Page 21 of A Moment Never Forgotten
“You’re not wrong there.” She shook her head slowly. “I don’t think the man has any friends.”
Deep chuckles came from her old friend. “But he has vices.”
Her eyes popped wide. “What do you know that I don’t?”
The older man shook his head and glanced toward his hand where he was counting backwards from five.
“I’ll be sure to get right on that, Director Hennel,” Berit said as the car came to a stop and the doors snapped open.
“I’ll expect a report by the end of the week.” Noah Hennel turned to the right toward his office. For a big man, he moved with a quiet grace that only comes from field experience.
Turning left, she walked with purpose toward her own office, noticing that even in two-inch heels, she too made very little noise. She thought about her meeting in just a few hours with Micah Reid. Could he possibly be a terrorist? After everything she’d read in his file, with the one exception of the coed Syrian mission, the Navy captain had a stellar record. He personally, and the many teams he commanded over his career, had rid the world of hundreds of terrorists. Berit couldn’t imagine him siding with a subversive group.
She would put Marine Colonel Logan Jackson in the same category as Micah. He, too, had been fighting terrorists his entire career. Switching sides was unconscionable.
Nor could she imagine Teagan Jackson feeding information to a dissident cell. Threatening the children would be a mistake, as the new parents had already proven. Plus, she didn’t have access to any sensitive information except for the final testing of the new helicopters the Marine Corps had just added to its table of equipment.
Elizabeth Saint Clare. She was a true unknown. Berit made a mental note to try to get to know the CIA agent better. First, she would do a deep search of her files.
Same for her husband, Matthew. As the director of Special Activities Division, he had access to massive quantities of information. She understood why a terrorist organization would love to have a man in his position on their side. He controlled one hundred of the most lethal men in the world. One order from him, and someone died.
Berit had her work cut out for her as she headed into her office.
“Good morning, Carol.” She slowed as she passed her administrative assistant’s desk. “Any fires I need to put out already this morning?”
“Yes. As a matter-of-fact, Director Lambert wants to see you. He requested you come straight to his office.”
Fucking great.“Did he say what files I needed to bring?”
“No, ma’am. And he specifically asked for you alone.” She held up her hands in the stop gesture. “Don’t shoot the messenger.”
Berit wondered what special kind of hell he had planned for her. No matter what, she was going to take her lunch hour and meet Micah.
As she entered the outer door to her boss’s office, she immediately noticed that his administrative assistant was gone. She wondered if he had sent her away on purpose or if it was just a coincidence. He’d said he wanted to see her right away, so she approached his door and knocked.
When she heard him saycome in, she opened the door and found him talking on a satellite phone, his back to her. He wasn’t speaking English. Many of the words sounded Arabic but it wasn’t a dialect she recognized nor understood. Not surprising, there were as many idiosyncrasies as there were pockets of once-nomadic tribes.
He spun around. Shock, then anger, glared from his face. “Someone just walked into my office. I have to go.”
Oh, shit. Maybe she shouldn’t have walked in.“I’m terribly sorry, sir. I knocked, and I swear you said come in.”
His face returned to its standard scowl as he sat down behind his desk, slyly sliding the phone into his pocket. “Yes, Ms. Barker, I have a matter to discuss with you. Please have a seat.” He gestured to the two guest chairs.
Sitting on the edge of the closest seat, she folded her hands in her lap and pasted on a smile, cringing inside. “What can I do for you, Director Lambert?”
“I’ve been informed that you’re becoming friendly with Teagan Jackson and her small group of friends here in DC.” He sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers.
How the hell did he know that? Was someone in that group spying for him?
“You assigned me as liaison with Marsha Davis after her husband, Gabriel’s, death. When she was murdered, the children inherited everything and since Teagan—”
“Yes, yes.” He cut her off. “I’m familiar with the circumstances.” He leaned forward placing his forearms on his desk. “Everything still worked out as I had hoped.”
Berit felt her jaw drop.
“I can tell by the expression on your face you had no idea that I had purposely selected you as liaison with Gabriel Davis’s wife.” His attempted smile looked more like a sneer. “I needed someone with your talents to infiltrate that group of friends. Your years in clandestine services should come in handy for this assignment. I want you to infiltrate this group and report back to me. And only me.”
Déjà vu. Kind of.
