Dangerous Mating (A.L.F.A., #3)
Milly Taiden
Prologue
“He’s been captured by the enemy.” ALFA Director Josh Tumbel stood at his third-floor office window overlooking Washington DC, hands jammed in his pants pockets. “There’s no other explanation for him going dark.” And that worried him considerably. He’d never lost an agent, and in ALFA’s history, only one agent had been killed in the line of duty. He didn’t want one on his watch.
“When was the last time we heard from him?” Agent Sheldon Loper asked. He sat in front of the director’s desk. With two of the four agents on assignment and a third missing, this man was the only one he had available. Maybe time to train more. The world wasn’t getting any nicer.
“It’s been a week,” Tumbel replied.
“For Bryon, that’s definitely not normal. He’d never deviate from procedure.” Agent Loper shifted in his chair. Loper was right about that. Bryon Day did everything to the letter. The man could probably recite chapters and subsections of the ALFA handbook from memory. But no one held that against him. His redeeming factor was he was also great at video games.
“That’s what I’m thinking,” Tumbel said as he made his way back to his desk. “We need to send a team in to get intel or bring back a body.” His stomach churned at the thought.
“What have you got in mind?” Loper asked.
The director leaned back in his leather chair. “You and a female go in as tourists, see what you can find.”
Sheldon grunted. “I don’t even know what country he’s in. He’s been gone a while.”
Tumbel opened a file on his desk. “He’s been in Cloustien for about a year.”
“Never heard of it.”
“Not surprised,” Tumbel said. “I don’t see how it’s classified as a country. It’s smaller than New Hampshire.” He ran fingers through his hair. “It’s somewhere around Liechtenstein.”
“Germany, then,” Loper said and nodded. “Where are we getting the female? We don’t currently have any in training.”
“I’m going to call the FBI to borrow one of theirs. She won’t have to do much. As long as she can walk, she’ll work.”
Chapter One
Kari Tomlin threw open the entrance door to the FBI building, stubbed her toe on the metal floor transition piece, then stumbled into a lady holding a cup of coffee in the security checkpoint line.
“I’m so sorry,” Kari said to the woman’s scowling face when she looked to see who had run into her. The woman said nothing, just turned. Under her breath, Kari retorted, “Well, good morning to you, too.” God, she hated being awake this early. Her brain didn’t function until after seven A.M. And that’s with two cups of coffee in her system.
She glanced at her watch. When her boss had called forty minutes ago, he’d sounded as if aliens were attacking the planet. The “Director” wanted to see her right away. Top secret information had come and they needed her.
She’d met the director once, if you called shaking his hand as he handed over her FBI certification a meeting. She’d never forget that day, not because she became an official FBI agent but because she tripped over a taped-down microphone wire on the stage and took out the podium. It was the fault of the stupid high-heel shoes she’d worn. She was more of a flip-flop kind of gal.
After getting through security, she hurried to the elevators. One started to close and she dashed between the doors and stood facing the others. There wasn’t enough room for her to turn around. She hadn’t realized how crowded it was. She barely fit, and her bag didn’t. The briefcase crunched, then the elevator doors popped open, the security feature kicking in.
“Oh, crap,” Kari said. She pulled her case toward her and turned around, which required her to move back in the cab, jostling everyone behind her. She cringed at the moans.
The last to get off at the top floor, she rushed down the hall to the director’s door. She took a deep breath and smoothed out her suit jacket, then knocked. She heard “enter” and opened the door.
Director Lancaster, the head of her division, grabbed his cup of coffee off the desk and leaned back in his chair. On this side of the desk sat two older military men in highly decorated military uniforms. She didn’t know the ranks of the armed forces, but she both men had two stars on their collars. “And here she is now, gentlemen.” Lancaster looked at her. “Come in, Miss Tomlin.” She plastered on a fake smile and reminded herself to breathe.
“Good morning, sir,” she managed to get out.
“Good morning, Miss Tomlin.” He gestured to the two men. “These are Generals Smithton and White.” She nodded and mumbled a good morning as they did the same. “Miss Tomlin, thank you for coming in early. We’ve received intel from the field we need decoded urgently. The CIA has had it for several hours and are making slow progress.
“I’ve been telling these guys for a while now,” Lancaster gestured at the men sitting in front of his desk, “that you are a miracle worker when it comes to this kind of thing.” The director winked at her. “And now we get to put our money where our mouth is, if you get what I mean.”