Chapter 2: Tales of the Unexpected
Route 1A, about 30 minutes out of Portland, Maine
2 a.m.
Tara had dozed off a few minutes earlier, and Myles was left alone with his thoughts as they wound their way along the rugged Maine coast. A full moon lit the ocean off to his right, driving home just how much he missed New England and its unique beauty. Washington, D.C. was his home now, and he wouldn't trade it for anything, but his roots were here.
Jones was up ahead of them, the leisurely pace of his driving indicating he wasn't aware of the tail. He wouldn't be expecting them until at least Monday, anyway, and certainly wouldn't expect James Markham, Esquire, to stoop to a commercial flight and a Buick Skylark.
Myles smiled to himself as he remembered back over several things Dan Jones hadn't expected, particularly where Myles' partner was concerned. Tara had surprised him, as well, starting the morning of their very first meeting with Jones…
Two weeks earlier
Bullpen, Hoover Building
Myles was going over the case files at his desk; their very first meeting with Dan Jones was scheduled for an hour from now, and he wanted to be ready for any possible variable in the "deal-making" process. Anyone who willingly stole secrets from their own country to sell to outsiders made his blood boil; he wanted this guy, badly.
The click of high heels coming toward him and stopping next to his desk made him glance over. The pair of remarkably shapely pale legs connected to the shoes made him glance twice; he'd thought it was Lucy bringing over something to do with the case. He looked up from the file, and had to take an extra breath before he could speak.
The wardrobe of a wealthy British playboy wasn't alien to him; his background alone had brought him in contact with much of highbrow society, and he could slide into it like a second skin. But on his partner…
Tara eyed him momentarily, almost daring him to say something she could hit him for. She obviously wasn't comfortable in the rich wool business suit, with its slim-fitting skirt. But she looked incredible, every inch the sophisticated, efficient, downright beautiful assistant that a James Markham would choose.
He chose his words very carefully; it wouldn't do to show up at the meeting with a black eye, and he knew she could do it if pressed. He leaned back in his chair and raised an eyebrow at her. "I can tell from your expression you'd prefer jeans, but I must say, you wear it well."
Tara tugged at the fitted blazer over the silk blouse and rolled her eyes slightly. "I feel like I should be in the window display at Saks'."
"They'd sell out of that outfit in an hour, then." He watched her eyes widen at the compliment, then he stood and leaned against his desk, crossing his arms and leaning toward her slightly. "I know you're nervous, Tara," he said gently, "but you're going to do fine. And you certainly look the part."
She gave him a long, thoughtful gaze. "Myles, I have to ask… Why did you pick me to do this cover with you?"
He drew back, surprised that she'd wonder. Then he opted for the direct answer. "Because you're still a field agent, even if you spend most of your time behind a computer, and you need the undercover experience as well. I know you've already done some undercover, but the roles were always right in sync with the work you do here. After the whole Crazy Loco fiasco, I thought it was about time you had an opportunity to spread your wings a little, so to speak. And Garrett agreed with me."
"Oh." She looked a little derailed at his honesty. "Thank you, then. I think."
He laughed at that. "You're going to be fine. Come on, we've got a pigeon to snare." …
Myles shook his head at the memory of her initial fears, smiling to himself. If anything , Tara had more than exceeded every expectation he'd had… even when things got a little more involved than they'd planned…
Two weeks earlier…
Abandoned Warehouse, Arlington, Virginia
"Mr. Jones, I sincerely hope this system you speak of is all you've hyped it to be." Myles kept his voice stern and uncompromising, the British accent clipped and precise. "I don't take kindly to false advertising."
Dan Jones responded immediately, but his eyes were still on Tara. "I assure you, Mr. Markham, that if anything, I have failed to adequately play its features up to you. I'm sure we can come to an arrangement we can all be satisfied with." His gaze indicated exactly what would satisfy him at the moment.
Tara met his gaze coldly, but she did take a single step closer to Myles. "May I point out, Mr. Jones, that I am not part of any negotiations that will take place for this radar system. My loyalties are on a very narrow track."
He smiled, an attempt to be charmingly persuasive. "I assure you, Miss Dutton, that negotiations are always highly variable, loyalties notwithstanding. And I do have other interested parties; who knows what might sway the balance in Mr. Markham's favor?" His smile got wider as she glared at him. "Now, I will go and get a portion of the plans for you to look over. While I'm gone, perhaps the two of you can discuss exactly what you're willing to lay on the table… so to speak."
As he headed toward the warehouse office, Tara took a single step after him. "I'm gonna—"
Myles caught her arm. "You're going to do nothing at the moment. You can pound him into the ground later. I'll even hold him for you. But not now."
She turned to him, the anger in her face fading into a touch of fear. "He's creeping me out, M— 'James.' I don't think he's going to take 'no' for an answer."
Myles nodded, and caught her other arm, pulling her a little closer so that his face was shielded from any possible camera angle, and he could whisper to her. "I know. So we have a couple of different options."
"What?"
"Well," he said, the trace of a smile on his face, "we could let you blow our cover and beat him to a pulp."
She couldn't help but smile in return. "Which, as much as I'd like to, we really don't want to do if we're going to nail him for espionage and treason. What's Plan B?"
Now the smile faded slightly, and he was dead serious. "Or, we could give him a little show right now that would conclusively elucidate your unavailable status."
It took a second for the words to sink in, but then she smiled. "You've been too long without a Scrabble game." She reached up decisively and laid a hand on his shoulder. "I think I can handle Plan B. It sure beats dodging this sleaze for however long this deal takes."
He nodded, catching Jones returning in his peripheral vision. "All right, then." He brought his hand up to tangle his fingers in her hair, and pulled her face toward him.
It was strange, Tara thought; to be kissing someone passionately, but with such detachment. He was a perfect gentleman about it; any observer would swear they were going for the "mutual tonsillectomy" version, but he never pressed his advantage.
Jones apparently had reached them, because they heard a distinct clearing of a throat. Tara started to pull back, but Myles cupped her cheek with his hand and very deliberately kissed her one more time; slowly, possessively, making very sure that Jones knew he wasn't anywhere near the running.
As he finally released her, Tara stared at him for a split-second, then dropped back into character and faced Jones. "I told you my loyalties were narrow," she said coldly. "Perhaps this gets the point across?"
"I can be very generous with people who can get what I want, Mr. Jones." Myles' voice was even colder. "But there are some things I don't share. If you cannot abide that…"
Dan Jones backed up a step and held up his hands. "I understand, Mr. Markham," he said quickly. "And I apologize most profusely to the lady for my earlier comments."
Ten minutes later, having perused the portion of the plans they were allowed to see and setting up a second meeting with Jones, Myles and Tara were headed back to the office. Tara was thoughtful. "He gave up awfully easy, don't you think?"
Myles swung a half-smile toward her. "What? He was 'creeping you out,' and now you're disappointed he gave up? In some circles that could garner you the label of 'a tease'."
She swatted him on the arm. "That's not what I meant, and you know it."
He chuckled. "I know, Tara. I was just teasing you." Then he was all business again. "That he gave up so quickly tells me he doesn't have as many 'other interested parties' as he'd like us to think. He can't afford to blow this. The longer he has the plans, the more likelihood of his getting caught. So I think he'll behave himself now. We'd better call in."
Tara pulled out her cell phone and called Jack. She spent a few minutes filling him in on their meeting, and was about to hang up when Myles glanced in the rear-view mirror and muttered, "Uh-oh. It looks like we have a tail."
"Jones?" Tara glanced in the passenger side mirror as well. "Jack, hang on. It looks like Jones is following us."
"He probably wants to make sure we are who we claim to be," Myles said. "Which means going back to the office at this point is out, and so is going to either of our places." He thought for a moment, then he glanced over at her. "You feel like playing this little charade out a bit longer?"
Tara leaned toward him, a sudden gleam in her eye. "To borrow a phrase from Bobby, 'against this drongo'? Of course. What'd you have in mind?"
"You're enjoying this." He grinned as he reached for her phone. She handed it over and he brought it to his ear. "Jack? Looks like we're going to have to string this fish out a bit further. Can you have Lucy set us up at the Renaissance? Under James Markham. See if Leslie's working the desk this shift – she knows the drill pretty well. Yeah, I know, but Randy worked out some kind of a discount with them; I'll stay off his hit list for another month. Can we have somebody stationed outside so we know when Jones gives up and goes home? Great. Thanks, Jack."
Myles handed the phone back to Tara, who was looking at him with a "well?" expression on her face. He chuckled again. "Miss Dutton, if you're of a mind, we can give Mr. Jones a show that will guarantee both our covers and your safety from his advances."
Her grin was pure delight. "Mr. Markham, lead on." …
"All right, what's so funny?" Tara stretched a bit and shifted in her seat. "I don't usually expect to find you laughing to yourself. Unless the solitude is getting to you."
Myles gave her a look, letting the smile stay on his face. "I was just remembering that first day with Jones. And how your nervousness vanished the minute he ticked you off."
She felt her cheeks grow warm, and was glad he couldn't see it in the darkness. "It's been an adventure, hasn't it? But it sure is fun." On an impulse, she reached over and tapped his arm lightly. "Never expected that from you, I must admit."
A pair of blond brows went up. "What?"
Now she sobered a little, and he could tell she wasn't sure about sharing her thoughts. He glanced ahead to see Jones stopped at a lonely traffic signal, and slowed the car, turning to face her as he did.
"Come on, TaraTech," he said. "You brought it up, so spill: what is it you didn't expect from me on this case?"
She shrugged, trying to put it into words before they had to start up again. "it's just… I know you're passionate about your work; I've always known that. Somehow I didn't expect to find you … I don't know, diving into a cover like it was the greatest game around..."
The light ahead turned green, and Myles pulled back onto the road as Jones continued his trip. After a moment, he laughed softly. "I told you on the plane this is one of my favorite parts of the job."
"I know, but somehow I never expected to see an almost… boyish delight in it, when you're not strictly in character. That's more Bobby's persona."
He was quiet for another long moment. Then he spoke rather softly, serving up the thought with a shrug. "Maybe it's the company that lets it shine through a little."
Tara stared at him; she seemed to be doing that a lot on this case. Then she smiled. "Glad I could help, then. You want me to drive for awhile?"
"Thanks, but we'll be in Camden in about an hour, and we'll have three hours before we can check in at the B&B. I'll catch some sleep there." He reached over and squeezed her hand. "You may as well take advantage of the quiet. I'll try to keep from laughing any more."
She nodded, and settled back in her seat, but couldn't fall back asleep right away. As she watched her partner for a moment, knowing he was lost in his memories again, her own thoughts drifted back to the day of their first meeting with Jones, and it never occurred to her to think it strange Myles kept her hand in his as they continued their journey up the coast…
Two weeks earlier…
Renaissance Hotel, Washington D.C.
The valet opened the door of their Mercedes, and Myles extended a hand to help her out of the car. "You ready?" He murmured as he tucked her arm into his.
She nodded, and they strolled into the five-star hotel as if they owned it.
A pretty brunette turned as they approached the concierge desk. "Ah, Mr. Markham, Miss Dutton," she said. "Enjoy your day out in D.C.?"
"Thank you, Leslie, very much so," Myles replied. "Are there any messages?"
Leslie slid two pink notes across the desk to him, making sure he could see the room key just peeking out under them. The number "416" was written on the top message sheet.
Myles turned slightly as he glanced at the notes, covertly scanning the elegant lobby. "Jones is here," he murmured to Tara, and caught her slight nod. Then he raised his voice slightly, handing Tara the "messages." "Thank you, Leslie. Miss Dutton, if you'll take care of these until I have a chance to call them back…" He slipped an arm around her waist as they headed for the elevator.
Once the door closed on them, Myles felt a strange sensation and turned to see Tara watching him thoughtfully. "What?"
She shook out of her thoughts. "Hmm? Oh, nothing. Maybe I'll tell you later."
He raised a brow at her, but said nothing further until the elevator deposited them on the fourth floor. They watched the second car on its way up, and Myles quickly steered her in the direction of Room 416 when the bell indicated the car was also stopping on this floor.
Tara couldn't help but giggle; he had his arms around her from behind, and he was tickling her neck as he "nuzzled" her. "James," she chided, giving him a slight swat to his arm.
"Excuse me, but after that slimy character moving in on my lady, you expect me to not re-claim my territory?" He turned her around as they reached the door, and managed to insert the key card while giving her another passionate kiss. "I just want to make sure you know where your loyalties still stand."
They slipped into the room as she replied, "As if I would trade you for him."
Myles immediately released her as the door closed, and watched at the peephole. He placed a finger to his lips and signed a "J" to her. Tara nodded; then a thought struck, bringing a mischievous grin to her face, and she made a soft sighing sound. "Oh, James…"
Her partner gave her an astonished look; then he caught on, and a twinkle appeared in his blue-grey eyes. A smile crossed his face as he shook his head at her, then made a "go ahead" motion with his hand.
Five minutes later, Jones was back at the elevator, a rather embarrassed expression on his face, Myles noticed as he pushed the door open slightly. As soon as the man stepped into the elevator, the Harvard grad closed the door and turned to where his partner was face-down in one of the bed pillows, laughing hysterically.
"Tara." He couldn't help but smile. She was certainly having fun with this cover, and he was glad he'd chosen her to join him. She made him feel like he was a rookie again, when every experience was new.
"I'm… sorry… Myles…" She sat up, gasping for breath and still laughing. "I… just couldn't… resist…"
He sat down next to her, still shaking his head. She was delightfully contagious, and within a few minutes he was laughing along with her. "You're having way too much fun with this," he chuckled.
Another round of giggles took her, and she leaned against his shoulder. "Oh, against this idiot, there's no such thing as too much fun," she finally managed to gasp. After a few more minutes, she finally got herself under control again and looked up at him. "I'm sorry; you must think I'm completely nuts."
"Are you kidding?" he replied, a fond expression crossing his face. "I haven't had this much fun undercover in years. Now I wish we'd given you this chance ages ago."
She looked at him in astonishment. "Okay, who are you and what terrorist cell is holding my co-worker?"
Myles laughed again. "It's me, Tara. Really. And I probably should be asking you if you're real, since I never thought I…" He stopped abruptly, and a bit of the old mask dropped back into place.
She didn't push; she knew better. "Can I ask you something? I'm not upset, just curious."
He raised a brow at her and nodded.
"That last kiss…at the warehouse…"
Myles nodded in understanding. "I apologize for that; it was a bit of an afterthought. It occurred to me that 'James Markham' wouldn't likely let anyone else dictate when he should end a private moment. And it seemed like it would further cement that part of our cover."
"It's okay, it was nice… I mean, not that it was…" Tara sighed, her cheeks coloring slightly even as she waved a hand in frustration. "I wasn't griping, just wondering, okay?"
He laughed again. "Okay. Now, shall we see if Jones decided to leave us in peace, so we can get out of here? I think I owe you dinner after that performance." Giving her a wicked grin, he added, "And after that rather disjointed sentence a moment ago."
She swatted him on the arm, returning the grin. "Just call Jack, will you?" …
Tara laughed softly to herself, then heard it echoed from the other side of the car. She gently squeezed his hand again and drifted back to sleep, wondering anew how they'd missed such an opportunity for a friendship these three years.
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