Read Undercover Nightingale Online

Authors: Wendy Rosnau

Tags: #Suspense

Undercover Nightingale (12 page)

She grabbed the towel to shield herself. “Toriago? God, I’m glad to see you. I need your help.”

“What kind of help, Jaz?”

“Jaz? Why would you call me that?”

“Because I know who you are. You’re Jazmin Grant and you’ve been missing from the SDECE for months. Now I need some answers. The first one is who beat you up?”

She shook her head and backed up.

“Come on, Jaz, I’m here to help.”

She clutched the towel closer to her naked body. “The bruises are a little present from Filip. He wasn’t happy with me after you told him I used your phone and that we slept together.”

“I didn’t tell him that. I didn’t tell him anything.”

“Then how did he know?”

“I don’t know.”

Ash took the robe off the hook behind the door. “Here. Put this on.”

He helped her slip it on, and when she dropped the towel, he carefully tied the belt around her waist.

“Who’s the guy who’s been guarding me?”

“A friend of mine.” Ash waited, hoped she would start talking. When she didn’t say any more, he said, “Chanler says you’re a traitor. Are you?”

“No. Now I have a question for you. Who are you, Toriago, and why are you so interested in me?”

“Remember when I told you my offer had no time limit? Talk to me, and maybe I can keep you alive long enough to figure this mess out.”

“Ash.” Sly rapped on the door. “It’s Merrick on the phone. He wants to talk to you.”

“You’re Ash?”

If he had started to break a little ground, it had suddenly been shot to hell. The look on her face told him that they were going to have to start over.

So they would start over. When two people met for the first time there was usually an introduction.

He said, “Like you, I have two names. Right now you’re talking to Ash Kelly. I could be your worst nightmare, or your saving grace. It’s up to you, Jazmin Grant. Think on that while I’m gone.”

 

Ash disconnected the phone and set the cell on the desk, then he hit a button on Sly’s computer and waited a few seconds.

“We need to identify this guy,” he said as soon as the picture popped up. “The one you pulled from Chanler’s file.”

“Why didn’t you tell Merrick you have her?”

Ash turned. “We’re not going to get along too well, Sly, if you keep questioning every move I make. Once I have the whole story, I’ll show my hand. Handing Grant over now won’t get us the disk. She must know where it is.”

“Like I said, there are ways to make her talk.” Sly looked over his shoulder at the computer screen. “It’s going to be damn hard to identify him.”

“Maybe she can do it for us.”

“No time like the present.”

Ash saw Sly glance past him. He turned around, and there standing in the hall was Jazmin Grant.

He still couldn’t believe that Allegra Nightingale and Jazmin Grant were one and the same. But maybe she was having trouble buying his story, too.

She was clutching the front of her robe, and it reminded him of the damage that Petrov had done when he’d worked her over. Her stomach and ribs were a mass of black and purple bruises, and although she hid it well, she had to be in a lot of pain.

The crazy thing was, when he looked at her, he didn’t see a traitor. It didn’t matter who he was looking at. Neither identity fit the MO of a traitor. But then he’d been wrong about so many things, maybe he was wrong about this, too. What he wasn’t wrong about was those bruises. If she was a player on Petrov’s team, why the hell had he beaten her up? That didn’t make sense.

But it wasn’t enough to vindicate her. In fact, the proof was piling up against her, and if she didn’t start talking soon he would have no choice but to turn her over to Merrick and Stillman.

Hell, Merrick and Stillman working together? That was about as unbelievable as the rest of this mess.

Ash motioned her into the room. “I’ve got something here for you to take a look at.”

She walked slowly toward him. “What is it?”

“Do you remember when this picture was taken?”

She stopped next to him and stared down at the computer screen, then she looked from Sly to Ash. “That was while I was in Munich.”

“Doing what?”

“I don’t remember exactly. A mission, I suppose.”

“Recognize the guy walking away from you?” Ash asked.

She looked at the photo. “His name is Cyrus. I don’t think he ever told me his last name.”

Ash glanced at Sly. “Run the name.”

When Ash looked back at her, he saw she was again staring at the picture. Only this time, her hand was touching her face, examining her nose and cheeks, then following the shape of her lips.

Ash studied her expression. It was as if she was seeing a misplaced relative or friend that she had almost forgotten existed.

Finally, she said, “I’m tired. I’ll be in the bedroom.”

When she had left the room, Sly exploded. “Why didn’t you press her for more answers?”

“Did you see the way she looked at herself in that picture? Something’s not right. She’s processing this like she’s not sure what’s going on. I think she’s as confused as we are.”

“So what now?”

“Can you relieve Naldo for a few hours? I’ve got an errand I’d like him to run for me and I don’t want to leave Chanler unguarded.”

“I can do that. What are you planning?”

“I need to gain her trust.”

“That’s not going to happen, Ash. You’ve got to come up with something else here. Because that’s going to fly about as well as a bird with busted wings.”

“Break down the computer and work on finding out who Cyrus is while you’re keeping an eye on Chanler. Oh, and call Merrick back and tell him that we’ve identified the guy in the picture. See if Chanler can verify his identity, and put a last name on him.”

Chapter 11

T
wo hours later, his plan in motion, Ash slipped into the bedroom. “I know you’re not sleeping, so sit up and listen.”

She opened her eyes and sat up. “Time to torture me, Mr. Kelly?”

“Get dressed.”

“All I have to wear is that dress.” She motioned to the gold ball-buster she’d worn to the party at Ballvaro.

“It works for me. Put it on.”

She hesitated.

“I’ve seen you naked, bruises and all. Get dressed.”

“Why?”

“We’re getting out of here.”

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll find out soon enough. Get dressed, unless you want to wear that robe out of here.”

She didn’t argue further. She climbed off the bed, slipped out of the robe, and wearing nothing but a gold thong, picked up the dress and wiggled into it.

“I picked up your shoes where you left them at Ballvaro.” He motioned to them on the floor next to the desk.

It was close to midnight, and Sly was still babysitting Chanler—the ideal place for him to be while Ash disappeared with Jaz. He didn’t like leaving his friend in the dark, but right now he didn’t think Sly was going to agree to anything but handing Jaz over to Stillman, or pulling her fingernails out by the roots until she gave up the location of the disk.

He ushered her through the door, then draped his leather jacket over her shoulders. Naldo was in the living room, wearing a look of concern on his face.

He hadn’t been crazy about Ash’s idea from the moment he’d relayed it to his cousin, but unlike Sly, Naldo was used to playing by no rules. And when your back was up against the wall, sometimes that was the only way to play out your hand.

“You sure you want to do it this way,
primo
? Maybe I should come with you.”

“No. Hang around here for another hour, then go back to your room. If Sly’s still working on that name, leave him be. The longer he stays away from here the better. I don’t need him taking chase. I’ll be in touch.”

Ash walked to the door and opened it, then said to Naldo, “You know what to do. Be there on time.”

“Be where?” The question came from Jaz.

Ash didn’t answer her. Instead he handcuffed her wrist to his. “I read your profile. Never trust a woman who can outrun you and sprint a three-minute mile.”

 

The handcuffs had ruined Jaz’s plan to escape, and once they were in the limo, he’d cuffed her to the door, and added a blindfold.

Jaz tried to concentrate on the noises, but once they left the city, she had no idea what direction they were going.

“Don’t you think this is a little extreme?” she said from the backseat. She knew the window between the seats was down, and that he had no trouble hearing her.

“Like I said, I read your profile. I imagine so did your new boss.”

“He said that was why I was chosen.”

“Chosen?”

“Yes. For the undercover work. Where are we going?”

“To a place where we can be alone, and you can pull it together.”

“Pull what together?”

“Right now you’re a traitor in the eyes of the intelligence world. If you still maintain that you’re innocent of that accusation, I suggest you pull it together and start convincing me that you’re the victim in a plot of subterfuge.”

“Is that what you think I am?”

“You tell me.”

“You lost your accent.”

“It comes and goes depending on who I am. I’m sure you can relate to that. It seems on this mission, no one is who they seem to be.”

“And exactly who are you? Who do you work for?” Jaz asked.

“I’m the man who hasn’t convicted you yet. This Cyrus, do you know where I can find him?”

Jaz couldn’t answer that, not if she even wanted to. Ash Kelly might seem to be on her side, but she couldn’t trust him. How could she trust him after he’d handcuffed and blindfolded her?

“I’m risking my ass here, honey, on a hunch. It would be nice if you’d appreciate my efforts.”

“I never asked you to risk your ass. By the way, you never said who you work for.”

“The SDECE.”

“I don’t believe you.”

They had been driving a long time. It must have been close to an hour. Suddenly, the car slowed down, and then it stopped altogether.

Jaz heard a door open and when a crisp gust of cold air entered the backseat, she knew he’d gotten out of the limo. He was gone for several minutes, and when he came back he opened the back door and unlocked the handcuff from around the door handle.

Free, she pulled the blindfold off and looked around. In the distance she saw a small cabin surrounded by trees.

“Slide out. Careful. There’s snow on the ground.”

He wasn’t rough or hostile when he took hold of her arm. In fact, he was slow and careful as he helped her out of the backseat of the limo. He even put his hand on the top of her head to guide her out, and made sure his jacket remained around her shoulders.

“What do you think?” he said. “Like it?”

“What’s there to like? I’m stuck with you in the middle of nowhere.”

“Exactly. It’s perfect. Come on.”

He was leading her by the handcuff, and she swore when she nearly toppled on the ground after her shoe slipped.

“Damn shoes.”

“But they look great.”

“And keep me from running.”

“You read my mind.”

“I don’t believe that you’re SDECE. Filip recognized the name Toriago. And Salavich did, too.”

“We all have a past.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means, I was Marco Toriago a few years ago, and I wasn’t very nice.”

“Well, from where I’m standing nothing, has changed. Who do you think Cyrus is?”

“I think he’s an international criminal with a lot of power and money. He had to have both to pull this off.”

Jaz stopped. “He can’t be. You’re wrong.”

“Why?”

“Cyrus can’t be a criminal. He’s the head of an underground intelligence operation. He has to be.”

“I don’t think so.”

“He has to be! Don’t you understand? If he’s who you say he is, then I’m…”

“Now you’re getting it. I thought a drive and some time away would clear the cobwebs upstairs.”

Not all of them, Jaz thought, but she was starting to see a few things more clearly. And if Ash Kelly was right, and he was here because he believed her, then he was the only one she could trust.

The problem was, she didn’t do trust. Then why did she want to trust him so badly?

 

The Petnehazy was a complex of private bungalows for people who wanted to escape and enjoy being pampered, or at least that’s how the ad had read.

Ash had decided that if he could get Jaz alone maybe she would open up to him. Sly meant well, but he was an in-your-face kind of guy, and in this case what Jazmin Grant needed was a gentler approach.

More than ever Ash was convinced that Jaz had been the pawn in some bizarre plot. A criminal plot designed by a man named Cyrus.

He had only a few hours to figure it all out. He damn well hoped that he wasn’t thinking with another part of his body instead of his head, as Sly had suggested.

It was true he had feelings for Jazmin Grant. No, he had feelings for Allegra Nightingale. If Jazmin Grant had been used as a pawn, then they were one and the same.

To prove that she wasn’t a traitor, she was going to have to work with him, not against him.

He only hoped that there was time enough for her to see that.

He pulled a key from his pocket and opened the bungalow he’d had Naldo rent. He flipped on the light and then pulled her inside and closed the door.

“This is home until tomorrow, Jaz. Just you and me.”

She looked around, then pulled his jacket from her shoulders. “Where is this place?”

“If I wanted you to know that, I wouldn’t have blindfolded you.”

She turned. “Your real name is…”

“My birth name is Marco Toriago. Today I’m Ash Kelly, SDECE.”

“What’s in a name, right?”

“We both have a couple, it’s true. But who we are underneath is what counts. And that’s what we’re here to find out. There’s not much time, and I know you don’t
do
trust. You do cause and effect. So here is the scenario. You stole a disk from the SDECE
causing
them to become vulnerable to an international criminal. The
effect
of that act will collapse the SDECE, and will ultimately get you killed in the end if you did it knowing that the choice you made was seditious. We’re here to prove that you were either a willing participant, or that you were blinded by one man’s treachery. Again, I’ll tell you that I want to believe that an agent with a spotless record wouldn’t succumb to treason. Am I wrong?”

“No. You’re not wrong. I’m no traitor.”

“Good.”

“That’s it? You believe me just like that?”

“I want to believe you, so let’s go with that for now.”

He saw her press her hand into her side, and it reminded him that she was still battling the effects of Filip’s beating.

“Here, let’s get you out of that dress and into the whirlpool.”

She looked at him as if he was joking.

“I did the research. I’m told the mineral spas here do wonders for an aching body. Maybe once you start feeling more like yourself, you’ll start thinking more like Jaz Grant.”

Ash stepped forward and unzipped the back of her dress. “I’m sure you can take it from there. I’ll start a fire and get the jets going in the whirlpool. Would you like some wine, or a martini? Gin, right?”

 

“He did what!”

Merrick was livid.

“I should have expected it,” Sly said over the phone. “He wasn’t acting like himself. I should have suspected something when he didn’t tell you we had Jazmin Grant.”

Merrick looked over his shoulder at Stillman, who was boring a hole in his back. He walked away and lowered his voice. “He has Grant?”

“Yes. And we have Chanler.”

“He’s alive, too.”

“Yes.”

This time Merrick turned to Stillman and pointed. “You’ve got more explaining to do.”

To Sly, he said, “So what’s the plan?”

“Plan? Ah, I haven’t got one yet. I was hoping I’d hear from Ash soon.”

“You think that’s going to happen?”

“I’m hopeful.”

“Now we’re working on hope. I’ll be sure to put that in my report. I think it’ll be a first.”

“At the moment, that’s the best I’ve got.”

“Well, your best sucks.”

“This is so screwed up it’s going to take a psychic to figure it out. Something else you should know. She identified the guy in the picture.”

“Who is it?”

“She called him Cyrus.”

Merrick’s stomach did a complete flip, and he swore his heart stopped for several seconds. “You’re sure she said Cyrus?”

“I’m sure. Chanler can’t identify him, so we have to go on her word.”

“A traitor’s word?”

“Ash thinks she’d been sucked in somehow. I think that’s why he took off with her. He’s not convinced this is just a case of an agent gone bad. You still there?”

Merrick’s world was still spinning after hearing the name. It couldn’t be
his
Cyrus. That was impossible.

“Merrick, are you there?”

“I’m here.”

“The name Cyrus…it sounds familiar. Wasn’t that the name of one of your old teammates years ago?”

“Yes. Someone else who is supposed to be dead.”

“Do you think she’s right?”

“Do I think Cyrus Krizova is alive? Yesterday I would have said no. Today I’m not sure of anything. When Ash makes contact with you tell him to call me.”

Merrick hung up the phone and turned to Stillman. “Chanler’s alive. How long have you known that?”

“He’s alive?”

“Cut the crap.”

“I’m as surprised by the news as you are. Where is he?”

“In Budapest with one of my men.”

“Then we go to Budapest.”

“No, not yet. We wait for—” Merrick’s phone went off again. Thinking it might be Ash, he answered quickly. “Merrick here.” He paused.

“What? When? How many dead?”

Merrick’s gut did another flip as he was relayed the information.

“They say it was a gas leak. That’s bull. I’ll be on the next flight.”

When he disconnected this time he sat down.

“What’s going on, Merrick?”

“My apartment building in Washington. Someone blew it up tonight.”

“I thought I heard ‘gas leak’?”

“It was no gas leak.”

The minute he said the words, he was punching in another set of numbers on his phone. Sarah. Oh, God. She would have gone to feed the cat after work.

 

Wanting to trust someone and being able to were two different things. But if Ash Kelly was right? Then she’d been a pawn in Cyrus’s plot to destroy the SDECE.

All the old loyalties were rushing back now. All Jaz’s memories of her life at the SDECE. How had she been so willing to forget them all, or had that been part of his plan?

You were chosen. The best of the best. It’s an honor, Nightingale
.

Her greatest fear was not remembering what he had stolen from her. Everything was fragmented. And what if that was part of the beauty of it all, that she would never be able to fit the pieces together?

She heard the whirlpool start up and turned to see Ash Kelly squatting beside the sunken tub.

He looked up. “I’ve seen you naked, so you don’t have to be shy with me.”

“You have not seen me naked.”

He grinned. “It’s a little late to be modest, don’t you think?”

“That’s right, you’re not into skinny women.”

“Who told you that?”

“You didn’t like what you saw the last time, and nothing’s changed.”

He stood, and pulled off his sweater. He was all muscle, and she remembered what it felt like to touch him. It was crazy how he had slipped into her life so easily. She was no longer afraid to trust him.

Of all people, why would she trust a man who had two different names and carried explosives around like Life Savers?

Of all people, why would
he
trust a woman with two different names, and two faces?

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