She's an Easy Target, page 1
part #2 of Quinton Target Series
ALSO BY DEAN ATWOOD
AGUA DE VALENCIA
THE RETREAT TOWER
THE SECRET TARGET
SHE’S AN EASY TARGET
Dean Atwood
Copyright © 2018 by Dean Atwood
All rights reserved. This book, or parts thereof, may not be produced in any form without permission.
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Acknowledgements
Thanks to Seth for designing the cover.
Chapter 1
It was after seven o’clock on a Friday night and Happy Hour at Miller’s Downtown had ended. Gradually, the early drinkers were leaving and being replaced by the evening dine and drink crowd. It was the first time in a month that Quinton Target and Blaire Saunders had walked the short distance from their townhouse to the outdoor mall in Charlottesville, Virginia to have dinner together.
It was a warm, summer evening but it wasn’t humid. They elected to sit at an outside table. Quinton watched Blaire as she stared blankly at the menu. He sensed there was something besides a dinner selection on her mind.
She lifted her head and said, “What?”
“You seemed distracted. What were you thinking about?”
“Nothing in particular. It’s been a long week at work. It’s taking me a while to unwind.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. You know there are things I’m not allowed to discuss with anyone outside of the NSA and that includes FBI agents like you.”
“Let’s not fall back into that trap of keeping things from each other and using the confidentiality requirements of our jobs as an excuse.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You don’t have to take frequent polygraphs like I do at the NSA.”
“I’m not asking you to share state secrets.”
“It’s not that black and white. The interrogators don’t just ask me whether I’ve stolen or leaked classified information, they grill me for hours about everything, including my sex life, to find out if I’m vulnerable and could be coerced into revealing sensitive data.”
“Well, it must be a pretty short discussion if you’re answering questions about our sex life, lately.”
Blaire looked shocked and hurt by his comment. Her eyes watered as she spoke. “I’m sorry I haven’t been more attentive to your needs,” she said.
“No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I know you’ve been under a lot of pressure. You should refuse to answer those kinds of personal questions. It’s sexual harassment.”
“Refusal to answer any question is grounds for termination. The same rules don’t apply to us that apply to ordinary employees. It’s not only acceptable for those administering the polygraph to ask embarrassing personal questions, it’s required.”
“Is that what’s bothering you? Did you fail a polygraph?”
“The last thing I need from you tonight is the third degree.”
“All I’m asking is that you don’t shut me out. I want to be there for you, but I can’t if you hide everything important in your life from me.”
“I’m not hiding anything from you,” she said defensively. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“I didn’t say you did anything wrong. But I can tell you’re worried about something. What is it?”
“All I want is for the two of us to enjoy a Friday night like a normal couple. Can’t we relax and forget about the NSA and FBI for a few hours?”
He took in a deep breath and held it for a moment before letting it out. “I can if you can,” he said. He placed his right hand on top of her hands, which were resting palms down on the table.
A young woman with a petite figure approached their table and flashed her pearly-white teeth in a smile that said, tip me well because I’m cute and friendly.
“Hi, I’m Lisa. I’ll be your server this evening. Can I get you something to drink while you look over the menu or are you ready to order?”
“I’ll have a Black Angus burger, fries, and a Bud Light draft,” Blaire said. “What do you want, QT?”
“I’ll have the same. Please bring the drinks first. We’ve had a tough week at work.”
“Tell me about it,” Lisa said. “This is the third double shift in a row for me.”
After the waitress left, QT said, “You’re living on the wild side tonight. Usually, you order the grilled chicken salad and a glass of wine.”
“I don’t want to be too predictable. You might get bored with me.”
“That’ll never happen.”
“I didn’t really think it was possible — but I’m beginning to wonder after your comment.”
The waitress brought their beers and said, “Is there anything else I can get you while you’re waiting for your meals? Would you like to order an appetizer?”
“No, but you can bring each of us another beer with our burgers when they’re ready,” Quinton said. “These will be gone by then.”
“You’ve got it,” she said and moved to the table next to them to take the orders from the guys sitting there. From the crude comments he’d overheard them making, Quinton had learned they were UVA students, taking summer classes. They were at Miller’s to get drunk and pick up girls, not necessarily in that order. They didn’t waste any time competing to gain favor with the cute waitress.
“You’re ordering our second beers before we’ve started our first ones? You do remember I have to go out for a work assignment for a few hours at ten tonight, don’t you?” Blaire said.
“It’s early yet. You’ll have time to sober up.”
“Are you trying to get me drunk, so you can have your way with me before I go to work?” Blaire said in a manner that indicated that she was half joking and half not.
“That’s not a bad idea. It would give you something interesting to talk about during your next polygraph. The only problem is that you can drink me under the —” He stopped before finishing his sentence and stared at a red, laser dot as it circled around Blaire’s left nipple and then her right before coming to a rest in the center of her chest.
She followed the path of his eyes to see what had captured his attention and her eyes widened when she saw the laser dot.
“Get down,” he said as he pulled his pistol from its case and pointed it toward a man standing in the walkway across from them, about sixty feet away, partially hidden behind a huge willow oak tree that was three feet in diameter.”
Blaire put her hand on Quinton’s shoulder and said, “Stop! I know that guy. He’s with the NSA.”
The man stepped away from the tree. He lifted a laser light pen into the air and waved it before putting it in his pocket. Quinton put his gun back into its holster. He looked around, expecting to see mass panic, but everyone seemed to be safe in their own little bubbles — eating, drinking, conversing, and ignoring the fact that he’d pointed a loaded gun at someone.
“I’m going to have a talk with that idiot. I could’ve killed him.”
“Let me handle it,” Blaire said.
“Why don’t you bring him over here and introduce him to me? We’ll both talk to him.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’re too hot under the collar.”
QT glanced at the man. He estimated that the guy was in his early forties. His hair was thinning, and he was slightly built except for a paunch that hung over his belt. Even from a distance QT could tell that his face was pitted, most likely from acne when he was a teenager.
“OK, we’ll do it your way, but signal me if you need my help.”
“That won’t be necessary. He’s annoying, but harmless.”
“I’m not convinced of that.”
Blaire got up from the table and moved slowly toward the man. The college guys at the table next to them turned their full attention to her. She was wearing white capri pants that accentuated every jut and curve of her buttocks. She gracefully swung her hips from side to side in a way that was seductive without being overdone. Her blonde hair was long enough for it to swish ever so slightly in rhythm with her hips.
When she reached the man, she positioned herself so that a side view of her was visible to QT. The Jazz coming from the live band playing inside Miller’s was loud enough to drown out their conversation, but QT could tell from her body language, she was scolding the man.
The guy made brief eye contact with Quinton before turning back to face Blaire, who was still chastising him. He put his hands on the sides of her upper arms and said something that appeared to be intended to calm her. It had the opposite effect. She raised her hands and slapped them hard on the tops of his arms. He released her, and she moved back a step to put distance between them.
Before QT had a chance to get out of his chair, Blaire looked at him and shook her head to tell him not to interfere.
With a smirk, the man put his hands up in the air in mock surrender. She said something to him and reached out her hand. He took the laser device out of his pocket and handed it to her. She squeezed it into the pocket of her tight capris and turned to leave. When her back was to him, he patted her on the butt and said something to her.
She spun around and grabbed his shirt in both of her hands, pulled him toward her, and drove h er knee between his legs. He crumpled to the ground and writhed in pain. She stood over him for a few seconds before calmly walking away with the same rhythm to her hips as when she’d approached him.
Quinton was out of his chair and on his way toward her. She lifted her hand to signal him to stop. The college boys, who were taking in the action, groaned and had pained looks on their faces when Blair’s knee made contact. It was as though they could feel the man’s agony. They started laughing and applauding Blaire’s performance.
When Blaire rejoined QT, he said, “Are you OK?”
“I’m good.”
“I was going to ask you if you wanted me to have a talk with him, but it looks like you explained things quite clearly. Where’d you learn those moves?”
“I reacted before thinking.”
“Do you want to leave?”
“Hell, no! I already told him he’s the one who needs to leave.”
“Who is that guy?”
“His name is Lucas Taylor ... He’s my new boss.”
“Your boss?”
“I don’t think I made a very good initial impression. What do you think?” she said wryly.
“I thought you demonstrated initiative,” QT said. He looked at Lucas who was carefully standing up and leaning against the tree. “Of course, your boss might not see it that way.”
Chapter 2
Lieutenant Mad and Dr. Bit walked side-by-side down Rugby Road. Each of them was waiting for the other to initiate the conversation. Dr. Bit broke the silence.
“You’ll like her when you meet her,” he said. “I’m sure of it.”
“Does she know I’m coming with you tonight?”
“Yes, she was insistent I invite you.”
“How was she aware I even exist?”
“I told her about you.”
“What did you tell her about me? You know how important it is for me to remain invisible.”
“I didn’t tell her you’re Lieutenant Madeline Frances Casey, formerly with US Army Military Intelligence, who is listed as deceased in all government intelligence databases, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Yes, I am worried about that. I’d like to stay anonymous and alive.”
“One night when she gave me a ride home, she noticed the light coming from your room and saw you walk by the window. What could I say? I told her a woman friend of mine lives in the room over my garage.”
“Did you tell her we aren’t romantically involved and never have been?”
“Yes, I told her we’re friends without benefits.”
“The woman isn’t the insane, possessive type, is she? I mean, she must be a little crazy if she’s dating you, but she isn’t going to go psycho when she sees us together, is she?”
“No, she’s perfectly sane. Wait until you see her. She’s gorgeous. I bet she’s never been jealous of another woman in her life.”
“That makes me suspicious. What does a woman like that see in a geek like you?” she said in a teasing way.
“It must be my chiseled body and manly vibes,” the tall, lanky Dr. Bit said as he raised his skinny arm to flex his atrophied bicep muscle.
“Yeah, right, I bet that’s what it is,” she said and they both laughed.
“What did you tell her about the projects that you and I work on with L. Ron and Rasputin?”
“Don’t worry, I didn’t tell her anything about our team’s covert activities. I’m not stupid.”
“How did you meet her?”
“It was quite by chance. I was sitting on a bench at the downtown mall one evening, typing away on my laptop, when this beautiful woman walks toward me. I felt like she was looking straight into my eyes in a sexy way. I couldn’t believe it. I looked behind me, thinking she must be staring at some other guy, but there was nobody else there.”
“Was she wearing thick glasses, bouncing a cane on the bricks, or walking with a seeing-eye-dog?”
“Very funny. She isn’t blind. She must’ve been attracted to me and couldn’t control herself.”
“I see,” Lieutenant Mad said. “Does that happen to you often?”
“... That’s the first time I’ve noticed. There have probably been more, but I’ve been too busy on my laptop to be aware of it,” he said with a smile.
“Let’s say for the sake of argument she was uncontrollably drawn to you. What happened next?”
“She asked if she could sit beside me on the bench and I said, ‘Sure’. After she sat down, she took out her laptop and asked me whether the Internet was available there. I told her which connection was the best one to piggyback and gave her the password.”
“She didn’t introduce herself?”
“I’m getting to that. After she made the Internet connection, she said, ‘Thanks for helping me. I’m Chloe Ripen. Do you come here often?’ It reminded me of a lame pickup line in a bar, except usually it’s the guy saying it to start a conversation.”
“And, you introduced yourself as Harold Bitner?”
“No, I didn’t want to scare her off. I told her everybody calls me Dr. Bit. You know how it is. Women form their initial opinion about a guy based on his name. A girl named Chloe would never go for a guy named Harold.”
“Only a shallow woman would worry about a man’s name, but I understand where you’re coming from. Tiger Woods probably didn’t introduce himself as Eldrick Woods to his mistresses.”
“Exactly.”
“How long ago did you meet her?”
“Two weeks.”
“I’m surprised you worked up the nerve to ask her on a date.”
“Well, actually I didn’t ask her out.”
“I thought you told me your relationship had moved beyond the plutonic stage.”
“It has. But I didn’t ask her out, she asked me out.”
“This is getting more unbelievable by the minute. Let me get this straight. A beautiful woman sees you at the downtown mall. She’s uncontrollably attracted to you, introduces herself, and asks you out on a date?”
“No, she didn’t ask me out the first time we met. After our first meeting, we randomly met at the downtown mall several times.”
“Don’t you think it’s a little strange that you kept running into each other?”
“No, I assumed it was fate bringing us together.”
“I think fate had a helping hand.”
“Does it really matter if it was fate or the woman arranged to run into me because she found me interesting?”
“Maybe it does, maybe it doesn’t.”
“Anyway, each time we met, we sat together and used our laptops. She said she liked hanging out with me because I have a good sense of humor and I’m smart.”
“Yeah, you’re a real charmer. No doubt about that,” the lieutenant said with a smile.
“I knew you’d be suspicious about her when you found out we were dating. That’s why I suggested you come with me and discover for yourself that she’s a regular person without any ulterior motives. A woman who — as strange is it may seem — finds me attractive.”
“When exactly did she ask you out on a date?”
“Last Friday, when we ran into each other again, she said, ‘This is getting freaky. Are you stalking me?’ I assured her I wasn’t following her around. She said, ‘Relax, I was kidding. Let’s make it official and go out on a real date tonight.’ So, we went to dinner and had a few drinks. One thing led to another and we spent the night at her place.”
“I assume it was her idea to take it to the next level, since she was so enamored with you?”
“I think it was her idea.”
“What do you mean, you think? Either it was her idea or yours or a joint decision.”
“I must’ve had too much to drink at the restaurant because the last thing I remember was Chloe asking me back to her place.”
“How do you know anything happened between the two of you once you got there?”
“I woke up on Saturday morning in her bed, wearing only my tighty-whities.”
“And, was she there in her lingerie?”
“No, there was a note on the nightstand from her. It said, ‘Thanks for a terrific night, lover. Please lock the door on the way out. Sorry, I wasn’t here when you woke up. I got called into my office.’ After I read her note, I put on my pants and T-shirt and I left.”
