“Now you sound paranoid, Giselle.”

  She smirked.

  “Paranoia will keep you alive, father. Sinegem has taught me that.”

  He looked at her wistfully. She had brought up her employer, the company of which he was a thirty percent owner. He measured his words before he spoke. He wanted to sting her a bit to see how she would react. He had always wanted to keep his children thinking analytically.

  “Has Sinegem also taught you to fall in love with assassins?” He knew he was taking a shot in the dark. He also knew his daughter well enough to know that any other man who had spent two days on a yacht with her under the circumstances would not have survived the encounter.

  She squinted and locked his eyes with a stare he recognized. He had not seen her that defensive since she decided she wanted to attend college in the United States.

  “If you are speaking of Mr. Monday, let me stop you Father. Mr. Monday and I have a mutual respect. He has refused my advances multiple times. I cannot love a man who cannot respond to my wiles.”

  Eilif snickered.

  “You also cannot resist such a man,” he quipped.

  “What do you mean?” Eilif could hear the hurt in her voice. He knew he had struck a chord.

  He shrugged.

  “I am merely saying that you cannot resist a man who can resist you. You are a conqueror, Giselle. You see such an affront as a challenge. I cannot foresee you merely giving up.”

  She furrowed her brow.

  “I will not be mocked, Father. I am not pursuing a lost cause.”

  “We are not talking about pursuit, Giselle. We are discussing conquest, winning. I mean you will either have him or kill him. Those are the only options for Mr. Monday.”

  She looked at him with a mixture of shock and curiosity.

  “You are saying that I should have already killed him.”

  He smirked. She could read his mind.

  “You certainly are not going to win him.”

  She sipped the champagne, her eyebrows raised. He could tell he had planted a seed.

  Chapter 6

  Put Me in Coach

  Jake sat on a leather couch, his hands on his knees. He stared out the window to the sun setting in the west. The US Secret Service New York field office was located in Brooklyn. Jake was doing his best to remember. So many details were fuzzy. In truth, he could not remember this place.

  Since the incident at Galbraith, he had been moved around the city via tunnels, armored cars, and had crossed the Brooklyn Bridge two hours ago in the company of a squad of the New York Police force and several officers from the Port Authority.

  Now, he sat in the empty office with his wife. He still could not wrap his mind around that relationship, either. With her help he tried to dredge up memories of her.

  “We live in a house where my grandfather used to live in Bronxville,” Hallie said. Her voice sounded hopeful.

  He and Hallie had been waiting on Kyle Evers, Special Agent in Charge of the field office for twenty minutes. Jake reached up and straightened his tie and glanced over at Hallie.

  A stranger. Yeah, a beautiful stranger, but he struggled with the implication that he could be married. Implication. Truth, probably. But what did that mean? What did this all say about him?

  “I tried to kill the President,” He said, his voice dead.

  Hallie stared out the window as well. She bit her lip.

  Jake shook his head.

  “I thought you said it was all coming back,” Hallie said, accusingly.

  He sighed.

  “The truth is, I want to remember,” he said, getting her attention. She turned to him, her eyes brimming with tears. “This reality seems preferable to the lie I was living.”

  She nodded and smiled.

  “Am I a good husband?” He did not know why this mattered to him.

  “When you are home, yes. And a great father. Macy misses you. I have been lying to her for the past two years.”

  “Two years,” Jake said. It came out as a harsh whisper. He took a deep breath and returned to looking at the carpet.

  “Evers will fill you in on all we know about you since you went dark,” Hallie said. He could tell she was doing her best to be supportive. He knew that she needed him to be fulfilling that role. He should remember her. How could he forget?

  “I don’t remember my parents.”

  Hallie hesitated. Her chin dipped.

  “I know.”

  “I killed a lot of people. How can I be an agent who protects?” There it was. His disbelief in a nutshell. If someone could answer that riddle, then maybe he could put off his doubts.

  Hallie put her hand on his leg. It was warm. He looked into her hazel eyes so full of pity. He did not want pity, he wanted answers.

  “Tell me how I ended up at Galbraith in the first place,” he demanded. Suddenly, he was angry and he was ashamed of it. Regardless, it was there, seething and raw.

  Hallie looked defensive.

  “Evers will tell you…”

  “I need you to tell me now,” he said. He chastised himself as he said it. He realized she did not deserve this. She deserved more from him. She deserved better than him.

  He saw the hurt in her eyes. He also saw her determination and her resolve.

  “Originally, you were investigating a counterfeiting operation they were protecting in Alabama. When we were transferred here, you went to Kyle Evers with a proposal to infiltrate Galbraith.”

  “Why would I do that and why would the Service care?”

  She shrugged.

  “You are impetuous and convincing. It sounded like an ideal way to get inside information for both protective services for our allies and a way to crack the counterfeiting ring,” she said. She shook her head and her hair fell around her neck.

  Jake realized with a jolt that he recognized her tone of voice. He accepted the heat of her logic and the sting of her words. That all felt familiar to him. Was that what being married felt like?

  “Two years ago we had no idea of the scope of their organization or their goals,” she continued. “At first, the information you were able to leak us was instrumental in assisting our efforts to protect our interests in China and Russia. We were getting close to earning their trust. Other agencies were coming to us to mine the information we had. Of course, the Service kept everything as clandestine as they could manage...”

  “Then what happened?” He asked.

  “We do not know. You went dark. We had correspondence with the FBI, the Department for Homeland Security, the NSA, and the CIA. No one had heard from you. Then you started turning up as a suspect in assassinations, murders, and information leaks. You had never changed your name. Everyone knows who you are.”

  Jake smiled ironically.

  “I’m a regular celebrity, huh?”

  “Infamous. But that was part of the problem, too. The other agencies, once they found out what we were doing, started to try to make their own infiltrations into Galbraith to mine information. We suspect that some of the cells there were also affecting Galbraith policies and setting targets.”

  Jake felt his anger well up. He realized that the feeling that he was being used was accurate. He was a chess piece. He was the Bishop, after all, instead of the Knight. His purpose was at a cross purpose to his real self. He could not help but feel resentment.

  “The CIA is known for its meddling.”

  Hallie nodded.

  “Look. We can speculate, but you really need to brief with Kyle. I can lose my job…”

  “I thought we are married. Can we not discuss it?”

  Hallie shrugged.

  “It is a grey area, but Kyle is a strong proponent of keeping things close to the vest.”

  “I see,” he said. “We better not take any chances, then.”

  Hallie stood up. She smoothed out her wool skirt. Her thighs were rock hard, he noticed.

  “Look, Jake. I need to get back home to Macy. I suspect that Evers will have you in conference until late. I will get dinner ready and…”

  “I don’t remember how to get home,” he said. He was not panicked, but the truth of his real life seemed to be a great weight upon his shoulders. He was having a more difficult time coming to grips with the truth of his life than with the lie.

  She smiled.

  “Tom Vickers is sticking around. He lives west of us over in Yonkers. He has agreed to bring you home,” Hallie said.

  He nodded. He tried to swallow his fear.

  “I will be fine,” he said, as much to himself as to Hallie. He could tell she needed to leave. Perhaps she had a different expectation of how this reunion would look.

  “We will be fine,” she said, grasping his hand.

  “Thanks for saving me, Hallie,” he said. This was truly sincere. Without her, he would have been dead. He would never have been prepared for the security team. He would never have expected to have a counter-assassin slide a blade between his ribs.

  “I will do it again,” she said.

  “I am sure you will have plenty of opportunities. Are you sure you don’t want to save me from Evers?”

  She shook her head, smiling.

  “No. You will have to be a big boy and face him on your own. He doesn’t bite, Jake. Be honest. And don’t be so spiteful with him. He isn’t as understanding as I am,” she counseled.

  He nodded, thoughtfully.

  “I will take that under advisement. I am testy.”

  Hallie cocked her head.

  “Just remember you are Jake Monday. You always have been.”

  “Easy for you to say.”

  She winked at him and turned to go. Soon, she was whisked away by the elevators and Jake was alone.

  He sat there for another dozen minutes. He wished they had not taken his cell phone. He needed something to do. Check some emails. Browse the internet. Look at his calendar.

  Solve a Sudoku puzzle.

  He heard a door at the end of the hall open.

  “Come on in,” he heard Kyle Evers say.

  Until Jake stood and turned down the hall, all he could see were Kyle’s scuffed Steve Madden loafers and his thin arm, the cuff of his blue dress shirt rolled up to the elbow. Evidently, regular working hours were over. Without his phone, all Jake could do was guess that it was past dinner. That presumption was mainly because of the dull emptiness he felt in his stomach.

  Jake followed him. Kyle turned after entering the office, holding the door with one hand and putting a reassuring hand on Jake’s shoulder.

  “Nice to have you back in the fold, Jake,” he said.

  Kyle was maybe a decade older than Jake, his hair thinning on top, his dress slightly sloppy. Worry lines at his mouth and eyes were indications to Jake that the New York field office assignment had led Kyle to long hours and plenty of stress.

  From what Jake understood--because he couldn’t remember—the New York office would be in the middle of both of the roles that the Secret Service performed. Not only was the proximity to the stock exchanges and banking important in their role as investigating counterfeit operations, but the regular meetings of diplomats, like the G20 Summit or the United Nations General Assembly, would require Evers’ office to handle the impossible task of protecting hundreds of diplomats, ambassadors, and other “highs.”

  “Thank you, Kyle,” he replied. Jake felt a strange sense of belonging. He gazed at the office, knowing that this all should feel familiar. It did not, but the sense that he was welcome persisted.

  “Have a seat,” Kyle walked behind the desk. It was immaculately cluttered. Stacks of paper and an array of electronic equipment were placed strategically and purposefully. Jake imagined that Kyle even folded his underwear and put them in a dresser drawer.

  As Jake sat in the standard issue cloth office chair, he placed his hands on the edge of Kyle’s desk. It was lacquered heavily and felt cold.

  “If I am who Hallie says I am, why did I just try to kill the President?” Jake blurted. He wanted to be put at ease. He desperately wanted to know the answer to this soul-wrenching question.

  Kyle turned serious. Jake watched as he turned the ring on his finger subconsciously.

  “Jake, I cannot answer that. Not the way you want. We believe that you were not aware of what you were doing. You have no motive. I can say you have been submitted to numerous mind-manipulating techniques and drugs.”

  “Drugs and brain washing cannot explain it. My morals would not allow me to do it.”

  Kyle smiled.

  “That is exactly it, Jake. See, you didn’t do it. Your morals would not allow you to do it.”

  Jake shook his head.

  “I don’t think it’s that simple, Agent Evers.”

  “Please, call me Kyle. Jake. What you went through was traumatic. Only a handful of agents would have survived what you endured.”

  “The brainwashing?”

  “Not just the fact that they altered your memories, Jake. We have information that leads us to believe that you may have been exposed to as many as three separate mild-altering programs.”

  “Three? But why.”

  “We cannot say at this time. One was Galbraith, obviously. The other was a partner Homeland Agency, and the third is only a speculation. It is the third one we are worried most about because we know the least.”

  “The CIA, then?”

  Kyle fluttered his eyes and sighed.

  “I guess it isn’t a secret that we have a rocky relationship with them. They want us to spy on foreign diplomats and ambassadors that we are protecting during the summits. We refuse. Plus, in the line of our protection, we have to recognize when a potential threat is really our cousins in the CIA just doing their job. You know how poor our communication can be.”

  “I don’t, but I will take your word for it.”

  Kyle shook his head.

  “You really don’t remember working here?”

  Jake looked around the room. He had witnessed a veritable soup of faces, people who shook his hand like they had known him, who addressed him and gave him well wishes. Everyone seemed genuine. He was welcome, but he felt separate as well. It was like he was living someone else’s life.

  “No. I don’t,” he said bluntly.

  “Jake, we have the best doctors in the world available to us. One of our psychologists is on call in case of emergency during our NSSE’s. I will give her a call in the morning and set up a time for you to meet her. Dr. Vrabek’s offices are in Manhattan. I am sure she could arrange to come over as early as Wednesday.”

  “What’s an NSSE?”

  Kyle chuckled.

  “I forgot you may not remember our lingo. It stands for National Special Security Event.”

  Jake nodded.

  “So, this third entity, the mystery agency, is a rogue outfit?”

  “Yes. From our investigations, we have found that someone has influence inside Galbraith. We suspect that they are one of their clients.”

  “That makes sense,” Jake replied.

  “Tell me what you know.”

  Jake fidgeted in the seat.

  “My memory is foggy. I am not a reliable source. But, for the past few months, it seems that some of Galbraith’s clients have been at each other’s throats or there has been internal strife.”

  “You can’t point fingers? Names, speculations?”

  Jake shook his head.

  “I am sorry. I can’t get past the idea that I was going to kill the President. Then, there is the woman who had handed me a silver locket on a thin chain. She died there in Atlanta. I think she was there to save me. Was her name Camilla?”

  Kyle seemed shocked.

  “You didn’t recognize her?”

  “Well, I remember I had met her on a plane ride to Los Angeles on New Year’s Day. Other than the fact that she had twisted her ankle and it swelled up to the size of a soft ball, I don’t know why she would have been in Atlanta. I don’t know why she would give me a locket.”

  Kyle nodded.

  “Her name was Camilla Cross. She was a CIA agent. We had been working with her to keep tabs on you. She was assigned to Galbraith after The Farm had connected them to the murder of a Chinese diplomat.”

  It was Jake’s turn to nod.

  “So, she was tailing me. Galbraith suspected as much. I was to go to Atlanta to trap my tail. Evidently, they had convinced me to do even more in the process. So, who killed her?”

  Kyle shrugged.

  “We don’t know. Second shooter theories out there suggest that an alternate trigger for the EMP devices you planted was used from a remote location. We pegged you there. We thought Camilla had you in hand. The next thing we knew, all electronics were fried. When we got a team down to the grounds, you were gone and Camilla dead. I have to admit, you were a suspect for the first twenty-four hours.”

  Jake whistled.

  “Look, Jake. I know you feel disoriented. I am sure you are grateful to be out of harm’s way. I am going to be completely up front with you. I am in a big jam here.”

  “You think I can help.”

  “I know you can. I know you want some answers. You have to realize there is pressure from the Deputy Director to cut your strings and let you and Hallie move on to the private sector. I am holding him off because I need your skills, your access.”

  Jake rolled his eyes. He was a chess piece here, too.

  “Kyle, I would love to help, but I am just discovering my real place here.”

  “Before you continue, Jake, I want to put you at ease. No pressure. Talk to Dr. Vrabek and see if she can help you get past these memory blocks. We will get that implant in your hip out in the morning, and have someone look at your arm. With Hallie and Macy’s help, maybe you will be back in the saddle again before long. When you are ready, I have an assignment for you.”

  Jake scratched his head.

  “I’m confused, Kyle. Why would you be so eager to have me back in the field? You have probably hundreds of agents and dozens of Special Agents at your disposal as well as the NYPD, if what I saw today was any indication. You can put any of those assets in play. Why am I valuable?”

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11