OOPS! I'M A SECRET AGENT (Romance) (7 page)

BOOK: OOPS! I'M A SECRET AGENT (Romance)
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He led me on to the dance floor. Several couples were already
dancing but it wasn’t crowded. I felt that eyes were on us, on Alexavier and
me. John was watching, but I sensed someone else. Then I saw the man who was
sitting opposite Montpelier at the dinner table. We’d barely exchanged a
glance, certainly not a word, during dinner. He’d spoken to the guests beside
him, though their chatter was banal. He said nothing while managing to talk to
them. But it was his eyes that gave me the shivers. There was something about
him that made me want to step back. Those eyes were watching me now over the
rim of his cocktail glass.

I smiled at Alexavier as we waltzed slowly to a Christmas
number. ‘We’re being scrutinised by a man sitting opposite Montpelier.’

Alexavier waltzed around so that he could see the man.
‘That’s one of the three we’re investigating.’

‘He gives me a bad feeling.’

Alexavier’s eyes flashed interest. ‘Tell me more. What do
you sense from him?’

‘Coldness. Complete and utter coldness.’

Alexavier pulled me closer as we danced, the nearest thing
to a reassuring hug that he wouldn’t let this man hurt me.

We waltzed around the dance floor one full circle. It had
become quite busy with couples wanting to dance to this wonderful Christmas
song. Amid the happy atmosphere I tried to focus on keeping my cover above
suspicion.

As we danced back around to where we’d been, I looked across
at the table. The man with the cold eyes had gone.

Back at the table Alexavier deposited me politely at my
seat. ‘Thank you for the dance.’ Then he whispered, ‘Don’t leave Montpelier’s side.’ His blue eyes flashed a warning.

My heart jolted from the warning, the danger. Danger from
these devious men, and from the handsomeness of Alexavier. Dressed in an
immaculate black evening suit, white shirt and black tie, he was the epitome of
masculine class and good looks. Combined with what he was, as head of the
department, it was a combination that I found hard to resist.

I nodded that I understood the warning, and watched him walk
away.

Was he going after the man who had disappeared? Or would one
of the other agents handle that?

Mr Brown was deep in conversation with the woman sitting
next to him. They got up to dance.

Others at the table were chatting, some got up to dance, and
others headed towards the bar.

Montpelier and I were able to speak in whispers.

‘One of our agents has confirmed that information is going
to be exchanged here tonight at the party,’ he said, gazing into my eyes as if
he was telling me something wonderful.

I faked a delighted expression. ‘Are they handing over
secret documents?’ My mind extended to thoughts of microfilm and such that I’d
heard of in films.

‘No, unfortunately they’re using word of mouth.’

I frowned. ‘They’re passing the information on verbally?’

‘Yes. It’s one of several methods used in the past.’

He went on to explain various methods they used.

‘The more technology we have, the more our secrets have been
compromised. The department and other agencies are often reverting to old
fashioned methods to protect our information. Computers can be hacked, information
accessed and the data stolen or wiped. But there’s nothing quite so difficult
to get at than information on paper, hidden in files, and kept secure within
our own walls. If someone wants to access our data, they have to break in and
physically steal it, and that’s a lot harder than tapping into a computer.’

‘I never thought of that.’ But I could see how it made
sense.

‘Now we’re combining our methods. Old and new, traditional
with technology.’

‘And word of mouth?’

‘One of the most effective methods. Nothing written down, no
documents to hide. Nothing but secrets passed from one person to the other.’

I glanced around at all the guests. People were dancing,
chatting, drinking. ‘Where is the other suspect? Has he been seen tonight?’

‘He’s over beside the Christmas tree chatting to a woman and
another couple,’ said Montpelier.

I gave them a cursory look and then focussed on the band
playing.

Montpelier leaned close. ‘Wait here. I’ll be gone for a few
minutes.’

He stood up, kissed me lightly and hurried away.

His kissed warmed my senses. He was easily one of the most
attractive men I’d ever met, but he didn’t quite affect me as Alexavier did.
But this wasn’t the time to analyse my attraction to these men. I’d be the fool
that Rupert and others assumed I was if I thought about that rather than
concentrated on keeping safe and playing my part as Montpelier’s cover.

As he disappeared into the crowd, Alexavier’s warning ran
through my mind. ‘Don’t leave Montpelier’s side.’

I hadn’t. He had left mine. I was wondering what to do when
a man whispered over my shoulder. ‘Would you like to come with me?’

I jumped.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,’ the man said. ‘Ladies
are being asked to choose a gift from under the Christmas tree. I thought you’d
like to come over and select a present. It’s all part of the evening.’

‘Are you a member of staff?’ He was wearing an evening suit
but didn’t quite have an air of guest about him. In his thirties, quite tall
and reasonably good looking with dark hair and a strong build.

‘Yes, part of the management. We’re encouraging the ladies
to choose a gift and I saw that you weren’t dancing or occupied so I thought
I’d entice you over. All the parcels are unmarked so it’s a sort of lucky dip
about what you get.’

‘All part of the fun?’ I said.

‘It is.’

I followed him over to the tree. No other women were there,
though two men were nearby. The gifts were around the tree and it didn’t look
as if the display had been disturbed.

‘You’re the first to pick your Christmas present,’ the man
said.

I gazed at the beautifully wrapped presents. They looked
like something out of a film. I didn’t know which one to choose. They all
looked lovely.

‘I’ll leave you to decide. Just help yourself. Merry
Christmas.’

And off he went, taking with him any suspicions that I’d had
about him.

I looked around to see if anyone was watching me. I
certainly didn’t sense anyone. Nope. Everyone was too busy enjoying themselves.

The lights from the tree reminded me of Christmases past. So
traditional.

I bent down to study the gifts. Perhaps it was the shopper
in me, or I’d succumbed to the sparkling display, but for a moment, just one
moment, I forgot about being a secret agent. I lifted up one of the parcels
which looked like it could be a handbag. Hmm? I put it back and lifted another.
What one would I choose?

And that’s when I think that I genuinely melted into the
background, becoming just one of the guests with her eye on a present.

That’s when they made their mistake.

The two men who were standing nearby spoke in confiding
whispers. No one was near to overhear their conversation. No one except me.

Just as I’d overheard Alexavier and the others talking about
me in the department, I heard these two men talking about something that made
me use my eavesdropping prowess to the max. I heard everything they said.

I picked a gift and walked away from the tree.

No change in the watermark. The two men didn’t even consider
me for a moment. I was invisible and completely forgettable.

 

 

 

I headed back to my table to look
for Montpelier.

‘Ah, there you are,’ said Mr Brown. ‘I do believe you
promised me a dance.’

Unable to refuse him without causing ructions, I let him
escort me on to the dance floor. We waltzed and chatted and I just wanted the
dance to be finished so that I could look for Montpelier, or Alexavier.

Mr Brown insisted we make another round of the dance floor.

‘So what does a lovely young woman like you do?’

‘I’m a fashion designer. Nothing grand. Just a small
independent designer.’

‘Really? What types of things do you design?’

Damn! He was showing an interest.

‘Boutique fashions.’ I didn’t elaborate. I said it
confidently as if he was supposed to know what this was.

‘Oh well that sounds very interesting.’

Great. I’d lost him on the boutique. Phew! I glanced around.
Where was Montpelier? Had something happened to him?

Thankfully the music kicked up a level and he didn’t want to
continue dancing. We went back to the table.

I picked up the gift and was tempted to open it.

‘Has Santa arrived early?’ said Mr Brown.

‘All the ladies at the party are offered the chance to
select a gift from under the Christmas tree,’ I explained.

Mr Brown sipped his drink. ‘That’s a lovely idea. Are you
going to open it?’

‘She’s going to put it under the tree at home,’ said Montpelier, ‘aren’t you darling?’

I smiled up at him, relieved he was safe and hadn’t
mysteriously disappeared. ‘Definitely.’

The band began playing a song I wasn’t familiar with.

Montpelier held out his hand to me. ‘They’re playing our
song. We have to dance to that.’

He swept me away from the table and on to the dance floor.

‘I thought you’d disappeared. I was worried something had
happened to you.’

‘Sorry, Neve. I was liaising with Alexavier.’

‘I know who the traitor is.’ I didn’t sugar my words.

The pale grey eyes sparked with interest. ‘Are you sure?
What did you find out? Is it Brown?’

‘No. I overheard two men talking when I was choosing a
present over at the tree.’ I looked to see where they were. ‘One of them is
still standing near the tree, and the other is over at the window.’ They were
both chatting to other people, keeping up the facade no doubt.

Montpelier followed my line of vision as we danced.

‘The tall blond man at the window received the information,
but the man with the white silk tie near the tree is the traitor.’

‘Are you sure?’

As we danced I relayed the details of the information that
had been passed. Details of times and locations, two locations. ‘The blond man
said that they would meet again in three days time right in the heart of the
city centre. That’s when the last piece of information about private government
matters will be exchanged, along with a substantial amount of money. The
informant said he’d be there, and that he wasn’t going to give them any more
information because he thought that he’d been flagged and was under
investigation.’

‘We’ll get you out of here to somewhere that you can tell us
everything before you forget the details,’ said Montpelier.

‘I won’t forget.’

We smiled and waltzed off the dance floor and out of the
party, taking my gift wrapped present with me.

Outside in the car Montpelier phoned Alexavier who confirmed
they’d pick up the man I’d named as the traitor. They appeared to be willing to
take me at my word, something I rarely experienced, and certainly never from
Rupert. This was a new experience and I liked it.

‘Well done,’ Montpelier said. He turned the heater up in the
car. ‘Tell me everything you overheard.’

After giving him every detail, we started to drive back to
our hotel.

Everything was fine, until I noticed Montpelier glancing in
the rear view mirror.

‘Is someone following us?’ I said. The traffic was busy and
it was difficult for me to see if one particular car had us in their sights.

‘A car has been tailing us. Hold steady. I’ll have to deal
with them.’

I gulped. A high speed car chase?

Montpelier’s method didn’t involve racing through the city
streets. No, his way was more subtle. He accelerated, darted through a gap in
the traffic, parked fast, flicked the headlamps off and let the car tailing us
drive on. Once they were further ahead, he slipped back into the traffic and
headed in another direction, taking a different route back to our hotel.

‘Who was following us?’ I said.

‘The traitor usually works alone, though he may have hired
back–up for this evening. Or...it’s the others. Trouble attracts trouble. There
have been rumours of large sums of money being exchanged for information.
Whenever money is involved, we fall prey to the vultures who hope to muscle in
and get a share of it. Because this assignment has been ongoing for months and
we’ve attracted all sorts of trouble.’

‘It sounds complicated.’

‘Assignments are never clean. In real life, they’re messy,
and we often have to deal with outside issues as well as the task we’re
assigned to. I’ve already had a couple of run–ins with money grubbers who have
no loyalty to anyone or anything except whatever money they can get their hands
on. Our intelligence information confirmed that one or two of them were at the
party tonight. But the traitor was our objective and we hoped to deal with the
others if necessary.’

BOOK: OOPS! I'M A SECRET AGENT (Romance)
6.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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