So, what was he really doing in El Salvador for the CIA? Spying? Was my father an active agent? It appears so. I try for the thirty-fifth time to get in some backdoor to find the information. I have a degree in IT, and my ten years working for the CIA has taught me quite a bit about the department’s info security system.
But I’ve been trying to hack this for months without much luck. It might be time to attempt a more direct route for information. I pick up the phone to dial CIA Director Edward Scape, my boss’s boss. He’s worked for the CIA for over forty years which means he would’ve been around when my father was here. He might be able to give me some kind of information.
I get the guy’s secretary. “I’m sorry, Director Scape isn’t available, may I take a message?”
I tap my fingernail on my keyboard, certain he’s not going to call me back unless I give him a compelling reason. “May I have his voicemail, please?”
She hesitates, then says, “Sure. I’ll send you there now.”
Of course, anything on voicemail is going to be recorded. I have to think about what I’m going to say. “Hello, Agent Scape, this is Agent Annabel Gray from the Los Angeles office. I’m not actually calling about my current job detail, I’m calling about something personal. I came across information confirming my father, Major Jack Gray was a CIA agent in clandestine services. I was wondering if I could have access to his file or if you could fill me in on what he did here? You can check my security clearance. I won’t let the information out anywhere. It’s only for… personal reasons. For closure. I was just a girl when he died, and I had no idea we shared a career interest. I’d love to know more about him.” I leave my phone number and thank him and hang up.
Then I tap my keyboard some more. He’s probably not going to call.
CHARLIE
I FIND FRANGELICO IN TUCSON, of all places.
It seems a strange coincidence since the pack of wolves I followed last month are headquartered in Tucson. I’m not really the kind of guy who believes in the universe guiding your moves or anything, but it does scream an opportunity.
I could go and talk to Jared about what I am.
But even as I think it, I reject the idea. I’m not the kind of guy who asks for help from others, and I definitely don’t want to align myself with these people-creatures-whatever they are. They’re into questionable legal activity-cage fighting and who knows what else.
Do I want to know what happens when the moon is full? Do they hunt and kill like I did? And is their prey something far more significant than a rabbit? These are questions I’m not sure I want the answers to, not when I can barely accept what I am-what I’ve become.
Then again, keeping myself in the dark seems like a particularly stupid move, too.
Frangelico booked a room in a resort on the west side of town-Marriott Starr Pass. I head up there and swipe a key card from a housekeeping cart to get into his room.
Bugging the place is easy work but probably not that useful. I drop devices into the hem of his clothing and under the inner sole of his shoe. Really, though, I need to get the guy’s phone. That’s the best place for a bug and the most difficult to get.
Hearing a keycard slide into the lock, I slip out onto the balcony and press my back against the wall. It’s my dumb luck, he comes straight my way. Maybe he saw the curtain move, maybe he just wants fresh air. Either way, I need to disappear. I drop over the side of the balcony, hanging by my fingertips as he stands there, sniffing.
Yeah, I can hear him sniff. My hearing has amplified since I first shifted under Jared’s command last month.
I draw in a breath through my nose, picking up his scent as well. My sense of smell has increased, too. Frangelico smells odd-not at all like a person. More like a cold, earthy smell. It’s… wrong.
earthy smell. It’s… wrong.
I walk my hands quietly around the corner of the balcony and drop softly onto the balcony directly below. I sense rather than see Frangelico leaning over the side like he heard my movement, but I dart back into the shadows.
The guy is definitely on high alert. I jimmy the lock on the balcony door and slip out through the room below. I need a better plan to get to this guy, and I’d better think it through. He may not be surrounded by security, but the guy is cautious, maybe even paranoid. Which means he’s definitely into something illegal.
I move quickly through the halls of the hotel and down to the front desk. Using one of my many fake IDs, I book a room for the night-right down the hall from his.
Annabel
“MS. GRAY? THIS IS DIRECTOR SCAPE.”
I sit up taller, surprised. “Yes, Director Scape. Thank you so much for calling me back.”
“So, you want to know about Major Gray.”
“I do. Did you know him?”
“I did.” He lets the words settle, and a queasy feeling turns in my belly.
“I’m sure things are classified, but can you tell me what he did for the CIA? How he really died?”
The director is silent for a moment. “Ms. Gray. Sometimes it’s better not to know things about the deceased. The story you heard is probably a better one than anything I could say. Why not remember your father as a military hero?”
I don’t like the implication. Is he saying my father wasn’t a military hero?
“What are you telling me, Director Scape?”