The room on the military base is just like any other classroom I've been to and only the handful of people scattered around suggests that the meeting is different from the usual training session. The civilian-dressed men outnumber the uniformed ones four to two, though it has been clear from the start that the tall dude who introduced himself as Colonel Partright is the one in charge. I, as the only female, stick out, not only because of my gender but also because of my age. Except for Devon, they are ancient.

Originally, the meeting was meant to finalize the timeline and logistics of the mission, that is until Devon insisted that the CIA will be taking charge since I'm their asset. The others disagreed. They've been arguing without paying attention to me, their priorities clashing at every single angle. A heavyset guy with a round red face, whose head couldn't have seen hair for a very long time, has been especially upset with everyone ganging up on him.

"This is ridiculous," he squeals, a statement that seems to be part of his favored vocabulary.

I have to bite my lip not to burst out laughing. Every time he mutters the words, his face turns redder. A vein pulsing on the side of his head is ready to burst. "She has neither the skills nor the training to pull this off. She's gonna botch the whole operation."

"Calm down, Harold." Devon's voice is soothing, as if he's talking to a spoiled boy. He probably fears the man will have a stroke if he doesn't compose himself. "The DEA has been taking most of the pie for months, thanks to information provided by my agency, so let someone else gain laurels for a change."

I snort, dying to remind everyone that he would have zilch if it weren't for me. If I hadn't broken into my husband's computer and downloaded all the information about his cocaine-producing organization and distribution channels, none of those drug busts would've happened.

Harold grumbles under his breath and lashes out again. "We don't even know if Araya has a way of contacting the Coyote. This is a random shot. Three more months and we'll have infiltrated the Colombian Floreñas cartel. It's the break we've been looking for, which will probably never arise again." He dabs the sweat off his red face with a handkerchief.

Contrary to Indiana, the heat has been beating down on the state of Florida, which is the only thing I know about my current whereabouts. When I asked him where we were going, Devon was quite secretive, snapping that this was classified. Ever since he made contact, he has been on edge. He's probably under a lot of pressure. After meeting Harold, I can't even blame him.

"Global terrorism takes priority over drug matters," the colonel snarls. Every time he speaks, a cold shudder runs down my spine. He reminds me of General Varela, though appearance-wise, they are total opposites. Must be the military aura that high-ranking officers display.

The decibel level in the room explodes as everyone talks at once. Only a civilian guy standing by the window with his back turned to us remains silent. I wiggle to find a more comfortable spot in the chair, watching the spectacle with a snicker. This is better than the average soap opera. Just the popcorn is missing.

Window Guy finally seizes the opportunity when his "Quiet, gentlemen" breaks through a rare moment of silence.

To my surprise, everyone, including Harold, obeys. When Window Guy turns around and his steely gray eyes lock with mine, I revise my opinion about Colonel Partright. Window Guy is definitely the one in charge.

"May I remind you that there's a civilian in the room. By God, show some professionalism." His voice is flat and cold, sending goose bumps across my arms. "Besides, the final decision is already made. This meeting is designed to iron out the specifics and not to argue moot points."

"But the girl—" Harold starts again before one dark look from Window Guy shuts him up.

"The girl will get a babysitter to make sure she stays on track."

My brows arch, earning me a smirk.

"All that is expected of you, Ms. Degray, is to return to Malaguay and gain Araya's trust. How difficult can that be?"

There's no way he could've met Tomás. "With all due respect, Mr."—I give him a curt smile—"sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"Smith."

"Yes, Mr. Smith, not sure if you've ever been to Malaguay, but people do not just hand out trust like candy. Tomás is really paranoid and thinks that most people are scum. It'll be impossible to break through his defenses, especially if I just show up out of the blue."

He snorts. "Come on, Ms. Degray. You're a young and beautiful woman. I'm sure you'll find a way to wrap him around your little finger."

My jaw drops as I gaze at Devon for help. "You don't really expect me to seduce Tomás, do you?"

All six men stare at me with sullen faces.

I laugh. "Well, that's not gonna happen. I don't believe in having sex with guys just to further my cause."

Mr. Smith quirks a brow and his attention shifts to Devon. "I thought you said she was on board."

Sudden tension fills the air, leaving no space to breathe.

"Could you please give us the room?" Even though Devon's gaze is on me, I have no doubt he means his companions.

They file out, one by one, each giving me nasty looks of different calibers, starting with Harold's death glare and ending with pity eyes from Colonel Partright. Only Mr. Smith's face is blank.

"Too much preparation has already gone into this, so get it done, O'Farrell," he growls. The door closes behind him with a bang.

Turning to Devon, I narrow my eyes. "I guess you have some explaining to do."

"You see." His smile turns sheepish. "The plan is to throw Tomás into turmoil so he'll attempt an overthrow. For that, he needs weapons. Since he can't go to any of his usual suppliers without Varela knowing, he'll have to turn to the black market. Once that happens, you need to suggest that the Coyote will be his most suitable supplier."

I stare at him. Granted, it sounds simple, but that's exactly my concern. "How are you going to toss Tomás into a turmoil? He is the most controlled person I know."

"For the moment, that's classified and you shouldn't worry about it."

"He's very loyal to General Varela. I can't see him—"

"Like I said, that part of the plan shouldn't be your concern. Just go with the flow."

That's easy for him to say. When things go down, he won't be the one stumbling helplessly around in the dark. "Okay, let's say you get Tomás to a point where he turns his back on Varela. What makes you think he'd share his plans with me?"

"Well, that's a bit trickier. He'll only do that if you've managed to gain his trust."

I laugh. "Devon, Tomás doesn't trust anyone. Why would I be any different?"

His grimace is pained. "We got some intel that suggests Tomás might have the hots for you."

That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. "What type of intel?"

"That's also classified, but the source is reliable."

"So I guess I should just go with the flow there, too, and seduce him."

"That's the general idea."

If that's his plan, it's destined to fail. "Devon, this is never going to work. Tomás is way too good at reading people. Not only will he be able to tell that I'm insincere, but he'll also get suspicious if I come on to him out of the blue. He knows that's totally out of character for me."

"Fair point." Devon lets out a frustrated puff. "What do you suggest?"

"You're coming at this from the wrong angle. Tomás needs to respect me before he'll trust me." Granted, that might be just as tough as seducing him, but at least it doesn't go against my morals.

Devon puckers his lips as if he's pondering my words. "I tell you what. Let me talk to our analysts again and see what else they can come up with. For now, we've scheduled training for you, so we have some time to realign. How does that sound?"

My smile is slow. "I guess I can do training."

He claps his hands with a wide grin. "Then let's go."

~~~~

The drive in the Jeep with tinted windows is short enough that we could've walked. Just as before, he holds me back until the woman who works with him gives the signal that the coast is clear. She constantly chews gum and stares at me with those blank eyes I find absolutely creepy. It's as if she is dead already.

We end up in a small building that reminds me of a converted garage. I catch a glimpse of a small bedroom with a bunkbed next to a tiny kitchen. Devon ushers me into a bare room furnished with nothing but a desk and three chairs. As we walk in, two men stand, one of them smiling, the other with a face chiseled in stone. I recognize them both; they were part of the team that got me out of Malaguay the night the mansion was raided and Miguel killed. It's Brody, aka Shadow Chaser, and his grumpy sergeant major.

Devon drops my duffel bag holding the few belongings I've gathered over the past three days on the ground. "Not sure if you've already officially met. This is Sergeant Major Daniel Huxley, and this is Staff Sergeant Brody Griffin."

Giving me a once-over, Daniel smirks, probably already picturing how best to torment me during training. Just as before, he's unshaven and wears his hair at an unnatural length for a Marine, though his uniform is impeccable this time. My gaze gets stuck on the medal pinned to the front of his shirt. I've since learned that it's the Purple Heart—a special award for those wounded or killed in battle. What did he get it for?

Devon's hand lands on my shoulder. "Sergeant Huxley, I hereby turn Ms. Degray over to you. I expect her back in one piece and fully prepared. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then good luck, Stacy."

Without another glance, Devon turns on his heel and leaves. The woman is right behind him. I can't shake the feeling that he's trying to get away from me before I can change my mind or ask him a bunch of questions.

With a hesitant smile, I focus on Daniel. "I guess it's just us."

He blinks at me with irritation. "Let me show you to your quarters."

Brody smiles at me as soon as Daniel has turned his back on us. At least there's one friendly face. The tour doesn't take long; the only addition to the bedroom and the kitchen is a bathroom that is so narrow I can barely turn around. Yet what is most disturbing is that none of the rooms have a window. The idea of being confined to this small space like a caged animal doesn't sit well with me.

"How long do I have to stay here?"

"Training is scheduled for four weeks. Since your presence on this base is classified, you are not allowed to leave your quarters."

I frown. "How will that work with the training?" The room with the table isn't even big enough to run drills.

Daniel stares at me as if I've lost my mind. "Not sure if I follow."

"For the training. I mean, don't we need a gym? Or at least some trail to run? And what about weapons training?" I can't wait to shoot a gun again. The thrill. It's something I've been looking forward to since Devon reentered my life.

The smile that twitches on Daniel's lips is almost vicious. "It's not that type of training."

"It's not?"

"No, Degray. The idea is that you were captured by the rebels and have been a prisoner these past months. I'll make sure you are mentally prepared, but there is zero need for physical training."

"Oh, okay." I gaze around the confined quarters. They seem even more restrictive than before. Suffocating, really. "So I won't get to go outside?"

"No. Your day will consist of getting up at five, training, eating what we feed you, training some more, eating again, taking a shower, and going to bed. That's it."

I smile at him to gloss over my shock. Devon should've told me that I'm being held like a prisoner. "Have you ever considered designing brochures for a holiday destination?"

Not even the slightest hint of amusement reflects off Daniel's face. "If you don't like this setup, you can bitch to the colonel. I doubt he'll give you the time of day, though, considering he doesn't like the CIA using his military base as their personal playground. For now, we've wasted enough time and should get started. You have ten minutes to unpack and freshen up."

As he slams the door closed behind him, the door frame vibrates. I gaze at Brody with a grimace. "I guess he doesn't like me much."

"Don't take it personally. It usually takes him some time to warm up to people." Brody tosses me a goofy grin sucking some of the hostility out of the room. I'm glad he's assigned to my training.

Unzipping the duffel, I unpack. Four uniform shirts, two pairs of pants, underwear, and T-shirts. All government issued. Devon confiscated the few personal things I took from my home, including my phone with my pictures, claiming those could distract me. A lump forms in my throat. When I told her I was leaving without giving her an idea of when I'd be back, my mom had been in this déjà-vu frenzy. Her hug had been so tight that I was scared she'd squeeze the life out of me. Dad had dared to ask where I was going, just to be fobbed off with a vague "I need some space to figure things out." Devon was standing in the doorway with a grim expression and they probably thought I was in trouble again. Now I can't even text them to let them know I'm okay.

"Is it always like this?"

Brody, who was staring at a spot on the wall, refocuses on me. "Like what?"

"That they keep you in the dark when you're working these types of missions."

"Most assignments are need-to-know basis, which means they only tell you what is absolutely necessary. I know this can be frustrating, but it's easiest to just go with the flow."

Same advice as Devon's. Maybe I should follow that for now. After all, what choice do I have? Daniel will be the last one to answer my questions. "I guess we should start with my training."

~~~~

Hours later, I regret this decision. The stifling air in the small room has given me a headache. Daniel shoots off question after question about my childhood; when he refuses to give me water before my scheduled break, I finally snap.

"Why do you want to know every little detail about my family?"

"It's to establish the baseline, Degray. I need to know your facial expressions and body language when you are telling the truth. Only then can I help you to do the same when you lie. It's crucial for a strong cover."

I sigh. "Okay, then."

He continues until my head is buzzing. One of the rapid fired questions hits me totally out of the blue. "Tell me about your last night with Miguel Rizo."

"The night he died?"

"Yes."

"Well." It's a memory I banished to the depths of my mind and even searching for it is painful. "There was an attack on the compound."

"No, before that. What did you do that day?"

We had gotten up, eaten breakfast, and gone to the compound. The whole time Miguel was typing on his computer and I was bored out of my mind. Pearson's visit was the highlight of that day. "We just did our usual routine."

Daniel rolls his eyes. "Okay, we'll get to that later. Did you have sex that night?"

My cheeks sting and I lower my gaze. "That's none of your business."

"Everything is my business, Degray. During this type of training, you are the property of the US government. You can't hide anything, because if you do, you are already dead. Tomás Araya will not hesitate to shoot you in the head if he feels you are bullshitting him."

Finally, a point we agree on. Yet talking to Daniel about my most private moments is unthinkable. "No, we didn't have sex."

He slams his flat hand on the table. "Now that was a lie. And do you have any idea how I knew that?"

I shake my head.

"Because you purposely avoided my gaze. That's the biggest rookie mistake in the book. Even little children know that." He gets up and squats next to my chair. "Tell me, Degray. How often have you lied in the past?"

I can count the times on both hands, and they were mostly to fool Miguel when I feared for my life. "I don't recall."

"Another lie, but I'll let that one slide. Now be truthful—did you and your husband have sex the night he died?"

"Yes." The embarrassment burns hot in my face.

"And did you enjoy it?"

I purposely make eye contact with him. "Yes, I did."

He clicks his tongue. "That was better but still not good enough. What did he do that turned you off?"

No way I'll go into more detail. "What do you want from me?"

"I want you to realize that you have one shot at this."

"Okay, fair enough, but Tomás would never ask me something like that and expect an honest answer. That's not the type of relationship we have."

Daniel smirks. "Oh no? What type of relationship do you have?"

I instinctively touch my lips. Tomás's kiss is still as vivid in my mind as it was the day it happened. "Let's just say he doesn't need to ask me questions about Miguel. He already knows."

"Interesting." Daniel pulls himself back to his feet. "I'm looking forward to finding out for myself."

I can't hold his mocking gaze. "Can we take a break? I'm really thirsty and need to use the bathroom."

"Fat chance. There's still tons of ground to cover today. Now, let's take this from the top."

~~~~

© Sal Mason 2016

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