our efforts, into a big lie. My coworkers were good people. We were doing good work there. We were protecting agents who were protecting our country.”

He lunged from his chair, slicing his hand through the air, and she stumbled backward as he loomed over her, his lean frame taut and menacing.

“Tempest agents do not protect this country. Tempest is loyal to no one country or group of nations. Tempest is loyal to itself and the shadowy figure that runs it.”

Her knees shook so much she had to grip the edge of the credenza. Despite Max’s sudden burst of fury, she didn’t fear him. The man had saved her twice. But she did fear his words.

Maybe he was delusional. Maybe this was how Simon had started. Maybe she should fear Max Duvall.

“I don’t understand.” The words came out as a whisper even though that hadn’t been her intent. She had no more control over her voice than she did the terror galloping throughout her body.

He ran both hands through his hair, digging his fingers into his scalp. “I don’t see how I can be any plainer. Tempest is a deep undercover agency, so rogue the CIA is completely in the dark about its operations and methods. Tempest carries out assassinations and nation building all on its own, and these interests do not serve the US or world peace.”

“Then what is their purpose?”

As if realizing his close proximity to her for the first time, Max shuffled back, retreating to the window, wedging a shoulder against the glass.

“I don’t know. Tempest’s overall goal is a mystery to me.”

“If Tempest is so evil, why are you one of its agents? You said you were recruited, but why’d you stay? There’s no way the agency could keep you in the dark, not...not like me.”

She held her breath, bracing for another outburst. Instead, Max relaxed his rigid stance. His broad shoulders slumped and he massaged the back of his neck.

“You really have no idea, do you? You haven’t figured it out yet.”

A muscle beneath her eye jumped, and she smoothed her hands across her face. She sipped in a few short breaths, pushing back against the creeping dread invading her lungs.

“Why should I know? You haven’t explained that part to me. You’ve made some crazy, wild accusations, throwing puzzle pieces at me, expecting me to fit them together when I haven’t even processed the mass murder I just witnessed.”