Foreign Agent

CHAPTER 64

Do you like it?” Rebecca asked, turning in a slow circle in the center of the hotel room. “It’s called a basque.”

Joe Edwards didn’t care what it was called. It was hot. He swallowed and nodded at the same time. God, she was amazing.

Rebecca bit her bottom lip as she looked at him. The lacy white basque was like a form-fitting corset that extended down over her hips. It ended in frilly garters that were attached to a pair of sheer stockings. She beckoned with her index finger for him to come to her and he obeyed.

She pressed her lips against his and pulled him onto the bed. They had never done a “nooner” before. The room had cost her a lot of money. She hoped it would be worth it.

He was clumsy undressing her. He was always clumsy. He was also a lousy lay. But at least he was quick.

Once they were both undressed, she rubbed her body against his. It drove him wild with desire. Sometimes he had to tell her to slow down. There were times when she could make him almost too hot.

Kissing down his chest, she positioned herself right between his legs, stopping when she got to his navel. Slowly, she traced her tongue around it. She could feel him pressing against her chest. He wanted her, badly.

And she was prepared to let him take her, but there was something she needed from him first. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this.”

Joe snaked toward the headboard in order to get Rebecca’s mouth right where he wanted it. “Yes, we should,” he whispered, as he ran his fingers through her hair and pressed her head lower.

She could feel him against her throat. “You got me in trouble.”

“Shhhhhh.”

“I’m serious,” she replied, licking a little bit beneath his belly button. “My boss isn’t happy with me.”

Moving his hands from the top of her head to the sides of her face, he stopped everything. “Is that why we’re here?”

Rebecca smiled and slid a little lower. “Of course not. I wanted to see you.”

He stopped her. “Seriously. What’s this about? What happened with Wells?”

“It’s about Secretary Devon.”

“What about him?”

“Wells couldn’t confirm what you told me about the attack in Turkey. You know, that the White House knew about it in advance.”

“Jesus, Rebecca,” he said wiggling out from underneath her, the mood killed.

Reaching over the side of the bed, he fished his e-cig from his jacket that was crumpled on the floor.

“What?” she demurred.

Stuffing a couple of pillows behind his head, he propped himself up against the headboard and took a puff.

Exhaling the vapor, he pressed his palm against his forehead. “Of course he can’t confirm it. Only the President and the Director of Central Intelligence knew about it. Outside a couple of their closest advisers, no one else knew.”

“You’re sure about that?”

“I read the actual memo. I read all of their memos — and then some. You know that. Where do you think I get everything?”

Rebecca knew exactly where he got everything. He was one of the CIA’s top IT people. He was also brilliant at connecting dots. In the intelligence world, what was said was just as important as what was not said. Thirty-three-year-old Joe Edwards was a master at putting together the big picture, even when half the puzzle pieces were missing.

His parents and even his grandparents had been either career intelligence or career civil service. It had been an honor for all of them, even Joe, to serve their country.

But D.C. had changed. America, in Joe’s opinion, had changed. It had lost its way. It had let him down.

As he looked around him and saw broken promise after broken promise, he began to question what he was doing and whom he was doing it for. This wasn’t what he wanted. It wasn’t what he had signed up for.

He had wanted to make the world a better place. Instead, he was employed by a corrupt oligarchy intent upon bending the world to its will. Other countries and other cultures had value only in direct proportion to what they could do for the United States. It was bullshit — all of it.

That’s what he loved about Senator Wells. He saw in him a man who could change Washington. He could change the whole game. He had the guts to burn it all to the ground and rebuild it from the ashes — the way it should be. And Joe was honored to play a part in it.

The fact that Rebecca saw the world the way that he did was icing on the cake. They were made for each other. That was obvious from the get-go.

He understood why she needed to keep their relationship secret. Washington was full of haters, people who liked to tear good things apart.

Despite how busy she was, she always found time to see him. He knew a lot of it had to do with the sex. She always raved about how fantastic he was.

He’d never thought of himself as a monster in bed until her. She just drew the beast out in him.

They were completely in sync in so many ways, but the most important was their vision for the country.

Senator Wells had a very good chance of becoming the next President. If he did, he would be taking Rebecca with him. And if she went with Wells, she would be bringing Joe.

Rebecca was Joe’s golden ticket. The opportunities at the White House were boundless. The good he could do was beyond measure. He could help steer America back on track, back to where he knew it was meant to be.

Whatever it took, he was willing. That was why he had offered to help her, to help Wells.

Of course, she had turned him down. Rebecca had not liked the thought of dealing in classified information. Joe, though, had put her at ease — even if it had involved bending the truth.

Her boss was the Chairman of the Senate Intelligence Committee. There wasn’t anything he was sharing with her that Wells didn’t have every right to know.

It was all aboveboard. Not that Rebecca could talk about it publicly. That was out of the question. All Joe had asked was that if, God willing, they made it to the White House, they would take him along.

Rebecca, of course, had said yes. In fact, she had done more than just say yes. She had described in wonderful detail all the things they would be able to do together once Wells was in the Oval Office.

While he found them all inspiring, his naughty idea of what they could do on Air Force One was something he thought could be a first in American history, and he was very much looking forward to it.

Rebecca crawled up next to him and laid her head upon his chest. “You know how the Senator is. He puts a tremendous amount of pressure on everyone.”

“But especially his Chief of Staff.”

She nodded, her soft hair brushing against his skin.

“Well, what if I could give you something even better? Even bigger than the Devon information?”

Rebecca looked up at him and smiled. “What would it cost me?”

Joe Edwards put his e-cig on the nightstand and turned back toward her. “That depends,” he said. “Where were we?”

Twenty-five minutes later, Rebecca Ritter exited the hotel and turned left, heading for a sleepy café about six blocks away. The afternoon air was warm. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. It was perfect walking weather.

She almost thought she could smell the cherry blossoms from the Tidal Basin.

If what Joe Edwards had just told her was true, and she had no reason to believe it wasn’t, she had landed yet another exceptional piece of intelligence. Her handler was going to be very interested in what she had to report.

Up ahead was a collection of retail shops. One of the stores had a rear door that led into a parking garage.

From there, she could access the next street over and check to make sure no one was following her. Crossing the intersection, she headed for it.

As she did, the man who had been following her at a distance spoke into a small microphone and told his team to keep an eye on the garage.