Page 48 of Covert Affairs

“In public during the few minutes you were in the restroom?” She shook her head. “I don’t remember anything odd, and that’s not a likely scenario. To put me under and plant a trigger in my subconscious would take a highly trained expert over a period of time, working on my subconscious without my knowledge. It couldn’t have happened that morning, and it has to be someone I trust deeply, whom I would never suspect.”

“Who fits that description?”

Her head pounded, her mind unwilling to go there. To think about the few close friends she’d had, and the fact one had betrayed her. Violated her. “Get my notebook, would you?”

“How about you get dressed, and we’ll retrieve it together?”

He didn’t want to let her out of his sight. She couldn’t blame him. “Hand me my clothes.”

Unsteady on her feet,she had to lean on him as they walked. The weakness made her angry all over again.

Who had done this to her? More importantly, how was she going to track them down and reveal their complex scheme to the world?

Whatever it took, she had to do it. She had to clear her name, banish the shadows from Ian’s face. Give the two of them a fighting chance for a future.

At her office, she pulled up short. Her ears rang and her vision darkened, as if she were about to pass out.Save Ian. “Wait,” she choked. “Make sure the birds aren’t in there.”

He cracked open the door and then gave her the all-clear. “Are you okay?”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. It was fear, plain and simple. A fresh wave of anger rolled through her, and she grabbed onto it like a lifesaver, accepting her husband’s supportive hand. “I’ll be fine. My notebook should be in my desk.”

No sooner had he got her seated then Beatrice appeared in the doorway. Rory, on crutches with his leather bag, followed.

“I hear our patient is up and about,” Beatrice said, looking Vivi over. “Have you remembered something?”

“Only that I wanted to save Ian.” She leafed through the pages of her notebook. “I’m sure that was the trigger, not a specific word that Watson said.” All eyes were on her as she tried to push past the pain throbbing between her temples and find a logical explanation. “A bird is an unreliable tool to activate any type of subconscious programming. Think about it. Sure, mine can mimic human speech, but they tend to speak words randomly.” As if her brain had received a cue, a stray recollection of her and Parker discussing the birds flitted across her mind. “Codename,” she murmured.

“What about it?” Ian asked. “Is that the trigger?”

She shook her head. “No.” She held up a finger, trying not to lose the thread from earlier. “Give me a second.”

GenGen

You need a Rock Star codename.

The cache in her head began to spit things out. The cage, Watson hopping up and down, Parker’s wiggling finger.

Those in her office stared intently. Pieces of the puzzle danced around each other, a bottomless sensation in her stomach.

“I believe my reaction earlier had more to do with my fear that Ian was going to be ambushed on that jaunt he went on. Something about that scared me and made me recall the message and picture I received that day with a threat. That’s what triggered it.”

Ian sat on the desk. “The photo of me in front of that hotel?”

She nodded. “The day is still a blur, but I remember now that it showed up in my email with no explanation, then a copy of it was on my desk, again with no explanation.” More images flooded back to her. “I didn’t know what to do with it. Why someone kept showing it to me.”

She shook her head as if that could clear the void.

“What doescodenamehave to do with it?” Beatrice asked.

“I used codenames with patients when I logged them into my calendar. It was a layer of security that made them more receptive to opening up about things.”

“Regardless of privacy measures surrounding our employment,” Ian explained, “those of us who live under the gun and use false identities to keep our real ones secret felt more at ease knowing our name wasn’t splashed all over her appointment book.”

“I used names of animals, like eagle, hawk, cobra, and the likes, along with my own personal coding system.”

“How did you keep track of all that?” Rory asked.

She tapped her temple. “My memory is typically very good. Every patient I saw has a separate room inside my mind palace that contains facts about them and what we discussed during their sessions.” Giving her head a harder tap, she shut her eyes and tried to remember why the term codename had caused her to blackout. Why she’d felt overwhelmed with panic.

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