Spy School and the Dead Agent

Chapter 10: Justice II

Chapter 10: Justice II

1900 Hours

Sunday

10 hours ago, in Wilmington, Delaware.

After the chaos of the train wreck, we found ourselves holed up in an old, dimly lit garage in Wilmington, Delaware. The safehouse had seen better days—the walls were chipped, and the concrete floor was covered in a layer of dust. A single, flickering overhead bulb cast long shadows, giving the place an eerie, abandoned feel. It was the kind of place that made you keep one hand close to your weapon.

Catherine had taken the lead, as usual, and was currently setting the stage for our next move. Worn, the techie we had captured, was seated at a small, rickety table in the center of the room. The scene was almost surreal: the table was draped with a faded white cloth, and a modest meal was spread out before him—steak, roasted vegetables, and a bottle of red wine. Two candles flickered softly, casting a warm glow over the otherwise cold, industrial space. It resembled a romantic dinner date, but the tension in the air was anything but romantic.

Catherine, ever the strategist, had decided on a different approach to extracting information from Worn. Rather than resorting to the usual tactics, she had chosen to seduce him. She stood near the table, dressed in a fitted, dark outfit that accentuated her figure, her hair cascading over her shoulders in loose waves. There was a confident, almost predatory glint in her eyes as she approached Worn, her every movement calculated to draw him in.

I stood off to the side with Mike, who was busy cleaning his weapon, though his attention was divided between the task at hand and the scene unfolding before us. Alexander paced the length of the garage, his expression dark and stormy. He kept casting glances at Catherine and Worn, his jaw clenched tight.

I exchanged a look with Mike, who shrugged and muttered, "He's ain't taking this well, is he?"

"Bet. Can you blame him?" I replied, keeping my voice low. "Seeing your wife flirt with the enemy isn't exactly easy to stomach."

Mike sighed, setting his gun down. "Maybe we should say something."

We walked over to where Alexander had stopped, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He didn't acknowledge us at first; his eyes locked on Catherine as she leaned closer to Worn, her hand resting lightly on his arm as she laughed at something he said. The jealousy was practically radiating off of him.

"Hey, Alex," I said gently, trying to catch his attention. "It's just for the mission, you know that."

Alexander finally looked at us; his eyes narrowed. "I know," he ground out. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it."

Mike nodded in understanding. "No one's asking you to like it. But she's doing what she has to do. It's all part of the plan."

Alexander didn't respond, but his shoulders relaxed slightly. He let out a long breath, clearly trying to get a grip on his emotions. "Yeah, I get it. I just... I don't like seeing her with him."

"We know," I said. "But Catherine's a professional. She'll get the information we need, and then we'll be one step closer to ending this."

Alexander nodded, though his eyes remained on his wife. "I just hope she knows what she's doing."

We fell into a tense silence, watching as Catherine continued her charade. Worn, despite his nerdy appearance, was clearly taken with her. He leaned in, hanging on to her every word, his eyes wide with a mixture of awe and nervousness. Catherine had a way of drawing people in by making them feel like they were the center of the universe when she focused on them. It was a venomous skill, one that she wielded with precision.