Two faces looked down at her. They swam in her vision, fuzzy and indistinct. It was cold beneath her, and rather puffy. Snow, she realized.
The faces coalesced into Jason and Tasha.
"Are you okay?" said Jason, offering his hand.
She took his hand, and he pulled her to her feet. "Good thing there was a snowdrift there," she said shakily, brushing herself off.
"Good thing. What are you doing here?"
"I came to see if you were all right."
"I'm fine."
"I can see that." She looked at Tasha, who smiled.
"Hi, Connie. It's been a long time."
"Hi, Tasha. How are you?" She wanted to ask what she was doing there, but felt extremely awkward, standing there in the snow after falling backward, spying on spies through the window.
"I'm well. It's good to see you again."
"Want to come in for some hot chocolate?" asked Jason. "As long as you're here." A smile was lurking at the edge of his mouth, as if he found this very amusing.
"Um…sure."
"Tasha?"
She pursed her lips. "There are still some things we need to discuss, Jason."
His face went serious. "Of course."
As they walked inside, Connie thought, I think I know what you want to 'discuss', Tasha. Like you were 'discussing' in the garage. He doesn't need any more complications in his life, especially right now.
Inside, they sat down on Jason's red leather couch while he went into the kitchen.
"So," said Connie, "how has your work been going? I guess you can't really talk about it."
Tasha smiled. "No, I can't. What about you?"
"It's…been pretty normal around here. Except—" she stopped. The past few months had been anything but normal. "Do you know what happened?"
Tasha's face fell. "To Jason? Yes. I didn't learn of it until a month afterward, though, and even then, I couldn't get away. I…wish I was able to be here for him."
"He had a lot of people who were around him, supporting him after he got back. I'm surprised he's not sick of me by now."
"I'm sure he's glad to have you with him. He can be stubborn sometimes, but he needs all the support he can get after something like that. I've debriefed people who've gone through similar experiences, and the scars can last for a lifetime.
"I can't help thinking that if I'd have been here, I'd have been able to find him before…things got as far as they did. But even if I had known, the Agency wouldn't have let me off of my assignment. They might have sent someone else, and perhaps they should've, now that we know what Will's designs are.
"I just wish Jason hadn't had to go through all that for us to find out. If I knew there was anything I could do, I'd have dropped my assignment to rescue him. Gone rogue, and I'd be fired right now. And I wouldn't be able to help with the case."
"You're working on a case?"
"The one focusing on Will. I asked for it; the Agency readily obliged. We've run into a dead end, though; Gray is a ghost, and other than him, we don't know any other of Will's contacts."
"So you don't have any leads?" She hoped that they'd find these people, get them behind bars before they had a chance to hurt Jason again.
"Not many. We're following some rabbit trails, but so far they've led us on a wild goose chase." She laughed. "There's one or two…"
"Is that why you're here?"
"Officially, yes. I also wanted to see Jason. This is the second time I almost lost him, you know. The first time, after the incident with the Whisperer, I thought he was dead. Even as an agent, he's had more than his share of run-ins with danger."
"Danger is my middle name," said Jason, walking in and setting the mugs of hot chocolate down on the glass top of the coffee table. "They used to call me that back when I was in high school, you know. It's in my blood."
He sat down in the chair opposite them. "Speaking of which, we should probably pick up where we left off."
"You mean the Agency psychologist-?"
His eyes flashed. "No. I mean the reason you're here. My father."
"Is Whit in trouble?" said Connie.
"Jason—" said Tasha warningly. "Are you sure we should involve—"
"Connie is basically a part of our family," said Jason. "She should know."
"The more she knows, the more danger you put her in. You know the people we're dealing with better than anyone."
"Tasha—"
"Sorry, I shouldn't have put it like that. But in this kind of operation, the fewer that know, the better."
"She's here now. It should be her choice whether she wants to know more." He looked at Connie.
"If it has something to do with you or Whit being in danger, I do."
"Even if it means putting yourself in danger?"
"What kind of danger could I be in? I don't have any secrets." Connie took a sip of her hot chocolate.
"No," said Tasha, "And we wouldn't give you any more secrets than you know. But being close to this could make you a target. We've already seen how Will's modus operandi is to go after the loved ones of those he wants secrets from."
"I want to know. If there's any way I can help, I will."
Jason nodded. Tasha looked at him for a moment, then said, "Ever since we brought Nadira Jaheem in for questioning, and she described her interactions with 'Will', we realized we had a credible threat on our hands. Someone who had connections, who would go to any lengths to realize his goals of world domination, whether or not his goals were completely feasible in the long run. We needed to make sure he didn't get a hold of the weapons he was seeking.
"The problem is, we don't have a name to go on, only an alias, and so there's no way to know his true identity. He communicated with Nadira anonymously; she never indicated she knew his real name, and what else she could tell us was limited. Most of what we know now is mere assumption, connecting the dots that may give us a very different picture when we have more information at our disposal."
Jason cleared his throat. "What happened to Nadira?"
"I…don't know. I only saw the recording of her interrogation."
"Did they hurt her?"
"They scared her some—"
"Did they hurt her?"
"The Agency doesn't perform enhanced interrogations."
"I know you don't. The Agency, I'm not so sure about."
"What does it matter? She was complicit in Will's scheme. She hurt you."
"She had her reasons. Do you know what they did with her afterward? Did they let her go?"
"I'm not sure. I can check for you."
"I'd appreciate that."
"Anyway, we finally got a lead several days ago. One of our listening posts picked up some chatter in which Whit was mentioned as a target. It was in a code we hadn't seen before, so we didn't decrypt the whole message. But it also mentioned Zephyr, the computer program, and Will is one of the few people who knows about it. And if Will is behind it, this might be the break we're looking for."
"Wait a second," said Jason. "It sounds like you're using my father as bait."
"Does it? That came out wrong, I suppose."
"No, I know how the Agency works. People are just pawns in the game."
"Wait a minute, Jason—"
"I don't begrudge them that. They have to work that way. I just don't like it, that's all."
"So—they want to kidnap Whit this time?" said Connie.
"It sounds like it," said Tasha. "We're not going to let them, though." She looked at Jason. "If everything goes how I want it, Will's accomplices won't get near him. We'll capture them, and then—"
"If all goes well. I don't want any possibility that my dad could get hurt. I'd rather put myself out there as bait. Was there any mention of me?"
"There…might have been."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"That they mentioned a second target. We didn't get its identity. But it's likely you because both of you still have information they want, and either of you would be perfect leverage to hold over the other." She shook her head. "You Whittakers. You're like your own miniature version of the Agency—with less protection at your disposal. Maybe we should bring you all in to a safe house; you'd be less of a security risk."
"I'd almost consider it. But after a few days at a safe house, we'd be climbing the walls."
A smile touched her lips. "I suppose you're right. But for now, we need to make Odyssey a fortress—without looking like it is."
"I have some ideas."
"I thought you might."
"We'd better get going. I need to tell my dad what's going on." He rose, set his hot chocolate down.
"I'll go with you," said Tasha. "We'd better use my car—it's less…showy."
They walked out the door. Jason and Tasha got into her car. "Aren't you coming?" said Jason, through the open passenger seat window.
"My car's in the alley," said Connie. "I better go get it. Are you meeting at Whit's End?"
Jason nodded, barely perceptibly.
Tasha drove them out of the driveway. Connie had the strangest feeling of being left out; she wasn't part of that world, never could be. Tasha and Jason shared something that she never would be able to. They had a history…they'd even almost gotten married. Maybe it was best that they get together after all. They understood each other. Tasha was perfect for him.
She trudged down the sidewalk and into the alley, thinking that she wouldn't be able to be very helpful in this situation. Whit, Tasha, and Jason all would be able to do something; what could she do? She'd just be in the way. She wouldn't even know what they were talking about, and Tasha was right, the more she knew, the more she'd jeopardize the operation. She didn't want to get Whit or Jason in trouble.
Maybe I should just go home, she thought, as she climbed into the car. I'd never forgive myself if I did something that inadvertently hurt Whit or Jason.
She put the keys in the ignition, tried to start the car. It didn't start, but that wasn't surprising; it hated the cold.
She tried again. Nothing.
She leaned back on the headrest, hoping the battery wasn't dead.
Suddenly something pricked the back of her neck. Like an insect sting. She grabbed for it instinctively, then realized the worst thing to do is grab a stinging insect.
But what would an insect be doing outside during winter in the first place?
She turned to look in the back seat; by this time, her head was spinning. Am I sick? she wondered. Before haze enveloped her completely, she glimpsed two eyes looking back at her in smug satisfaction.
Then, nothing.