Free Double Agent by Lisa Phillips Page B

a regular soldier. “It is okay, Mr. Adams. I trust Sergeant Major Richardson.”
    Steve’s face was blank, a mask of indifference that said enough without saying anything at all. This man felt the need to hide behind nonchalance, which told Sabine of the gravity of the situation.
    She chose a dark wood gondola chair that had a green-suede-covered seat. “What is it?”
    Steve scanned a bookshelf beside him, then finally came and sat across the cherrywood coffee table in a chair that matched hers. “You have some kind of nerve showing up here, Ms. Sanders. After what you did six years ago, I would think you’d have the good sense to stay away from this part of the country. Either you’re incredibly brave or completely reckless.”
    Doug’s mouth opened, and she shot him a look, cutting off whatever he’d been about to say. “I’d love to know what you’re talking about, Mr. Adams, but I’m afraid I have no idea. Six years ago, when the Tamaris mission went wrong—”
    “Went wrong?” Steve’s face flushed. “Three agents, your team, your friends, were all left for dead on that mission. You disappeared. The company spent a considerable amount of time and manpower searching for you to determine if you’d been killed or captured.”
    “Captured?” Sabine couldn’t believe it. “I was left for dead, just like the others. I woke up two days later in a French hospital with three bullet wounds. After I recovered, my new handler told me I had to disappear. He gave me everything I needed to start a new life. It was only after I rebuilt everything from the ground up that I started taking on missions again.”
    Steve looked her over, as though assessing the truth of her words. “Who is your handler?”
    “His name is Neil. That’s all I know.”
    “It would be worth your while to find out more about him.” He paused for a beat. “Ms. Sanders, this situation is very serious. For the past six years, everyone at the CIA has wondered who killed the other members of your team on the Tamaris mission. Some even speculated that you killed them yourself and then disappeared.”
    “I’ve given my whole life to the CIA. How can they even say that?”
    “Because if what you say is true, then those who speculated that you have gone rogue are, in fact, correct.”
    “Rogue?”
    Steve nodded. “Several times over the last few years, agents out on missions claim to have seen you. There was never any hard evidence to prove it. You’re quite adept at that which we trained you for.”
    “This is the most contrived story I’ve ever heard.” Sabine tamped down the urge to rage at the man before her. Instead she tried to remember the respect she once had for him. “You’re saying I was duped into being a rogue agent by someone pretending to be a CIA handler?”
    “It’s not out of the realm of possibility, if you think about it. They convince you the situation was so bad it was necessary for you to go dark, part of some super-secret department. They provide you with a new identity... Sabine. Now you work for them, a fully trained CIA operative at their beck and call. It’s clever.”
    “I am not a pawn. I would know if I wasn’t working for the CIA anymore.”
    Steve didn’t seem convinced. “Not if they didn’t want you to. Whoever you’re working for now convinced you that you’re still a CIA agent when you’ve been number one on our list of rogues since the Tamaris mission. They’re evidently very good at what they do.”
    “This whole thing is crazy.”
    Doug squeezed her shoulder. “You should listen to him.”
    She turned her frown on him. “Why? How do you know anything about this?”
    “After we saw each other in the Dominican Republic, I gave your information to my commanding officer. He said the same thing. I told you the CIA denied all knowledge of you. They’ve been looking for you. Though how you managed to change your name and Ben’s—and stay hidden this whole time—is beyond