Deep Sleep (Devin Gray #1)(14)

“On a related note,” said Shea, pausing to focus on the tablet. “And you’re all going to love this. I’ve just been informed that everyone involved in the hotel side of the operation is on paid leave, effective immediately.”

The room broke into a low-grade chorus of expletives.

“Don’t get all worked up. This isn’t a punishment,” interrupted Shea.

“Kind of sounds like one,” someone muttered, reigniting the grumbles.

“Given the proximity of our operation to the White House, you can bet your ass the Secret Service will investigate. Stuff like this makes them nervous. All we’re asking is that you take a little impromptu vacation and get out of the Beltway. You don’t want to be home when the Secret Service comes knocking with questions. And they will come knocking. They’ll run every surveillance camera feed in the hotel and on the surrounding streets through their facial-recognition system—which will tag a good number of us. Let MINERVA’s lawyers and executives deal with their questions. It’s far less painful for everyone that way.”

“How long do you think we’ll need to stay away?” asked one of the surveillance techs.

“Two weeks. Plan on two weeks. You’ll all get a one-time, tier-four performance bonus to help pay for the unexpected vacation,” said Shea. “That comes straight from the top.”

Devin turned to the DA operative seated next to him.

“Is that good?” whispered Devin.

“That’s more than good,” he said. “Ten percent of base pay, after taxes.”

“Damn. They must really want us to leave town,” said Devin.

Shea pointed at Devin. “Did everyone hear what Mr. Gray just said?”

When everyone quieted, he continued. “He very astutely said, ‘They must really want us to leave town.’ Any questions about what you’ll be doing for the next two weeks?”

“Vacation. Far away,” said Chris Murphy.

“Exactly. Starting today. Drop off your issued gear back in the office and head straight home to start packing. Preferably, you’ll call the family on the way home, and they’ll have a bag packed for you when you arrive,” said Shea. “Anything else before we cut loose?”

Silence. Mercifully.

“All righty then. Let’s load up and get back to the office. That should get you on the road and headed home before rush hour traffic gets crazy. Don’t want to hold up any of your vacations,” said Shea, to a round of grunts and groans. “Quit your bitching. It’s a paid vacation.”

Devin checked his watch on the way out: 5:35. Unless they were closer to DC than he’d guessed, that put him in heavy Beltway traffic on the ride from the office in Alexandria to his apartment in Hyattsville.

His estimate about the distance turned out to be pretty accurate. After a seventy-minute, light-traffic drive, and about a half hour inside the MINERVA headquarters building, he slumped into the leather driver’s seat of his SUV and took a few moments to think about how he’d go about skipping town. His dad would not be keen on the idea of packing a suitcase and heading straight to the airport this morning, later today, or even tomorrow, for no other reason than he “required more notice than that.” He could hear the words right now. His dad never rushed into things, or out of them.

He’d show up in a few days, which actually worked out better. Kari was a little more like herself when he wasn’t around. A lot more. Mom’s downward spiral had really done a number on her. Five years younger than Devin, she had been around for the worst of it, while he’d been away at college. He still felt guilty about that. He’d gone to school thirty minutes away, unaffected and mostly oblivious to their mother’s unraveling. Kari had spent her high school years struggling with their mother’s rapidly worsening psychosis and a just as swiftly dwindling collection of friends.

Falls Church, Virginia, was a small, densely packed community a few miles west of the National Mall, which put it just south of McClean, Virginia, home of the Central Intelligence Agency. Growing up, all Devin’s friends’ parents had either worked on Capitol Hill in high-visibility jobs or “for the government.” Most of the kids had known to stop asking questions when you got the generic answer. Even the new kids caught on, because word got around—even when it wasn’t supposed to. As it had with their mother.

Kari had pulled a Houdini after graduation and never looked back—more like she never came back. She had applied to schools on the West Coast and had gotten accepted to UCLA, spending nearly all her vacation time with friends and her summer quarters loading up on prerequisites. She had graduated in five years with a master of social welfare degree and had immediately been hired at a major nonprofit organization, where she’d worked nonstop for the past five years. She’d been home twice since leaving for college almost fifteen years ago. Dad had visited her at least once a year, usually with Devin. She wouldn’t let Mom visit and had seen her only once during the two times she made it back east. Mom had seemed to understand, or she hadn’t cared. It had gotten harder to tell over time, until he’d pretty much stopped seeing her, too. Devin didn’t want to think about it anymore.

He opened the compact nylon satchel he’d thrown on the passenger seat and removed his phone. MINERVA required them to leave all personal items behind during operations, especially electronics devices. At the start of each operation, they were given a slim wallet preloaded with a basic identification card and enough cash to fulfill their mission, an encrypted and presumably untraceable smartphone, and any additional personal gear deemed necessary by the operation leader. They handed in their phones and wallets before departing for the mission staging area and retrieved them upon return.