His buddy elbowed him in the ribs. “You’re grinning like an idiot.”
“Sorry.” Ben tried and failed to wipe the smile from his lips. “None of us knew what to make of Quinn when she arrived. Least of all, me. I would have filled you in had I known what to tell you.”
“Just like you filled us in on your alter ego?”
Ben shrugged. “It started out as a lark and then became something challenging and rewarding. I wasn’t sure you guys would understand since most of my captures took place within a computer.”
“I get that. But I still don’t know why you had to keep it so hush-hush. Adam kept his dad a secret all those years and now this. I feel kind of boring having a life that’s an open book.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. This isn’t a contest.”
“Actually, come to think of it, I do have a secret.” Griff fidgeted next to him.
“Let me guess. You have jock itch?” Ben teased.
“No, asshole, my wife is pregnant.”
He announced it so loudly the rest of the team in the van broke out in applause.
Ben laughed. “And that’s why you don’t have any secrets. You’re supposed to keep ’em, you know, secret.” He slapped his friend on the shoulder. “Congratulations, bro. That’s awesome news.”
Griff beamed. “Yeah, it is pretty cool, isn’t it?”
Both men sobered up when the van came to a stop at the marina. They shared a silent fist bump before Ben climbed out of the van.
“Ben,” Griff called after him. “We got your six, man.”
“Yeah, all for one and one for all.” He gave his buddy a salute before heading to his sailboat.
Chapter Seventeen
They left the White House in a small Mercedes SUV with one of the secretary’s agents at the wheel. The other agent rode shotgun.
“This is my private vehicle, Caracas. Don’t you dare get a scratch on it,” the secretary ordered.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“We’ll pose as mother and daughter,” she explained to Quinn. “The agents will act as our companions.”
Caracas grinned at Quinn through the rearview mirror.
“There will be no PDA. Not even hand-holding.”
The agent’s grin faded at the secretary’s words.
“Do you mind if we listen to the baseball game, ma’am?” the other agent asked.
“Of course I don’t. We’ve got a thirty-minute drive ahead of us. We might as well be entertained.”
Quinn was glad she didn’t have to make small talk. Her thoughts were already so scattered she needed to get them refocused before they arrived at the harbor. She settled back against the seat hoping to do just that.
Unfortunately, the secretary had other plans.
“How is your mother these days?”
The question caught her off guard. It took her a few seconds to recover.
“Well, I hope. My work doesn’t allow me to see my parents as often as I would like. I take it you’ve met her?”
“Years ago, yes. I had just joined the agency. I was based in London and your mother was responsible for some of our training.” The other woman smiled. “You were just a toddler at the time. Oh, how your mother loved to show off pictures of you.”
Quinn was taken aback. The mum she remembered growing up always seemed to want her kept in the shadows, an ornament to be trotted out whenever her alias required it.
“You were the center of her world.”
“Somehow I doubt that,” Quinn said without thinking. “My father was the one she doted on. They have a unique kind of love. He was and always will be her primary focus.” There wasn’t always room for curious little girl in their orbit.
Secretary Lyle’s expression grew melancholy. “That’s because she almost lost him.”
“What?” Quinn turned toward the other woman.
“It was around the same time I was there. You were too young to remember.” The secretary turned to look out the window. “We all run the risk of taking our work home with us. In this case, an agent from the other side was able to track your mother down. Only it was your father who was caught in the cross fire.”
Quinn felt light-headed. She couldn’t imagine life without her sweet, jovial father. Or how her mum would have suffered losing her best friend and soul mate.
“As you well know, this life isn’t conducive to long-term relationships.”
She looked up from her trembling hands to see the other woman studying her.
“Sacrifices are made for the good of our career. Of our country. After the incident, your mother didn’t want to make that sacrifice any longer. She wanted to give it all up. For your father. And for you.”
“That doesn’t make sense. She didn’t give it up.”
“No. Because your father loved her enough to know what clipping her wings would do to her. She needed the game as much as it needed her. She was brilliant at it. Everyone knew that. Even your father. So they made it work.”
The secretary’s revelations stunned her.
“I get the sense you are a lot like her.”
Quinn snorted. “Hardly. Mum and Dad wanted to leave me with an aunt when they were out in the field. But I would always pitch a horrid fit until they took me. She could barely relate to me until I joined the game.”
“My guess is she was afraid to get too close to you. That way if something did happen it wouldn’t hurt too much.” She locked eyes with Quinn. “Sound familiar? I’m sure we are all guilty of that MO in this profession.”
Unable to stand the other woman’s scrutiny any longer, Quinn turned her face toward the window. They were crossing the Woodrow Wilson Bridge. She stared off into the water, wondering if she really knew anything about anything. There had never been any doubt her parents loved her. They just didn’t do it in the all-consuming way parents did these days. She’d been given little guidance on how to navigate life. Most of it she figured out on her own. No doubt, that was what made her a successful spy. But it also made her a serial loner. A trait she desperately wanted to change.
Her attention was suddenly refocused when a large boat in the water caught her eye.
“There it is. Alexi’s yacht,” she said.
The secretary already had her phone to ear. The yacht slowly crawled toward the shore where hotels, glass sculptures, and the Capitol Ferris wheel decorated the landscape. Crowded among the landmarks were hundreds of people all enjoying a summer Sunday evening. She sucked in a breath when a surge of uneasiness coursed through her body.
“I know,” the secretary said, seeming to sense Quinn’s thoughts. “We’ll need to be extra cautious. But whatever happens, the traitor must be apprehended tonight.”
Quinn turned to meet her fierce gaze. “Agreed.”
A few minutes later, Agent Caracas left the car with the valet at the Gaylord Hotel. The four of them wandered through the hotel’s expansive atrium featuring a silent disco, a decorative fountain, and a miniature colonial village, all of it overshadowed by a stunning nineteen-story wall of metal and glass overlooking the Potomac River. With so much going on, it was difficult to focus on the faces in the crowd. Quinn kept her eyes peeled for anyone looking familiar, but her pulse raced at the feeling of being trapped despite the enormous picture window in front of them.