“A college student shouldn’t be spending ten days in Vegas,” Owens said, speaking from the edge of his lips like a ventriloquist.
“You think she’s MSS?”
“Sounds like it.” Owens was aware that the Ministry of State Security (Chen Di Yu — China’s equivalent of the CIA) had been flooding the US with sleeper agents. They lived passively in the States until called upon for espionage-related activities. Although this woman seemed to be more than a sleeper, student visas were an easy way to slip agents into the country. “Is this the same woman?” he asked.
Comparing the woman in the bar with an image on her computer screen, Kayla said, “Almost positive. She’s wearing those oversized sunglasses in the first photo, but it’s a close match.”
A week earlier, security cameras outside the unmarked Janet terminal had captured the woman on film. An attentive security officer had noticed the woman trying to wave down cars after they left the parking lot, including Ben Skyles who stopped to help her. The officer reported the incident and it was channeled through various levels of security, sounding additional alarms along the way because of Skyles’ involvement. Once the situation reached Owens, he gave it top priority and placed Skyles under constant surveillance. A taped phone conversation revealed Skyles had a drink with the woman after helping her. When Owens received word they planned to meet again, he wanted to handle the situation personally.
Owens continued to watch and listen as the woman flirted like a schoolgirl, tilting her head, batting her eyes and leaning her shoulder into his with gentle cajoling nudges as they bantered. Owens noted that a clear drink — vodka and tonic? — which she raised to her lips never lost its volume. Several times she stirred the drink with her index finger and then slid it in her mouth to suck it clean.
High cheekbones and a detailed jawline defined the woman’s exquisite face, but Skyles had trouble keeping his eyes off her blouse, unbuttoned to expose a sinful amount of skin.
“Tell me more about your job,” she stated, eyes bright with interest like a woman on a first date.
“I didn’t know I had told you anything,” Skyles said.
He hadn’t, but she continued as if he had. “Some technological information. Fascinating, but it didn’t make much sense. You were pretty vague. Said I’d have to wait until you knew me better.”
“I must have been drunk. At least I held out.” He grinned, then gulped the rest of his second cocktail.
“Maybe I wasn’t persuasive enough,” she said with a testing smile.
Skyles enjoyed the conversation he was having with her breasts. “I imagine a woman like you can be pretty persuasive.”
“There’s no point imagining when you can see first hand. I’ve got a few secrets of my own that might interest you.” She raised her glass and dribbled a few drops of vodka and tonic over her white blouse, making the fabric transparent against the left side of her chest.
Skyles’ eyes widened in ecstasy; she wasn’t wearing a bra. He paid his respect with a six-inch salute. “Speaking of secrets, I know things that would send shivers up the President’s spine,” he admitted.
The remark disturbed Owens. “He shouldn’t be making references like that,” he muttered.
“Maybe it’s a coincidence,” Kayla said. “It could be a line.”
“There’s more to it than you understand,” Owens told her. Kayla was new and not yet privy to all that Owens understood. “And I don’t think he needs to use a line at this point.” Owens now suspected that there might be more to the incident than he had anticipated. “This woman may have opened our eyes to a serious problem in our security. I don’t want this going any further.” He retrieved a laser pointer from his lapel pocket and trained it on Janice’s wet blouse, keeping it pointed there as he rose and walked toward their table.
Skyles saw the dancing red dot from the laser and turned to find its source. He made eye contact with Owens who did not stop his approach until he was staring down on Skyles, glaring with cold blue eyes made even stranger by a double set of pupils — one black circle on top of the other, almost reptilian. Owens’ birth defect was rare, with no physical limitations — just aesthetic challenges that often helped him to intimidate those he exchanged scowls with.
“Ben Skyles, I thought that was you. And this must be your lovely wife Linda,” he said, shifting his stare to the Chinese beauty next to Skyles.
Dumbfounded, Skyles stammered, “Oh, no. This is Janice — she’s an old friend. Do I know you?” Skyles asked, knowing too well who the man might be. He tried to remain calm, but began sweating, realizing that the man might have overheard their conversation.
“We’ve crossed paths before. I suppose you forgot. A few too many drinks maybe?”
“Just a couple while we reminisced about old times,” Skyles managed.
Owens sneered at Janice as she blotted her shirt with a napkin. “Apparently you have a leak,” he said with a devilish grin. “I hope they’re saline and not silicone.”
Janice ignored his insinuation. “The ice cubes were stuck at the bottom of the glass and fell forward while I was taking a sip,” she said with English that barely hinted at a native tongue. She attempted to look embarrassed, appeasing.
“No they didn’t,” Owens replied. Losing his smile, he shot Skyles a sinister look. “Did you see the full moon last night, Ben?”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Good answer.” Owens offered Janice a parting wink before retreating to his table. His comment about the moon was bait for her more than anything else, and she had responded with a subtle double-blink that spoke volumes to a seasoned professional like Owens.
“I always knew the Chinese would come after us,” Owens said for Kayla to hear. “They have the greatest need for the technologies.”
“What do we do next?” Kayla asked.
“Wait until they leave, then take the woman. I don’t want to do it in here. Be ready to confront her.” Owens reclaimed his seat, turning in time to see Skyles drop cash on the table and hurry for the door. “Skyles is on his way out.”
“It’s okay to let him go?”
“We can deal with him later.”
Janice got up and walked to the restroom, passing Owens along the way. Their eyes met. Neither one broke the stare until she disappeared through the bathroom door.
“Get the hunting knife from the equipment trunk and puncture two of her tires,” Owens instructed Kayla. He waived the waitress to his table and flashed a billfold with Department of Justice credentials that could be validated, but were not a true marker of his identity, “A woman just went into the bathroom,” he said to the waitress. “Is there any other way for her to exit?”
The waitress paused, trying to process the credentials and questions in her mind about what might be happening, and then thought about the bathroom, “No — there’s a window, but it’s too small for someone to fit through.”
Minutes passed as Owens waited in his booth with a malevolent calm, wondering what Janice was doing in the bathroom — maybe calling for help. “Let me know if anyone enters the parking lot,” he told Kayla.
Moments later the waitress exited the kitchen and returned to Owens’ table, breathing heavy with excitement. “That woman just dropped through a ceiling panel in the kitchen and ran out the back door.”
“She’s outside,” Owens advised Kayla. He ran, bursting through a swinging kitchen door and spotted the exit. He dashed outside into a rear parking area that bordered a low-rent apartment complex and offered half a dozen flight paths that would not return Janice to the front of the restaurant. “You still at her car?”