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I’d known her late husband, Beau Rey, since the early days when we were both green recruits at the Farm. Beau had been killed during a mission in Venezuela, and rumors soon started circulating that the shot that ended his life was from friendly fire. Shortly after the chatter began about the circumstances of his death, the entire mission was burned. No trace of it anywhere.
If I were Casper, I would’ve done the same thing she did. I probably would’ve taken it a step further, though, and walked away from the intelligence community entirely.
Like Siren, Casper loved what she did. If she couldn’t do the work she’d been trained to do, what might’ve become of her life? At least by working freelance, those of us who knew her, and who had known Beau, could keep an eye on her. I was surprised when Cope told me she had taken on the assignment, but he wasn’t officially CIA anymore either.
“Secretary-General Kim’s office,” Casper answered with a perfect French accent. “How may I assist you?”
“Smoke Torcher, reporting for duty, ma’am.”
“Oui, Monsieur Torcher, I am happy to confirm your reservation at the Lyon Metropolis, this evening at nineteen hundred hours.”
“See ya then, Casper.”
* * *
When we met at the bar later, Casper kept up her French accent when we exchanged hellos, along with her cover name, Angelique Bonet.
“How’s Siren?” she whispered after looking around us to see if anyone was close enough to eavesdrop.
“Better.” I waited until the bartender, the only person in the room with us, went into the back. “Someone from Interpol has their eyes on her. Do you know who?”
Casper nodded. “Byrne ordered it, but it was above my head.”
“Do you know why?”
“I listened in on a conversation between Byrne and Hughes. Rory was updating Daniel on Siren’s condition and made a joke about sending her off to look for the Irish Crown Jewels while she was on administrative leave.”
“What did Byrne say?”
“He asked where she was, specifically, and Hughes told him she was in Waterford.”
“Anything else?”
“No, but as soon as he ended the call, he asked me to set up a meeting between him and one of the intel guys.”
“Why would he care that Siren was in a turd hunt for jewels that would never be found?” I didn’t expect Casper to answer; I was thinking out loud. “Any leads on a connection to the former CIA director?” I asked.
“Not yet, but there’s an off-site meeting scheduled tomorrow between Byrne, Kim, and Antonov.”
“No one else?”
“Not that I’ve been able to find.”
“Will you have ears on it?”
She nodded. “And eyes.”
“How?”
Casper cocked her head. “How do you think?”
“I thought this was a K19 mission.”
“As if Decker could keep his nose out of it.”
Under different circumstances, I might’ve given the man shit about it, but Decker had been in on taking down the director since the very beginning when Cope and another operative, Irish Warrick, grew suspicious about the deaths of some of the CIA’s best agents. I couldn’t fault him for wanting to see this through to the end.
“What have you got for me to work on while we wait for them to act?”
