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Reminding herself of the security Protocol Zero provided, she pushed aside the ideas of assassination and corruption. Flynn hadn’t been at the helm when any of that went down, and the woman who had was in federal prison. All the extensive research Rory had done on him and Julia suggested they weren’t the stereotypical employees of the CIA, informally referred to as the Agency, and historically as the Company. They were, in terms Vivi used,good people.
Regardless, she needed this meeting to go well. She could build a compound and create a sense of safety and security for her and everybody here, but the truth was, a man with the type of power Flynn possessed could take it all away with a snap of his fingers. A few words in the ear of the right person and she could lose everything. “What can I do for you?”
He glanced toward the main building. “Can we speak in private, or is this as far as I get?”
She didn’t beat around the bush. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t allow you inside. You have people you care about that you protect.” She flicked her attention to Julia, then returned to him. “I do, too.”
He rocked back on his heels, giving her that easy smile once again. It didn’t reach his eyes. “I thought you were given a presidential pardon a few years ago.”
“Not exactly.”
He glanced at Julia. “Can we make that happen?”
She took out a small notebook and pen from her jacket and scribbled a note. When she noticed Beatrice watching her, she motioned at the car. “We left all electronics inside as requested.”
Beatrice wasn’t staring at her because of her notepad. “A presidential pardon?”
Julia tapped the pen against her leg. “I don’t know why not. Especially with Callan doing so much for him.”
Beatrice forced herself not to look dumbfounded. “You must want something very important.”
Flynn glanced at the building again. “It’s highly classified.”
Beatrice tapped her shoulder twice to signal Sabrina. The redhead, in her favorite fuchsia pink jumpsuit, emerged from the guard station, marching across to them with blindfolds in hand. “You may enter, but you understand I will not under any circumstances jeopardize the security of this place or my people.” She projected as much self-confidence as she saw in his face. “Not even for you, Director.”Especially not you.
His smile turned cocky. This time it reached his eyes. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
Along with the blindfolds, Sabrina ran a scanner over them, confirming they had no listening devices or cameras on their persons—or in the pen.
Once they were all inside the conference room, the door sealed and Connor stationed outside and armed to the teeth, she took her position at the head of the table. “You may remove the blindfolds.”
They did, and Julia took a seat, admiring a framed photo on the far wall. “Is that Chinon?”
The medieval town was one of the prettiest in the Loire Valley and the birthplace of Richard the Lionheart. Beatrice dreamed of visiting it someday. “Have you been there?”
“It’s on my bucket list, but Paris is my favorite.”
Conrad paced. “We have a delicate situation in play at the moment. One that requires your cooperation, Ms. Reese, if it’s to succeed.”
Julia set her notepad and pen on the table. “As you know, the Agency can’t get involved in domestic operations, but we didn’t anticipate this to happen here.”
Beatrice waited, remaining silent. She refused to ask too many questions or give anything away.
When she didn’t respond, Conrad leaned against the buffet under the photo. “We know about the team you sent to Colorado and what’s happening there.”
She shouldn’t be surprised, but she was. Her muscles tensed and her pulse skipped at the concern in both of their eyes. Her first thought was of Cal and the others. “Are my employees in danger?”
Julia fingered the notepad. “Not from us. From the terrorist organization you’re taking on…?” She nodded. “Your operation conflicts with ours.”
It was everything Beatrice could do not to follow that up with a litany of questions. “Let me guess, Lydia Charmaine is the catalyst.”
Flynn nodded. “Not exactly in the way you’re thinking, but yes.”
“She’s working for us,” Julia said.
“In what capacity?” As an operative? Even if she dared ask, she doubted they would tell her. She had to play her cards close to her chest. “She’s in imminent danger, but I assume you know that.”
“That’s why we’re here,” Flynn said.
