Desert Dark (28 page)

“I was ordered to watch you. I thought the wiretap would clear your name!”

She'd been standing close enough for him to smell the faint coconut of her shampoo. Her face reddened as she whispered, “You heard me talking to Libby about you.” In that moment he'd felt her slip away, like an iceberg breaking off into the ocean. He'd wanted to stop it, but he didn't know how.

Jack wiped the sweat from his forehead and went through the lobby of the boys' dorm. Down the hall, tacked to his door, he found a pink message slip. Noah had scribbled, “Dean Wolfe wants to see you in his office right away.”

Jack's stomach dropped. He glanced at his watch as he ran back down the hall—after 2100 hours.
He must be furious to stay this late. I'm getting expelled
.

Jack climbed the steps of Hopi Hall like a man walking to the electric chair. He plodded toward Wolfe's office, knocked on the open door.

“Jack, thanks for coming in.”

“I'm sorry you've been waiting. I went for a run and just got your message.”

“It's fine. Sit down.” He pointed to the wingback chairs.

Here it comes
.

“Listen, about this afternoon.” Dean Wolfe leaned back. He tapped his pen on the desk.

He's going to tell me to pack my things. My life is over
.

“I owe you an apology. I should've been more specific about what was acceptable and what was not.”

Jack's mouth hung open as he stared at Dean Wolfe. “What?”

“I regret I wasn't clear.”

“Dean Wolfe, I'm the one who's sorry.” Jack sat forward on the
edge of his chair. “I know I should've gotten permission ahead of time. In my haste to protect the Academy, I didn't bother with the proper channels.”

“Well, you saw an opportunity and you acted. Unfortunately, it was the wrong decision. But you showed determination and initiative, and that's important.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You understand bugging a fellow student—or breaking into someone's room—is a violation of both school policy and that person's civil rights, correct?”

“Yes sir.” Jack nodded.
Well, I do now
.

“Nevertheless, I feel somewhat accountable for your actions. My request lacked explicit instruction, and I probably put too much pressure on you earlier this week when I suggested making a change. I trust nothing like this will ever happen again?”

“No, absolutely not. Thank you. I'm very sorry.” Jack scooted back in his seat and relaxed into the leather.

“There is one more thing.” Wolfe paused. “Close the door.”

Jack jumped from his chair and shut the door. He sat back down.

“Nadia caught you in her room. She discovered she was under investigation. If she is the double, she had no choice but to march you over here and confront us. Claiming innocence doesn't exonerate her, and I'm not convinced she's clean. After ordering you two to continue as before, it doesn't make sense to reassign the case. I need you to stay on assignment.”

“Absolutely. I'll do my best,” Jack answered automatically. Though thrilled with Dean Wolfe's continued trust, the idea that Nadia might still be guilty caused a sinking feeling in his stomach. He hesitated before asking, “Do you have any other leads?”

“Nadia remains our primary suspect. We've had concerns about Marcus Sloan before. His itinerary doesn't always—” He shook his head and stopped. “I specifically told him I was not interested in Nadia Riley. He ignored my apprehension. It's as though he has some personal stake in her attending the Academy.”

Jack remained quiet.

“I think that's all for this evening.”

Jack stood and extended his arm. “Thank you.”

“I'll see you soon.”

Jack let himself out and closed the door. He leaned against the wood and exhaled. His eyes stung.
A second chance. I didn't ruin my life
.

In the morning, I'll redouble my efforts. I've got to find something for Dean Wolfe
.

Back in his room, Jack took a twenty-minute shower. He stepped out into the steam-filled bathroom, wiped the mirror with his towel and studied his reflection. He couldn't stop thinking about Nadia, about what the Dean had said—something didn't fit.

She couldn't get to Canada without a passport, and I checked her passport myself. If she didn't take that trip, someone planted evidence to make it look like she did. And why would she keep a ticket stub? She could've flushed it down the toilet. Unless she didn't know it was there
.

He squeezed the middle of his toothpaste tube and stuck the brush in his mouth.

The cryptic phone call before the dance talked about a meet. He wondered, though. Nadia didn't seem to acknowledge she understood the message.
But would she? She'd play dumb, right? In case it was being recorded
. But the whole thing—it was sloppy work. Why would she allow her coworkers to contact her on a public telephone?

The dead drop—that incriminated her, for sure. Jack had read the disc himself.
But if it's a frame job, of course it would contain actual information, right? And the disc wasn't even encrypted
.

He spat in the sink and rinsed his mouth.
Maybe I should trust my gut—I thought she was innocent from the start. Well, until I didn't. Then I threw her under the bus
.

I'm going to make a horrible agent
.

“Nadia-san, the world of espionage is a fragile house of smoke and sand. It slips between your fingers, disappears into air. From now on, illusion and deceit are your companions; intelligence and stealth your weapons,” Sensei said as they concluded Friday's lesson. “In the future, you would be wise to remember: when the tiger smiles, it is not because he wants to be your friend.”

Nadia covered her face with her hands. “Is that your version of I-told-you-so?” Against Wolfe's orders, she'd relayed the whole story to Sensei. How Jack had strung her along so he could spy on her, how she confronted him, how they'd gone to the Dean. She was so embarrassed she couldn't even make eye contact. This was worse than Matthew and Paige. Worse than that ridiculous party. And she brought it on herself, trusting Jack, being so gullible.
People only take advantage if you let them
.

She'd always believed herself to be a relatively decent judge of character. Sure, she'd made some bad calls—trusting Paige, for example. But she'd hated Matthew when they first met. She found him arrogant and superficial. If she'd stuck with her initial impression she wouldn't have gone out with him, her friendship with Paige would still be intact and she wouldn't be here at Desert Mountain, absolutely humiliated, yet again. After everything with Jack, how could she ever trust her instincts? “I'm such an idiot.”

“Look at me!” Sensei ordered. “You are lucky to learn this lesson early in your studies, on such a trivial matter.” He gestured dismissively. “He is only a boy. I, too, learned this lesson early, but with the gravest of consequences.” A shadow crossed his face; for a moment, Nadia read perfectly what ran through his mind.

“Hashimoto Sensei, what happened to your father?”

His spine stiffened as his expression hardened. “I do not answer personal questions,” he said quietly.

“Forgive me,” she said, and lowered her head.

A moment later, he spoke. “My decision to leave Asia, to train agents for the CIA, was a difficult one, born of tragedy and betrayal.” Nadia raised her head. Sensei turned away as he continued. “We lived in Lhasa, Tibet. My father was a member of the Tibetan resistance fighters, secretly trained by the CIA.” Sensei sighed deeply. “He gave his life to secure the escape of Tibet's spiritual leader.” He turned his eyes toward Nadia. Looked through her. “Together we crossed the Himalayas. A terrible storm raged. Eventually, we reached the Indian border. But we were miles from our original extraction point, where we had planned to meet his partner. My father secured safe passage for our party, but he stayed behind. His ethical code forbade him to seek refuge without his friend. He insisted, for my safety, that I travel on. I never saw him again.”

“Oh no.”

“I later learned his partner betrayed us; his loyalties were purchased by the Chinese. If my father had been better trained, if I had been better equipped to sense danger, to intuit a traitor, my father might still be alive.”

For a few moments she remained silent, deeply touched that he'd confided this personal information. “Hashimoto Sensei, surely you don't believe you are responsible for your father's death? You were a child.”

“Nadia-san, if you and I were involved in a conflict, fighting on the same side, and you survived the battle but I did not, would you not feel responsible?”

“But I have been trained. By you, Sensei. Though obviously, not enough. I didn't see what was right in front of my face.”

His voice softened. “Do not be so critical. Even monkeys fall from trees.”

Nadia nodded. “I know; I have more important things to worry about than my social life. I asked Dean Wolfe to bring in the CIA but he refused. He says we can't let the double know we're on to him.”

“I am afraid he is right. But you are a clever young woman, Nadia-san. I have faith in you.”

“The worst part is, I have to pretend none of this ever happened. I have to be civil to Jack when I see him.”
How could I have let myself fall for him?

“He is irrelevant. Have you asked yourself the obvious question? If Jack is not setting you up, who is?”

She'd replayed the events a hundred times. Each time, a new suspect arose. And with each new suspect, a dozen reasons why it couldn't possibly be them. She shook her head. “I have no idea.”

Sensei's dark eyes were grim as he studied her. “Finding the truth is like chasing echoes through a canyon.”

Nadia joined Libby, Alan and Damon in the dining hall for dinner. She poked a fork at her bowl of beef stew, ignoring her friends as they chatted about the weekend's study session.
It could be any of them
.

“You look terrible,” Alan said to her. “Are you unwell?”

She glared at him.
He's always undermining me
. “I'm fine.”

“You are looking a little green around the gills.” Libby pressed her inner wrist against Nadia's forehead. “Maybe you should go lie down?”

Why? Trying to get rid of me?

“You want me to walk you to your dorm?” Damon offered.

“No, I'm fine,” she said.
He's been stuck to me like glue all day
. Twice she'd asked him to back up.
Is it Damon? Or is he making a play because I'm mad at Jack?
She hadn't said anything, but he was a mind-reader about stuff like that. “Not that I don't appreciate
the attention, but can you scoot your chair over? I'm practically sitting on your lap.”

“If you want to sit on my lap that can absolutely be arranged,” Damon said, but he moved a few inches to her left.

“Hey, Nadia.” Jack's voice startled her. He was always sneaking up from behind. It was incredibly annoying. Probably so he had the height advantage.

Me sitting while he towers above
.

“Jack, you want to join us?” Damon reached around Nadia to drag an empty chair to the table.

“There's not really any room,” Alan said, spreading his elbows out on the cloth.

“Don't bother, Damon. I'm not staying,” Jack answered, glaring at Alan. “Nadia, can I talk to you for a minute?”

“What's up?” she asked, not glancing from her dinner.

“In private?” Jack yanked out her chair and led her to a quiet corner of the room.

When they were out of earshot of the other diners, Nadia whispered, “What do you want?”

“Let's go out to dinner tomorrow night.” Jack offered a tiny smile.

Her mouth fell open. “You can't be serious.”

“We've been ordered to continue our relationship,” Jack said quietly.

“You mean our
farce
of a relationship,” she hissed.

“There's no such thing as a perfect romance.”

“Do you think that's funny?”

“A little,” he said. “Come on, we can at least be friends, right?”

“You want a friend, get a dog.”

“Look, we need to go on a date. I thought we could go downtown and grab a bite. I'll help you figure out who's trying to set you up.” Jack's voice was serious now. He leaned against the wall and grabbed her hands. He held his head low, tried to meet her eyes. If Nadia didn't know better she would've thought he sounded concerned.

But she did know better.
I hate him. Why does he have to be so hot?
“Get your hands off me,” she said softly. “I would rather pull out my own fingernails than go on a date with you.”

He flashed an insincere smile as he whispered, “People are watching.” Then, much louder, he continued. “Great, Saturday night. Eighteen-hundred?”

“This isn't the military, jackass. You can say six o'clock.”

“It's
Jack
. Just Jack. And I can't wait, either.” He kissed her cheek and walked away.

Nadia was seething—furious with Dean Wolfe for making her continue this romantic charade, furious with Jack for pretending to care. Giving her earrings, taking her on a date. The kiss at the dance—she'd been so blind.

Nadia left her half-eaten dinner on the table and went to her room. Slipped under her door she found a survival course summons for the following weekend.
Great
. She slammed the door closed and flicked the light switch. The light flashed and popped, then went dark as the bulb burned out.

Of course it did
.

She stomped down the hall to Casey's desk for a replacement.