Free Virtually His by Gennita Low Page B

a trusted position, and he knew the man talking right now didn’t trust many people. Strangely enough, that was the topic of conversation at the moment.
    “If you want her to trust me, then you’ll have to let me handle this my way. Her agency is now merged with mine, and I have more knowledge of GEM operation procedures than anyone in this room.”
    The man’s voice was quiet and firm, with an underlying steeliness. From his angle, Kirkland had an excellent view of the wide screen. Four of the men were in uniform. The other five were heads of departments connected to high levels of national security. Their attention ranged from direct interest to skepticism.
    “This is a Classified Flux type project. We’ve always monitored every operational target,” one of the men in uniform said. “This will be the first time we’re using an ordinary outside operative and giving her free rein to achieve a mission. You’re the monitor for us. Letting you handle this your way, as you put it, can put every mission in jeopardy.”
    “The COS Center is possibly all Classified Flux, and we aren’t monitored in the way the military has to be, sir. I’m part of the V-Program, also a Classified Red project, and the success rate in our missions depended on our autonomy and secrecy. As for Miss Roston, I doubt anyone else would call her an ordinary operative, sir.”
    “Aside from her being a woman, she’s still a contract agent, nothing we could count on,” one of the men pointed out.
    “She’s from GEM and the operatives from there are highly regarded by every covert agency, national and foreign. COS Center has been working with them the last few years and our partnership has been very successful.
    “Part of it is due to our training, but most of it is because of the ability of each operative to make quick decisions during his or her mission. In Miss Roston’s case, it becomes complicated with every agency—CIA, DIA, NSA, INSCOM just to name a few—having trained her and wanting to claim her as their own, if the experiment is a success. There is a danger of information dissemination, of too many cooks spoiling the broth. She’s GEM and therefore, she’s mine. This project belongs to COS.”
    There was shocked silence as the men digested the speech.
    “You’re saying that you want to make all the major decisions of every operational target, that we’re to listen to you?” The incredulity in the man’s voice echoed the stares of the others around the table.
    “Yes. Have a good day, gentlemen.”
    The man cut off the satellite feed and turned away from the screen. He punched the intercom on his desk. “Tell Derek to get the room ready.”
    Now that the camera was off, Kirkland came forward. He’d listened in often enough to know exactly when to interrupt. He watched as his test patient unbuttoned his shirt with one hand while offering his other arm.
    After a few minutes, Kirkland rubbed alcohol and drew blood, then checked his stats. He labeled the tubes, putting them away in a small case. “Same questions—no nicotine, alcohol or caffeine the past twelve hours?”
    “No.”
    “How’s the stress level today?”
    “I haven’t killed anyone today.”
    “At least you’re retaining your sense of humor after pissing off some of the most powerful men in our country.”
    “It’s relaxing. You ought to try it sometime, Kirkland.”
    “To each his own. Of course, I feel quite powerful now knowing that I have more information on what COS Center has been doing with Miss Roston.” The doctor smiled at the direct stare of the man in the chair. “Yes, I understand. That also means I’m potentially in more danger than most people.”
    “Yes.”
    “Don’t you worry they’ll axe you?”
    “No.”
    “Why, if I may ask?”
    A glimmer of humor appeared in the other man’s eyes. “They don’t like working with each other, Kirkland. They hate having things out of their hands. Yet someone more powerful than they are is