Page 65 of Secrets Beneath the Waves

Before tonight, her gut told her that the three guys she was dating weren’t a threat. But what if her instincts were wrong? What if she’d missed something, some detail, some subtle movement that would’ve tipped her off to who these men were?

The thought seemed silly to her. Like she was being paranoid.

Now she regretted calling her parents. She’d done so to discuss the three men tailing her. That was her bigger worry. In fact, when she first decided to call, she was feeling good about herself. She thought her parents would be impressed with her ability to snuff out the threat.

Why did she even tell them about the three guys she was dating? She had intended to tell them about the three guys hunting her, but had gotten distracted with her love life.

The events of the day came rushing back to her briefly pushing her dating life to the background. She left the house at a different time than the day before. To stagger up her routine as her mom had taught her to do.

Thanks to her mother’s meticulous training—drilled into her since she was old enough to understand the phrase “situational awareness”—she began doing some extreme maneuvers to see if anyone was following her.

Slowing down. Speeding up. Pulling off the road, waiting, then getting back on the road. Four right turns in a row.

She spotted a particular car when she was getting close to the CIA offices. In fact, she felt it first. Her mom called it an instinct. A feeling of being watched. It had sent her senses into overdrive, and her keen eye expertly found what was out of place.

She didn’t panic when she spotted the first guy. The red four-door sedan followed her for nearly ten minutes when she passedthe office and drove toward the tourist area where there’d be more people. When it turned off abruptly at an intersection, a fleeting sense of relief washed over her. But it was too fleeting. An almost immediate sense of dread replaced it.

Her mother’s voice rang in her ears:Watch for the handoff.

Many operatives had lost their lives falling for the trick. When they thought the danger had passed, a second threat emerged that they weren’t prepared for.

In the rearview mirror, she spotted a blue-colored sedan pull out of a parking lot and begin to follow her. It wasn’t close enough to be overt, but its persistence gnawed at her nerves. She slowed to a near crawl, feigning interest in a roadside fruit stand. The sedan mimicked her speed, its headlights glinting in the morning sun.

No more sudden movements, she reminded herself. Don’t let them know you’ve spotted them.

She merged into traffic again, scanning every car, every shadow in case another threat emerged. The island’s narrow streets were congested with tourists. It felt surreal. Her world on high alert while theirs moved at a carefree pace.

The second sedan eventually broke off. Ellie refused to relax. She thanked her mother under her breath for her painstaking training, when she spotted a third sedan. Different color, same slow, deliberate rhythm as it trailed her through a roundabout.

She pulled into a parking lot abruptly. The sedan cruised by slowly, and she caught a good glimpse of the driver. The man was Middle Eastern, sending a chill down her spine.

Ellie didn’t wait. She sped out of the parking lot in the opposite direction and took evasive actions to make sure she lost them.

Once she was satisfied, she went to the airport and ducked into a tourist shop, the gaudy displays of postcards and T-shirtsoffering temporary cover. A glance at a mirrored shelf caught the reflection of her blonde hair—a beacon, too noticeable.

In the restroom, she stuffed her hair under a baseball cap and slipped on a pair of oversized sunglasses. The cheap tourist T-shirt she bought hung loosely on her frame, but it would do. Anything to make her blend in.

When she stepped back outside, she scanned the street quickly but didn’t see any sign of her pursuers. She went to the rental car counter and got a different car using a different name and ID her dad had made for her.

When she got on the road again, she kept her head on a swivel, constantly looking for threats.Many unanswered questions raced through her mind, matching her elevated heart rate. Why were the three men targeting her?

Was it someone who had a connection to her parents? They had made a lot of enemies over the years, but how did these men know she was their daughter? No one knew other than a few people within the CIA.

Another alternative, a more plausible theory, was that they were surveilling the CIA office. When they saw her approach, they decided to follow her and gather intelligence.

She drove around the island looking for the sedans. When it started to get dark and she hadn’t seen anything, she went back to her apartment and called her parents, intending to tell them about it. But she didn’t.

Why didn’t she?

She knew why.

They’d gotten distracted talking about the three guys she was dating.

The conversation had gone off the rails, when her love life became the focus of the discussion. She should’ve cut it off immediately. She was old enough to make her own decisions about who she dated.

Why had she been defensive about it? The spy game came with a lot of isolation. So, what if she was more outgoing than they were and went on some dates? They were older recluses and had each other. She should be allowed to have some fun on her own time.

She clenched her fists as frustration bubbled to the surface. Thinking about the tenor of the conversation tasted bitter. Mark, Luke, and Matthew might be her current puzzle, but the challenge of keeping feelings in check paled in comparison to what she was really up against.Three Middle Eastern men were a real threat to take seriously.