her a lot.
The Company had confiscated his computers and fearing he would retaliate against them by using his expertise, had ordered him not to replace them. She would bet he’d gotten around the directive in short order and really hoped he had. Technology changed so rapidly, he’d be well behind the curve now if he hadn’t kept up.
She noted he hadn’t bothered to change out of his shorts, Café Loco shirt and deck shoes. Once she’d told him about the private jet waiting for them, he had seemed eager get on with it.
They were in the air now, and Cochran had been on her cell phone with Mercier for the last half hour, working out the specifics of their deal and details on the case.
Tess felt a little out of the loop, but she was glad her first mission had been accomplished. When she’d made the call for Cochran, Mercier had congratulated her and wished her well on her first real assignment in the field. She had been on backup for three others since he had hired her, and apparently he now trusted her to go secondary on this one.
Six years ago Tess had felt confident enough in her skill, and admittedly curious enough, to volunteer for a small study in parapsychology sponsored by the University of Virginia where she was enrolled. She learned later that the study was actually a renamed and privately funded continuation of the CIA’s Star Gate Project, which had been officially launched in the 1970s.
The study primarily involved remote viewing, which could aid in producing intelligence data. But her particular skills must have been recorded, because four years later she had been recruited.
She had qualified her skill when describing it to Mercier, but he had seemed satisfied that she would be a valuable member of the team and had hired her.
This was her first time out without a fellow SEXTANT agent in the lead on a case. Tess wished she knew Cochran better than she did. She didn’t like not knowing exactly who had her back.
There was the sexual attraction, which she would have to deal with, too. She had felt something like it before, but that had come to no good in a great big hurry.
Brian had been her first and only, the perfect choice—or so she had thought at the time. Early on Tess had decided to wait for love to have sex. She had to make her own rules, and that one had seemed prudent at the time. As a result, she’d reached her sophomore year in college virtually untouched.
He had been so attentive, so persuasive and so handsome. She hadn’t even tried to read his thoughts, thinking that would be intrusive and somehow taking advantage of him. She should have asked herself why a great-looking, popular jock like him, with so many other choices available, would attach himself to a bookish little mouse like her.
Maybe in the back of her mind, she had questioned it. But she hadn’t wanted to analyze the way she felt or look any deeper into his intentions. Starry-eyed and infatuated, she had accepted all his words of undying love as absolute devotion. Until the day after she’d given in to it completely. He had told everyone, leaving her humiliated.
She looked up as Cameron returned to the seat beside her and handed her back the phone. “I got all the details of the investigation so far. Mercier’s arranging for a yacht we can stay on, a repo that’s small enough we can crew it, but big enough to impress.”
“A boat? Jack’s putting us on a boat? Why?”
“Because I suggested it. Our target is moving. Could be on water, so we ought to be prepared for that. He agreed it was a good idea.”
Tess hated boats. She had quailed at boarding Cochran’s back on Tybee. But she wasn’t about to reveal her nearly phobic fear to Cochran. That was no way to begin.
He pinned her again with that intense scrutiny, as if he were trying to read her thoughts.
She knew that look. Was he psychic? She couldn’t read him. That had bothered her when they met, but she hadn’t worried too much. She could read some people, but they had to be open to it, either willing to let her or clueless about her trying. He didn’t strike her as either willing or clueless.
“You don’t like boats,” he stated, guessing. Or maybe he knew.
“I don’t have any experience with them, that’s all. You’ll have to teach me what to do.”
“Don’t worry about it. You’ll be an old salt in no time.”
That remained to be seen. “Why can’t we stay in one of the hotels?”
He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Because once we find this dude, we have to get him into international waters to arrest him.”
“No, we don’t. The French police will cooperate with us. They have before. Jack has influence, and jurisdiction shouldn’t be a problem at all.”
“Yeah, they’ll hold whomever we catch, maybe even let us interrogate him, but under their collective thumb. Trust me, we won’t have the time to cut through bureaucracy. We need to get this guy and find out who he’s working for immediately. His boss might have a backup hacker and go right ahead with his plan.”
“His boss?”
“He’s not working this alone. Also, if we don’t have our perp isolated, who do you think he’ll contact the minute he gets to a phone or a computer?” He stared straight into her eyes. “Get over the boat thing. I know what I’m doing.”
“I hope you do.” This was just another battle she would have to fight in order to be who she wanted to be. She had won others, like conquering her strong resistance to confrontation and her aversion to physical contact. She admitted she still overcompensated to some degree, but for the most part, she was well over those hurdles and felt pretty good about herself.
She had overcome her childhood, or rather her lack of one. Her parents had been reared in a commune until they rebelled and ran away at seventeen. Their awkward attempts at entering the establishment had thrust a lot of responsibility onto the daughter they’d had too early in their lives.
Impulse had governed them and probably always would, but not Tess, who had a firm grip on reality, knew how to map her success and conquer her fears. So, she wasn’t about to quail at riding in a stupid boat.
“Nice plane,” he commented, looking around as if he hadn’t noticed before. “Not exactly Air Force One, but nice. Does it have a shower?”
“Back there,” she replied, pointing, hoping he would fit into the little enclosure. He was a large man, well over six feet tall and well muscled, almost bulked like a weight lifter. Deep-sea fishing must provide a great workout.
She jerked her gaze away from his legs, bare from just above his knees to below his ankles. He had great legs. She cleared her throat, hoping he hadn’t noticed her noticing. “Your bag—”
“I know where it is. I stowed it.” He got up and smiled down at her. “I’ll just go and clean up a little.”
Tess nodded, wondering if he would be in there long enough for her to snoop. Had he brought a weapon? A computer? Anything else she should know about?
“Will we have to go through customs?” he asked, as if he’d read her mind. Again.
“No. Mercier called ahead. He…knows people,” she stammered. “Do
