peonies, freesia, lavender, lilies. Less prominent were onions, garlic, peppers, mint, thyme, parsley, basil. And over everything, the smells of mulch and organic fertilizer. She placed her equipment on a tray of geraniums, and dug out her sat phone and voice modulator as she checked the others’ progress.
Forsyth was holding the guard’s cock as if it was a leash, keeping him from leaving the booth. “Oh, come on. They can handle it. Look how close you are. It won’t take long to finish.”
She dropped to her knees, took him into her mouth, and the guard groaned.
Good answer.
Clancy approached the master bedroom, the Secret Service agent giving her a nod as if he clearly recognized her as Follett. “I need to see him,” she said, a slight whine in her voice.
“I can’t let you in.”
“Why don’t we let Mr. Burling decide that?”
“He’s sleeping.”
“I hear a television.”
The agent paused, as if listening.
“He’s not going to like it if you keep me out. Trust me on that.” Clancy played with the buttons on her blouse, clearly suggesting the reason she was there.
The agent sighed, apparently knowing enough about his charge to know she was likely right about the trouble turning her away would cause. “Okay, I’ll check.”
Easy peasy. Her sisters were damn good. Not quite in Hammett’s league, but close enough for government work.
She smiled at her own joke.
Ludlum was meeting the two exterior guards at the kitchen door. “What’s going on?” she asked.
“Someone might have spliced into the security camera cables with video of you from earlier in the day.”
“What? Like some caper movie?”
“Yeah. We might have a breach.”
“Should be easy enough to tell,” Ludlum said. “Let’s go take a look.”
The three made their way down the hall where the midnight snacking guard was about to enter a code on a keypad in a reinforced steel door.
“It would be tough to breach that,” Ludlum said.
Hammett watched the guard punch in the numbers, automatically committing them to memory. Ludlum probably had a photographic memory as well, so she could handle it if needed, but there was nothing wrong with having a back-up just in case something went wrong.
They opened the door, and Ludlum and the three guards filed inside.
Checking Clancy, Hammett made sure she’d gotten inside Burling’s suite before she made her move. Clancy had, and she was already kissing and teasing a very interested Burling, leading him toward the bathroom.
Show time.
She pulled out an encrypted cell phone equipped with voice modulator, similar to the one Isaac probably used, and punched in the number The Instructor had provided.
One ring.
On the computer screen, Follett’s dark form jolted into a sitting position. Switching on the bedside lamp with one hand, she grabbed her phone with the other and held it to her ear.
“Hello?”
“Is Mary Novak there?” Hammett said, using one of Isaac’s codes, the modulator lending her voice a robotic sound almost identical to his.
“I’m sorry, she’s driving to Nashville for the weekend. Visiting the Opry.”
“The Opry is nice. My friend Paula loves it.”
“You have something for me?” Follett asked.
“I’ve left a package for you.”
“Location?”
“You’ll find it in the greenhouse in the east garden. You need to pick it up now. Don’t let anyone see you leave. Understand?”
“Affirmative. But won’t the security cameras pick me up?”
“I’ve taken care of that problem. But you have to leave now. Use the window to avoid the Secret Service agent in the hall.”
“On my way.”
Hammett disconnected the call, figured she had at least two minutes before she needed to prepare for Follett’s arrival, and then she checked her sisters’ progress on the laptop.
The guard with Forsyth was on top of her and already grunting his climax. Not good.
“You have to keep him there longer,” Hammett said in her sister’s ear.
Forsyth
Forsyth was holding the guard’s cock as if it was a leash, keeping him from leaving the booth. “Oh, come on. They can handle it. Look how close you are. It won’t take long to finish.”
She dropped to her knees, took him into her mouth, and the guard groaned.
Good answer.
Clancy approached the master bedroom, the Secret Service agent giving her a nod as if he clearly recognized her as Follett. “I need to see him,” she said, a slight whine in her voice.
“I can’t let you in.”
“Why don’t we let Mr. Burling decide that?”
“He’s sleeping.”
“I hear a television.”
The agent paused, as if listening.
“He’s not going to like it if you keep me out. Trust me on that.” Clancy played with the buttons on her blouse, clearly suggesting the reason she was there.
The agent sighed, apparently knowing enough about his charge to know she was likely right about the trouble turning her away would cause. “Okay, I’ll check.”
Easy peasy. Her sisters were damn good. Not quite in Hammett’s league, but close enough for government work.
She smiled at her own joke.
Ludlum was meeting the two exterior guards at the kitchen door. “What’s going on?” she asked.
“Someone might have spliced into the security camera cables with video of you from earlier in the day.”
“What? Like some caper movie?”
“Yeah. We might have a breach.”
“Should be easy enough to tell,” Ludlum said. “Let’s go take a look.”
The three made their way down the hall where the midnight snacking guard was about to enter a code on a keypad in a reinforced steel door.
“It would be tough to breach that,” Ludlum said.
Hammett watched the guard punch in the numbers, automatically committing them to memory. Ludlum probably had a photographic memory as well, so she could handle it if needed, but there was nothing wrong with having a back-up just in case something went wrong.
They opened the door, and Ludlum and the three guards filed inside.
Checking Clancy, Hammett made sure she’d gotten inside Burling’s suite before she made her move. Clancy had, and she was already kissing and teasing a very interested Burling, leading him toward the bathroom.
Show time.
She pulled out an encrypted cell phone equipped with voice modulator, similar to the one Isaac probably used, and punched in the number The Instructor had provided.
One ring.
On the computer screen, Follett’s dark form jolted into a sitting position. Switching on the bedside lamp with one hand, she grabbed her phone with the other and held it to her ear.
“Hello?”
“Is Mary Novak there?” Hammett said, using one of Isaac’s codes, the modulator lending her voice a robotic sound almost identical to his.
“I’m sorry, she’s driving to Nashville for the weekend. Visiting the Opry.”
“The Opry is nice. My friend Paula loves it.”
“You have something for me?” Follett asked.
“I’ve left a package for you.”
“Location?”
“You’ll find it in the greenhouse in the east garden. You need to pick it up now. Don’t let anyone see you leave. Understand?”
“Affirmative. But won’t the security cameras pick me up?”
“I’ve taken care of that problem. But you have to leave now. Use the window to avoid the Secret Service agent in the hall.”
“On my way.”
Hammett disconnected the call, figured she had at least two minutes before she needed to prepare for Follett’s arrival, and then she checked her sisters’ progress on the laptop.
The guard with Forsyth was on top of her and already grunting his climax. Not good.
“You have to keep him there longer,” Hammett said in her sister’s ear.
Forsyth
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