Page 23 of Undercover Savior

“I don’t think there’s ever been a stronger case for staying away for longer periods of time.”

“Is it settled, then? Temporary relocation to Glenshadow?” Con asked.

“As long as Tag is okay with it,” I said at the same time my mobile vibrated. “What now?” I muttered, looking at the alert.

“Share with the class, Ash,” Con teased.

“Mrs. Drummond relayed a message that Sullivan is requesting I return to the cottage”—I reread the message to be sure—“in the next fifteen minutes.”

“What’s this about?” Gus asked.

“It doesn’t say.” I looked over at Tag. “What are your thoughts on relocating her?”

“Of course. Whatever’s necessary.”

“Very well. See you later, gents.” I stood and walked out.

No doubt all three men found my abrupt departure curious. Unless I was assigned an op, I was hardly known to jump when issued a demand. In fact, I’d be more likely to ignore it. Something told me Sullivan wouldn’t play this card, though, if whatever it was, wasn’t urgent.

8

SULLIVAN

Iwas stunned but happy to find a power cord for my laptop as well as ports built into the desk in the bedroom. While I waited for it to charge enough for me to use it, I returned to the living room and perused the books on the shelves.

Mrs. Drummond was still in the kitchen, tidying up even though it looked perfectly clean to me.

She’d been so gracious and kind to me thus far, I hesitated to pose the questions I was dying to ask. Surely, she would know the history of the castle and why security measures were so tight on an estate where an SIS sniper lived in a one-bedroom cottage.

For the second time, I talked myself out of it.

I glanced out the window, wondering where David had run off to in such haste.

Deciding it wouldn’t be right for me to ask Mrs. Drummond about his whereabouts either, I leaned down to look at some of the larger books on the bottom section, elated when I saw one about Scottish castles. I pulled it, along with a couple of others, from the shelves and carried it into the bedroom without glancing at Mrs. Drummond to determine whether she’d noticed or not.

As anxious as I was to see if the castle was in the book, I had far more urgent matters to attend to now that my computer was charged enough to power on.

I searched for a Wi-Fi network, stunned when I found one that didn’t require a password. However, after pulling up the log-in page for the Crown Herald servers, the connection dropped.

Next, I tried an encrypted app I used to contact sources I didn’t want the news agency I worked for to have access to. It had a built-in connection log, which immediately appeared on the screen.

Standard Wi-Fi: Blocked

Mobile data: Limited

Satellite connection: Intercepted

Secure VPN: Rerouted

While all this sounded standard,the intercepted satellite connection and rerouted VPN were mildly suspicious and majorly frustrating.

Irritated by my inability to access the outside world, I picked up the book about Scottish castles. After skimming the pages, I was disappointed not to find any photos that looked similar to the one that sat on the promontory above the cottage. I turned back to the copyright page and saw the publication date was four decades ago, not that much would’ve changed with structures that were centuries old.

I heard the front door open and close, and when I peeked out the window, I saw Mrs. Drummond walking down the trail in the direction of the loch. Odd that she hadn’t knocked or called out that she was leaving. That she was gone, though, gave me the opportunity to do more exploring.

Something felt off about the place, almost as if it had been designed for a movie set. While everything in it looked authentic, it didn’t feel that way.

Since I didn’t have my mobile, something that still infuriated me, I made do with what I did have. I returned to the bedroom and grabbed my laptop. While using it to capture images wasn’t ideal, it would suffice.

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