Chapter 8

EIGHT

“Nice room,” Jack said, looking around the suite.

Without looking up from my phone I said, “It fucking stinks in here.”

The three dots danced before they went away…again. This was the second time Atlee had started to respond but stopped.

“Stinks? What does it smell like?”

“Like someone had a heavy hand with the air freshener.”

“Only you would bitch about a luxury two-bedroom suite on the forty-fifth floor of the Sky Jewel with a view of the Bellagio fountains.”

I glanced out the window. It was daylight but still the Bellagio fountain was impressive.

Thoughts of fucking Atlee in front of that window while the fountain danced all lit up invaded my mind.

“When are you gonna tell me what’s crawled up your ass?”

I contemplated his question for no other reason than to give myself time to come up with a plausible lie. When nothing came to mind I gave him the same answer I’d given the last three times he’d asked.

“Nothing’s crawled up my ass.”

“Right,” he drawled and leaned back in one of the blue suede chairs. “Damn, these things are uncomfortable.”

“Now who’s bitching about a luxury two-bedroom suite?”

“Has she called you?” Jack changed the subject.

“Who?”

“Atlee,” he scoffed like he thought I was an idiot.

I blew his question off, deciding work was a better topic to discuss than Atlee not returning my text.

“Miller and Heffner will be here in twenty minutes. They’re bringing Deputy Marshal Catarina Keys with them.”

“So that’s how you’re gonna play it?”

“Yep,” I answered honestly.

“You know—”

“I know she’s doing us both a favor,” I started. “I know I need to follow her lead and forget about her. What happened, happened and it should end there.”

“And what exactly happened?”

Fuck.

My phone vibrated and damn if my heart didn’t kick up a notch.

I tapped in my code and unlocked the phone.

I’m crazy busy at work this week. There’s a VIP in town and he’s a pain up my ass.

The next message came quickly.

Wait! I mean, *in* my ass. Not up it.

I would’ve smiled at the typo if I hadn’t been in a shit mood for the last ten days.

Without responding I pocketed my phone.

“Did Rhode send the full workup on Catarina?” I asked.

Jack blew out an annoyed breath. “Not yet.”

I needed that workup before I agreed to go undercover with the woman. Joan Heffner had handpicked Catarina for the assignment. But I had my reservations. She was young and had only been with the sex offender investigative operations branch for a year.

“You’re not feeling her for the job?” Jack deduced.

“I’d like to know the person who’s supposed to have my back during an operation can actually have it.”

“The dossier that was sent over was impressive. She was Army counter-intelligence.”

Catarina was also part of a SOCOM tactical human intel team but that didn’t mean she had the right training or skills to go undercover.

“She’s also thirty,” I shot back.

Jack’s black eyes narrowed.

“What does her age have to do with anything?”

“All I’m saying is she’s young.”

She was also blonde, blue eyed, and petite.

A combination that always made my gut clench.

“And gorgeous. She’ll turn heads. Which is what you need walking into this.”

“What I need is someone who’s not going to get me dead.”

I knew Jack had more to say, fortunately his phone rang before he could press the issue.

“Hey, Rhode. Let me put you on speaker.” Jack lowered his phone and tapped the screen. “Whatcha got?”

“I emailed the file on Catarina Keys.”

“Anything stick out?” I asked as I pulled my tablet out of my messenger bag.

“All of it stuck out,” Rhode answered.

“Care to elaborate?”

I had the file open when Rhode continued.

“Joined the Army at nineteen. By twenty-two she’d made a name for herself not only within her brigade but the CIA took notice. She was young, unassuming, and beautiful. They approached but she turned them down. She did two deployments to Germany. The CIA approached again, this time not to recruit her but with a specific mission.”

“What was the mission?” Jack inquired.

“Chatter about school bombings.”

I tried to remember any school bombings in Europe or the US and came up blank.

“I don’t remember there being any bombings.”

“There were none. The CIA stopped them, thanks to Catarina.”

Well, fuck.

“Do you know Lincoln Parker?” Rhode went on.

Lincoln Parker was a former SEAL working for his brother Zane Lewis, also a former SEAL at a private security firm in Maryland.

“Ghost?” Jack asked, using Lincoln’s callsign.

“Yeah, his wife Jasmin was human intel. During her time in the Army she was known as the best. Six years ago she taught an investigative interviewing and advanced interrogation class at the Logan Institute. Catarina took that class. I called Linc, explained the situation, and he put his wife on the phone. Jasmin remembered Catarina. Not only did she remember her but when she heard Catarina was leaving the Army she tried to recruit her, but Catarina had already signed on with Homeland. A year later Jasmin heard Catarina wasn’t happy at Homeland, made another call but Catarina had accepted the position at the SOIB. Jasmin is itching to get Catarina on the Z Corps team.”

Jack whistled.

“High praise coming from Nightstalker. Rumor has it the woman likes no one.”

Jack wasn’t wrong. I’d met Jasmin a few times. She was a five foot nothing badass who had the attitude of Pit Bull.

My phone vibrated. I pulled it out, engaged the screen, and irately closed Atlee’s last text, and went to the new text from Joan.

“They’re on the way up,” I announced. “Thanks for the call, Rhode.”

“Something I didn’t put in the report. Jasmin’s only concern, but she was clear to point of it also proved her point that Catarina’s an asset to any team. She doesn’t follow orders, at least not to the letter. She goes her own way and follows her gut. Something the Army frowned on, the CIA exploited, Homeland couldn’t control, and now it’s yet to be determined what the Marshal Service thinks about her going rogue. This is how Jasmin thinks she’s going to get Catarina to join Z Corps. There are no rules, they’ll let her go her own way. Zane and his men operate in the gray and that’s where Catarina thrives.”

Jasmin may have loved that, but for me, it was going to be a problem.

There was a knock on the door. Jack ended the call while I went to let in the Marshals.

After introductions were made and pleasantries exchanged we were seated in the living area. It was Catarina who broke the silence.

“I’m not convinced this plan will work.”

My gaze went to Catarina’s two companions. Joan Heffner’s perfectly made-up face remained bland and if I didn’t know better I’d think she was bored. However, I’d worked with the woman on a few jobs; Joan kept her facial expression in check. She was hard to read but Tyree Miller hadn’t quite perfected the art. He’d given away his thoughts with a frown before he hid his disapproval.

“You don’t agree with Ms. Keys’ assessment?” I asked the man.

“I think she’s new to the project and is eager to make a name for herself.”

“Tell us how you really feel,” Catarina returned with a smile.

“I just did,” Tyree volleyed. “And you making a joke proves my point. You barged in, hadn’t been fully briefed, and have been attempting to scrap my mission from day one.”

His mission.

There it was—ego.

Catarina’s spine snapped straight and I had a feeling Tyree was in for a tongue lashing. Catarina didn’t disappoint.

“The first issue with your plan is you have no understanding of your target. You’ve given no consideration to what drives him and that’s where this whole operation is going to fall apart. You accuse me of wanting to make a name for myself when your ego is so inflated you’re unwilling to listen to reason when I’m the one who’ll be putting my ass on the line while you sit in a hotel room sorting through surveillance footage thinking you’re in charge.”

Catarina turned her sharp gaze my direction. “Martin Jackson is a thrill seeker. He was born into money. This is not a rags-to-riches scenario. The money doesn’t drive him. You going in flashing money with a hot woman on your arm will not entice Martin.”

“What will?” I queried.

“Me.”

“Of course that’s your answer,” Tyree spat.

Catarina ignored her teammate’s outburst, keeping her crystal-blue eyes on me.

“We have two women undercover. Neither has been able to get close to Martin. That’s because the coaching they’ve received goes against the profile. Martin enjoys the chase. He’ll fuck easy, he’ll own easy, he’ll sell easy, but he will not respect or trust it. The man craves the chase, the thrill of corrupting a sweet, innocent woman.”

I had no doubt the coaching the two undercover women had received came from Tyree.

“So, what’s your plan?” Jack joined the conversation.

“Beth brings me. I go to a party with her, play the innocent, doe-eyed friend who’s visiting from some Midwest small town. A fresh out-of-towner who is scared out of her mind.”

“And that will get us what? Weeks of waiting around for you to make your move?” Tyree interrupted. “The sale is happening in a week. We don’t have time for you to play Miss Innocent.”

“If Martin is there he’ll approach me in the first five minutes,” Catarina forcefully replied. “He’s driven by impulse. He’ll see what I want him to see and he’ll eat it up.”

“And you say I have an ego,” Tyree huffed.

That got Catarina’s attention.

Her eyes sliced back to Tyree and they narrowed.

“There’s your second issue—you don’t understand what drives me. It’s the deed, not the glory. I don’t tell the story, I do the work. You, on the other hand, are driven by praise. And when you don’t get that praise you sing it yourself. You have zero knowledge of social engineering yet you pretend you do because you cannot stand not being the smartest in the room. Normally, I don’t care what other people need to do to make themselves feel good. But when it’s me going out into the field, putting myself out there as bait to be owned and possibly trafficked, you bet your ass I care. Check yourself, Tyree, or I’m out and you lose Martin and the women he’s auctioning off. Even if Wilson gets an invite, he won’t get close to Martin.”

“Fuck—”

Joan intervened before Tyree could spew his insult. “Where does that leave Wilson?”

“He goes in as planned—a wealthy buyer. He has my back while I’m getting close to Martin and I feed him what I learn.”

“What exactly do you think you’ll learn in seven days that will help us take Martin’s operation down?”

“A lot. Everything. Men like Martin tend to forget the sweet, little, innocent woman is in the room. He’ll speak freely thinking I won’t understand what he’s saying. And besides, men get stupid after they’ve… you know.”

Catarina added a sultry smile to her inference, making sure Tyree didn’t misunderstand.

My reservations were waning.

“There’s a party tonight,” I put in. “I’ll go in, get the lay of the land, and tomorrow you go in.”

Catarina shook her head.

“We both go in tonight.”

“Why?”

“There’s no guarantee Martin will be at tomorrow’s get-together. He’s going to the race track with his entourage in the afternoon. He’ll need to blow off the adrenaline when he’s done and that will be my first in.”

Another disgusted grunt came from Tyree. Joan nodded her approval.

“Tonight,” I agreed.

“Now if we’re done I need a massage, nap, and a long, hot shower before I have to play nice with filth.”

Joan stood. Tyree reluctantly followed, looking like he wanted to protest.

Or more to the point, kick Catarina off the team.

After a quick goodbye, the Marshals left.

“I don’t think Jasmin will have a problem recruiting Catarina if that’s the status quo,” Jack quipped.

“You’re not wrong.”

I grabbed my abandoned tablet off the coffee table and opened Rhode’s report.

Jack stared at the chair Catarina had vacated.

I had less than five hours to learn everything I could about Catarina Keys and Martin Jackson.