Gallimaufry

Spy Con

The cup of coffee on my desk had gone cold as I sat in half shock, glancing between the folder open on my desk and the covering letter from the director. They wanted me for field work. Sure, I had always had the inane daydream that I would one day be doing something other than sitting at a desk compiling reports and profiling targets. But a couple weeks into my job as an analyst, hell I was still on probation, and I had an actual assignment.

Then I turned my gaze to the information in the folder, including my cover, my access capabilities and my target and I felt ill. I had not been selected because I was some talent that they had scouted during the in-depth interviews, tests and training cycles I had been through. I had been chosen because they had found out about the one part of my personal life I had purposely avoided covering in my profile package.

Hell, I used a fake name, a separate email address and didn't connect that side of my life to my social media. I hadn't lied, but here it was, all out in the open. Was this their way of saying. "We know who you are." I glanced around the office, trying to note anyone watching me or smirking at me knowingly from around a corner.

But there was none.

I had spent a vast portion of my life working in law enforcement while I pursued my dream job of working for this intelligence agency. I had learned early in my career that the type of personality that flocked to this job didn't normally mesh with the part of my life that was now going to be on full display.

I shook my head and focused on the part of the folder that went into my target information. I knew this group. I had been assigned the work up for them last week. In fact, most of the report I was looking at was based on my hours and hours of research and analysis.

Apparently one of their key leaders was meeting with some other stakeholders here in the city next week and it was my job to get into those meetings and figure out what deals were going down. Disguised as a conference of sorts, the assholes were doing their dirty deeds right out in the open, in a hotel while another major convention went on around them.

That wasn't uncommon, large hotels usually had more than one event going on at the same time, though it was extremely fortunate for my organization. The convention sharing the space, probably using the same dining areas and same hallways, filled with a bunch of oblivious people not paying attention to the other conferences going on around them, was where I came in.

I fingered the registration package, including the lanyard and VIP pass that I never would have been able to splurge for, as I frowned down at the picture on the paper. I was hunting an international arms dealer while attending WattCon.

They even had my damned nom de plume AND user name on the badge.

How the hell did my boss find out I moonlighted as a romance writer for Wattpad? And how was I ever going to live this down amongst my video game playing, alpha a-hole, 'reading is for sissies' coworkers when this was all said and done?

Oh, and hopefully I didn't get made and shot in the process.

"Verga! You're with me for prep for the rest of the week!" Speaking of the alpha a-hole type, apparently Spencer was my handler for this case.

I looked up toward the team leader, sure I saw amusement in his eyes before he winked to me and turned, walking out of the office space and probably down towards the garage where I'd have to learn all the pertinent points in the next five days.

***

"Welcome to the first Wattcon! The evening's festivities will begin in about forty-five minutes, everyone's mingling in the ballroom." The Ambassador beamed brightly to me.

I barely managed a smile before nodding and starting into the ballroom, glancing at my watch where a text from Spencer appeared. Target was just leaving the airport, a team would be tailing him to the hotel and let me know if he was anywhere public. I had 72 hours to find a way to snatch his phone, do a data dump and hopefully get eyes on who he was meeting with.

I was standing in line, barely seeing the crowd milling around me as I waited to order a beer, when I focused on a woman standing in front of me, pointedly reading the name on my pass. "Hey."

"Holy crap. When you mentioned you were actually coming last minute, I thought like wow! Yeah right. You! In the flesh! Ahhh... I've wanted to meet you for so long." I was hugged, tightly, then the girl stepped back and grinned at me. "Sorry...I'm"

"TequilaSunshine " I glanced at one of my better friends on the social media site, grinning.

"Machineguncalamity." She grinned and shoved a hand toward me, accepting my greeting with a firm shake.

"Yeah... work opened up an opportunity for me to check it out." I offered, before turning to the bar that opened up, ordering a round for the two of us.

Tequila for Tequila, beer for me.

It was then that I felt my watch buzz and glanced down at it, reading the message that the target was in the hotel and headed to the bar.

"Cal... what's up?" Tequila smirked at me, raising a curious brow.

"I gotta go for a moment... "

I turned and beelined it out of the room, slipping into the bar from a side door, sipping my beer as I slowed to a saunter. I saw a couple of my team members sitting at the bar, watching the target through the mirror. The man was sitting at a table, his cellphone sitting off to one side as he scowled at his whiskey.

"Cal, what the hell... the beer in here is way more expensive. Didn't you read the package?" Tequila stepped up beside me.

Her words drew a glance from the target, who gave her a once over, a slightly less intimidating grin on his features. Thinking on my feet, I grinned and glanced at her. "Yeah, but more selection here. They even have good Tequila."

Nodding, I directed her attention to the bar as we walked past the guy.

"Yeah, but I blew all my money on cute t-shirts, I can't afford the 'good tequila." She laughed as she tossed her dark red hair over her shoulder.

"I have a bottle. If you two want to join me." The voice was accented and made my blood run cold.

No. No fucking way was I going to use even a casual social media friend to get to a target.

Tequila's southern twang was evident as she laughed. "Sorry sugar. But you couldn't handle one of us."

"I insist." The guy was a greaseball.

I caught a pointed glare from Spencer, who was at the pool table with Chuck and Ben, forcing a grin on my face. "C'mon Tequila."

I sat down at the table and though she frowned and gave me a look that told me we were going to have words later, she sat down too. I was a horrible person and I was going to hell but Tequila was also a good talker, it was a smart ploy.

My chance came when she got into a flirtatious debate about the quality of his tequila prompting them to get up and go to the bar while the idiot left his phone behind. Watching Tequila distract him with flirting as he had the bartender pour several shots for the two of them in yet another mirror, I quickly plugged his phone in to mine and started the download.

I finished with time to spare, finishing my beer and standing, waving to where my friend was laughing and still arguing with the greaseball. "Tequila! C'mon, it's a buffet tonight."

She grinned and winked at the guy. "Maybe we'll see you later."

I couldn't usher her out of the bar quick enough, and was biting back the bile of guilt when she mumbled. "Ok. Sleazy asshole gave me his room key. Like... what does he think?"

"Let's go get some garlic bread sticks..." I mumbled, knowing that I was going to have to owe her a whole book of smut for using her like this.

My watch vibrated and I glanced down to see another message from Spencer. Hacked in. Stand by for more direction.

"Hey! Isn't this sooo cool?" A young woman stepped up to us, wearing a t-shirt that contained what I could only assume was the title of her book, Redeeming the Spy.

I nodded, forcing myself to smile and act normal, these authors had no idea.