Page 103 of Cloak of Red
“You’re an amazing woman, Sophia Sullivan. I want you in my bed. In my life. By my side for as long as I live. Think you’re game for that?”
Her ruby red lips curve into a smile as she drifts. The pattern of her chest rising and falling evens out as I lie there watching over her, my heart, my soul. Her crimson strands spread across the pillow like a cloak.
She may or may not have heard me, but deep down, I know I’ll spend the rest of my life watching over her, by her side, earning her love.
SEVEN YEARS LATER
“How’s my favorite Fish?”
“Tired, Frankie. I’m tired.” He smiles wide and the thick black moustache above his lip appears to magically lengthen.
“Well, head on up, lovely lady. Grumpy Fish awaits.”
“He’s not grumpy,” I say, defensive of my husband as I wheel my suitcase past Frankie’s coffee and newsstand.
“Not when he’s with you.”
A customer approaches, taking Frankie’s attention, and with a wave, I push open the door into our condo. Shortly after returning to DC, Fisher and I moved in together. A luxurious new high-rise on Fisher’s street opened up about a year later, and we purchased the penthouse we now live in.
We travel a lot, but there’s nothing like coming home. After the CalTan Operation, we were asked to join an elite group within the CIA. Those first few years, we always traveled together. A regular spy team all over Europe and parts of South America. And Fisher was right. There is a plus side to having a couple work together.
Thanks to our Colombian intel source, we’ve busted hundreds of small-time smugglers and money launderers, senators and congressman, and discovered more DEA agents in the mix. The small-time wins number in the hundreds. Best of all, we busted two massive international criminal organizations, including five high-powered billionaires who led the conglomerates.
We never learned if Senator Talbot died of natural causes or if he crossed the wrong person. That first year of working off tips from Rafael, we narrowed in on Zane’s father, Congressman Oglethorpe. According to Rafael’s sources, he acted as a conduit for providing safe harbors for yachts with drug shipments, but before we collected enough evidence to prosecute, he died in a helicopter crash. Zane remains blissfully unaware of his father’s misdeeds. After his father’s death, Zane joined a private practice as a defense attorney.
Rafael never took over his family’s cartel, but he keeps communication channels open and has been an invaluable source of intel. The focus of his life’s work has been building up his country. His hope is to help it become less dependent on questionable sources of revenue.
I’ve been true to my word and have been helping Rafael’s people by investing in legitimate revenue sources for Colombia, such as tourism and agriculture, and helping the country to prepare for rising oceans. Rafael and Gemma trust me, and that goes a long way in the intelligence world.
Fisher left the CIA last year. He’ll never say it, but I know it’s because a leadership spot opened up in our unit, and he believed I earned it. He claims it was all timing. Arrow asked him to open a DC Arrow office.
I’ve enjoyed the greater responsibility, but I hate spending so much time apart. The new position also has me dividing time between the office and the field, which has given me time to think about what I want from the next chapters in my life.
The elevator door opens, and I hear his footfalls before he comes into view.
“There she is.”
He has me in his arms, holding me close, and I breathe him in.
“I’ve been tracking you. Dinner’s ready. You hungry?”
“You cooked?”
“I heated.”
He nips at the side of my neck. The faint scent of curry wafts down the hall.
“And I’ve packed.”
I pull back. “You packed for me?”
“I would never,” he says dramatically. “But your suitcases are out. The driver’s picking us up at nine.”
In the morning, we’re leaving for vacation. We’re spending a few days with my family in San Diego. Ryan, Alex, Trevor, and Stella are coming too. Then we’re going on a well-deserved vacation, just the two of us.
Ever the gentleman, he grips the handle on my suitcase to return it to our room for me. I kick off my shoes and pad through our home.
“I’ll need for the car to come later. I’ll handle rescheduling,” I call after him.