A Lie From Me To You

By Ramsey Austin-Spencer

Espionage, assassinations, betrayal, and of course, love, bring George and Jessica together. Then it tears them apart.

Pursuing Jessica Sky, the wife of one of the most ruthless leaders of the drug cartel, Stan he finds there is more to her than he ever encountered in his years with the DEA. Jessica's bodyguard George is as mysterious and dangerous as the woman he guards, but as his mission begins to unravel, Stan realizes that once you get trapped in George and Jessica's world, the only way out is to die.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ramsey Austin-Spencer
• Release date: Dec 21, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301384914

Ramsey Austin-Spencer

Ramsey was born in Salt Lake City, UT, raised in Salt Lake City, UT, married and had a family in Salt Lake City, UT and will more than likely die there as well. Don't feel too bad; Ramsey also enjoys traveling to places other than Salt Lake City, UT. In a motor home with a Jeep towing behind it she tours the United States just for fun. An accounting technician by profession (odd, I know), she does payroll for one of the municipal entities in (you guessed it), the Salt Lake City, UT area. Writing is the passion that has driven her since she could pick up a pencil. Receiving her Associate's Degree from Salt Lake Community College, and her Bachelor's Degree from WGU, she continues to work on perfecting her trade by continuing to take classes. Always looking for new educational experiences, she is a certified diver, studied sign language and French, has been in local plays and even went through a Citizen's Police Academy. Two sons and a wonderful husband are the reason you have a chance to read the work Ramsey has written. They encourage, irritate and force her to do better. Hope you enjoy.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

The sleek jet hovered over the stark desert for a moment like a large bird circling its prey before swooping around once and making a smooth, faultless landing on the small private airstrip. To George, it didn’t matter how skilled the pilot or how perfect the maneuver was executed, it still made his stomach pitch and roll uncomfortably.

The summer sun beat down on the seemingly deserted airstrip in California giving everything a washed-out brown and yellow color. The private airstrip they just arrived at was an exclusive and expensive place to land, but it provided the best security money could buy because the wife of a rich drug lord deserved nothing less.

Looking over at the slender dark-haired woman, George sighed and shook his head at Jessica’s sympathetic smile. He appreciated her acknowledging his pain because she enjoyed flying, especially when they traveled in the private jet because he never found a way to garner any pleasure from it. Jessica's enjoyment didn't come from the status or the comfort of flying privately. She simply loved to fly and though she still delighted in air travel even when they flew on a regular flight, she preferred the intimacy of her private plane. So did George.

Jessica wasn’t the type of woman who liked to be fussed over and flying commercially meant the flight attendants flitted around making sure you had everything you needed, which the unique and intriguing woman didn't care for. Of course, when flying commercially she always flew first class and the people who occupied those seats usually demanded extra special attention; Jessica didn’t, but her husband Pierre wouldn’t have allowed her to travel any other way than first class, so that's what they did.

George disliked flying commercially for different reasons. When you were on a plane full of strangers you needed to be aware of everyone around you, you couldn't bring a weapon with you and you couldn’t relax, so like Jessica, he preferred the solitude and convenience that came from traveling in your own personal plane. However, he wished he never had to climb aboard one whereas Jessica wanted to go whenever she got the chance.

Now that they'd landed Jessica gave herself a brief study in the compact mirror from her pocket. Vanity didn't play a part in the reason she checked because even though Jessica was a beautiful woman, she didn’t fuss extensively over her appearance. Right now necessity made her concentrate on what she looked like as she brushed her thick reddish-brown hair up into a man's dress hat and adjusted the heavy suit over the padding covering her thin frame.

Seeing her like this almost made George laugh out loud. Anyone who’d ever seen Jessica could never mistake her for a man and her disguise wouldn't pass close inspection, but if they played it just right and George did his part correctly this charade would accomplish what they needed it to. Standing up, the two of them prepared for when the door opened. George would go first.

Watching to make sure everything went according to plan, George peered out the window as Jessica adjusted the suit jacket one last time and placed a pair of black sunglasses on her face while they waited for the all-clear to leave the plane. The pilot, attendant, and ground crew all scurried around to make sure the occupants of the plane didn’t have to wait too long, but the time it took didn't worry Jessica. Patience was something inherent in her makeup, as evidenced by the way she didn’t squirm in the oversized clothes while she stood waiting. George was patient to a point, but he also understood things were being put in motion and he was ready to get on with them. His chest tightened further with each passing moment, anticipating what he needed to do, what could go wrong, and how to adjust to whatever did go wrong.

Now that the plane was on the ground and the air system no longer kept the cabin at the perfect temperature the interior began getting muggy and unpleasant as the heat permeated in on them, but discomfort was something else Jessica handled well. He glanced at her to make sure she was all right. Light sweat slowly began to wet the top of her brow and lip, but where others who had her kind of money and power might construe this as an annoyance, Jessica appeared perfectly at ease with it. It was necessary, so she dealt with it. That was Jessica.

George gave her a nod to make sure she was ready and she smiled easily at him. He didn’t need to speak to her to know she was prepared. Their association went back enough years to tell him exactly where she stood in any situation with just a look, so he understood they were ready to move. Stepping out of the plane into the instant heat made him grateful he ditched the suit this trip, but he still wore dress pants and a cotton dress shirt which immediately clung to his firm chest and back. He would have preferred jeans and a T-shirt, but the job of being Jessica’s bodyguard had requirements and on this trip the clothes he selected were important. He needed to look official, but he also needed to have a certain amount of mobility in case of trouble and these clothes offered what he required. The air weighed down on him making him more uncomfortable than he already was and he once again recognized Jessica coped with these things far better than he did. It was something he needed to work on, but right now he had a job to do.

As he reached the bottom steps of the plane, two uniformed men came over to greet him. Talking quietly, George passed them the required papers of identification along with their payoff. The transaction was all very standard and after everyone was satisfied George returned back up the steps to the open door of the plane again and motioned they were clear, but his eyes never stopped scanning the vast land around them. What waited for them wasn’t standard and the familiar weight of his sidearm barely comforted him as he positioned himself in front of his employer as the two of them made their way out of the plane.

He didn’t offer his arm or help her in any way, but not just because those who were watching needed to think a man now disembarked from the plane. Jessica wasn’t a frail needy woman and he almost laughed at the thought of trying to give her assistance even if she arrived dressed like she normally would have for a trip to California.

This trip was for show as the DEA lay in wait for them over the small hill to their right. He couldn’t see them, but their presence permeated the area around him. George was ready for the inevitable. This was the part of his job where he may have to give his life to protect Jessica. He understood the risks and accepted them fully.

Moving quickly, but unrushed, he led the way to where a car idled, waiting for them; a black Lincoln Continental. Normally she would have had a stretch limo pick her up for a formal visit, or if she came in for her own pleasure she would have arranged for her Jaguar to be left at the airstrip, but this trip required special handling, so they rented the Lincoln. The driver worked for Jessica’s husband and came in two days earlier to open up the house and prepare for Jessica’s visit as well as to pick them up. Clive had worked for Pierre for well over a year and George worked with him before. In fact, George arranged all the personnel who’d be working on this little setup they had going. He handled all of Pierre and Jessica's security and today he wanted to make sure everything was done to his specifications and nothing got left to chance. Pierre easily agreed to all his demands because both he and Jessica trusted him implicitly with things like this. He was extremely good at his job.

With George's tall firm body standing in front of her, shielding her from the sun and prying eyes, he held his position until she dropped down into the waiting car. Going around to the other side and climbing in next to her, he shut the door and the dark smoked windows shielded them from any more playacting, but he didn’t relax. It wasn’t over and Jessica's reassuring smile told him she recognized the worry on his face. He was worried. Getting to the car was the easy part. The DEA waited over the hill for the optimal moment to move in. That moment came later.

Sighing with relief, Jessica opened the jacket making George hold back his own smile. She loved the heat, but he believed the suit with the excess padding must have been terribly uncomfortable, even for the short amount of time she had to wear it. They sat waiting while the attendants and the airport personnel removed her suitcases and several boxes from the plane and placed them in the trunk of the car. He glanced over at her to make sure she was all right, but he didn’t need to worry. He never needed to worry about her, but he did.

As they pulled away he wondered if the rues worked. Blocking Jessica from the prying eyes had been vital. Jessica looked nothing like Pierre and sitting here next to her made him wonder if there was any way they fooled anyone. Jessica had a slender, firm body, which forced them to add additional bulk to her, which she now pulled out and set on the floor.

That’s the last thing a woman wants; extra padding, she teased him.

He shook his head and sighed at her before focusing his attention outside the car. None of this bothered her, but he understood she stayed as alert to everything going on around them as he did regardless of what she showed outwardly. Just another skill the talented woman possessed. This was her job as well as his and she easily handled stress that would cripple most people. His job entailed making sure nothing happened to her. Situations like this were unpredictable and he wanted to be ready for anything. He would make sure she came out of this all right. Nothing else mattered and he couldn’t fail. He wouldn’t fail.

George knew who waited for them. Monitoring a real-time satellite feed they had access to while in flight right up until they landed gave him the positions of the men over the small ridge to the west of the airport as they were getting set up to raid the car he and Jessica traveled in. From the moment they landed there were several pairs of binoculars watching them as they moved Jessica out of the plane and maneuvered her to the car. Stanley Durbin: that was the DEA agent who set this operation up and commanded the mission. George dug up all the information he could on him prior to leaving Colombia. He was a good agent with several commendations, but that might end up being a bad thing. It meant he took these kinds of missions seriously, but it also meant he’d do this by the book, which is what George was counting on. Five other agents waited with Stan out in the heat anticipating taking down Pierre Cordova with a car full of drugs. That wasn’t going to happen.

Stan wasn’t on Pierre’s payroll, which several DEA agents were, but that didn't create a problem for George. He actually admired how the man managed to avoid the easy and common corruption. No, the real issue came down to the fact Stan was expecting Pierre, which meant he’d come in fully armed and hostile. That’s where things could go wrong. Once the adrenaline began pumping, men sometimes had trouble letting things go.

There existed some pity in George for the man who was about to be disappointed, but in the end, George didn’t care if the man ended up killed during the operation. What he did care about was making sure nothing happened to Jessica during any part of this. She was tough and could take care of herself, but she was the only reason he was here and the reason he’d kill Stan Durbin if he tried to do anything to hurt her.

As the Lincoln made its way along the winding road, George saw the flash from the chrome on the government car as it started making its move. His body tensed and he looked over at Jessica to see if she noticed the operation about to go down. She did and gave him a quick nod as they braced themselves for the impact. Thankfully Clive swerved and missed striking the car coming down off the small hill to block them, but it cost them.

The car slid as it turned sideways to avoid the car suddenly appearing in front of them. Locking up the back breaks, the tires lost traction and they skidded off the road and came to rest tilting against a slight embankment. Once again Jessica was George’s first priority.

Are you all right? he asked.

Jessica nodded and turned to look out the back window. George followed suit and witnessed the other car turn in behind them to stop any retreat. It didn’t matter, but the DEA wanted to make sure they didn’t have a chance to get back to the plane and take off. It was smart. It’s what George would have done.

The agents all piled out of their cars, taking cover behind their vehicles with their guns drawn. George waited while Stan moved in closer than the others in order to take charge of the situation while still keeping himself at a safe distance. He appeared agitated, but it didn’t look like he was going to take chances with his men, or the lives of those in the car. That relieved George to a point, but it didn't escape his notice how Stan's hand remained tight on his weapon and all the guns pointed at them only made George's aggression increase.

This is the DEA. Step out of the car with your hands in the air, the man instructed loudly to be heard inside the car.

Everyone stood in rapt anticipation and George hesitated a moment to watch as the men outside the car started to sweat profusely from the sun which seemed to be baking them in place. Finally, George leaned forward to Clive.

Go ahead, he told the man. You go first. I’ll be out in a minute. I’ll have Jessica come out last. Don’t give them any reason to get nasty, he instructed.

With a nod, Clive slowly opened the driver’s door and the large black man stepped out with his hands up. George watched intently; ready to react as all the DEA agent’s fingers tensed on their triggers, but no one moved toward him. They weren’t about to engage without knowing what the other two passengers were doing. It could be a ploy to draw the agents out into the open and no one wanted to take that chance. Once again, George admired Stan's ability to maintain a good grip on the operation and his men, who all appeared well trained.

Move over to the other car, Stan commanded and Clive walked slowly over to the officers who seized him, pulling him out of the line of fire and pushing him against the car spread eagle while they searched him. So far everything appeared to be going by the book and no one seemed inclined to get trigger happy, so George opened his door and stepped out with his hands in the air. He stood outside the door for a moment to take in every car, every man, and every gun pointed at him. He wasn’t afraid of the DEA; he simply wanted to calculate what options he had if everything went to hell because even though he didn't notice anyone else on the surveillance video he monitored on the way in, that didn’t mean there weren’t others lying in wait for them; people who might not play by the rules the DEA played by.

Move away from the car, Stan commanded for the second time.

George leaned down and looked back into the car. He didn’t want to leave her. Go, Jessica whispered to him with an understanding nod. He didn’t move right away. She was all right, he reminded himself, but he still didn’t like the idea of leaving her to face Stan and his men alone. His job was to protect her and walking away from that responsibility angered him slightly. He nodded and stepped away, moving toward where Clive stood pressed against the door of one of the cars already cuffed. Once out of the line of fire, the agents grabbed him and pushed him over the hood of the car, holding his head to the hot metal by his thick, long brown hair. He pushed against them briefly to let them understand the power he held, but then he allowed himself to be searched, cuffed, and pulled back to a standing position. It didn’t serve Jessica or their purpose here to start a fight with the DEA, even though he believed it was a fight he could win.

Stan was a lean man with dark brown eyes and sharp features. He had dark brown hair cut short and he held his mouth tight, making his lips almost disappear. George figured the man rarely smiled. Stan moved slowly out from his secure position, motioning the other agents to stay behind him as he moved toward the car. George tensed now that he allowed himself to become incapacitated and couldn’t do anything to help Jessica if things went bad. He hated being here helpless and having to watch. George and Clive came out first to ensure the DEA understood there wouldn’t be any trouble. He hoped the plan provided enough evidence of that for Stan to calm down as he went to get Jessica out of the car.

Step out of the car, Stan commanded as he moved toward the open door. His gun pushed out in front of him as he moved so he could see in without putting himself in harm’s way.

Jessica pulled herself slowly across the seat and poked her head out of the car. Removing the black hat she let the reddish-brown hair fall down over her shoulders and George felt a sweep of relief as he saw Stan’s gun sag so it no longer threatened her any longer as he stood staring at the striking woman. From the look on his face, he obviously didn't expect Jessica to be the person he found sitting in the car. They went to a lot of trouble to make sure he didn't expect her and their ploy apparently worked.

My door is jammed shut, she explained calmly.

Stan shook his head and George once again tightened and took a step forward, which was met with an agent yanking on his arm to keep him from moving. Stan’s disappointment now began turning to anger. George understood better than anyone that once you had the adrenaline pushing you into action, you couldn’t suddenly turn it off and you had to do something with it. He hoped Stan had more control than others he’d been around, but it wasn’t going to be easy for the man to let this go. Stan growled and the sound carried clear over to the back of the car where they held George.

Stan leaned forward and looked into the car as though he could force Pierre to be in there by sheer will, but only Jessica remained in the back seat. Step out, he commanded, taking the slender woman by the arm and pulling her across the seat and out the door.

He now treated Jessica rougher than George wanted him to, but she didn’t take offense to his harsh treatment of her as Stan held her arm firmly waiting for one of the other agents to come to get her and begin the usual processing of her. If Stan understood what Jessica was capable of, he might have treated her with more caution, but she simply allowed herself to be shuffled over to where they wanted her.

The man-style suit hung loosely from her slight frame now that she removed the excess padding and even though the other agent moved forward to take custody of her, Stan held onto her as though she would bolt from him if he let go. Once again George took a step forward sensing the man was still gripped with irritation and having trouble both literally and physically letting go of this.

Take her, Stan finally barked at the man who stood there waiting to take care of her. He pushed Jessica over to the other agent, but his eyes didn’t veer off of her until she stood over next to George being searched.

Once she stood next to George the agent pushed her down against the car as they did him. This time George’s anger wouldn’t be quelled as he pulled away from the man holding him and pushed himself between Jessica and the man who started frisking her.

You do not want to be an ass about this, George threatened. The agent who lost hold of him came up and pulled on him, but George wouldn’t be moved.

What’s going on? Stan asked, coming over.

You tell your men to take it easy, George commanded.

My men are just doing their job, Stan said pushing himself up to George, but it didn’t escape his attention that Stan stayed back far enough to avoid being lashed out at.

That’s fine. They can do their job without manhandling her.

Stan turned to the agent. Did you find anything?

The agent shook his head.

By the book, Stan instructed in a low voice and patted the man twice on the shoulder. Pulling Jessica’s hands behind her, the man cuffed her. He didn't treat her unduly rough, but George’s body remained tight with anger and he strained at his cuffs, wishing he’d been able to keep them from doing that to him.

His eyes caught Stan’s and burned harshly at him, letting him know he didn’t want anyone touching her and he would make anyone who did anything unprofessional pay dearly. He was grateful Stan came in and made sure his men behaved appropriately because at the moment George had no other choice than to stand his ground with his hands cuffed securely behind him and put up with the men who held the misconception they were in charge at the moment.

Once again he reminded himself he didn't need to worry about her; she could easily handle herself, but it was his job, and even more than that, he wanted to protect her, especially from the likes of Stan. Knives and bullets were something he could throw himself in front of, but men like Stan were different and George hated how he couldn’t protect her from what could happen to her in situations like this. He understood how truly dangerous this was for Jessica and even though she remained cool and calm throughout the ordeal, she understood it as well.

We found two guns, one of the agents told Stan. Both men have a permit. We found nothing on the woman.

Stan nodded halfheartedly, refusing to look over at George. That gave him some satisfaction. Now that they were all out, cuffed and waiting, George relaxed believing the DEA wasn’t going to get crazy and shoot anyone. He found the situation interesting and wanted to observe how Stan handled the operation. He read up on the man and always found it intriguing to compare what you dug up in someone's file with the actual person. George could see the man still harbored some hope of getting a bust, but as he went over to the agents who were going through the boxes in the trunk of the car, the looks on the men’s faces clear indicated this mission had failed.

It appears to be homemade toys, one of the agents going through the trunk explained. Stan merely nodded.

I hope you have a search warrant, Clive snapped out. The large man hated being immobilized as much as George did and both wanted to wrap this up and get out of here.

Stan moved in on him, pushing a piece of paper up into Clive’s face. I have all the authority I need.

Clive growled in irritation and turned away from the angry man. He knew what was happening. They all knew this was going to happen, but it didn’t make taking it any easier as they stood out in the heat while the arrogant agents paraded around them.

Look under the seats, under the hood, and all through the car, Stan ordered as he walked the small area around them like a man lost in the desert.

Looking for something in particular? Jessica asked, forcing George to stifle the laugh her cruel question brought to him. She knew exactly what they were looking for, but toyed with the agitated agent for fun. Stan had to know that.

Who are you? Stan demanded, grabbing the wallet they took off of her and looking at the ID inside.

Mrs. Jessica Cordova, she said slowly, looking him in the eyes without faltering. And your name?

Stan Durbin, DEA, he responded. What's the reason for your visit, Mrs. Cordova? Stan asked in a low professional voice, not dropping his eyes from hers, even though it appeared to be a strain for him to maintain his gaze.

I'm part of an exchange program, she said evenly, softening slightly. Her passion for the secondary reason she came to the states was real. I've brought toys made from the children of my country and in return, I’ll be taking back toys from the children of your country. It’s a wonderful opportunity to build understanding. She paused and offered him a small, but warm smile that appeared remarkably sincere. You expected something else. It wasn’t a question and Stan literally flinched at her honesty.

Stan mumbled incoherently under his breath, turning away from her and once again pacing over to the car. He nodded at the agents there who shook their heads. Go through the toys. Tear some apart to see if anything is planted in them.

I assure you, Jessica said quickly losing her good-natured tone. You are making a complete ass of yourself here.

That's my God-given right, Stan told her, stepping up close to her, his anger seeming to radiate heat on the three of them who stood there waiting for this to be over. I'm sure you can understand my need for thoroughness given that your husband is one of the largest drug growers and distributors in the world.

The last I recalled in this country, a person was innocent until proven guilty.

Stan’s mouth tightened and he sucked in a deep breath. You don’t have an accent, he said as though starting the interrogation. So what country are you originally from?

Jessica stared at him without responding for a long moment. I’d be careful how you proceed, she told him and if Stan somehow didn't get the threat, George did.

Stan seemed flustered and even though George enjoyed how Jessica dug at the man, he also knew this wasn’t over and they needed to be careful. He moved himself a little closer to her so Stan would understand he protected her regardless of his hands being immobilized. Stan glanced from George to Jessica and back. He received the message.

Nothing sir, the agent at the car called out.

Nothing but a few broken-hearted children, Jessica said and the pain in her voice was genuine; genuine enough that Stan looked as though she jabbed him with a sharp stick.

How many do you want us to go through? the agent asked. The man looked at Jessica and George knew she did exactly what she wanted; she made the men feel sorry for her.

That’s enough, Stan said quietly.

Thank you, she said in a voice so soft and sweet all the men surrounding her turned to look at her. How much longer will we be here? The children are expecting us.

Stan’s face appeared to have heated up as he now sweated more than the hot sun made everyone else sweat. He failed and it showed in his face and in the way he held himself. He motioned to the agents to remove the cuffs and George could see by the looks on the faces they were all as devastated by this defeat as Stan.

The three rubbed their wrists slightly and started back to their car. George stayed close to Jessica, but as they passed by Stan, George bumped the agent out of his way with a low growl. He made sure to have eye contact as well. He wanted Stan to know he lost and not to try and come at Jessica again. Stan acknowledged the threat with one of his own. Stan would continue to try to get at Pierre even if that meant going through Jessica.

Jessica stopped and turned back toward Stan as they reached the car. Can I assume, Mr. Durbin, that we can send the repair bills for the car and the damage of the toys to your department?

You can take it up with the department if you feel warranted, Stan growled out.

Jessica nodded thoughtfully. I’ll do that, she offered before dropping down and disappearing into the back seat of the car.

George once again scanned the area before also climbing in and closing the door. Their encounter with the DEA might be over, but the danger to Jessica was never far away. He worried others might be waiting to take her out. His biggest fear was not being able to get between her and a sniper bullet in time.

Once back in the car Clive turned up the air to cool them all down as he gunned the car to get it off the hill they were partially wedged against.

I’m glad we got insurance on this rental, Clive offered as they took off.

Jessica turned back and looked at the DEA team as they began getting back in their cars. Turning back she put her hand over George’s. Thank you, she offered.

That was all. That was all he needed.

Smiling up to Clive now, she leaned forward and put her hand on his shoulder. I think we’ve earned ourselves a milkshake, she told him and George saw the man smiling. Jessica knew the people who worked for her. She knew their families, their likes, their fears, but it wasn’t like other drug cartel members who used information on their employees to instill fear. Jessica used it to make sure they were taken care of and to offer them what they needed. Find us a good place to indulge, she instructed gently, sitting back in the seat and closing her eyes to let the cool air blowing out of the vent cool her. She was beautiful, George confirmed before he turned and looked out the window, actually liking the idea of getting a milkshake.

Now that the initial adrenaline began wearing off their remaining time on this trip would be much more relaxing. Still, he glanced back one more time as the DEA cars disappeared when they rounded the corner. He worried about Stan Durbin. This wasn’t going to be the last they’d see of him.

CHAPTER TWO

Once Jessica, her driver, and the bodyguard climbed back in their car Stan found himself looking around the rolling empty hills surrounding them. George had been intently gazing out in the distance giving Stan the impression the large man wasn’t as interested in the DEA as much as anyone else who might be lingering, hidden in the landscape; others who were more dangerous. From the moment he witnessed the man step out of the plane and watched the way he carried himself he understood he was dealing with a professional. It was one of the reasons Stan believed he had the right person because men like Pierre always traveled with the best protection they could buy and George was obviously good at his job. What bothered Stan was that he might still have the chance to find out how good.

Going back to his car Stan sat and watched as the Lincoln drove away. Pierre sent Jessica in dressed up like a man as a decoy. The fact the trick worked wasn't even the worst of it. Obviously, Pierre Cordova slipped into the country another way, bringing his drugs with him. That meant Stan failed twice. His stomach churned in his defeat.

Jessica bothered him. How did he not know about her, he wondered. He possessed detailed files on the entire drug cartel from seven different countries in South America and Jessica never surfaced on any of those files. Her accent, or lack of one, told him she wasn’t native to Colombia like Pierre. Her demeanor and way of speaking told him she was educated, which wasn’t the norm for men like Pierre. They typically went for the flashy, shallow women who looked good on their arm. Of course, Jessica was a beautiful woman, but there appeared to be more to her than that. Jessica struck him as an enigma and in his line of work that meant dangerous.

What now? Jim Haskins, his second in command asked.

Grab onto your butt and get it ready for the chewing it's about to get.

During the drive back to the office, Stan went over everything that happened, wondering if he should have seen the switch they pulled on him, but even though there were a dozen little hints, nothing would have triggered him to change his game plan. They played a game with the DEA and were effective at it.

Now sitting in Nick Benson's office watching the large man with the thinning hair chew lightly on his lip as he went over what happened during the operation, Stan once again started second-guessing himself. He sat here before and watched as Nick chewed on his lip. It wasn’t a good sign. It indicated how stressed this situation made his boss, but he didn't blame the man; the whole thing stressed Stan.

Where did you get the tip from? Nick asked, his eyes not coming off the paper on his desk which Stan gave him only a few moments ago detailing the operation.

A man who works for Cordova sells us information every now and then. It's always been good.

Sounds like Cordova’s onto him.

That's the only explanation I can think of.

Nick nodded. That's the way this game is played.

That doesn't make me feel any better about losing out like this.

Nick laughed as he shook his head slightly. It wasn't supposed to. He paused as he pushed himself back a little ways from his desk and sighed. You’re still prepared for tonight, right?

Stan shrugged as though he didn’t understand, but he actually was holding out some hope the mild-mannered man in front of him might have forgotten he asked him to go to the political fundraiser tonight at the McSimmon’s Mansion. Obviously, he didn’t.

I told you about it three weeks ago, Nick said with a scowl. You and I were requested to be there by the director.

You know I'm not any good at this kind of thing.

You're a high-image person in the department right now after that large bust three months ago. You know how politicians love to grab at the flavor of the month and this election season it’s drug enforcement. Everybody wants to show their support for it.

Sir, I....

I know you have a suitable suit and I’ve arranged for my car to swing by and pick you up at seven o’clock. You can pretend you don’t remember all you want, but you’re going, and please try and bring a date. Nick’s face puckered up in reaction to the look on Stan's, but he finally sighed and shook his head sympathetically. I don't like playing their game any more than you do, but unfortunately these bozos are the ones who allocate the money for your paycheck and mine, so it's just part of the job.

I still have a lot of work left to do on this case. We got our butts kicked this time, so next time I'd like to be a little better prepared, Stan said, knowing it was pointless to argue with Nick, but trying anyway. Nick was a good man. They knew each other well and had been friends a long time, but in the end, Nick was his boss and would demand he go.

One night away from this case isn’t going to kill you, Nick said and from the tone of his voice, Stan understood the conversation was over and he lost this round. Taking this minor defeat in silence, he slipped back to his desk and finished filling out his reports. He didn’t want to let this go. As he filled out the paperwork he went back over everything they did and everything anyone said and wondered what he could have done differently to change the outcome. Next time he would make sure he was looking at the right person even if that meant putting someone right next to the plane to verify. If he paid closer attention when Jessica stepped out of the plane he would have seen she wasn’t Pierre. Of course, George positioned himself well to make sure that didn’t happen. With a huff, he slapped the forms into his outbox and headed for the door.

Stan didn't bother trying to get a date for the party. He didn't feel comfortable calling any of the girls he dated recently and asking them out to this kind of a function,