The Ares Decision

25

There she was.

Brandon examined the woman waiting for the elevator and, when he was satisfied that she wasn’t on speaking terms with any of the people around her, moved in.

As his discomfort with the Uganda operation had grown, he’d begun quietly researching people he could go to if he decided he was in over his head. His work with Drake allowed him access to the CIA’s database well beyond his pay grade and he’d managed to come up with a short list of tough operatives with extensive experience and reputations for unshakable integrity.

Despite looking like she was still in her midthirties, the woman in front of him was a minor legend at the agency. He’d initially disregarded her because she was posted in Afghanistan but then heard she was back stateside sitting out the backlash over the death of a Taliban leader she’d tracked into the Hindu Kush. Maybe his luck was finally changing.

The elevator door opened and he shuffled in, staying close enough to her that he could smell the shampoo in her short blond hair. The athletic body, full lips, and tanned skin were undoubtedly significant assets in her work but a clear liability to him. The surreptitious glances of the men in the elevator weren’t going to make what he’d come to do any easier.

Gazenga fought for a position beside her in the crowded space, watching in his peripheral vision as she fixed her dark eyes on the floor numbers counting down.

The elevator stopped with a jerk and he used it as an excuse to bump into her, slipping a note into the pocket of her jacket as he did so.

She turned slightly, black eyes wandering along the side of his face and giving him a sudden overwhelming sense of claustrophobia. At the last moment, he pushed through the people in front of him and out the closing doors. The hallway was nearly empty and he concentrated on controlling his breathing as a duct overhead blew cool air across his sweaty skin.

He hadn’t lost his nerve. He’d done it. But for some reason the sense of relief he’d anticipated didn’t materialize. If anything, the sensation of being trapped continued to tighten around his chest.

With that note, he’d irretrievably stepped off the diving board. All he could do now was hope the pool had water in it.